Cosmic Crucible

Chapter 8: Pyro-Crystal

Lucien Vance observed the scene as he casually ordered two dishes. Any eatery still operating in these times clearly had powerful backing—enough to deter troublemakers. Judgment Corps soldiers patrolled past the door every two minutes, proof of special protection.

"Your food. Enjoy," the server announced, sliding three plates toward Lucien before retreating without a glance.

Lucien took a bite and grimaced. Though mediocre, it surpassed rat or mutated hound meat. Unfolding his map, he studied it while eating.

He hadn’t finished when a dozen figures stormed in. The owner’s eyes lit up. "Young Master Kael! Please come in! We’d have delivered in this downpour!"

Kael Roderick grunted, slumping into a seat near Lucien. After a dismissive glance, he rapped the table. "Bring him."

Thud! A man crashed onto splintered stool remnants, trembling before Kael. "Forgive me, Young Master! Had I known it was yours, I’d never dare steal it! Spare me!"

Kael sneered. "Spare you? One item’s missing. Pay thirty Bio-Crystals or die. Choose."

"Please! I’ll serve you like a dog!" the man begged.

Kael slammed the table, pressing a pistol to his temple. "No crystals? Then farewell."

The man’s desperate gaze darted to Lucien. "Him! I gave it to him!"

All eyes locked on Lucien.

He set down his water glass, silent. He’d recognized the trembling man—Silas Third, the shifty Evolver who sold him the map. Three Bio-Crystals for a map, plus a "bonus" Vigor Capsule. An odd generosity; those elixirs were pricey. Now it was clear: stolen goods from Kael Roderick.

Kael kicked Silas. "Silas! You’d pin this on some stranger?"

"It’s true!" Silas scrambled, pointing at Lucien’s table. "That map’s mine! See the corner mark!"

Kael’s crew scrutinized the map. Lucien himself spotted the faint mark.

They surrounded his table, dragging Silas with them. "Hand over what you stole, friend," Kael demanded.

"Scram," Lucien replied flatly.

Kael’s face darkened. His men bristled. "You dare disrespect Young Master Kael in Citadel Auros?" one spat as another lunged.

Lucien flicked a chopstick. It whistled through the air, piercing three attackers’ arms before thunking into the wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across plaster as blood sprayed tables. Screams erupted.

Kael stumbled back, paling. His men scrambled away. The owner bolted.

"My uncle’s a Judicator Legion Commander!" Kael aimed his shaking pistol. "Don’t make this worse! Return it!"

"Tossed it," Lucien stated.

Kael snarled, "Don’t lie! My uncle’s a Terra-tier warrior! Cross him and despair!"

Lucien arched a brow. "If your uncle’s Terra-tier... why’d he need Vigor Capsules?"

"You insult Legion Commander Conrad?!" Kael shrieked. "Pike! Summon Uncle Conrad!"

Lucien’s blade-sharp gaze shifted to Silas. Wrong assumption. Kael wants something else. This weasel had redirected blame, making Lucien the scapegoat.

Silas cowered under his stare.

Lucien almost smiled. Blame meant nothing to him. But a Judicator Legion Commander’s prized possession? Terra’s evolution birthed rare treasures—precisely why cosmic academies sent students here. Conrad Magnus might have found something valuable.

A middle-aged man entered, waving off Judicator soldiers outside. Conrad Magnus scanned the room.

"Uncle Conrad!" Kael cried, pistol steadying.

Lucien recognized him—one of Zoya Rain’s defeated opponents earlier that day.

"Found it?" Conrad rumbled.

Kael pointed at Lucien. "He has it!"

Conrad’s eyes met Lucien’s. His face transformed. Hours ago, he’d watched Zoya Rain—the Frost Witch—fight. Yet she’d been helpless against Lucien Vance. Conrad had craved his mentorship. Meeting like this was... awkward.

"Brother Lucien!" Conrad beamed, oozing false warmth as he hurried over.

Lucien smiled faintly. "Brother Conrad. Dining here?"

"Brother Lee owns this place," Conrad gestured vaguely. "About my nephew’s folly... I beg your forgiveness." He glared at Kael. "Apologize!"

Kael bowed deeply. "My eyes failed to see the mountain before me. Forgive my offense, Legion Commander Lucien."

Lucien waved a dismissive hand.

Conrad ushered Kael out but halted when Lucien pointed at Silas. "He stays."

Once gone, the owner served Lucien complimentary dishes with trembling hands.

​Outside​

"Why bow to him, Uncle? Is he a Legion Commander too?" Kael whispered.

Conrad Magnus gripped his shoulder. "That man could shatter me with a finger. Only the Paragon of Judgment might best him in Citadel Auros. Even Lee Magnus would struggle."

Kael’s jaw dropped as he fled the death he’d narrowly escaped.

​Inside​

Lucien’s gaze frosted over Silas. "Bold move, framing me."

Silas trembled on the floor. "Pyro-Crystals... I sold them," he choked out.

"Warm to the touch?" Lucien probed.

Silas jolted. "How’d you—?"

Flame-sealed crystals. Ignite on contact. Essential for fire Combat Arts. Cosmic hard currency. On Terra? Priceless. No wonder Conrad panicked.

"Where’d you find them?"

"Don’t know..."

Lucien twirled a chopstick. "So you gift me an enemy... and I get nothing?"

"Mercy!" Silas kowtowed (forehead-to-ground bow), bruising his brow.

Lucien shook his head. Just rattling him. Apocalypse nerves needed loosening sometimes. He drained his water glass. Time to move.