Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

Everyone stared at Adom.

”Oh,” said Cisco. ”A mage.”

A panting man stumbled through the broken door, clutching the doorframe for support. His face looked like someone had used it to test several varieties of hammers. One eye was swollen completely shut, the other barely a slit, and his nose pointed in at least two different directions.

”Boss!” he wheezed between broken teeth. ”We need to- you have to- that crazy barbaria-”

”WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME?!” Thormund roared from his frozen position, veins bulging impressively against his immobile neck.

”Oh shit- I mean- I’ll get- REINFORCEMENTS!” The man spun around, wobbling. ”FROM THE MAIN BASE! DON’T DIE BOSS! I’LL BE RIGHT-”

There was a solid, meaty thunk, followed by the drawn-out screech of a body sliding down something.

”Third time this month someone’s run into that statue,” Marco noted, adjusting his glasses. ”Perhaps we should move it.”

”RELEASE ME, MAGE!” Thormund’s muscles bulged against invisible restraints. His fluid began pouring out like steam from a kettle, making Adom’s temples throb with the effort of maintaining [Control].

Just as the pressure was becoming unbearable, a thin beam of light shot from the tiny ring on Cisco’s even tinier paw. Thormund’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a felled tree.

”He’ll need a few hours of sleep and some... proper education later,” Cisco said, adjusting his miniature spectacles. He turned to Adom. ”Now then. Mage. You might have mentioned that during our negotiations.”

”You didn’t ask,” Adom replied mildly, massaging his temples. ”Besides, your prices are quite steep enough without adding a mage surcharge.”

A muscle in Marcus’ jaw twitched, but Cisco’s whiskers quivered in what might have been amusement.

”Fair enough,” the tiny broker conceded. He glanced at Thormund’s unconscious form. ”I didn’t expect you to step up and try to save my life - though I assure you, it wasn’t necessary. Still...” He straightened his tiny cravat. ”Let’s consider this particular detail forgotten. No surcharge for being a mage.”

”Mages have a higher risk assessment,” Marco interjected, still tense. ”Most are Empire officials. We need to ensure you’re not a spy.””Are you a spy, Law?” Cisco asked.

”Not at all,” Adom replied.

”There. Not a spy. Relax, Marco. Given his youth, he’s likely just a student from Xerkes. Probably not tied to the Empire. Yet.” Cisco waved his tiny paw dismissively.

Adom didn’t object. There was no point.

”So.” He straightened, ready to leave. ”One month it is, then.”

”I wouldn’t go that way if I were you, Law.” Cisco said while getting off his chair.

”And why not?”

Instead of answering, Cisco glanced at Thormund’s unconscious form. ”This idiot probably had a tail when he came charging in here.” He gestured toward the window with one tiny paw. ”Would you mind taking a look?”

Adom moved to the window, pushing aside the dusty curtain. Black smoke rose in thin spirals from three different rooftops, forming distinct patterns against the afternoon sky.

”A special signal from my agents,” Cisco explained, already sorting papers into his miniature briefcase. ”We have company coming. Several groups, by the look of it.”

”Charming,” Adom said dryly, watching another smoke signal join the others. ”Just what I needed today.”

”Marco, give our esteemed client a cloak.” Cisco began tucking various tiny scrolls into his sleeve.

Marco pulled a dark gray cloak from his briefcase - which seemed far too small to have held it - and handed it to Adom.

”I appreciate the concern,” Adom said, taking the cloak with mild confusion, ”but I have nothing to do with... whatever this is. They don’t even know my face.”

”I’m afraid that’s not quite accurate,” Marco said, adjusting his glasses. ”The situation is rather more complex. The smoke patterns indicate both criminal elements and law enforcement presence. Standard protocol in such situations dictates that all parties exiting these premises will be considered persons of interest.”

”Furthermore,” Marco continued, ”having to explain your presence here would be problematic. As you now have certain... financial obligations to our organization, we’d prefer to avoid any complications that might interfere with those arrangements.”

Already in debt, Adom thought. The ink isn’t even dry on the contract.

Wait, there was no ink. Come to think of it, was there even a contract?

”Unless, of course,” Marco added, raising an eyebrow, ”you have some method of bypassing the police’s stealth magic detectors? Or perhaps a convincing explanation for your presence in this particular establishment?”

Cisco and Marco both looked at him expectantly.

