No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

Ji Chen cleared his throat, fingers flicking through holographic screens. "I'll try to trace the digital signature embedded in the convergence node pulses. Maybe I can find whoever's rerouting the mana."

"You sure that's safe?" Jiang asked, already frowning.

"It's not," Ji Chen said cheerfully. "Best case scenario, I find the signal's endpoint and we get a name. Worst case scenario, they catch me snooping and panic. Might even set the damn thing off."

Damien's eyes narrowed. "Stick to low-level surveillance. Passive monitoring. Don't give them a reason to notice you."

Ji Chen nodded. "Got it. Low and slow."

"I like low and slow," Fatty added, raising a duck bun slowly to his mouth to emphasize his point. "Makes for the best broth."

"You're not helping," Jiang said dryly.

Elly stretched like a cat, still upside-down on the couch. "So what do we do? Interrogate someone? Fox Unit Zero can charm her way into a security officer's brain!"

"No charming," Jiang Xiao Yu said instantly.

Fatty perked up. "Wait! What if we go undercover as mana technicians? You know—lab coats, hard hats, clipboards. We just show up and start asking around."

"That could actually work," Ji Chen muttered, blinking. "Most convergence site workers don't know the full picture. You could pick up weird rumors."

"Ooooh! Can I be the lead inspector?" Elly asked, already pulling a random pair of goggles from seemingly nowhere.

"No," Jiang Xiao Yu said.

"Too late!" Elly shouted. "I'm already roleplaying!"

Fatty struck a dramatic pose, puffing his chest. "I'll be the assistant with the tragic backstory and excellent hair."

Damien pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he said flatly. "You two can talk to the on-site team near Sector 3. Ji Chen will monitor from here. Xiao Yu and I will each check one convergence node discreetly. No combat, no magic flares, no dying."

"Understood!" Elly saluted, her goggles slipping dramatically over her eyes. "Elly the Infiltration Fox Unit Zero is on the case!"

Fatty slapped a fake badge on his chest that said 'Assistant Duck Inspector.' "This is the proudest moment of my life."

Ji Chen sighed. "I'll just… stay here and try not to set off an underground mana bomb."

Damien nodded and stood, grabbing his coat from the wall. "We reconvene at midnight. If anyone's missing, we go full lockdown."

"Wait." Fatty paused, looking hesitant. "Midnight as in… the scary hour? The one where all the ghost cultivators and forgotten laundromancers wake up?"

"…What?" Damien turned slowly.

"Nothing!" Fatty said quickly. "Nothing at all!"

"I'm not scared." Elly added, visibly shaking. "Just... sensitive to ghost frequencies."

Damien raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Xiao Yu rolled her eyes and sighed, standing as well. "Let's move. And remember, subtle. We're shadows in the system."

Fatty and Elly immediately ran into the doorframe trying to exit at the same time.

"…We're doomed," Ji Chen muttered under his breath as he pulled on his headphones and got back to work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Damien crouched low beneath a humming streetlamp, its mana flickering inconsistently—the kind of subtle malfunction that usually went unnoticed by civilians, but not by him.

He narrowed his eyes at the ground.

Blood. Almost invisible. But there.

And not fresh.

The convergence point here, tucked behind an abandoned utilities warehouse in Sector 4A, wasn't technically off-limits. But it wasn't the kind of place people lingered around either. The faint stench of ozone and iron hung in the air like a memory.

His fingers touched the damp concrete. The mana here was wrong. Bent. Shredded. Someone had fought here. Hard.

"Ji Chen," he said quietly into his earpiece.

"Hm?"

"Pull up CCTV footage for this location. Warehouse 4A subgrid station."

There was a pause. Some typing.

"…Negative. Last recorded footage was from eight days ago. The feed's dead."

"Sabotaged?"

"Hard to tell. Could've been corrupted or wiped. But the logs were overwritten."

Damien clicked his tongue. He looked around the alley, eyes scanning the shadows, before kneeling.

Time, he thought.

And water.

He unrolled his sleeves and let mana flow through his hands.

On his right, a soft blue glow bloomed… Water. Cool, adaptable. Receptive.

On his left, a thin silver shimmer… Time. Unstable, precise. Dangerous.

"Let's try this."

He pressed both hands to the pavement and infused the mana into the ground.

The water runes glowed brighter, stretching thin tendrils along the cracks and gravel. The moisture in the air thickened. Pooled. Formed small droplets. The ground shimmered slightly, like a puddle trying to remember a reflection.

Then he pulled.

Time magic spun gently in reverse, tickling at the surface of reality, trying to roll it backward.

For a brief moment, a shimmer flickered over the pavement.

But then it collapsed.

The water turned stagnant. The image scattered. The magic sputtered out like a dying candle.

Damien exhaled through his nose.

"No good," he muttered. "Something's missing…"

He looked around again, thinking.

Water remembers. Time reveals. But… to take shape?

"Fire," he said aloud.

The third element. The spark.

He stretched both hands and released a burst of controlled flame, letting it swirl into the damp air. Instantly, a cloud of steam hissed into existence, billowing across the alley. The steam hovered, swirling unnaturally, caught between water and air, heavy with mana.

Damien extended both hands and poured time energy into it.

Gently at first. Then faster.

The steam began to move.

It twisted.

It churned.

And then like a projector of mist and memory, the steam began to take form.

Vague silhouettes. Smudges of motion. Ghosts made of vapor and time.

He spun the clock backward, days vanishing in seconds. The mana groaned under the strain, resisting the unnatural rewind, but he pushed through. Faster. More.

And then…

Seven days ago.

The steam stopped moving.

A shape appeared.

A figure, crouched. Powerful. Moving silently through the shadows like a trained predator.

Another figure entered, thinner, smaller, maybe a technician? Caught off guard. The smaller figure raised a hand, maybe to question, maybe to run.

The larger shape didn't hesitate.

One blow. The mist shattered where the smaller figure stood.

Dead.

Damien held the image steady, sweat beading on his brow. Holding time still in a zone this large, even with elemental synergy, was hell on his concentration.

But he narrowed the focus.

More detail.

He zoomed in on the attacker. The figure was tall, broad-shouldered, with short-cropped hair.

No face. The mist wouldn't show it.

But on the shoulder, just for a second… Damien saw a glint.

A star.

Not a symbol. A rank.

His breath caught.

"A general," he whispered.

The image scattered. Steam burst outward as the spell shattered entirely, leaving the alley drenched in condensation and silence.

Damien stood slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow.

A general had killed someone here.

One of the six convergence points they'd flagged.

His eyes sharpened.

And now… they had proof. Or at least, the hint of one.

He pulled out his communicator.

"Group message," he muttered. "I have a lead. Meet at the safehouse in twenty minutes. Urgent."

His fingers twitched slightly as the mana around him settled.

If the conspirators had people that high up… then this wasn't just sabotage, it was treason.

And Generals do not commit treason for peanuts.

No… Generals commit treason…

For the throne.