Finn felt blood rush to his head at the implications of what that meant for him, particularly regarding his return home. He had accepted his new reality, yes. But that didn't mean this couldn't trigger that same hope in him again.

He obviously knew he wasn't leaving anytime soon. Besides the fact that there were still many unknowns about this original Space magic bearer, even without having met the person, Finn definitely knew they were nowhere close to having the power to bend the space-time continuum to their will.

As he analyzed these implications, the General's final moments also played out before him.

The Agent moved with casual grace, swinging his sword down at the General in a blur of motion.

And despite the General's enhanced body, explosive speed, strength, and furious determination to land a hit… None of it mattered.

The sword passed through the General's guard like it didn't exist.

And not just once.

The Agent somehow still had the time to take a second swing. And a third. And a fourth…

The General's charge faltered. All the force he had built up seemed to disperse like dust scattered in the wind.

He stumbled, then staggered, tilting his head down slowly to look at the four precise cuts across his chest and throat.

His eyes met the Agent's for a final moment, and he tried to force out his last words.

But the action only served as a trigger to a fountain-show of spurting blood from his throat.

He clutched his neck desperately, stumbling, then collapsing fully to the ground as blood streamed out of the cuts on his body with a delayed effect, pooling in the dust beneath him.

The Agent flicked his sword once, cleaning the blade as it dissolved back into the ring. The dust began to settle, though it still remained enough to hide them from the view of the soldiers on the outside.

He turned back to Finn as if nothing significant had just happened.

"Now then. I know you don't like wasting time, so let's be direct. You need to come with me. I'm bringing you to the organization that handles Transcendents like yourself."

Finn barely heard him.

His gaze still lingered on the ring like he couldn't take his eyes off it.

"Oh? You're interested in the ring…" The Agent's voice suddenly broke him out of his thoughts.

The man raised his hand and looked at the ring admiringly.

"Hmm," he grunted. "I'd be too. It was made by a Transcendent... Someone like you, though their concept is quite different..."

Finn immediately reined in his expression to be neutral, reacting in a more measured manner as the Agent spoke about the origins of the ring.

The man had basically confirmed Finn was right about his earlier thoughts, though Finn already knew he was.

He filed the knowledge away and nodded calmly as if his interest was one of intrigue rather than one driven by recognition. He needed to be careful around the Agent.

Already, he could see the man observing him more pointedly, so he quickly shifted the subject.

"Elara."

The Agent's eyebrow rose slightly, and he stopped talking.

"My friend," Finn continued, this time with his voice taking on that cold, negotiating tone he'd perfected over two years of hollow existence. "She comes with me. Non-negotiable."

The Agent's expression flickered in annoyance for a second.

"Your friend," he repeated slowly. "You mean the girl who stood by you after you massacred forty-seven people. The one you nearly killed but couldn't bring yourself to finish." His eyes narrowed as if he was disappointed. "You're asking for special considerations for your lover?"

"I'm telling you she comes," Finn said flatly, not bothering to confirm or deny the Agent's words. "I have no problem leaving. But she's part of the arrangement."

In the past few days, Finn had come to a grim realization...

Elara was his vulnerability.

He didn't know exactly when the shift had begun, but the moment he tried to kill her, the truth finally crystallized. In this world that he cared nothing about, she was the only person who could hurt him simply by being hurt.

And if Finn was sure of one thing regarding the world of the powerful he was about to step into, it was this:

Vulnerabilities always got exploited.

He recognized this was the cold part of himself making the decision, like he was simply categorizing Elara as a variable again. But he allowed it.

Deep down he knew she was more than that to him. And that was why he also knew she must be close to him.

Somewhere he could react immediately if the world wanted to use her against him.

The Agent studied Finn more carefully, as if considering his offer. He could obviously tell Elara was important to Finn. But bringing along a normal Arcanist to a secret organization at the behest of one young man… It was something he didn't want to do if he could avoid it.

But from the look in Finn's eyes, he was especially adamant about this clause.

Finn could tell the Agent was displeased, but he couldn't care less about that. He knew the man would concede to his request regardless of the front he put up now.

Why?

Well, because of time.

It was something Finn had noticed for a while despite the Agent trying to act so in-control and unbothered.

They'd been inside this dust barrier for several minutes now. Long enough that the soldiers outside would be getting restless. Long enough that wild speculations about what Finn had displayed earlier would be spreading through their ranks like wildfire.

"We've been in here a while," Finn pressed the Agent further. "The soldiers are probably coming up with all sorts of imaginative explanations for what's happening. Government conspiracies… Secret knowledge… Who knows what else."

The Agent's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Finn continued. "And I imagine you don't want that. No — I know you don't want too many stories floating around before your people can properly... manage the narrative."

For a long moment, the Agent said nothing. Then something dangerous entered his expression — a subtle shift that made Finn's survival instincts flare.

He scoffed.

"I like your audacity. You're very perceptive and understand how to use leverage." His voice dropped low. "But if you press too long on this term you want, you'll leave me with no choice."

He gestured at the barrier around them, at the soldiers beyond.

"If too much time passes, if the ideas spreading among the witnesses get uncontrollable and too close to the truth..." He met Finn's eyes. "Then killing everyone here becomes the simpler solution. It would be much cleaner. Less fallout than trying to manage a narrative that's already taken root in too many minds."

The words were delivered with the same casual tone he'd used discussing the ring. As if mass murder was simply another administrative option to be weighed against its alternatives.

Finn held his gaze, not flinching.

Because he understood perfectly well that the Agent wasn't bluffing. This was simply how things worked at this level. Acceptable losses. Cost-benefit analysis. The value of one girl versus the security risk of too much exposure.

But Finn called his bluff.

The Agent wouldn't have bothered with the threat if he'd already decided to refuse.

"She comes with me," Finn repeated flatly. "Or we keep talking until you run out of time."

A lull of silence passed between them as the seconds ticked.

Then, abruptly, the Agent's expression shifted.

"Fine." He hissed silently. "She comes. But she's your responsibility. If she becomes a problem, you will also bear the repercussions."

"She won't."

The Agent snorted, already preparing himself for the next thing.

He breathed out and straightened his uniform. The air around him changed, becoming more dignified as he seemed to carry himself with more grace and authority — The authority of a General about to address his soldiers.

He strode toward Finn, muttering a chant under his breath, and immediately, chains materialized from the ring on his hand.

A Mana-suppressing artifact.

Finn didn't resist as the Agent clamped them around his wrists. The metal was cold, and he felt an immediate dampening sensation, like a wet blanket thrown over a flame. His connection to mana became even more muted and difficult to sense.

A frown colored his face at the unnatural feeling.

He'd gotten so used to having mana at his disposal at all times that he'd forgotten how it was not to feel mana at all.

The Agent positioned himself over the General's corpse, one boot near the dead man's shoulder, and his expression hardened like a man who'd just fought a desperate battle.

Then he dispersed the wind barrier.

The dust settled rapidly, revealing the scene to the assembled soldiers who'd been watching the opaque dome with growing unease.

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