”Right,” Adom said, pulling the cloak around his shoulders. ”Let’s go then, shall we?”

”Marco, if you would?” Cisco adjusted his top hat.

”Yes, sir.” Marco cupped his hands with care, and Cisco stepped into them with the dignity of a king mounting his carriage. With delicate precision, Marco settled him into a padded breast pocket. The tiny broker straightened his miniature coat tails and smoothed his whiskers.

He was cute. Cute and dangerous. Quite a strange combo.

”On your feet, you lot! Scatter-Eight!” Cisco’s sharp command cut through the room. The ’unconscious’ men snapped to attention. ”Heinrich, eastern route! Johan, collect the ledgers and clear all evidence from the back room. Art, you and Wilhelm take the basement path.”

”Lars, help Art with those blood stains,” Johan called out, already moving between hidden compartments. ”Pattern Three cleanup.”

”On it!” Lars pulled an enchanted cloth from his sleeve, the fabric shimmering as it dissolved traces of the earlier fight.

The man by the statue groaned, finally stirring. Marco paused to deliver a sharp kick. ”Up. West route. And do try to avoid our décor this time.”

”Lars, what’s the status on those blood stains?” Johan called out while organizing documents.

”That was ONE time I missed a spot-” Lars muttered, working his enchanted cloth over the floor.

”Three times this month!” several voices corrected in unison, not pausing in their tasks.

”Thormund comes with us,” Cisco ordered. Marco hoisted the massive barbarian with surprising ease. He was stronger than he looked.

The room erupted into coordinated chaos. Bodies moved with practiced efficiency, like actors in a well-rehearsed play. Someone triggered a mechanism, and furniture began sinking into the floor. Hidden panels slid open, carpet rolled itself away, and even the air seemed to clear of any magical residue.

”West side’s clear!”

”Basement route secured!”

”All traces removed, sir!”

Adom found himself being hustled through a passage that had definitely been a solid wall moments ago, watching in fascination as an entire operation disappeared like morning mist.

Behind them, the last traces of their presence vanished under a web of precisely executed protocols and spells. No wonder the Empire had never managed to pin anything on these organizations.

They descended through a series of hidden passages, each turn revealing new tunnels that shouldn’t logically exist beneath the city. Marco led the way, still carrying Thormund’s bulk with surprising ease, while the others moved in practiced formation around them.Their footsteps echoed in perfect rhythm, like a well-rehearsed orchestra of escape artists. The tunnel opened into a circular chamber, its walls covered in faintly glowing runes. At its center, a more complex array of symbols pulsed with a white light.

”Standard exit protocol,” Cisco announced from Marco’s pocket. ”Thirty-second intervals.”

One by one, they stepped onto the array. The runes flickered to life - a complex pattern that seemed to bend reality around its edges. When Adom’s turn came, he hesitated for just a fraction of a second.

He really, really did not like portals.

Then Marco gave him a gentle push, and reality shattered.

The sensation started with his fingertips - each individual cell seeming to wave goodbye to its neighbors as they scattered into the void. His arms unraveled like loose thread, followed by his chest cavity, which was an entirely new and unwelcome experience. He could feel his liver doing something livers probably weren’t meant to do, and his stomach... well, his stomach was having the time of its life, apparently deciding that existing in twelve different locations simultaneously was its new favorite hobby.

At least I skipped lunch, Adom thought, as his consciousness stretched across what felt like several counties, still annoyingly aware of every single part of his disassembled self. His teeth were somewhere to the left. Or maybe the right. Possibly both.

Time and space didn’t exactly work properly when you were traveling at roughly half the speed of light, converted into pure energy and trying very hard not to think about the fact that your spleen was currently leading a rebellion against the laws of physics.

Reality snapped back together with the grace of a drunken juggler, and Adom stumbled forward, his body parts thankfully all reporting for duty in their usual locations.

Well, hopefully at least.

Non-regulation portals had a nasty habit of... rearranging things. Having, for example, a left kidney switch sides after a non protocolar portal travel was not unheard of.

In fact, coming back without your head or another body part entirely was not unheard of either. These things needed a lot of precision and those runes back there had definitely not been drawn by certified portal architects.

The thought wasn’t particularly comforting.

”First time?” Lars asked sympathetically, looking far too comfortable for someone whose atoms had just played musical chairs with the universe.

”No,” Adom managed, straightening up. ”I just really, really hate being right about how much I hate portals.”

