The smell of molten metal and burnt oil hung thick in the air of Aemoria. Smoke curled from massive chimneys, drifting over the crowded streets where people hustled between factories and warehouses. Sparks danced in the air from open forges, painting the soot-stained brick walls in shades of orange and gold.
Korin Draveth ducked beneath a hanging chain, leather gloves blackened with grease. His long fingers were nimble and quick, perfect for repairing Aether tech on the fly. In one hand, he held a humming Aether conduit, its crystal core pulsating with a soft white glow. With the other, he twisted a metallic joint until it clicked into place. Sparks flew, reflecting in his sharp green eyes.
Another tremor rattled the city, smaller than what Aria had felt in Valensreach, but enough to send a line of molten metal splashing onto the floor. Korin hissed, ducking instinctively. A shard of glowing crystal pinged off the wall, embedding itself in the bricks.
"Damn it," he muttered, brushing the soot from his hands. "Not today. Not now."
A slender, wiry figure emerged from the shadows of the factory—a boy no older than ten, his dark hair sticking to his sweat-drenched forehead.
"Master Korin! Did you see it? The smoke towers—they're shaking!"
Korin exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I saw it. Calm down, Lito. It's probably just a tremor. Nothing more."
Lito's wide eyes reflected the pulse of the conduit Korin held. "Nothing more? The whole street cracked! Merchants said—"
Korin cut him off, his voice low. "Listen, kid. Don't repeat rumors. People like that? They get… excited. And excited people make mistakes." He crouched, tightening a loose connector in the Aether conduit. "Now, go fetch the other components from the supply crate."
Lito nodded, hurrying off. Korin returned his attention to the humming crystal. He was good—better than most in Elystron—but even he could feel something wrong in the air. The Aether in the city pulsed strangely, a faint vibration beneath the machinery and metal. It wasn't the usual hum of the factories or the Sky Aether flowing in the turbines. No, this was different: deeper. Raw. Dangerous.
He frowned. His father used to warn him about these readings. "Aemoria isn't built to contain power like this," the old man had said. "If it awakens, it will break everything. And everything will break you."
Korin shook his head, trying to dispel the memory. He was no child anymore. Elystron's Tri-Council demanded results, and he was going to deliver, no matter the cost.
Across the city, in the Tri-Council's observatory, three figures studied holographic maps that floated above crystalline pedestals.
"Seismic readings are spiking in Vastoria and Aemoria simultaneously," said Councilor Veylan, tapping a glowing rune. "It cannot be natural. Look here—the tremors are concentrated along ancient Titan ley lines."
Councilor Mireth leaned closer, her expression sharp. "Ley lines, you say? Are you implying the legends—the Titans—are… stirring?"
Veylan's lips twitched in a faint smile. "Legends are not born without truth. We must prepare. Elystron's Aether-tech could… contain it. Harness it. If we act swiftly, we can turn a disaster into an opportunity."
Councilor Rashen's fingers drummed on the pedestal. "And if we fail?"
Veylan's eyes were cold. "Then Vastoria burns. But Elystron will survive, stronger than ever."
Korin didn't know it yet, but he was already part of this plan. His skills, his inventions, his reckless intuition—they would all be tested in ways he could not yet imagine.
Back in the streets of Aemoria, Korin finished repairing the conduit. He held it up to the light, watching the crystal pulse steadily. The tremor had stopped, leaving only the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. But he didn't feel relief. Something beneath the factories, beneath the city, something immense, was awake.
He stuffed the conduit into his bag and moved toward the exit of the workshop. Outside, smoke and sparks mingled with dust kicked up from cracked streets. People muttered nervously, glancing upward at the distant chimneys and smoke towers.
Then he heard the unmistakable hum.
It was low and resonant, like the vibration of a beast breathing deep underground. It made the metal of nearby scaffolding quiver. Korin froze. This was no ordinary tremor. This was… alive.
A shadow flickered across the sky—a figure moving between rooftops with unnatural grace. Its robes were black, its face hidden beneath a hood. A chill radiated from it, curling around Korin's skin. Shadow Aether.
Instinctively, Korin ducked into an alley, pressing himself against the wall. The figure paused, sensing something—or someone. It raised a hand, and tendrils of dark, writhing energy licked the edges of the rooftops. Then it vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only a faint residue of corruption in the air.
Korin exhaled shakily. He knew who—or what—that had been. The Shadow Order. Rumors said they sought the return of the Titans, and that Elystron's obsession with Aether-tech made it the perfect target.
And now, with Kaldur stirring in Vastoria, Korin understood: the game had begun.
By evening, the tremors had slowed but not ceased. Korin returned to his cramped apartment above a busy workshop district. He set down his bag and pulled out a tangle of blueprints, Aether conduits, and half-finished gadgets.
He studied them, trying to focus, but the image of the shadowy figure haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something massive was coming, something that would change everything.
His eyes flicked to a small crystal prism on his desk—a refined Aetherium shard that glowed faintly with the pulse of the city. Korin reached out, letting his fingers hover just above it. The shard vibrated in response, and for a moment, he felt a connection—not to the city, not to the tech—but to something older. Something beneath the ground.
A whisper echoed in his mind, faint but clear:
"The Earth stirs. Prepare, or be crushed beneath its weight."
Korin jerked back, staring at the shard. He had never felt anything like this. Raw Aether, yes—but this… this was a heartbeat. A living presence.
And far across Vastoria, in the sky above Valensreach, Aria Valen clenched Zephyr's mane, sensing the same pulse that had reached Korin. Two strangers in different cities, connected by something colossal. Something ancient.
The Titans were awakening.
And the world would never be the same.