The Extra Who Will Swallow The Plot

The Temple of Light's cultivation wing hummed with concentrated mana. Mariabel sat in meditation chamber four. Cross-legged. Eyes closed. Her Authority flickering at the edges of her consciousness.

The chamber's formation was active. Mana crystals embedded in the walls pulsed rhythmically. Flooding the space with pure divine energy. The influx was aggressive. Overwhelming. Most Expert Low cultivators struggled with this volume.

Mariabel absorbed it effortlessly.

Her Authority made the difference. Flame incarnate didn't just use mana. It commanded it. Shaped it. Transformed it into something else entirely.

The divine energy entered her core. Circulated through her pathways. She didn't just absorb. She refined. Compressed. Converted the neutral mana into flame-aspected power.

Her container was expanding. Expert Low meant her barrel was only partially filled. She needed to reach Expert Mid. Then Expert Peak. Each stage required exponentially more power than the last.

The Temple session accelerated the process. What would take weeks of normal cultivation happened in hours here. But at a cost. Two gold per session. Four hours minimum for meaningful progress.

She'd purchased three sessions. Six gold. Twelve hours total. Spread across three days to avoid mana poisoning.

This was day two. Hour six of twelve.

Her flames danced beneath her skin. Visible through closed eyelids. Orange and red swirling. Testing. Experimenting. Her Authority wanted to manifest. To burn. To transform.

She suppressed it. Barely. This wasn't the place. The Temple didn't appreciate property damage.

The formation powered down. The mana influx stopped. Session complete.

Mariabel opened her eyes. Gasped. The transition from high-density mana to normal air was jarring. Like surfacing from deep water.

Sister Elizabeth entered. Her golden eyes concerned. Professional.

"How do you feel?"

"Powerful. Restless." Mariabel stood. Stretched. Her muscles were stiff from four hours of stillness. "The energy wants out. Wants to burn something."

"That's normal for Authority users. The divine essence recognizes kindred power. It amplifies rather than just sustaining." Elizabeth checked a crystal display. Monitoring vitals. "Your core stability is excellent. No signs of mana poisoning. You can continue tomorrow as planned."

"Good." Mariabel paid for the session. Two gold coins placed on the collection plate. The Temple's tithe. "Same time?"

"Same time. Chamber four will be reserved." Elizabeth paused. "Lady Valtee. A word of caution?"

"What kind of caution?"

"You're drawing attention. Authority users are rare. Valuable. Word spreads in the Temple. People talk." Elizabeth's voice dropped. "Pope Reginald has been asking questions. About the noble woman with flames. The one who cleared three sessions without difficulty."

"Let him ask. I'm a paying customer. Following all regulations."

"It's not about regulations. It's about interest. The Pope collects powerful cultivators. Offers patronage. Support. Resources." Elizabeth's expression was troubled. "But his patronage comes with strings. Obligations. Loss of independence."

"I'm not interested in papal patronage."

"Good. Then be careful. Decline politely if approached. Don't antagonize. The Temple has reach beyond these walls." Elizabeth gestured to the exit. "Your companion. The white-haired one. He left yesterday for some task. Has he returned?"

"Not yet. He's handling personal business."

"I hope he's being careful. The capital is dangerous for those who stand out." Elizabeth opened the door. "Until tomorrow, Lady Valtee."

Mariabel left the cultivation wing. Navigated through the Temple's main halls. The architecture was beautiful. Oppressive. Divine authority made physical through stone and gold.

She emerged into afternoon sunlight. The capital's streets were busy. Crowded. Anonymous despite the attention her appearance drew.

The walk back to the Copper Rest took twenty minutes. Through districts that shifted from religious to commercial to residential. Each one with its own character. Its own dangers.

She found Kael in their room. Surrounded by papers. Notes. Diagrams. His alchemical research spread across every available surface.

"Any word from Raze?" she asked.

