Chapter 73: Paradox (2)

Instead of the ominous, eerie glow of the void or the pure, mystical radiance of arcane, indigo waves surged out from Orion's form.

To most, the difference would be imperceptible- just another shade of blue, indistinguishable from natural magic. But under the light of dawn and dusk, peering out at the stars, one could see it lingering on the horizon.

As if to mark the unnatural fusion, threads of the Void's eerie purple glow and Arcane's mystic light blue pulsed inside it like veins of unstable energy.

Silco and his henchman slammed abruptly into the floor, grunting in pain from the impact.

The elevator lurched to a halt. Red emergency lights flickered to life and bled through the cracks of the door, illuminating the deep gashes torn into the walls where Orion's energy had lashed out.

A low, mechanical whine filled the air. Sparks sprayed from the overhead panels and the once sturdy elevator felt frail, like a moment away from collapse.

Looking up, Silco's good eye narrowed in rare uncertainty. A storm of energy that he had never seen before, powers he had never tampered with- something he doesn't control or can manipulate yet and could take his life in an instant.

The henchman stirred, groaning as he started to push himself up. Silco immediately motioned for silence, shaking his head and waving his hand in a sharp gesture. The drawback of masks- no facial expressions or movements for signals.

"I know."

Orion spoke finally, curt and short.

An incredible feat was unknowingly achieved- but it required immense willpower and resilience to control it. Arcs still danced out from him, crisping the air.

To any mage, this display would've triggered a flood of questions. Origins, limits, who he was and where he was from, and how he managed to control it.

But to Orion, at this moment, there was only the storm.

Carefully, Silco straightened his uniform, eyeing up the wreckage. From an outside perspective, it could perhaps be dismissed as an electrical malfunction.

A bizarre accident, but still in the realm of plausibility for those who lacked knowledge.

Their uniforms still concealed their identities but were burned and crisped in multiple places.

"Can you control it?" Silco asked, his tone cautious.

Orion doesn't answer. Instead, the arcs slowly fade until they become nothing but soft crackling under his uniform.

"Barely. I need time."

Silco nodded, his gaze shifting toward the door as the gears groaned and rattled- someone was forcing it open.

"Lean on him," Silco ordered, motioning toward his henchmen. Bold. He had to maintain control, even with death standing in the elevator beside him.

The henchman hesitated. His body language betrayed his nerves- stiff shoulders, shifting weight, a flicker of hesitation. Silco noticed, his good eye narrowing again.

"Do it," he commanded, his voice becoming colder and more ominous.

Orion, still battling with the forces within, raised his arm expectantly.

The henchman swallowed but obeyed, stepping forward and allowing Orion's arm to drape over his shoulder like someone heavily wounded.

Orion let himself lean into it. He didn't want to admit it, but the support was exactly what he needed while he focused.

Otherwise, he would be forced to release it in a wave of destructive energy.

((3rd one later, taking a mini break and continuing))