Walking on air was like stepping on a sheet of invisible glass that hummed with static electricity. Every time Ray's boot touched the sky, a ripple of blue light expanded outwards, creating a temporary platform for Elara to follow.
"Ray, look up!" Elara's voice was barely a whisper, choked with terror.
Above the dark clouds of the High City, three massive, triangular shadows emerged. These weren't bombers; they were 'Star-Eaters'—orbital satellites that had descended into the atmosphere. Their undersides began to glow with a sickly, white heat.
"Target locked," a cold, AI voice boomed from the sky, echoing through the empty streets below. "Initiating Ion-Purge in 5 seconds."
"They're going to burn the entire sector just to get us!" Elara cried, clutching Ray's arm.
Ray didn't run. He stood still, nine hundred floors above the ground, looking up at the weapons of the gods. "They call this science. I call it a lack of imagination."
Ray closed his eyes. The Mini-Nexus in his chest began to spin at an impossible speed. He didn't just use his own mana; he reached out and grabbed the 'Magnetic Field' of the planet itself.
4... 3... 2...
The Star-Eaters fired. Three massive pillars of white ion-energy rained down, aimed directly at Ray's head.
"Mana Inverse: Heaven's Mirror!" Ray roared.
Instead of a shield, Ray created a giant, crystalline lens in the air. As the ion-beams hit the lens, they didn't explode. They were bent, refracted, and sent spiraling back upward.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Star-Eaters' own energy hit their hulls. One satellite disintegrated instantly in a ball of white fire, while the other two spun out of control, their engines screaming as they crashed into the distant industrial zone.
Ray didn't even break a sweat. He looked at the falling debris, his silver tattoos glowing with a fierce, satisfied light. "The stars belong to the universe, not to a council of old men."
But as the smoke cleared, Ray felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The Mini-Nexus was stable, but his human heart was struggling to keep up with the god-like output. He stumbled, the blue platforms beneath his feet flickering for a second.
"Ray!" Elara caught him. "We need to get to the ground. Your body... it's red-lining."
"I'm fine," Ray gasped, though his vision was blurring. "We just... need to reach the 'Lower Districts'. There's someone there I need to meet."
As they descended toward the darkness of the city's slums, a pair of glowing red eyes watched them from a nearby rooftop. It wasn't a drone, and it wasn't a sentinel. It was something faster, something more organic.
The Council had sent their final assassin: The Shadow-Blade.