"Nothing. He left yesterday morning with that Julius person. Said he'd check in." Kael didn't look up from his calculations. "It's been over twenty-four hours. No communication."

"Should we be worried?"

"Probably. But worry doesn't help." Kael finally met her eyes. "The Phoenix Marrow arrives tomorrow. I need to be ready. Need to have all preparations complete for Aslan's treatment."

"Where is Aslan?"

"Training. The warehouse district. He found an abandoned building. Completely isolated. Perfect for practicing transformation control."

Mariabel moved to the window. Stared out at the capital sprawl. "We've been here three days. Already we're scattered. Raze on some mysterious mission. You buried in research. Aslan practicing alone. Me at the Temple."

"We knew this would happen. The capital offers resources Thornwick couldn't. But it requires us to pursue different paths." Kael returned to his notes. "We'll reconvene when Raze returns. Compare progress. Adjust plans."

"If he returns."

"He will. He's stubborn. Refuses to die despite repeatedly putting himself in situations where death is the likely outcome." Kael's smile was tired. "It's actually impressive. Statistically speaking, he should have died at least four times by now."

Mariabel laughed despite herself. "That's a terrible way to describe our team leader."

"Accurate though."

She left Kael to his research. Descended to the dining area. Ordered food she didn't particularly want. Sat alone at a corner table.

The loneliness surprised her. She'd spent years alone after her family's disgrace. Isolated. Ostracized. The Valtee name a curse rather than blessing.

But the past weeks with the Four Stars had changed something. She'd gotten used to companionship. To belonging. To being part of something larger than herself.

Now that was fractured. Temporarily. But fractured nonetheless.

She ate mechanically. The food was bland. Forgettable. Her mind elsewhere.

---

The abandoned warehouse district smelled like rust and decay. Buildings collapsed. Streets empty. The perfect place to practice something dangerous.

Aslan stood in the center of a massive empty space. Three stories of open air. Debris cleared. Room to move without hitting anything important.

His silver eyes reflected what little light filtered through broken windows. His body was tense. Ready. Afraid.

Thirty percent transformation. That was his current safe limit. Beyond that, consciousness started slipping. Control became uncertain.

He needed to push that limit. Safely. Gradually. Without losing himself completely.

He closed his eyes. Focused inward. Found that pool of silver energy. The Mercurian modification that made him weapon and monster.

Drew on it. Carefully. Like sipping poison. Too much and he'd drown.

Ten percent. His muscles hardened slightly. Strength increased. Still fully conscious. Still in control.

Twenty percent. The silver aura began to manifest. Visible. Tangible. His power doubled. Tripled. His perception sharpened. Everything became clearer. Faster.

Still conscious. Still him.

Thirty percent. The dangerous threshold. His silver aura blazed. His strength was overwhelming. S rank easily. His body was a weapon. Unstoppable. Unbreakable.

But his thoughts were becoming simpler. More focused. Less human.

He held it. Counted seconds. Maintaining thirty percent without slipping higher. Without losing himself.

One minute. Two minutes. Three.

His consciousness remained. Edges fuzzy. But present. Aware.

This was progress. Last week he could barely hold thirty percent for thirty seconds. Now three minutes. Improving.

He released the transformation. Let the silver energy recede. Returned to baseline.

Gasped. The transition was always jarring. Like waking from a dream. Or a nightmare.

His body was drenched in sweat. Shaking. The effort of maintaining partial transformation was immense. Mentally exhausting.

But necessary. Every session pushed his limits slightly further. Built his control. Made him more than just a mindless weapon.

He sat heavily on debris. Pulled out water. Drank deeply.

The warehouse was silent except for his breathing. No one around. No one to see him practice. To judge. To fear.

Just him and his curse. Working to make it something else. Something controllable. Something useful.

Kael's cure would help. The Phoenix Marrow treatment. But even with that, control would be necessary. The Mercurian energy couldn't be eliminated completely. Just stabilized. Regulated.

