Chapter 13

Anchor.

Core.

I need to reestablish the connections.

The fortress was unmoored, adrift in the shifting tides of magic. The enchantments I had so painstakingly built weren't just flickering—they were untethered, struggling to draw from a source that no longer existed. That meant I couldn't anchor the fortress to this world. Not yet.

It needed power. A new source. Something to replace the lost flow of ambient energy.

And that left me with one deeply unsettling option.

I exhaled, running a hand down my face. The Nexus—the swirling, crystalline core at the heart of my fortress—was supposed to be a stabilizing force, a controlled aperture into the unknown. Instead, it had become something else. A gateway. And worse, an open one.

I turned back to the mithril slab, its sigils pulsing like a dying heartbeat. The core enchantments were still there, still trying to do their job, but they had nothing to work with. I needed to feed them. Reignite the cycle.

But how?

I pressed my palm against the mithril again, pushing my magic into it. The metal remained cold, indifferent, as if rejecting my will outright. The sigils flared for a brief second—then sputtered out.

"Oh, that's comforting."

There had to be a way. I wasn't about to let years of work collapse just because of one tiny, world-altering miscalculation.

I paced the room, mind racing. If the fortress could no longer pull from the environment, then it needed something else to stabilize it. Some kind of direct conduit—

My steps slowed.

Me.

I stopped and stared at the Nexus, its swirling hues casting eerie shadows along the walls. A conduit. A power source.

What if I became the anchor? What if I could use the Core to stabilize the Nexus, to close it? I could kill two birds with a fortress-sized stone, as they say.

The thought sent a prickle of unease down my spine. Tapping into raw magic was one thing. Binding myself to the very foundation of this place? That was something else entirely. It wasn't just a matter of throwing energy at the problem—I'd have to weave myself into the structure, make my own magic part of its core functions.

Dangerous. Reckless. A masterclass in bad decisions. Absolutely perfect.

But what choice did I have?

The fortress was my sanctuary, my stronghold against a reality I no longer understood. I wasn't about to let it crumble.

I rolled my shoulders, exhaled slowly. I stood between the Nexus and the core, spreading my arms, palms open—left toward the Nexus, right toward the core. They were apart, and I was in between. I stood there like a man bracing for judgment, caught between forces far greater than myself. Not a pleasant image, I know. I couldn't touch both at the same time, not physically. But maybe that wasn't necessary.

"Alright. Let's see if this kills me. Hopefully, in a dramatic yet educational way."

I closed my eyes. Focused.

The air crackled with energy, thick and heavy, pressing against my skin. The mark burned cold, a glacial resonance threading through my veins as it linked to the Nexus. The core flared hot—jagged, pulsing light spilling across the chamber like a living wound, erratic and hungry.

The world lurched.

Raw, untamed magic surged through me, a tidal wave of energy so vast it nearly tore me apart. Again. This wasn't spellcraft; it was something deeper, something primal—like sinking into the very weave of reality itself. The Nexus and Core both reached out, grasping, demanding.

I grit my teeth. Pain—searing, all-encompassing, as if I were being unraveled one nerve at a time. Thought shattered, stripped down to raw sensation. My heartbeat roared in my ears, a chaotic drumbeat against the force trying to unmake me. A single, undeniable truth pressed down upon me: I was dying. Or worse—being rewritten. Someone was screaming, hoarse and ragged. It took me a second to recognize the voice as my own.

Time lost meaning. Seconds stretched, twisted, collapsed in on themselves.

Then, just as suddenly, everything snapped into focus.

I was inside the fortress. Not physically, but in a way that defied logic. I could feel it—the stone, the wards, the crumbling enchantments. The entire structure was laid bare before me, every failing connection, every fractured rune.

And at the center of it all… me.

I wasn't just fixing the fortress. I was the fortress.

A cold wave of realization hit me. This was deeper than I had intended, more binding than I had anticipated. If I wasn't careful, I wouldn't just be powering the fortress—I'd become part of it.

No. Focus. Control.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my will into the core systems. The magic bucked and writhed, resisting, but I held firm. This was my fortress. My will. My reality.

I anchored myself. Not fully, not permanently. Just enough.

The lights flickered—then steadied. No longer gasping for power but drawing from a direct, stable flow.

The sigils pulsed, their glow strengthening.

The fortress exhaled, the deep hum of stabilizing magic returning to its walls. I could feel it now—the threads of connection tightening, reforming. The slow, steady return of control.

But the Nexus was still open. It still yawned wide, its hunger unchecked.

Gritting my teeth, I reached out—not with my hands, but with raw intent. I willed the gateway shut, like forcing a massive door closed against a hurricane. It fought me, clawed at me, trying to stay ajar. A primal force, ancient and vast, resisting me with all its might.

I poured more of my will into it, reinforcing the motion. If I had to, I'd slam the damn thing shut and barricade it like an overeager tavern keeper locking up after last call.

The Nexus groaned. The energies howled, spiraling inward, the edges collapsing, folding, twisting—until, finally, it shut.

I staggered back, breathless, shaking. The connection was severed. The fortress was stabilizing. The Nexus was contained. And I was still standing.

Relief crashed over me like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It worked. The connection held. The fortress wasn't slipping further into oblivion. The sheer weight of what could have happened—what almost did happen—pressed down on me, but I pushed it aside. No time for that. Not yet.

I could feel it now—the strengthened connection, the restored circulation of energy. It was drawing from the unending flow once more, stabilizing. And I was its link. Its provider.

I frowned.

"Am I... breastfeeding my fortress?"

The fortress wasn't fully repaired, not yet. But it was stabilizing. And I now had a direct connection to it, a tether that I could use. I just had to make sure it didn't consume me in the process.

One problem solved. A thousand more to go.

I ran a hand through my hair, already exhausted.

Gather your strength. One day at a time. See it through.