The Neural Spire groaned like a dying beast of steel. Massive sheets of reinforced glass shattered, falling through the clouds like diamond rain.
"Ray, the ventilation shafts! It's the only way out before the heat-sink detonates!" Elara pulled Ray toward a heavy, circular hatch at the back of the throne room.
Ray looked back one last time at the six shriveled husks of the Council leaders. They were no longer the gods of Science City; they were just memories. But as the Spire shook, Ray felt something—a hidden frequency, vibrating from a secret floor deep beneath the building.
"There's more, Elara," Ray said, his voice deep and vibrating with the power of the Nexus. "The Council were just puppets. The real strings are pulled from the 'Forbidden Sector'."
"We don't have time for mysteries!" Elara shoved him into the shaft just as a pillar of white-hot fire consumed the throne room.
They slid down thousands of feet, guided by Ray's violet mana acting as a magnetic brake. When they finally hit the bottom, they weren't in the slums, and they weren't in the Rust-Walkers' base.
They were in a place the maps didn't show.
A massive, underground dome made of ancient stone, not steel. Here, the air was thick with pure, raw mana—so thick it glowed like a golden mist. In the center of the dome stood a machine that looked half-magical, half-mechanical: The Chronos Engine.
"My father's research..." Ray whispered, his eyes widening as he recognized the blueprint. "They didn't kill him to stop magic. They killed him to build a bridge to the Past."
Suddenly, the golden mist began to swirl. A holographic projection of a man appeared—a man who looked exactly like Ray, only older, with the same violet eyes.
"If you are seeing this, Ray... then I have already failed. But the Forbidden Sector is more than a laboratory. It is a bunker. A way to reclaim the world we lost."
Ray reached out his hand, but the hologram flickered. Outside, the sounds of war were intensifying. The Hexagon Council's remaining army, the 'Iron-Legion', was descending upon the city to reclaim the Spire.
Ray turned to Elara, his face set in a mask of absolute determination. The tattoos on his arms began to burn with a new, golden light.
"They think they've seen my power," Ray said, looking up at the ceiling of the dome. "They haven't seen anything yet. Today, I don't just liberate a city. I take back the throne of the Forbidden Mage."