The aftermath of the encounter weighed heavily on Albert.
The research lab remained eerily silent after the Quantum Shroud operative disappeared, its emergency lights flickering against the scorched walls. The faint scent of burnt circuits lingered in the air. Albert's Binding still pulsed around his hands, unstable, raw.
And his father stood before him, utterly composed, as if none of it had mattered.
Albert clenched his fists. "You call that a lesson?"
Albert Sr. studied him, his expression unreadable. "If you had been stronger, faster, smarter, you wouldn't be standing there, questioning me. You would have won."
Albert's jaw tightened. "That wasn't a test. That was a real enemy. If I had lost—"
"You would have died," his father interrupted. His voice was cold but final. "And what would you expect then? That I would come rushing in to save you?"
Albert's stomach twisted, his breathing uneven. "You could have helped."
His father's gaze bore into him, unyielding. "Help is a privilege, not a guarantee."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. The fire in Albert's chest burned brighter, but so did something else—the painful weight of truth.
Albert Sr. finally turned away. "Follow me."
Albert hesitated, anger thrumming in his veins, but he forced himself to comply.
---
The Labyrinth Below
His father led him deeper into the research wing, past shattered panels and malfunctioning security drones. They approached a reinforced door that shouldn't have been there—Albert had memorized the tower's structure, but this passage was new.
His father placed his hand on the scanner. A soft hum resonated, and the door slid open to reveal a dimly lit chamber.
The moment Albert stepped inside, his chest tightened.
Suspended in cylindrical stasis pods, dozens of armored figures floated in quantum-preserved containment. The armor—dark, sleek, and lined with pulsing blue veins—was identical to the operative he had just fought.
Quantum Shroud technology.
His blood ran cold. "You're… keeping them here?"
His father didn't answer immediately. He walked to one of the pods, placing his hand against the reinforced glass. "Capturing them isn't easy. Killing them is even harder."
Albert stared at the eerie, motionless figures. Some were damaged—fractured visors, scorched armor—evidence of brutal fights.
"These are the ones we could recover," his father continued. "Every time one falls, two more take their place. We are fighting an enemy that doesn't fear death. An enemy that exists beyond the veil of this world."
Albert turned to him sharply. "And you used one of them to test me?"
His father met his gaze. "I needed to see if you were ready."
Albert scoffed, stepping back. "Ready for what?"
His father exhaled slowly. "You are strong, Albert. But you still don't understand the depth of this war. I've kept you shielded, but the time for protection is over."
Albert swallowed, his mind racing. "What do they want?"
A shadow passed over his father's expression. "They seek something that should never be found."
His father's Aetherion interface flickered, and the walls of the chamber shifted. A holographic projection emerged in the air—a pulsating black sphere, its surface constantly shifting between existence and nothingness.
Albert froze.
He had seen this before. In his mother's notes. In the whispers of forbidden research.
The Quantum Shroud's true objective.
"…The Eclipse Core," Albert muttered.
His father turned to him, eyes sharp. "Now you begin to understand."
---
The Forbidden Core
The Eclipse Core was more than just a theory.
For years, Albert had only known fragments—vague mentions in EvoTech's restricted archives, warnings buried in old files. His mother had spoken of it once, years ago, in hushed tones.
A source of power beyond the known universe. A force that defied time, space, and even Aetherion itself.
And now, standing in front of the projection, Albert realized the horrifying truth.
The Quantum Shroud wasn't just after technology or power.
They were after the foundation of reality itself.
His breath came quicker. "If they get it—"
His father cut him off. "They won't."
Albert turned to him, disbelief in his eyes. "You don't know that."
His father's silence confirmed his worst fears.
They didn't have a plan.
They were barely holding the line.
Albert exhaled, rubbing his temples. His mother's death, the Quantum Shroud's growing attacks, the academy, his own lack of control—it was all spiraling into something much larger than he had imagined.
"I need time to think."
His father gave a small nod, as if expecting this. "Then think fast."
The holographic projection faded, leaving only the cold hum of the containment pods.
Albert turned away, his mind a whirlwind of revelations.
Everything he knew about this war—about his family, his training, his mother's death—was just the beginning.
And time was running out.