Perched three stories above the cobblestone path on the roof of a tavern, Soren lay flat on his stomach, overlooking a sprawling city that stretched well beyond the horizon.
Throughout the streets, golden banners and floating orbs displaying shows of light filled the air with a sense of importance.
Directly below him was a shadow-draped alleyway flanked by two stone walls and two streets away, directly across from him, a guard leaned against a stone pillar.
Soren wore a heavy, dark-green cloak that made the sweltering midday sun almost intolerable.
His messy, jet-black hair clung to his forehead as he fanned himself with his hand, finding no relief.
“Ugh,” Soren groaned, moving to the edge of the roof and looking over the edge as he pressed a finger against the cheap crystal communicator wedged in his ear.
“It’s so damn hot out here.
Do we seriously have to wear these cloaks?”
A lone figure, wearing the same cloak, leaned against a wall with his eyes closed.
His long, golden hair spilled over the collar, and he looked entirely peaceful until Soren’s complaint buzzed through his earpiece.
“Can you shut your mouth for one moment?” Shindo asked, opening his eyes to glare up at Soren.
“I’m not going to deal with your complaining.”
Soren smirked and raised his middle finger down toward Shindo.
“Why not?
You have to admit it’s a great plan.
We’ll snag the riches and become rich ourselves!” Soren said, laughing into his communicator.
“You’re so dumb,” Shindo scoffed, pulling up the hood sewn into the cloak.
“It’s risky enough going for the guard’s sword, but you want to steal the money pouch right next to it?
And you’re trusting Malphas of all people?
I’m telling you that guy is fishy, dumbass.”
Soren looked at Shindo, seemingly hurt, before a grin spread across his face.
“Ahaha!” he laughed, sounding triumphant.
“Oh, so stoic Shindo got mad at little ol’ me.
Relax.
Everyone will be at the Grand Stage.
Not a single soul will even know we pulled off the heist.”
Soren looked beyond the alleyway’s entrance with his semi-enchanted binoculars and saw a giant figure sleeping against a stone pillar a couple streets down.
“The idiot is even sleeping on the job!” Soren exclaimed, grinning at the sight.
“Literally nothing could be more perfect than today.
I don’t get why you hate Malphas so much.
He’s an information broker and his entire job is to gather correct information!
He said he’ll let me take all the loot as an early birthday gift.”
Soren was drooling at the prospect of stealing the guard’s gear.
The loot was too enticing, and as a nice bonus, he would get to mess with the guards.
They always had it out for the scavengers, and if he could get one up on them—even if he didn’t score—he’d sleep well tonight.
Shindo rudely broke his daydreaming with an annoyed sigh.
“Since when does that rat give away an easy score out of the goodness of his heart?” Shindo muttered, checking the buckles on his boots.
“He’d never miss out on the riches if not credit unless there’s a catch.
If this goes wrong, it’s on you.”
Soren put down the binoculars and tsked in disappointment.
“Don’t go moping around.
Even if there is a catch, just the chance of getting all the loot is worth the risk,” Soren replied haughtily, returning to his scouting.
“But I mean it!
The job will earn us a lot of favor with the boss… It’ll be like taking treasure from a dragon!”
Soren graciously ignored Shindo’s mumbled “dumbass” and scouted the area near the guard with his enhanced binoculars.
The once-bustling streets were empty except for the single guard who somehow remained asleep at his post.
The citizens were all at the Grand Stage to witness the Grand Coronation, where the Emperor would pass the crown to the soon-to-be Empress of Vulcanis—the one and only greatest Empire of the South.
It was a tradition that occurred perhaps once a century, when the Emperor of the Royal Family passed the crown to his child, signaling the start of a new era within Vulcanis.
The transition always sent waves rippling across the entire continent—Atheo.
While it would normally affect the lives of regular Vulcanis citizens, Soren felt nothing.
After all, he was a scavenger.
Lowest of the low.
Scum that lived off whatever they could scrape together.
His life was already terrible, and nothing in the world could possibly make it worse than it currently was.
He was rock bottom, and he was sure of that.
Soren cleared his throat, trying to alleviate his nervousness.
He wasn’t even stealing—Shindo had adamantly volunteered, insisting that Soren was simply “too weak” to compete with him.
While Soren was indignant, he couldn’t really argue, since it was true that Shindo was abnormally strong.
Shindo’s strength was all over the place, almost as if he didn’t know his own power, and it pissed Soren off.
“Are you insulting me in your head again?” Shindo’s voice echoed in his ear, startling him.
“If you are, stop.
Get your head in the game.
I think the Grand Coronation is about to start.”
A crackle permeated the air before instruments began to play.
The Grand Coronation had begun.
Soren breathed out, clearing his mind of distractions.
His heart calmed and his mind sharpened.
The communications went silent—the signal that the operation had started.
He pulled the binoculars to his eyes and twisted the top to enhance the magnification.
He brought the lens to the Emperor, who descended from the sky to stand at the Grand Stage, where the Empress knelt, bowing before the Divine Emperor—her father.
Soren quickly pulled the binoculars back and refocused on the sleeping guard, who breathed deeply in and out.
A voice filled the city of Genesity, magically amplified by the Emperor’s authority.
“Children of the Great Empire of Vulcanis, look upon me.
Today marks the start of a new era.
One that shall spark changes that transcend time.”
Soren ignored the Emperor and kept his attention on the task, tuning out the unimportant variables.
He saw the streets within a large radius around the guard were empty, without a single person in sight, and smiled.
