The ceiling aperture pulsed, an open breach above the vault. Dark filaments writhed within its depths, reaching downward. Ivelina spun, glaring at the terminal. “Tadek, the surge! I need to reroute the primary conduits, or this section detonates!” Her fingers struck the interface keys, but the brass frame groaned, the dials fluttering erratically under the strain. “Not just the quadrant,” Tadek muttered, watching the widening breach. Fragments from Voroshan’s memories stirred—a miniature preview of the prophesied apocalypse. Borislav turned amethyst optical lenses on Tadek. “Idle student! You are a key, nothing more. A vessel for Voroshan, whose power I shall command! The Path of the Progenitor leads only to *my* triumph!” Borislav lunged, an iron gauntlet spitting blue sparks as it drove toward Tadek. Tadek sidestepped, the floor plates behind him vaporizing into slag. Borislav swung again, his pistons rattling. “You think to evade me? I have absorbed the knowledge of ages! I know his fighting forms, his every tactic!” Borislav swept an armored backhand that whipped concussive force through the air, flinging Tadek against a support pillar. Rivets popped as iron warped behind his shoulder blades. [Damage Taken: 120,000] [Health: 99.8%] Tadek slid down, coughing. The blow had stung, but the sheer scale of his acquired durability rendered it a mere inconvenience. He pushed off, his feet scraping on shattered metal. “You think you know him? You only know what he left behind. The scraps.” Tadek wasn’t sure why he said it, but the words felt true. Borislav roared, a sound of grinding gears and pure rage. He launched a volley of discharge bolts, purple arcs that shredded the air. Tadek weaved, planting his boots firmly with each stride. The discharges seared past, turning iron piping behind him to liquid run-off. He tried to duck inside, looking for an angle, but Borislav pivoted with mechanical speed. A heavy swipe caught Tadek across the ribs, pitching him against the outer containment shroud. [Damage Taken: 250,000] [Health: 99.7%] “His cunning is mine, boy!” Borislav shouted through his vox-grille. “Every defense, every feint! You are predictable! A crude imitation!” He drove forward, hammering strikes that shook the metal plates beneath them. Tadek backed away, unable to find an opening while the aperture overhead pulled at the etherium in the room. [Passive Drain: -500,000 Power per second] [Passive Drain: -1,000,000 Power per second] The siphoning quickened. The interface was a conduit, but so was he. Tadek slipped under a downward hammer-strike and locked both hands onto Borislav’s forearm. Piston joints shrieked. Tadek leaned into the steel, forcing kinetic accumulation through his palms. Borislav laughed, iron teeth grinding behind his lips. “Futile! You cannot overpower the source!” The Chancellor wrenched his arm, hurling Tadek sideways into the copper stanchions. [Damage Taken: 500,000] [Health: 99.5%] Atmospheric pressure dropped as the purple tear expanded across the ceiling trusses, casting indigo shadows over the chamber. A familiar ache settled into Tadek’s knees. Too much movement. Too much running around. *Give in, little one. Let me take the reins. Let me finish this pathetic struggle.* Voroshan’s voice cut through the mental haze, cold and crisp, offering an easy surrender. Tadek hauled himself up. Borislav strode toward him, exhaust venting from his backplates. At the control bank, Ivelina pounded bypass levers as arc-flashes scorched her gloves. An acute irritation flared in Tadek’s chest. “No,” he muttered, his throat raw. “I am Tadek. Not your vessel.” He pushed off the iron frame. He wanted quiet, and neither a dead conqueror nor an unhinged headmaster was going to take it from him. Ivelina looked over her shoulder, soot smeared across her jaw. “Tadek, the core is at critical overload! We have seconds!” She struck the manual release, but the glass dials blew out in a hail of brass shards. “The bypass failed!” Borislav’s chest unit rumbled with mechanical laughter. “The threshold breaks!” He hoisted both gauntlets overhead, pistons whining as he prepared to crush the boy below. Tadek glanced from Borislav to the ruined switches, then to the main pressure cylinder humming behind them. His instincts settled on the path of least resistance. Trading blows with an armored cyborg was too much work. Patching shattered machinery was impossible. The easiest path was straight through. He took one step. Not toward the Chancellor. Not toward Ivelina. He turned toward the chamber's heart, stepping directly toward the sapphire-and-indigo field churning around the primary cylinder. Borislav checked his swing, optics dimming in momentary bafflement. “What foolishness is this? The containment field will disintegrate you!” Tadek ignored him. He took a second pace, then a third. No sprinting, no wasted exertion. Just a steady stroll into the vortex. The threshold hummed against his skin, prickling his forearms as the interface ticked upward in his vision. Tadek took one more step, walking directly into the exposed etheric column. Blinding brilliance washed over the deck plates. Raw etherium poured into his marrow, and the text feed scrolled past in an unreadable blur. [Core Multiplier: 999,999,999x] [Core Multiplier: 9,999,999,999x] [Core Multiplier: 99,999,999,999x] Light poured from his silhouette. The purple discharges feeding Borislav’s chassis snapped toward Tadek instead, pulled like iron filings to a lodestone. The overhead rift shuddered, its dark edges inverting as the siphon reversed. Borislav shrieked as his plating cracked from within, the steam vents choking on backdraft. “No! My ascension!” His reinforced frame crumpled into ash, the gears splintering before dissolving completely into the gale. The ceiling fissure imploded with a flat thud that rattled the stone foundations, snapping shut like an iron trap. Silence dropped over the floor. The central cylinder eased down to a low, rhythmic purr, its etheric conduits cooled to a pale blue sheen. Ivelina stood frozen beside the ruined panels, staring at the empty space where the Chancellor had stood, then up at Tadek. He swayed on his heels, thoroughly exhausted, and let his knees buckle. [ASCENDANT]

The Archon's Shadow