Cardo sat cross-legged on his bed, studying the two crystallized stones resting in his palm.
One was a cloudy gray—the core of the F-Rank scavenger rat. It felt smooth and inert, like a polished piece of glass. The other was a sharp, pulsing crimson—the core he had pulled from the hound. This one felt distinctly different. It carried a faint, residual warmth, a lingering echo of the beast's raw power.
There is a heavy amount of Aether trapped in here, Cardo thought, running his thumb over the crimson lattice. I just need to unlock it.
He pressed the crimson stone against the jagged mark etched into his right wrist, hoping to coax his innate ability anomaly awake. During the fight, the mark had acted on pure instinct. It had felt like a starving vacuum tearing through his veins to consume the hound's attack.
He closed his eyes and focused his breathing. He pushed a thin thread of his own sluggish Aether toward the mark, trying to jumpstart the anomaly.
"Come on," he urged silently. You were starving a few nights ago. Eat this.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
The mark stayed cold. It did not throb. It did not pull. Cardo opened his eyes, frowning at his unmarked wrist.
Why did it trigger in the alley but not here? What is the missing variable?
He replayed the chaotic fight in his mind. The snapping jaws, the sudden pressure, the wild, kinetic burst of the Void-Hound's energy just before it struck. He looked down at the smooth, quiet stone in his hand.
The conclusion settled into his mind with quiet certainty.
Volatility, Cardo realized. This core is stable. The energy is trapped, stagnant. It is dead.
His mutation did not respond to stabilized energy. It acted like a predator, and it did not scavenge cold remains. The anomaly required the volatile, living Aether of an active target to wake the vacuum inside him.
These stones were naturally useless to his crest.
Cardo let out a quiet laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders. He wasn't disappointed in the slightest.
If I can't absorb them for cultivation, he thought, tossing the crimson core lightly into the air and catching it, then they are just hefty, glowing currency.
He shoved the stones into his jacket pocket, a bright smile breaking across his face. It was time to get paid.
Instead of navigating the shady stalls of the black market, Cardo used the secure contact code. Enforcer Vance had given him. They agreed to meet at a neon-lit, 24-hour diner on the border of La Paz town.
When Cardo arrived, the diner was bustling with morning factory workers. He spotted Vance sitting in a corner booth. The veteran Enforcer wore a casual leather jacket and looked surprisingly relaxed. In fact, the imposing, scarred Enforcer was currently focused on a tall stack of pancakes drowning in maple syrup.
Cardo slid into the vinyl booth across from him. "Morning."
"You used the emergency cipher for breakfast, kid?" Vance asked, taking a bite of his pancakes.
"I used it for business," Cardo said cheerfully. He reached into his pocket and placed the two Aether cores on the scratched table.
Vance stopped chewing. He looked at the dull gray stone, and then his eyes locked onto the pulsing crimson of the Void-Hound core. A smirk tugged at the corner of the Enforcer's mouth.
"Alright, I'll bite," Vance said, leaning back and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Where exactly did a scrawny Outer Rim kid get his hands on a pristine E-Rank Void-Hound core? Did the beast trip on a curb and fall onto your fist?"
"Something like that." Cardo grinned, leaning against the table. "I just got lucky on my evening stroll. You told me you buy salvage on the side. I'm looking to sell."
Vance chuckled, picking up the crimson core and holding it up to the diner's fluorescent lights. "You did get lucky. The lattice frame is intact. This is excellent material."
Vance set the core back down and looked at Cardo. The Enforcer's tone shifted to something resembling a mentor.
"Since you survived the breach, I'll give you a free lesson in market economics," Vance said. "If you try to sell these to a street vendor, they will rob you blind. You need to know the baseline values."
Cardo nodded, giving the Enforcer his full attention.
"The Association sets the floor, and the private alchemists set the ceiling," Vance explained, tapping his finger on the table. "An F-Rank core, like your gray one there, is basically a household battery. It runs from ten thousand to twenty thousand credits, depending on the current market demand."
Vance pointed to the crimson stone. "An E-Rank core is where the real money starts. They are used for mid-tier weapons and medical refinement. A standard E-Rank goes for twenty thousand, but a pristine one like this can push up to fifty thousand credits. Once you hit D-Rank, you are talking about industrial and elite-grade materials. Those run anywhere from fifty thousand to one hundred and fifty thousand credits."
Cardo did the math in his head. The numbers were staggering. A single D-Rank core could buy a house in their neighborhood.
"So," Cardo said, keeping a smile on his face. "What is your offer for the pair?"
Vance picked up his coffee mug. He looked at the kid across from him—a kid who had stood his ground against a void hound to protect a stranger. Vance respected that kind of grit.
"The gray one is standard. Call it fifteen thousand," Vance calculated. "The crimson one is high quality. I'll give you fifty thousand for it. Sixty-five thousand total."
Cardo's eyes went wide. It was more than he had hoped for. "Deal."
Vance tapped a pattern into his military-grade wrist communicator. A second later, Cardo's personal datapad chimed from his pocket.
"Untraceable digital transfer," Vance said, sweeping the cores off the table and returning to his pancakes. "Don't spend it all on candy, kid."
"Thanks, Officer," Cardo said, sliding out of the booth and pulling out his datapad. The screen glowed with a confirmed balance of 65,000 credits. "Enjoy your breakfast."
Cardo practically floated all the way back to Uncle Jun's house. The morning sun felt warm on his shoulders, and the updated digital balance humming on his device felt like the key to a brand-new life.
He walked through the front door and headed straight for the kitchen.
Aunt Maria was sitting at the small dining table. She had a pencil tucked behind her ear and a stack of paper notices spread out in front of her. She was rubbing her temples, quietly muttering over a faded calculator. Her own worn datapad sat beside her, displaying a list of overdue utility fees.
Cardo walked up beside her. He didn't say a word. He just unlocked his datapad, authorized a swift transaction, and tapped his device against hers.
Aunt Maria's datapad let out a sharp, cheerful chime.
She stopped calculating. She looked down at her screen, blinking once, then twice, leaning forward as if she expected the glowing numbers to be a glitch.
"Cardo," she breathed, her voice trembling. "What... where did this come from?"
"I sold some salvaged items from the last gate break," Cardo said with a bright smile. "That is Uncle Jun's cut. Thirty percent of the haul."
"Thirty percent?" Aunt Maria looked up at him, her eyes shining with sudden, overwhelming relief. "Cardo, this sum is twenty thousand credits. This pays the rent for the rest of the year. This amount pays for Jun's physical therapy."
"Then pay it," Cardo laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And buy Clarissa that new backpack she keeps talking about. Buy yourself a new dress. Don't worry about the math today."
Aunt Maria let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. She stood up and pulled him into a tight, warm hug.
Cardo hugged her back, feeling a deep sense of peace settle into his chest. He still had forty-five thousand credits left in his account to fund his training for the next five months. He was going to work harder than ever before. But as he stood in the kitchen, listening to his aunt laugh with relief, he knew his real foundation was already secure.