The high-pitched whine of the Neural Spire's central processor grew into a roar. The six leaders of the Council clutched their life-support tubes, their digital masks flickering between human faces and distorted static.
"Stop it, Arkanos!" the lead Councilor shrieked, his voice no longer synthesized but thin and fragile. "If you crash the Spire's network, the entire city's life-support will fail! Millions will die in the dark!"
Ray didn't flinch. His hand was still pressed against the liquid metal floor, sending surges of violet mana into the building's core. "You've used those millions as human batteries for centuries. Don't pretend to care about them now."
But Ray wasn't just crashing the system. He was 'Reading' it.
Through the golden mesh on his arms—the gift from the Rust-Walkers—Ray saw the world in lines of code. He saw the 'Great Lie' of Science City. The city wasn't powered by a sun or a reactor; it was a giant ritual circle, designed to sacrifice the mana of every citizen to keep six men immortal.
"Code-Breaker: Ancient Resonance!" Ray roared.
He didn't destroy the network. He 'Re-wrote' it.
Suddenly, the shimmering hexagonal shields around the Council members turned from gold to a sickly, rotting green. The energy they were stealing began to flow backward.
"What... what are you doing?" one of the Councilors gasped, his skin visibly wrinkling as the stolen life-force left his body.
"I'm returning the stolen property," Ray said, his eyes glowing like twin supernovae. "The 'Broken Code' isn't my magic. It's your own greed coming back for its interest."
Outside the Spire, the citizens of the Lower Districts felt something they hadn't felt in generations. The constant, soul-crushing fatigue was lifting. Their neural implants—the ones the Council used to control them—began to glow with a soft, warm violet light.
Ray was liberating an entire city's population from a digital cage.
WARNING: SYSTEM CRITICAL OVERHEAT.
The throne room began to vibrate. The ceiling, a massive dome of smart-glass, started to crack.
"Ray, we have to move!" Elara yelled, grabbing his shoulder. "The Spire is purging its heat-sinks. The whole top floor is about to become a furnace!"
Ray looked at the withered, dying husks of the Council leaders. They weren't threats anymore; they were just shadows of a dead era.
"The king is dead," Ray whispered, turning away as the first explosion rocked the room. "Long live the Void."