The Asura in White

The single thread of Starfire was a testament to his will, but it was not enough. Lin Xuan sat in the absolute stillness of the cellar and performed a cold, dispassionate calculation. He analyzed the flow of tainted energy in the slum's air, the agonizingly slow pace of repairing Kaelen's shattered conduits, and the immense power required to restore a vessel that once housed a god.

The conclusion was stark. At this rate, it would take him more than two centuries to reach full power.

Two centuries of hiding in squalor, fighting a dead man's ghosts, while the universe turned without him. The timeframe was illogical, inefficient, and therefore unacceptable. The ambient energy of the world was a poor fuel. He needed a catalyst—a source of pure, condensed Starfire to ignite the forge of his soul and accelerate the work.

He needed resources. And resources were not found in a forgotten cellar.

He rose to his feet, the unfamiliar body aching in protest. For the first time in weeks, he unsealed the cellar door and stepped out into the perpetual twilight of the Ash Quarter. The air was thick with the smell of cheap smoke, unwashed bodies, and despair. Thugs with cruel eyes lingered in doorways, and gaunt figures watched from the shadows. To them, a frail old man should have been a walking invitation to violence.

But Lin Xuan did not hide. He simply walked. He drew upon his soul-craft, gathering his aura and folding it inward until he projected an aura of absolute worthlessness. He appeared as a man not just old, but hollowed out, his life-force so faint he was practically a corpse. His eyes were vacant, his shoulders slumped. He was a husk, beneath the notice of even the most desperate predators. Their eyes slid past him, dismissing him as not even worth the effort to rob. He was a ghost in plain sight.

Kaelen's memories guided him through the labyrinthine alleys to his destination: a dusty, cluttered shop filled with mismatched junk, its sign reading "The Whisper Emporium." This was the facade. The real entrance was the door itself. It was carved from a dark, oily wood that seemed to absorb the light—a "Sorrow-Wood," Kaelen's memory supplied. A test for all who would seek the knowledge within.

A few rough-looking mercenaries loitered nearby, their smirks promising trouble for anyone who failed the test. They watched with predatory interest as the withered old man shuffled towards the door.

Lin Xuan felt it as he approached—a wave of psychic noise, a chorus of whispers designed to prey on the mind. Echoes of failure, whispers of despair, visions of poverty and loss. It was a crude mental attack, and to a soul that had endured the full weight of a betrayed god's grief, it was like a gentle breeze against a mountain.

Without breaking his stride, he placed a pale hand on the door. The whispers screamed in his mind for a moment, then died, overwhelmed by the sheer, silent vastness of his consciousness. He pushed the door open and stepped inside as casually as entering a teahouse.

The silence he left behind was more profound than any shout. The loiterers stared, their smirks gone, replaced by a mixture of confusion and a sudden, prickling fear.

The inside of the Emporium was a chaotic maze of shelves and artifacts, shrouded in a spiritual mist that concealed its true layout. A figure sat behind a counter, completely hidden by dark robes and a veil of shadows.

"Knowledge has a price," a raspy, disembodied voice spoke from the shadows.

Lin Xuan gestured toward a complex, humming sphere on the counter. It was glowing with a violent, unstable light. "Your Vex-Sphere is failing. The energy matrix is misaligned from a resonance cascade. I offer knowledge for knowledge."

The shrouded figure stilled. "Many have claimed to understand the artifacts. All have failed."

"Reverse the polarity of the third and seventh conduits," Lin Xuan said, his voice flat. "Then introduce a sliver of blood-iron to the focusing crystal. It will stabilize the matrix."

There was a long pause. A shadowy hand emerged from the robes and performed the actions with practiced ease. The sphere's violent shuddering ceased, and its light softened into a pure, stable chime.

"The price is paid," the broker's voice held a new note of respect. "What knowledge do you seek?"

"I require a catalyst. A source of pure, condensed Starfire, accessible within this city."

The broker seemed to consider it. "There are many, but most are locked in the vaults of the Great Houses. Impenetrable." The figure paused. "However... there is an opportunity. In three days, a convoy from the imperial mines will pass through the Northern Gate. It carries a shipment of Starlight Jade. It is the purest energy source to move through this city in months."

Lin Xuan nodded. He had his target. As he turned to leave, the broker spoke one last time.

"A word of caution, old man," the voice rasped. "You possess a knowledge that is beyond your station. Be wary of who you bargain with. That shipment belongs to House Caspian."

Lin Xuan froze in the doorway, his back to the broker.

Caspian.

The name was a thunderclap in his mind. A jolt of pure, undiluted hatred—Kaelen's hatred—surged through him, so strong it made his hand clench into a fist. He had sought a target for his resource problem. Now, the ghost in his soul had a target for its vengeance. The two paths had just violently merged.

He stepped out into the darkness of the Ash Quarter, his expression unchanged, but for the first time since his rebirth, there was a flicker of something other than cold logic in his eyes.

The experiment was about to get interesting.