As the portal’s disorienting effects faded, Adom found himself blinking at what could only be described as a city turned inside out. Massive cavern walls stretched up into darkness, their surfaces dotted with carved windows and doorways that glowed with a thousand different colors of magical light.

Suspended bridges of stone and metal crisscrossed the void, connecting various levels of the underground metropolis.

The air was thick with more than just the usual underground dampness - it carried the mingled scents of exotic incense, questionable alchemical experiments, and what he really hoped wasn’t burning flesh.

Voices in dozens of languages created a constant murmur that echoed off the stone walls, punctuated by occasional shouts from merchants hawking their wares.

”Welcome to the Undertow,” Marco said quietly, adjusting his grip on the still-unconscious Thormund. ”Try not to stare too obviously at anything. Or anyone.”

Before Adom could respond, a cloaked figure hurried past, leading what appeared to be a chained goblin child. In an adjacent alley, a group of well-dressed merchants examined a cage containing something that looked disturbingly elvish. Nobody seemed to notice. Or perhaps they just didn’t care.

The creature, no, the person’s eyes met Adom’s - hollow, defeated.

This narrative has been purloined without the author’s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The merchant handling the cage noticed his stare, turning slowly to fix Adom with a calculating gaze that felt like being sized up for a cage of his own.

”I believe I mentioned not staring,” Marco murmured. ”Unless you’re planning to make a purchase, don’t entertain thoughts of playing hero. It tends to significantly reduce one’s life expectancy down here.”

Adom forced his gaze away, his jaw clenched tight. Behind him, he heard the merchant make a soft ”tsk” before returning to his business.

They passed a gambling den where the stakes appeared to be measured in years rather than coins - he caught glimpses of glowing hourglasses and age-marked faces through the doorway. Next door, a shop openly displayed rows of fairies in bottles, their ethereal light casting shifting shadows on the walls.

A woman in an elaborate mask and little else lounged on a balcony draped in red silk, her barely-covered form leaving multiple afterimages as she moved - some sort of space manipulation magic that promised interesting possibilities to those with coin to spend.

When she caught Adom’s eye, she blew him a kiss that literally sparkled in the air. He looked away, but not before hearing one of the merchants behind him mutter, ”Trade my left arm for a night with one of those succubi courtesans.”

Below her, a fight broke out over what looked like a manticore egg - valuable enough to kill for, common enough that nobody seemed surprised by the violence. Blood splattered on the cobblestones, and within seconds, both the egg and the bodies had been efficiently cleared away by silent figures in gray.

”Keep moving,” Cisco murmured from Marco’s pocket. ”The cleanup crews don’t distinguish between casualties and witnesses.”

They passed through a market square where everything was for sale - literally everything. Body parts, memories, people’s dreams... Adom saw a man haggling over what appeared to be his own reflection in a mirror. In another stall, a merchant was measuring out precise quantities of bottled screams.

”Never seen the deep markets?” Lars asked, noticing his expression. ”Don’t worry. You get used to it. Eventually.”

The truth was, Adom wasn’t shocked by the Undertow - not really.

What disturbed him was how familiar it felt. What others saw as the depths of depravity, he recognized as merely the surface of what humanity was capable of. In thirty years, places like the Undertow would be considered tame - quaint, even. The markets he knew from his past life... his future... made this look like a children’s fairground.

Here, at least, they still bothered with masks and shadows, still kept their darkest dealings underground. In the world he came from, the same trades would happen in broad daylight. Slave markets would operate next to bakeries, flesh merchants would have storefronts with display windows, and people would barely blink at the sight of bodies being cleared from the streets.

That was, until they were all erased by dragon breath.

This wasn’t the worst humanity could do. Not by far.

Adom was about to suggest finding a way out of this charming place when their path was suddenly blocked by a group of men in a not very subtle way.

The leader - or at least the one with the most obvious limp - was probably human, judging by his completely ordinary attempt at looking menacing. His companion, on the other hand, was about as human as a winter morning.

Hair white as bone, skin that made paper look tan, and a smile that revealed canines just a bit too long to be sporting. Vampire. Because clearly, this day wasn’t interesting enough already.

One of Cisco’s men muttering ”shit, we’ve been caught” under his breath was probably unnecessary for Adom to deduce these weren’t exactly welcoming party material. But he appreciated the confirmation nonetheless.

