The wounds had closed.The blood had dried.But the ache… the ache never stopped.
Ezra sat on the edge of a low rooftop overlooking the broken skyline of Sector 7 — the Lower Zone of New York. The moon cut a narrow silver line across the smog, casting long shadows over rusted husks of buildings and flickering neon signs.
It should've felt like a victory.He'd survived the Trial. Earned his first rank.But all he could feel was loss.
[Status Update – Ezra Vale]Rank: FTitle: Hollowborn InitiateStat Points: 3 (Unallocated)New Trait: Mirrorwalker (I)Summons: Skulk (Wounded), Gloom (Unbound), Ash (Shattered)Mana Pool: 65/90Strength: 14 | Vitality: 12 | Intelligence: 10 | Dexterity: 9 | Charisma: 6
The silence gnawed at him.
Gloom was gone.Ash — his first true summon — shattered beyond recovery.
Skulk limped nearby, its claws clicking softly on the metal as it stalked the edge of the rooftop. Ezra hadn't dismissed it. Not yet. Not while the weight in his chest still felt raw.
He rolled a bone shard between his fingers.
Half of Ash's core.
He didn't know if it was possible to rebuild a summon from a shard — no one he knew did. But he refused to throw it away.
"Next time," he whispered. "Next time I'll be stronger."
The next morning, Ezra descended into the chaos of Sector 7's underground.What passed for a "market" was more like a black-market bazaar built on scavenged concrete and wired fencing. It was loud, hectic, and thick with the scent of rust, sweat, and mana discharge.
Everyone moved with purpose. The newly Awakened bartered their system stones for scraps of armor or low-tier weapons. Traders screamed over each other. Mana sensors clicked softly in the background, scanning for illegal enchantments.
Ezra's eyes scanned for one person.
And found her — exactly where she said she'd be.
"You're late," said Riven, sipping from a thermos like she hadn't just spent the night embedded in gang-controlled territory. Her jacket was sleeveless today, showing the sharp lines of her runes and the glimmer of mana coursing through her left arm. Her black braid was coiled tight against her back.
Ezra raised an eyebrow. "You're one to talk about punctuality."
"I'm punctual when it's important."
"This isn't?"
Her mouth twitched. "You made it out of a Trial. That's rare for a nobody."
He stepped forward, deadpan. "You're really bad at compliments."
"I'm not here to stroke your ego. I'm here because you need gear. And knowledge." She tapped her comm-bead. "I pulled some favors. You're officially F-Rank now. That opens some doors — and locks others."
Ezra narrowed his eyes. "Like?"
"You'll be tested constantly. Challenged. Every low-tier guild will want to chew you up, and the high-tier ones won't look twice — unless you do something that makes them scared." She glanced at Skulk, who stood watch behind him. "And right now? You're dangerous… but not yet scary."
He looked down at his hands. "Then I need to get stronger."
Riven nodded.
"Good. Because I'm taking you to someone who'll help."
Sector 6 – The Boneforge
Ezra followed Riven through the winding maze of tunnels connecting Sector 7 to its more stable neighbor, Sector 6. The air grew less foul the deeper they went, replaced by sterile metallic tang. It wasn't cleaner — just contained.
The Boneforge wasn't marked on any maps. It was hidden behind an abandoned train station, sealed off by thick glyphs. Riven tapped a code into a rusted console, and the wall hissed open like a vault.
Inside was… surreal.
Skulls lined the walls in symmetrical patterns, each embedded with crystals. Mechanical limbs hung suspended in tanks. At the center of the room stood a giant obsidian table shaped like a sarcophagus.
And behind it…
"Welcome," came a voice — deep, cracked like shattered bone. "So, this is the Hollowborn."
Ezra stiffened. The man who stepped from the shadows was pale, tall, and entirely bald, wearing a robe woven with necrotic sigils that shimmered faintly in the dim light. His eyes glowed faintly green, and his left arm was entirely skeletal — but moved like flesh.
