Chapter 13: Ether Sink

  Raven crouched on a rooftop, the jagged edge of a broken air vent providing partial cover as he surveyed the hospital plaza below.

  His breath was steady, but his mind was racing. Even with the goblin leader dead, the monsters were still swarming the area in numbers far too large to deal with alone. From his vantage point, he counted nearly fifty goblins scuttling between overturned cars and barricades, some looting bodies while others stood at watch, their beady eyes scanning the streets. A dozen of the larger ones—the ones with makeshift armour fashioned from scraps of metal and hardened hide—moved amongst them, barking orders and keeping their underlings in check.

  Too many.

  His grip tightened on his knife as he debated his options. Without his bow, ranged combat was out. The idea of lobbing bricks or debris from the roof was laughable, and running in blind was just suicide. Even if he did somehow manage to take down a dozen or so, the rest would just keep coming.

  Uri stood beside him, watching in silence. When he finally sighed and turned to her, she arched a brow as if she had been expecting his frustration.

  "This is a problem," Raven muttered. "If I try to fight my way through this, I'm dead before I hit the steps."

  Uri’s expression remained unreadable. "Then don’t fight your way through it."

  Raven ignored the jab. His mind was already forming a plan. The Ether sink. If the hospital was sitting on a pool of ether, it explained why so many goblins were drawn here. It also explained why the creatures kept coming, even after his rampage earlier. If he could get inside and stop whatever was fuelling the spawn rate, then the fight outside would become a hell of a lot more manageable.

  He turned back to Uri. "I’ll sneak around, phase into the hospital, and try to find the heart of the sink. If I can stop the goblins from spawning, I’ll meet up with whoever’s still alive inside and help coordinate the defence."

  Uri studied him for a long moment, then crossed her arms. "Not a terrible plan," she admitted. "But what if it’s not that simple? What if you can’t just 'turn it off'?"

  Raven shrugged. "Then I'll improvise."

  She sighed. "And what if you get killed before you even find the sink?"

  Raven smirked, despite the tension knotting in his gut. "Then you’ll have wasted a lot of time following me around."

  Uri rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Good enough.

  With the plan set, Raven slipped off the roof and into the shadows, preparing to begin his infiltration.

  Raven slunk down the alley behind the shop, keeping his footsteps light as he moved through the narrow passage. The air was thick with the scent of rot and damp concrete, garbage strewn about from long-abandoned bins. He ignored it, pressing on, his focus solely on reaching the hospital. The end of the alley brought him to an area near the outer walls of the building—a reinforced structure with no clear openings. The emergency exits only opened from the inside and the few windows he saw were boarded up.

  Alright, time to see if I can do this on purpose.

  Concentrating, he recalled the way he had instinctively used his phase ability in the heat of combat. It had been reflexive, natural, but now, standing before a solid wall with no immediate danger pressing down on him, the execution felt different. Hesitation crept into his mind. Using it in the middle of a fight was easy. But doing it like this…?

  Deciding to add some adrenaline to the mix, he took a step back and ran at the wall, willing himself to pass through it.

  THUD.

  Pain shot through his skull as he landed flat on his back, the impact sending a fresh wave of aches through his body. He groaned, rubbing the new bump forming on his head.

  "Fucking hell," he growled, glaring at the unyielding wall.

  From above, he swore he heard Uri chuckle.

  Shaking himself, he tried again, this time focusing on the ether the way Uri had taught him. He let his awareness settle on the faint, tingling sensation beneath his skin—the same feeling he had sensed after killing monsters. It was like a current, constantly shifting and flowing within him.

  Alright. He approached the wall again, closing his eyes and willing himself to pass through.

  This time, there was no resistance.

  The sensation was strange—like stepping into cold water, but without the wetness or weight dragging at him. One moment he was outside, the next he was standing in a dimly lit room, the faint glow of flickering candles illuminating a small altar at the front.

  A chapel.

  Before he could fully register his surroundings, the sharp click of a gun being cocked made him freeze.

  “Where the fuck did you come from?”

  Raven turned slowly, raising his hands just enough to show he wasn’t a threat. The source of the voice was a young, reedy-looking officer, barely out of his teens by the look of him. His grip on the pistol was unsteady, his fingers twitching on the trigger.