The limping man adjusted his perfectly tailored coat, offering a slight bow that managed to be both courteous and condescending. ”Cisco, old friend. What a delightful surprise.”

”Augustus.” Cisco’s voice drifted from Marco’s pocket, matching the man’s refined tone. ”I wasn’t expecting to find you in these... humble surroundings.”

”Oh, you know me.” Augustus’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. ”I’m remarkably difficult to kill.”

Around them, the market’s usual bustle had subtly shifted. Merchants were suddenly very interested in reorganizing their wares. Passersby found urgent business elsewhere. Even the succubus on the balcony had disappeared behind her silk curtains.

Augustus clasped his fingers with a sharp snap that echoed off the cavern walls. ”Helios?”

The vampire’s smile widened, revealing more of those unsettling fangs. With theatrical flourish, he reached into an ornate bag at his hip and withdrew... something. The head of a young man, to be precise.

”Your ’messenger’,” Augustus sighed, examining his perfectly manicured nails, ”wasn’t quite up to standard. If you’re in the market for quality assassins, you really should come to me first.” He clicked his tongue. ”So much less... messy that way.”

Marco’s grip on Thormund tightened ever so slightly. Behind him, Lars’s hand disappeared beneath his cloak, while several of Cisco’s other men shifted their stances. One of them - a broad-shouldered man with a scarred face - actually took a half-step back, whispering ”Gods, that’s Viktor.” Another cursed under his breath, and a third seemed to be fighting the urge to reach for his weapon.

”I’ll keep that in mind,” Cisco replied. ”Your attention to detail is, as always, appreciated.”

The vampire - Helios - kept smiling, his eyes fixed on the only child of the group.

Adom’s muscles tensed as he assessed the situation. He’d never been a battle mage - his talents lay elsewhere. Taking down Damus or that serpent had been straightforward enough, but this... this was different. He might handle one or two of Augustus’s men if things went south, but the vampire was another matter entirely.

Also...

Helios hadn’t stopped staring at him since they’d been surrounded. Adom felt an urge to ask if centuries of unlife had made him forget about age-appropriate interactions, or if being creepy around minors was just a vampire thing.

The market’s usual chaos had given way to a carefully orchestrated exodus. Even the rats seemed to know better than to stick around. The air felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes, and Adom was acutely aware that they were standing in a very efficient kill box.

He really should have expected this. After all, nothing in his life had ever been simple.

Augustus’s gaze drifted to Thormund’s unconscious form, his expression almost pitying. ”The barbarian was remarkably easy to provoke. Though I suppose I should grant him a quick death, considering he led us right to you.” His smile turned philosophical. ”It’s quite fascinating how predictably you appear when your pets are in danger, Cisco.”

”Since you have grievances with me,” Cisco’s voice remained perfectly steady, ”there are proper channels. Protocols. Let us maintain some civility in our disagreements.”

”Of course, of course.” Augustus waved his hand as if shooing away an annoying thought. ”Speaking of civility...” He snapped his fingers again. ”Bring out our other guest.”

One of his men stepped forward, carrying something bundled in dark cloth. The bundle squirmed.

Cisco’s sigh seemed to echo through the entire cavern. ”Really, Augustus?”

The cloth fell away, revealing a white-furred mouse beastkin - a lanky teenager with a split lip and defiant eyes that immediately found Cisco in the crowd.

”Oh hi, Uncle.” His voice cracked slightly, trying for casual but landing somewhere between worried and apologetic. ”Help?”

Several of Cisco’s men tensed. Lars’s grip on his concealed weapon tightened enough that his knuckles cracked.

”What’s your price for my nephew, Augustus?” Cisco’s tone remained infuriatingly businesslike.

”Well, considering you sent such a... subpar assassin my way,” Augustus gestured at Viktor’s head, which Helios was still holding like some macabre accessory, ”I think a reasonable portion of your current operations would be fair compensation.”

”No.”

”Uh, Uncle Cisco?” Valiant’s whiskers twitched nervously. ”It’s me? Your beloved nephew? Valiant? Remember?” He attempted a winning smile that looked more like a grimace. ”Ha... haha?”

Another profound sigh from Cisco’s direction. ”You won’t get a single coin from me, Augustus.”

Augustus clicked his tongue, patting Valiant’s little shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. ”Tsk, tsk, tsk. You see how cold-hearted your uncle is? Why, if this was my nephew...” He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. ”I would have melted on the spot. Simply melted.”

