The interior of the siphoning chamber was a theater of spectral agony. Astra stood frozen, her fingers locked around the crystal vial as if it were the only solid object in a dissolving universe. Beside her, Dante was a silent titan of shadow, his Alpha aura being peeled away in long, wispy ribbons of amber light that spiraled into the intake vents of the central core. They were caught in a psychic feedback loop, their minds trapped in the overlapping memories of the Great Slum Fire. For Astra, the world was a wall of orange heat and the sound of her mother’s fading scream. For Dante, it was the cold realization of an empire built on a foundation of ash.
The world was gray, silent, and ending.
Then, the blue light hit.
It wasn't a gentle awakening. It was a kinetic sledgehammer. When Le
