The Extra's Rise

The warp gate deposited me onto a rooftop three kilometers from the Imperial Palace, and the first thing that hit me was the smell—acrid smoke mixed with the metallic tang of spilled blood and the ozone scent of massive magical discharge. The second thing was the scope of absolute devastation sprawling across Avalon City like a festering wound.

From my elevated position, I could see the Order of Fallen Flame's assault wasn't just targeting government buildings. Explosions bloomed like deadly flowers throughout the urban landscape, their orange and crimson light painting the afternoon sky in shades of apocalypse. Military hover-vehicles streaked between skyscrapers in aerial dogfights that left contrails of various colored magical energy, while emergency sirens wailed from every direction with the desperate urgency of a civilization under siege.

But it was the massive spatial distortion hanging like a wound in reality above the city center that made my blood run cold with recognition and dread.

The Domain battle was invisible to most observers, existing in a pocket dimension that overlay normal space without directly affecting it. But for someone with my enhanced magical senses, the presence of two Low Radiant-rankers locked in mortal combat created pressure waves that rippled through multiple planes of existence simultaneously.

Charlotte Alaric, the Empire's Archmage, was fighting her own sister in a Domain where the laws of physics bent to accommodate powers that could reshape continents. I couldn't see the battle directly, but the magical resonance told me everything I needed to know about the scope of destruction occurring in that isolated pocket of reality.

Evelyn Alaric—Rose's mother, Pope of the Order of Fallen Flame—had challenged her sister to Domain combat, ensuring that their confrontation wouldn't accidentally level half the capital city. It was a small mercy that spoke to tactical awareness rather than humanitarian concern, but it meant that the Order forces operating throughout Avalon weren't being disrupted by collateral damage from a Radiant-rank duel.

The spatial distortion pulsed with each exchange of power, creating pressure waves that made the air itself vibrate with barely contained energy. My enhanced awareness could feel the Domain's boundaries straining under the force of their conflict, while reality flickered at the edges where the pocket dimension intersected with normal space.

My communication device buzzed with an emergency signal, and Elias's voice cut through the ambient chaos with professional efficiency that somehow made the crisis feel marginally more manageable.

"Sir, the family evacuation convoy is currently moving through Sector Seven toward the Northern Continent Embassy," he reported, his words clipped with the kind of controlled urgency that suggested he was coordinating multiple emergency operations simultaneously. "Order forces are conducting intercept operations along the primary evacuation routes. Estimated arrival at your position in twelve minutes if current speed maintained."

Twelve minutes. I could see from my vantage point that Sector Seven was currently hosting its own localized war as Imperial forces attempted to maintain evacuation corridors while Order operatives targeted civilian convoys with systematic precision. Explosions sent pillars of smoke into the afternoon sky, while the distinctive whine of military-grade magical weapons provided a constant underlying soundtrack to the urban battle.

My enhanced spatial awareness, boosted by my recently reactivated Gifts, painted a three-dimensional map of threats and opportunities across the cityscape below. Order forces were moving in coordinated groups, their black combat gear making them difficult to spot among the rubble and smoke, but their magical signatures blazed like beacons to anyone with the sensory capabilities to detect them.

I activated Wings of Eclipse and launched myself from the rooftop, dark feathers spread wide as I glided between buildings while using Featherstep to adjust my trajectory around incoming magical projectiles. The city rushed past below me in a blur of damaged architecture and fleeing civilians, emergency vehicles weaving between abandoned cars as automated evacuation announcements echoed from public address systems throughout the urban landscape.

"All citizens proceed immediately to designated shelter points," the mechanical voice repeated with tireless efficiency. "Military forces are responding to the current emergency. Remain calm and follow evacuation protocols."

The irony of automated systems maintaining their programming while the world burned around them would have been amusing under different circumstances. Instead, it served as a reminder of how quickly civilization's facade could crumble when faced with forces that operated outside the comfortable boundaries of law and order.

Above me, the Domain battle's pressure waves created visible distortions in the atmosphere, like heat waves rising from summer pavement. Each pulse reminded me that while Charlotte and Evelyn fought in isolation, their confrontation would determine the fate of everyone below. If Charlotte fell, the Order would have eliminated the Empire's most powerful defender. If Evelyn was defeated, the assault on Avalon would lose its most dangerous coordinator.

I spotted the convoy before they spotted me—a cluster of armored vehicles moving through streets that had been cleared by advance security teams, their route protected by Imperial Knights whose magical barriers deflected the worst of the Order's harassment attacks. The vehicles themselves were state-of-the-art: adaptive armor that could withstand military-grade magical assault, communication systems that maintained contact even under heavy interference, and emergency medical facilities that could handle anything short of fatal injuries.

But even with their advanced defensive capabilities, I could see that the convoy was under increasing pressure. Order operatives were using the urban environment to their advantage, launching attacks from concealed positions before melting back into the chaos of the burning city. Each assault forced the convoy to slow down, making them increasingly vulnerable to more concentrated attacks.

A group of robed figures emerged from a damaged shopping complex ahead of the convoy's route, their magical signatures identifying them as Bishops. They began weaving spells that would turn the street itself into a trap, corrupting the asphalt and concrete with miasma that would poison anyone who came into contact with it.

I dove from my gliding trajectory, switching to direct combat as my sword materialized in my right hand. The Ancient-grade artifacts responded to my will with perfect synchronization, while both Gifts flared to maximum intensity as I prepared to clear the path for my family's escape.

The first Bishop died before he realized I was there, my blade cutting through his defensive wards like they were constructed from wishful thinking rather than properly anchored magical energy. The second managed to raise a barrier of corrupted earth that slowed my attack long enough for him to scream a warning to his companions.

The remaining three Bishops spread out with tactical precision that spoke to proper military training rather than mere magical education. They moved to flank me while maintaining coordinated spell-casting that would have overwhelmed most opponents.

Unfortunately for them, I was no longer operating under normal limitations.

I teleported behind their formation while simultaneously manifesting astral wings that blocked their line of sight, using the momentary confusion to eliminate two more Cardinals with surgical precision.

The final Bishop attempted to flee, but Wings of Eclipse allowed me to pursue him through the air while raining down attacks that demolished his defensive positions. He fell among the rubble of what had once been a luxury retail establishment, his death ensuring that the convoy's path remained clear.

The lead vehicle's communication system crackled to life as I landed nearby, and Rose's voice cut through the static with obvious relief. "Arthur! Thank god you're alive. We saw the palace on the news feeds—the entire structure looked like it was collapsing."

"I'm fine," I replied, though the sight of my family crowded into the armored transport made me acutely aware of how close I had come to losing everything that mattered to me. "What's the current plan?"

"Northern Continent Embassy," Cecilia answered with royal authority that cut through the ambient chaos. "Ambassador Helena confirmed they have defensive capabilities that can withstand sustained assault, and the building's magical shields are independently powered."

Through the vehicle's reinforced windows, I could see Stella pressed against the glass with wide eyes that reflected both fear and excitement. Aria sat beside our parents, her face pale but determined, while Rachel and Seraphina flanked Reika in protective formations that spoke to their combat training.

But it was Elara's expression that caught my attention and sent a chill down my spine. Her violet eyes held the kind of resolved determination that I had learned to associate with dangerous self-sacrifice.

"The embassy's medical facilities," she said quietly, "they'll need every healer available once the injured start arriving. I should stay and help coordinate triage operations."

"Absolutely not," I replied with finality that made several people in the convoy look up sharply. "You're staying with the group until this crisis is resolved."