Adom’s eyes darted around, cataloging every possible escape route while trying to look like he was just admiring the local architecture. The bridge to their left had enough support beams to slow down pursuers. That merchant stall with the bottled dreams could provide decent cover. And that narrow alley between the flesh market and the dream dealer’s shop...

A fire spell would buy them maybe three seconds of chaos - not much, but enough to slip away if timed right. The vampire would be the real problem, but if he wove an invisibility spell right after the fireball... No, better to prepare the invisibility first, then the fire. Less chance of the spells tangling.

He was just calculating how many people he’d need to knock over to reach that promising-looking side passage when Augustus’s attention shifted to him.

”And who might your little friend be? Another one of your protected children?”

Oh come on.

The atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t anything obvious - no dramatic gestures or threatening moves - but Adom felt it in his bones. The way Cisco’s men subtly adjusted their stances. The barely audible sound of Lars’s teeth grinding. The slight tremor in someone’s breathing behind him.

Adom kept his gaze down, suddenly very aware of his heartbeat. His palms were sweating. When had that started?

”This one’s not for sale, trade, or negotiation.”

There was an edge to Cisco’s voice that made everyone tense - sharp, urgent, like he’d spotted something the rest of them hadn’t yet. Even the mouse beastkin’s whiskers twitched at his uncle’s tone.

In his peripheral vision, Adom saw Helios shift his weight forward, just slightly. Just enough. The vampire’s head was tilted at that particular angle predators use when they’ve spotted something interesting. Something worth pursuing.

The market had gone dead silent. Even the rats had stopped scurrying.

”All the more reason to have him, wouldn’t you say?” Augustus’s smile widened. ”What exactly does the boy do that makes him so... special?”

Adom risked a glance up. Mistake. Helios was staring directly at him, lips parted just enough to show fang. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and Adom felt something cold and ancient trying to sink hooks into his mind.

”None of your business.”

”Magic.” Helios’s voice sliced through the conversation like a cold knife, making everyone turn to stare at Adom. The vampire’s smile grew impossibly wider, revealing even more of those unsettling fangs. ”He does magic, boss. If I focus really hard, I can smell it on him. Real magic. Interesting magic.”

”Oh, a mag-”

[Fireball]

BOOM!

Augustus’s face disappeared in a flash of searing flame, his scream cut short as flesh melted and hair vaporized. The smell of burning meat filled the air as his body staggered backward, hands clawing at what remained of his features.

[Fireball]

The second spell hit the potion stall dead center. Glass shattered. Liquids ignited. The explosion sent shards of burning wood and alchemical compounds in every direction. Someone’s arm went flying past, still clutching a sword.

[Camouflage]

[You have slain [Augustus Cain]]

”KILL THEM ALL!” Cisco’s command cracked like a whip.

The place erupted into violence. Lars’s crossbow bolt found a throat, spraying arterial blood across the stone floor. Marco’s blade opened a man from navel to sternum, entrails spilling out in a steaming heap. The air filled with screams and the wet sounds of steel meeting flesh.

Helios’s roar of fury shook dust from the ceiling as he lunged through the flames, his pristine clothes now splattered with gore. The vampire’s fangs snapped shut on empty air where Adom had been standing a heartbeat before.

Dream-vials exploded, releasing nightmares made manifest. Men screamed as shadowy apparitions added to the pandemonium. The acrid stench of burning hair and meat mixed with the copper tang of blood.

Through the chaos, Adom moved exactly as planned, each step calculated. His first human kill in this life lay burning behind him, face melted into an unrecognizable mass of charred flesh. No time to think about that now. No time to process. Just move.

Adom’s heart hammered against his ribs as he weaved through the carnage. A shadow-tendril whipped past his face, close enough that he felt its cold touch brush his cheek. His [Camouflage] flickered – maintaining invisibility required focus, and his mind was anything but focused right now.

Blood. There was so much blood. Someone’s intestines squelched under his boot as he dodged past a falling body. The spell flickered again. Calm down. Calm down. The exit was just ahead, past the-

His [Camouflage] failed completely as a nightmare-shadow slashed across his path. He stumbled, regained his footing, recast the spell with trembling hands. The magic sputtered, barely taking hold. His training had never covered anything like this. The screaming, the burning flesh, the-

Focus. There. The passage he’d spotted earlier. Just twenty more steps. Fifteen. Ten-

”FOUND YOU!”