Which meant training. Constant. Careful. Painful training.

Aslan stood. Prepared for another attempt. This time he'd try thirty-five percent. Push the boundary. Test the edge.

Risk losing control. Risk the mindless state. But necessary risk. Growth required pushing past comfort. Past safety.

He closed his eyes. Drew on the silver energy. More this time. Deeper.

Thirty percent. Thirty-two. Thirty-five.

His consciousness wavered. Reality became distant. Instinct screamed to move. To fight. To kill.

He held on. Barely. Counting seconds through the haze.

Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

Then he felt it slipping. The mindless state approaching. The point of no return.

He released immediately. Let the energy go. Dropped back to zero percent.

Collapsed. Gasping. Shaking. Close. Too close.

But he'd touched thirty-five percent. Held it for thirty seconds. More progress. More control.

The cure couldn't come soon enough. But until then, he'd keep training. Keep pushing. Keep fighting to be human rather than weapon.

Even if it killed him.

---

Kael worked through the night. His notes spread across the table. Diagrams of alchemical processes. Calculations of dosage and timing.

The Phoenix Marrow would arrive tomorrow morning. Fifty gold worth of concentrated essence. The key component for Aslan's treatment.

But the marrow alone wasn't enough. It needed to be combined with stabilizing agents. Processed correctly. Administered at precise intervals.

The treatment would take three days. Continuous monitoring. Constant adjustments. One mistake could make everything worse. Could kill Aslan. Could transform him into something beyond saving.

No pressure.

Kael rubbed his eyes. The lamplight was dim. Flickering. His vision blurred from exhaustion and focus.

He thought about his brother. Five years dead. Killed by a disease Kael couldn't cure. Couldn't even understand at the time.

That failure had driven him to alchemy. To medicine. To understanding how bodies worked. How they failed. How to fix them.

Aslan was his chance at redemption. A victim like his brother. Suffering from something that could be treated. Could be cured.

If Kael was skilled enough. Smart enough. Careful enough.

He returned to his calculations. Double-checking dosages. Verifying timing. Building contingency plans for every possible complication.

The Phoenix Marrow would stabilize the Mercurian energy. Bind it to Aslan's natural mana pathways. Let him access the power without losing consciousness. Without becoming mindless weapon.

Theoretically.

In practice, things could go catastrophically wrong. The marrow could reject. The binding could fail. The energy could overwhelm Aslan's natural cultivation completely.

Kael had developed suppressants. Emergency measures. Ways to shut down the treatment if things went bad.

But those were last resorts. Failures acknowledged in advance.

He needed this to work perfectly. Needed Aslan to survive. To thrive. To become what he was meant to be rather than what he'd been forced into.

The research continued. Hours blending together. Dawn approaching unseen through windowless focus.

Finally, satisfied, Kael organized his notes. Prepared his equipment. Everything ready for tomorrow's delivery.

He allowed himself one moment of doubt. One acknowledgment of the crushing responsibility.

Then suppressed it. Doubt didn't help. Only preparation mattered. Only skill. Only determination.

Aslan would be cured. Or Kael would die trying.

Simple as that.

---

Morning came. The team remained scattered. Pursuing separate goals. Building separate strengths.

Mariabel at the Temple. Growing her Authority. Expanding her power. Drawing unwanted attention.

Aslan in the warehouse. Training. Pushing limits. Fighting his own nature.

Kael in the room. Preparing. Planning. Ready to attempt the impossible.

And Raze. Somewhere. Doing something. Silent. Absent. Worrying despite their confidence.

They'd reconvene eventually. Compare progress. Share discoveries. Return to being the Four Stars.

But for now, they walked separate paths. Growing individually before reuniting as whole.

The capital demanded it. Offered resources but required sacrifice. Required independence. Required each person to face their own demons alone.

They would survive. Probably. Hopefully. Because the alternative was unthinkable.

And unthinkable things had a way of happening in the capital.

Whether they were ready or not.