  "It doesn’t matter," Raven replied flatly. "Who’s in charge here?"

  The officer hesitated, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to shoot or answer. After a moment, he relented. “Sergeant Wilkes. He’s in the main hallway near the entrance.”

  Raven nodded but didn’t move. Something about this guy was off. He was too nervous. His uniform was wrinkled and stained with sweat, his boots scuffed from what looked like frantic movement.

  Raven narrowed his eyes. "And why aren’t you at the entrance with him?"

  The officer stiffened. “I—I was patrolling.”

  "Bullshit." Raven’s voice was sharp. "You’re hiding."

  Stolen story; please report.

  The officer flinched. His mouth opened, then closed again, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I— I was just— I thought—”

  "Save it," Raven snapped, turning toward the chapel doors. He paused just before leaving and glanced over his shoulder. "If you’re not back where you’re supposed to be by the time I find the sergeant, I’ll make sure he knows exactly where to find you."

  The officer swallowed hard, gripping his gun tighter. He didn’t respond.

  Raven stepped through the doors without another word, leaving the man to his shame.

  Raven had no idea how he was supposed to find the heart of the sink. Uri had spoken as if he would instinctively know how to locate it, but standing in the dim hospital hallway, he felt nothing that pointed him in the right direction. His only clue was that if the sink was pooling ether, then it had to be denser than the rest of the area. That meant… maybe he could sense it?

  He paused in the hallway, tuning out the distant sounds of movement and muffled voices. Taking a deep breath, he focused inward, just like he had when building his core. He concentrated on the way ether moved through him, how it trickled into his body. If it was flowing somewhere specific, then all he had to do was follow it.

  Slowly, he became aware of subtle differences in the ambient ether. The concentration behind him felt thinner, like a river flowing outward. But ahead… there was something. A pull. Not strong, but noticeable. He followed it, moving cautiously down the hall, adjusting his path whenever the sensation shifted.

  Eventually, the pull led him to an emergency stairwell. The sterile walls and metal railings gave nothing away, but the ether felt heavier here. He glanced up the stairs, then down. If I were a creepy magic pool of power, would I be up in some well-lit ward? Or buried in the guts of the building? The answer was obvious.

  Raven descended, boots barely making a sound on the cold steps. The air grew colder, the scent of dust and mildew thickening. When he reached the basement floor, he stepped cautiously into a dimly lit corridor, the overhead lights flickering weakly.

  A faint glow caught his eye at the end of the hall.

  His pulse quickened as he moved toward it. As he rounded a corner, he stopped dead.

  Floating in the centre of the room was a massive crystal. Raven's breath caught. The air around it felt heavier, charged with static, and the light shifting inside the crystal pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

  It hovered weightlessly, about the size of his torso, its surface clear yet shifting with internal light. It looked similar to the trait stone he had picked up before, but this was something entirely different. That was easy, he thought, cautiously stepping forward.

  A blur of movement.

  Raven barely had time to react before a dark shape lunged from the side.

  Shit!

  He rolled instinctively, feeling the rush of air as a massive set of claws swiped through the space where he had just been standing. The thing landed heavily, muscles bulging under thick scales. Unlike the smaller lizards he had encountered before, this one moved on all fours, its frame built for raw power.

  Raven barely had time to think before it charged again.

  He leaped sideways, the beast’s claws raking through the tile, carving deep gouges into the floor. Heart pounding, Raven scrambled to his feet, brandishing his knife. His eyes flicked over the creature, noting the sheer thickness of its armoured hide.

  I’m not cutting through that.

  The lizard growled, its reptilian eyes locked onto him, tail flicking aggressively.

  It lunged.

  Raven phased, shifting sideways as its bulk passed through him. As he reappeared, he drove his knife into its flank, only to feel the blade get caught between the steel-like scales.

  Shit. Now unarmed, Raven needed a plan.

  He backed away, his mind racing. He could try to run, but if this thing was guarding the sink, there was no guarantee he’d get another chance to approach it.

  The lizard charged again, just as reckless as before.

  Raven ducked behind a shelf. The lizard ploughed through it, sending splinters flying. Phasing at the last second, Raven barely avoided being crushed as the beast clawed its way out of the wreckage... Raven noticed something—the scales on its underside were thinner. Smaller.

