The air thickened, pressing downward like falling slate. Tashvi’s renewed spark, barely a ember, struggled against the sudden, overwhelming force that threatened to flatten her into the scorched floor. Her vision blurred at the edges, the obsidian obelisk she clung to feeling impossibly heavy, its power now a distant whisper against the thunderous pressure. Rhasan, already bleeding and slumped against the pillar, groaned as the downward drag pinned him flat. The scavenger, still hunched near the fallen column, cried out as his spine bowed. Sage-Lord Vamud stepped fully into the sparse light, his form no longer an indistinct shadow. His silver hair, usually meticulously combed, was slightly disheveled, giving him a wild, almost feral air. His eyes, once warm and avuncular, now held a cold, predatory gleam. And in his chest, where the intricate patterns of his shock vest should have been visible, a pulsing sapphire gem burned blue against Tashvi’s retinas. The unique, resonant signature of Rhasan’s sister, Sana. “A fraction,” Vamud’s voice was a low purr, dripping with disdain. “You clung to the last wisp of power, even with a fractured core. Remarkable. But ultimately, futile.” He extended an open palm, and the downward drag intensified until Tashvi’s molars clicked together. “This… this is the true potential of the twin cores. Unfettered. Unburdened by sentiment.” The pressure mounted. Tashvi’s head swam, her lungs screaming for air. She saw Rhasan’s face contort in agony, a thin stream of blood escaping the corner of his mouth. His eyes, however, were fixed on Vamud’s chest, on the sapphire glow. A guttural sound tore from Rhasan’s throat, a sound not of pain, but of pure, unadulterated fury. “Sana,” he rasped, the name a broken whisper. “You killed her. You stole her.” Vamud’s smile widened, a predator savoring its prey’s realization. “A necessary inconvenience, my dear Rhasan. Your sister, so bright, so inquisitive. She discovered my… kinetic studies. That quaint little ring she found, the one with the strange, pulsating runes? It wasn’t a family heirloom. It was a prototype for core-absorption. She was so very close to understanding.” His voice dropped, chilling the very air in the vast chamber. “She confronted me, of course. Full of righteous indignation. Told me she would expose me to the Council of Apex. Foolish girl. I gave her an ultimatum: join me, help me usher in a new era of shock mastery, or… become a component of it.” Vamud’s gaze drifted from Rhasan to Tashvi, then back. “She selected the latter, rather dramatically. A concussive discharge to the face, a swift extraction. Efficient. Clean. And now, her spark, combined with yours, allows me to wield power you two could only dream of. Power that will reshape Jhavar.” He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “You see, Rhasan, even in death, Sana serves a purpose. A purpose far grander than any petty sibling bond.” The crushing force intensified again, making the stone floor groan. Tashvi fought to draw breath, her vision tunneling. Vamud’s stare settled instead on the scavenger, who wheezed with his forehead driven against flagstones. A crude stun-baton, dropped during the last skirmish, lay a meter from the man's outstretched fingers. “You, little gutter-rat,” Vamud said, his voice cutting through the localized load. “You aided these two. A regrettable decision. But I am a generous man. See this?” He gestured to a small, intricate device strapped to his wrist, pulsing with a faint, steady rhythm. “This enhances my control. A gift from the old world. You break it, you die.” “But… you,” Vamud continued, his eyes glittering. “You look like a survivor. A practical man. You want to escape the muck. I can offer you a fully charged core. One that will propel you to the apex of the Spire. Not just a ticket, but a true place among the elite. All you have to do… is take that baton, and end her.” He nodded towards Tashvi, his voice a silken temptation. “Make it quick. She’s already fading.” The scavenger's stare darted between Tashvi’s struggling form and the blue glint in Vamud’s chest. Dirty fingers twitched, dragging across stone toward the dropped shaft. The air thrummed taut as wire. Tashvi saw Rhasan’s bloodshot gaze tracking the scavenger. She herself could only manage a slow, painful blink. The scavenger gripped the baton. He hauled his torso up, wincing as his knees buckled against the downward torque. He took a single, halting step toward Tashvi, the weapon raised. “I’m sorry,” the scavenger muttered, his voice cracking, but his focus stayed locked on Vamud’s wrist. With a sudden surge, he pivoted, lunging past Tashvi straight toward the bracer on Vamud’s forearm. The crackling tip smashed into the regulator with a hard crunch. The device exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel, a high-pitched whine shrieking through the chamber. The crushing field collapsed. Tashvi drew in a ragged, burning breath. Rhasan sagged against the masonry, coughing, his stare fixed on the old man. Vamud roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated rage. He backhanded the scavenger with a concussive strike that hurled him across the chamber, cracking against stone before collapsing limp into the ash. Tashvi flinched. But Vamud did not waste another glance on him. His gaze, colder than the deepest ice storms, snapped to Rhasan. Before Rhasan could even push himself fully upright, Vamud was there, a blur of motion. His hand clamped around Rhasan’s throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Rhasan’s feet dangled, his already damaged windpipe straining as Vamud’s grip tightened, the sapphire core in his chest pulsing with renewed, malevolent light. “A foolish intervention,” Vamud snarled, his eyes burning into Tashvi’s. “Now, Tashvi. The choice is yours. Flee. There are still pathways to the wastes. Survive, if your pathetic core allows it. Or fight. Fight for the betrayer who ruined you. Fight a god-tier master, with a dying core, and watch him die anyway.” The master's fingers sank deeper into Rhasan's throat. Rhasan’s skin mottled dark purple as his knuckles scraped uselessly at Vamud’s forearm, his stare fixed on Tashvi. The crossroads was clear. Flee, and live. Or stay, and die for him.

Sins of the Mentor