Neon light flickered against wet concrete.
The undercity of Vexon never slept—its veins glowed with half-broken signs, humming cables, and the restless heartbeat of the forgotten. Rain slid down metal walls, carrying the metallic smell of burning wire and distant thunder.
Riven Dax sprinted through the labyrinth of alleys, boots slicing through puddles that glowed a faint, toxic yellow. Behind him came the thunder of armored boots.
"Stop him! He stole the cells!"
Riven grinned under the neon flicker."You'll have to catch me first!"
He ducked beneath a steaming pipe, leapt over a fallen sign, then kicked off a wall to grab a hanging cable. The cable tore free with a burst of light—electricity erupting in wild arcs that danced between his fingers like living fire.
For a heartbeat, the world turned gold.
The guards stumbled, blind. When their vision cleared, he was already gone—leaving behind nothing but crackling static and the echo of a laugh that sounded like mischief itself.
He landed on a rooftop, breath sharp, the stolen power cells clinking in his satchel. His hair sparked at the ends, glowing threads woven by the storm itself.
"Still got it," he muttered. "If they think they control energy, they should learn how to run first."
Above him, clouds churned—heavy, metallic, waiting.
Then lightning flickered.
Not wild.Not random.Patterned. Measured. Rhythmic.
Riven froze. "That's… new."
He stepped to the ledge, scanning the sprawl of Vexon—wires, lights, and rain forming the pulsing veins of a dying giant. One by one, every streetlamp and holo-sign began to flash.
Gold. White.Gold. White.
A message. Not in code, but in feeling.
Then everything paused.
The signs froze mid-glow. The cables held their hum. Even the rain seemed to slow.
Static thickened around him—and a voice, ancient yet young, echoed through the silence:
"Come to the Academy."
Riven's pulse kicked."Who's there?"
No reply. Only the vibration running through his bones, tugging at something he thought he'd lost long ago.
Electricity curled around his wrist—forming symbols of gold and white that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The resonance.
Not power.Connection.
His grin widened, playful and dangerous.
"Well… guess I'm invited. And I do love a little rebellion."
He pulled his hood over his glowing eyes and turned east. Through the smog, a thin thread of silver light shimmered—stretching toward a place he'd never seen, yet somehow always known.
But then—
A faint, out-of-place flicker rippled across the clouds.
Not gold.Not white.Violet.
Riven stopped mid-step.
"…that wasn't mine."
The violet pulse hummed briefly, echoing like memory—soft, distant, awakening.
Electricity around him shivered, shifting from gold to a strange gold-violet blend for a split second before fading.
"What was that?" he whispered.
The storm flashed again—forming a brief crescent-like pattern before dissolving.
He didn't understand it.Not yet.
But something told him the Academy wasn't just calling students…
It was calling colors.
All of them.
The rebellion was bigger than he thought.
Riven smirked, rain sliding down his jaw as static wrapped around him like a cloak.
"Looks like this night just got interesting."
Then he leapt into the storm.
As he vanished into the electric darkness, a faint shadow of violet rippled across the rooftops—unseen, quiet, awakening.