  An idea took root.

  To make it work, he needed his knife back. As the beast turned to charge, Raven charged too. As it closed in, he phased to its back and grabbed for his knife, prying it free. He jumped aside just as the lizard rolled, trying to crush him.

  Raven watched and waited for the lizard to charge again.

  Predictably the beast lunged once more, Raven phased—not sideways, but underneath. He slid beneath the charging beast, his knife poised. The moment he solidified, he slashed upward, feeling the blade bite into the soft flesh of its underbelly.

  The reaction was immediate.

  The lizard screeched and twisted, but its belly was already open. Entrails spilled like wet rope as it staggered forward, collapsing with a final, rattling breath. It let out a screech which faded to a shuddering breath before collapsing to the ground.

  Raven wasted no time.

  He vaulted onto the creature’s back, gripping its thick hide for leverage, and dragged his blade across its throat in a final, clean stroke.

  The lizard convulsed, its massive claws scraping weakly at the ground. It let out one last, gurgling snarl before the strength left its limbs and it collapsed in a final, shuddering heap.

  Panting, Raven wiped his knife against the creature’s hide and turned back to the floating crystal. The resonance in the air was stronger now, like an unseen pulse vibrating through the space.

  As he stepped forward, his grimoire flared to life, summoning itself into his hand.

  It opened on its own.

  On the page before him, bold letters materialized:

  This is an unclaimed Ether sink. Would you like to claim it?

  Raven clenched his jaw as he stared at the words inscribed in his grimoire.

  Would you like to claim it?

  The question lingered in his mind, repeating itself like an echo. He had no idea what claiming an ether sink actually meant. Would it bind him to this place? Would he have to defend it? Did it come with responsibilities—or worse, consequences? His gut churned with uncertainty.

  “Damn it, Uri,” he muttered under his breath. She had hinted at this, and he hadn’t listened. Why couldn’t she ever just give a straightforward explanation. Typical.

  His fingers hovered over the grimoire, hesitant. What if claiming it attracted every monster in the area? What if all the ether inside the crystal released at once, triggering something worse? His mind spun with possible disasters, each worse than the last.

  “What if I can’t undo this?” The thought crawled into his mind like an unwelcome whisper. Everything in this world had a price—his body had been changed by ether, his life had been rewritten by monsters. What if this was another step down a path he didn’t even see yet? He gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time for doubts. He’d figure it out later—if there was a later.

  Raven exhaled sharply, shaking his head. I don’t have a choice. If Uri was right about the mana sink being the reason for the goblins' relentless attacks, then stopping its function was his only shot at slowing them down. He had no way to destroy the crystal, no knowledge of how to dismantle it. But claiming it? That was something within his power—if his grimoire was to be believed.

  Trust her. Trust yourself.

  Raven pressed his palm against the floating crystal.

  The instant he did, a pulse of raw ether surged through him, like a wave crashing against his soul. His breath caught, every nerve flaring as the ether flooded his veins. His body tensed, his grimoire vibrating violently in his other hand. The words on the page shifted and changed, new lines filling the parchment at a dizzying speed.

  Ether Sink Claimed.

  Ether Regulation Established.

  Spawn Suppression: Active.

  Owner: Raven Tueson.

  Raven barely had time to process what he was reading before he felt the change. The heavy, oppressive ether in the room became... subdued. The buzzing hum in the air faded into a steady thrum, controlled and contained.

  It had worked.

  Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding; he flipped through the newly filled pages in his grimoire. There was an entire section detailing the ether sink—its function, its control, and something called sink stabilization. There were options, things he could do with it, but right now, he didn’t have time to study them.

  A sudden weight settled over him. I just took control of something I don’t understand, I hope this doesn't come back to haunt me.

  His mind raced with new possibilities as he scanned the text in his grimoire. This wasn’t just some random artifact—it was a resource, a power that he now controlled. What else could he do with it? Could he expand its influence? Could he use it for something beyond just stopping the goblins? He clenched his fists. No time to figure that out now. The goblins should stop spawning—but would they just leave, or was this going to make them even more aggressive? He didn’t know. No time to figure it out—just act.

  Shoving the grimoire back into place, he turned and sprinted for the exit. He needed to find Sergeant Wilkes.