"Name's Wren," he said. "Master of Bonecraft. Former A-Rank Necromancer before I lost this," he gestured to his arm, "in a dungeon collapse."
Riven cut in. "He's the only one I trust to rebuild or enhance undead without them going berserk."
Ezra held out the shard of Ash's core. "Can this be salvaged?"
Wren took it with care, eyes narrowing. "This isn't a typical summon. There's… something else in here."
He turned to a crystal matrix and slid the shard into a socket. The table lit up with runes, forming the vague silhouette of Ash's skeletal form.
"Interesting," he muttered. "Your summons retain memory echoes."
Ezra blinked. "What?"
"Most necromancers re-summon bone puppets — shells. Yours carry fragments. Personality. Identity. Loyalty. That's why their deaths hit harder."
Ezra said nothing, but the shard in his hand pulsed faintly in response.
Wren looked up. "I can rebuild it. But it will cost you."
Ezra's stomach tightened. "How much?"
"A favor. In blood."
Ezra hesitated. "Whose?"
Wren smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "Does it matter?"
That night, Ezra accepted.
The ritual was long — hours of chanting, bone-carving, and mana infusion. Skulk stood guard while Riven monitored the perimeter, wary of the strange hum that echoed beneath the Boneforge.
Ash's new form began to emerge — sleeker, taller, plated in fused bone and metal. Its skull bore runes that hadn't been there before. It wasn't just a summon now.
It was an evolved remnant.
[Ash has been Reforged]Type: Bone Revenant (F+)Abilities: Shadow Leap, Hardened Spine Lance, Bone VeilTraits: Memory Echo, Unyielding Loyalty
Wren stepped back, sweat glistening on his pale brow. "There. You now wield something… closer to a soul-bound revenant."
Ezra reached forward, hand trembling slightly as Ash's hollow eyes lit up and locked with his.
A pulse of recognition passed between them.
Ash knelt.
Ezra whispered, "Welcome back."
The next morning brought no rest.
A massive boom rocked Sector 7. Ezra rushed out of the underground tunnels and found chaos unfolding in the streets. Civilians were running. Alarms blared from half-functional watchtowers. Guild banners were torn and fluttered in the air like broken wings.
He barely turned the corner before a notification popped up.
[Emergency Raid Event: Tier D Gate Breach]Location: Outer Wall – Slum BorderEntity Type: Ravager Class – Feral ReaversThreat Level: HighRank Required: F and aboveSystem Notice: No external reinforcements available. You are on your own.
Ezra looked down at his hands.
Riven had told him to lay low and train. That more time would mean more control. That his power was still unstable.
But he remembered the Mirrorbound.The screams.The weight.
And he remembered something else.
"If you want to matter in this world, Vale… make them remember your name."
He clenched his jaw.
"Ash. Skulk. With me."
And together, they ran toward the breach.
Outer Wall – Slum Border
The scene was devastation.
Buildings had collapsed, shredded by clawed limbs and acidic bile. Guild members fought back desperately, outnumbered and overwhelmed. The Reavers — four-legged creatures with obsidian hides and bladed tongues — darted through alleyways like living nightmares.
A guild merc screamed as one tore through his armor.
Ezra didn't hesitate.
"Ash — cut left flank! Skulk — right! Funnel them in!"
He charged the center — bone daggers glowing with stolen mana, the air behind him thick with necrotic mist.
His foot slammed into the lead Reaver's head, knocking it sideways. Another lunged — Ezra dropped low, slashing across its underbelly and yanking out its spine in a single twisting motion.
[Necromancer Ability – Bone Coil (I) unlocked]Strangle or bind enemies with the extracted spine of a defeated target.Cost: 15 MP
He whipped the coil through the air and wrapped it around a second Reaver's throat, yanking it into Ash's reach.
Ash impaled it instantly.
More came.
But Ezra no longer hesitated.
He fought.
Every movement, every command, every moment of risk — it all meant something.
Because for the first time in his life…
He had earned this power.