Helios’s voice, far too close behind him.

[Water Spray] hit the ground, followed instantly by [Fire] - steam erupted in a scalding cloud. Helios blurred through it, skin blistering but healing just as fast.

[Control]

A merchant’s table flipped up, sending glass vials flying at the vampire. Helios dodged most, but one shattered against his shoulder, a liquid hissing as it ate into his flesh.

”Getting annoying now-”

[Fireball] struck the airborne liquid, igniting it. Blue flames crawled up the vampire’s arm. He snarled, patting them out even as Adom was already casting-

[Push]

The burning display cart rocketed toward Helios. The vampire batted it aside, but Adom had already woven-

[Stone Spike]

The jagged protrusion caught Helios’s leg, tearing through muscle. Blood sprayed, but the wound was closing even as-

CRACK!

Adom saw the fist coming. Saw it shatter the [Barrier] he weaved on his stomach. It barely stopped the blow from tearing through him, but he still felt the full force of its consequences.

Reality compressed into a single point of agony.

The world became pure force. His feet left the ground, stomach somewhere in his throat, the barrier spell creaking under impossible pressure as his small body turned into a projectile.

People screamed, diving out of the way as he crashed through the wall of a shop. Wood splintered. Glass shattered. Even through the barrier, he felt ribs crack, organs compress. Adult bodies could hardly take hits like that. Children’s bodies...

Suffice to say that without the spell, Adom would have been paste on the wall.

[+4 White Wyrm Body]

Adom’s world narrowed to blinding pain. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. His body convulsed, stomach heaving violently as he curled into himself. Black spots danced in his vision. Every attempt to draw breath sent daggers through his chest. That body enhancement skill might have been the only thing that kept the barrier spell from being insufficient - his organs would have liquified on impact otherwise.

Through the settling dust and debris, two yellow eyes gleamed. Helios emerged from the hole in the wall, wood cracking under his feet as he approached, fangs glinting in a satisfied smile.

”Still alive? Impressive. Let’s fix that.”

In moments like these, when faced with an obviously superior vampire in a part of town where screams were more common than street names, most people would consider two perfectly reasonable options. First: begging for your life.

Completely sensible. Adom was a mage, after all. Useful. Practical. The vampire might see value in keeping him alive.

Second: running away.

Less effective, granted. Playing hide-and-seek with someone who could punch you through architecture typically ended with your neck between their fangs. But still rational.

Yes. These were the thoughts of reasonable people making reasonable choices in unreasonable situations.

Adom had always considered himself a calm reasonable person. Rational. Logical. Whenever the situation called for it.

But sometimes, when you’re a 79-year-old man in a child’s body, and someone hits you so hard you become one with the furniture, you discover new things about yourself.

Like spite.

Pure, unadulterated, petty spite.

The kind of spite that makes you forget you only have one life to lose. The kind that makes you want to punch a vampire in his perfect teeth just because he made you go through a wall. The kind that burns hotter than reason, logic, or self-preservation.

The worst part wasn’t even the pain. It was the indignity. He’d passed gas. Him. Adom Sylla. A respected senior citizen. In public. No one probably heard it, but still. Someone was dying here today.

[System recalibrating...]

[Detecting physiological changes...]

[New parameter detected: Emotional Catalyst - Spite]

[Initiating power synchronization...]

[New skill: Spiteful Fighting Spirit acquired! (Rare)]

• Physical Parameters Updated:

Strength: +50%Agility: +30%Reflexes: +40%Pain Tolerance: +100%Mana Pool: +25%[Warning: Physiological changes detected]

• Heart Rate: 180 BPM ↑

• Blood Pressure: Critical ↑

• Adrenaline Levels: 300% above baseline

• Muscle Tension: Maximum

• Vessel Dilation: 85%

[BREAKTHROUGH - Fluid Channels Unlocked!]

• Status: Active

• Flow: Unstable

• Resonance: Spite-aligned

• Channel Pattern: Azure Flame

[Integration Complete]

Blue energy crackled across Adom’s skin like living flame, his rage crystallizing into raw power. For the first time in his life, he felt fluid moving through his body, responding to his fury, turning his spite into strength.

He glared at the vampire, whose smug grin never wavered.

”I’ll wipe that smile off your face, punk.”