“You’re clear,” he whispered.
“Not a single person nearby.
They’re all at the Grand Stage a couple miles down.
Go.”
Shindo immediately took action, tightening his hood and walking to the entrance of the alleyway.
After confirming it was safe, he slipped out and lurked within the shadows, drawing closer to the guard without revealing his presence.
“Even the strongest iron will grow brittle under the undying heat,” the Emperor boomed, the burning sun growing a bit hotter.
“So I must pass the mantle.”
Soren adjusted the binoculars and focused tightly on the guard sleeping against the pillar—his breath hitched.
Something was wrong.
Through the enchanted lenses, Soren could just make out the guard’s right hand.
It wasn’t resting casually against his torso.
His fingers were wrapped firmly around his scabbard, his thumb resting on the hilt of the crossguard—ready to draw in a fraction of a second.
Worse, the guard’s visor wasn’t angled downwards to the ground anymore but tilted just enough to see the street Shindo was approaching.
Then Soren saw it.
The guard sleepily moved his hand against his neck, almost as if scratching it while asleep.
But through his enchanted lens, Soren could see clearly.
He spoke two soundless words into his collar.
He had been standing against the stone pillar in the open plaza the entire time, waiting for them—not asleep as they had been led to believe.
A setup.
Ice flooded Soren’s veins despite the midday heat.
‘Malphas, you sniveling rat…’
The pieces clicked together with horrifying clarity.
Malphas hadn’t handed them an easy score out of generosity or as a gift—he had sold them false information.
Soren slammed his finger against his ear crystal.
“Shindo, abort!
It’s a trap!
He sees you—”
A sharp, piercing squeal of interference shattered the audio line.
Soren yanked the crystal from his ear with a curse, watching the blue glow in its center flicker and die.
Shindo was still creeping forward, a mere dozen paces from the pillar, entirely unaware that the guard’s blade was about to leave its sheath.
Panic seized Soren as a shiver ran down his spine, thousands of needles pricking at him from every part of his body.
He quickly scrambled to his feet, frantically searching his cloak for something to grab Shindo’s attention until he found a crossbow.
He pulled it out and loaded his one and only trusty bolt, aiming at Shindo.
Though it wasn’t his greatest idea, he steadied his breath, stilled his shaky hands, and fired.
“And through the Divine Will of the Council of Vulcanis,” the Emperor said, bringing a slight chill through the air, “I will issue the Royal Decree before passing the crown to Empress Meridia.”
The bolt streaked across Genesity, heading straight for the guard.
Before the steel tip could strike pavement, the hulking guard pivoted with terrifying speed.
His heavy steel sword left its scabbard in a blur of silver light, the flat of the blade smacking the crossbow bolt out of the air.
The guard’s unblinking eyes snapped upward, locking directly onto Soren’s figure on the three-story roof.
There was no surprise in his posture—only a cold, calculating gaze.
“Ambush!” Soren yelled, his voice carrying across the empty streets.
Realizing they were busted, Shindo dove sideways into the deeper shadows of a nearby alley just as the guard reared his sword back.
The guard channeled a surge of power to his arm, and he hurled the heavy longsword straight down the length of the alley.
The weapon sheared through the air like a cannonball.
By pure instinct or brute agility, Shindo threw his body sideways against the masonry.
The sword missed his neck by an inch, impaling itself half a foot deep into the stone wall behind him with a deafening crack.
Without pausing, Shindo scrambled around the corner of a rusted iron dumpster, breaking line of sight.
“I have noticed the rot of our society that must be cleansed,” the Emperor whispered quietly, sending a chill through everyone’s heart.
Soren breathed a sigh of relief before narrowing his eyes as he saw the guard crouch into a running stance, the muscles of his legs rippling as he stared at where Shindo had disappeared.
“And I have declared that all Undercity dwellers,” the Emperor said, freezing Soren, who turned to look at the Emperor, “must be hunted and extermin—”
The Emperor’s words died in the air.
A deafening roar shook the world before the Emperor collapsed, eyes and mouth agape as he shriveled into a dry corpse.
Silence stretched for a moment before the distant screams of Vulcanis’s citizens erupted from the Grand Stage.
The Empress stared at the corpse in disbelief, confusion and surprise written across her face.
Soren took a step back from the sight, dropping the binoculars, which tumbled off the roof.
He felt a pulsing sensation in his chest and looked down to see his necklace—a white orb—faintly glowing with white radiance.
“What the…”
And then the world fell silent.
Soren opened his mouth to speak but found he couldn’t get any words out.
He desperately looked around until he saw a beacon of black light shining from the Grand Stage.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what it was, before stilling as fear gripped every fiber of his being.
He had read about this.
Hell, every single person in Atheo knew about this phenomenon.
The black beacon rumbled before producing an eerie, otherworldly noise.
Then existence itself tore.
A sphere of Abyssal black expanded at a harrowing rate, rapidly consuming everything and everyone without discretion.
The pitch-black void swallowed the world and its laws, catching much of the city of Genesity within its lightless clutches.
For a single breath’s moment, the world stopped.
Then, just as quickly as it had eclipsed Genesity, it snapped back.
The sphere of nothingness condensed just as violently as it had expanded, collapsing into a jagged, purple tear where the Emperor’s corpse had been.
But there was no corpse.
The phenomenon was a Divine disaster that produced an Order Break.
Nothing remained but a small, pulsing purple rift at the center of all the devastation.