The Ultimate Regressor System

Dragging three Bora carcasses back through the fortress gate turned out to be considerably harder than killing them had been, and by the time Mark and Lucas finally hauled the last one through the barrier, both of them were sweating fresh all over again despite having already emptied every reserve of energy they had.

"Remind me," Mark grunted, dropping his end unceremoniously, "why we didn’t just leave these things to rot in the street."

"Proof," Lucas said, equally tired. "People feel safer seeing the threat actually dead, not just told it’s handled." He then added. "Plus, we need more food. Beast meat actually tastes good..."

A small crowd had already gathered by the time they finished, survivors drifting over from the training yard and dining hall alike, murmuring at the sheer size of the carcasses now sprawled just inside the gate.

[Ding!]

[Reverence Detected]

[Current Recognition: 121 Witnesses.]

’What—?’ Lucas narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t the number he’d been seeing before...

A few of Mor’s people stood near the front of the gathering, having apparently heard enough about the fight already to want to see the proof for themselves.

"Look at the size of that thing," someone murmured. "And there were five of them?"

"The Mountain King and the Terror," another voice added, hushed and a little awe struck. "Guess that’s why they call him that."

Lucas raised an eyebrow... ’Wait... how did they know about my—’

One of Mor’s group, a scrawny man Lucas vaguely recognized from the gas station, leaned toward a companion, voice pitched low but high enough that Lucas could hear what he was saying....

"Heard he walked straight into a horde back at his old Faction. Didn’t even flinch. Some people are saying he can’t die."

"That’s not—" Lucas started, then caught himself, closing his mouth before the protest could fully form. Correcting the rumor would only draw more attention to it, he thought...

Lucas’s jaw tightened at the words, and he kept his expression carefully neutral even as something uncomfortable setteled into his stomach.

He stared at the notification a moment longer than he meant to, the number sitting there with the same quiet, unwanted weight it always carried— something he had come to hate of anything... A hundred and twenty one people now looked at him and thought Terror before they thought Lucas.

It seems that Mor’s people had heard about his fights fast enough that it didn’t matter whether they saw it directly.

The thought settled uncomfortably in his chest.

They really didn’t know... they didn’t know how much every fight had actually cost him...

"You okay?" Mark asked, catching the look on his face.

"Fine," Lucas said, as the notification faded to a close. "Just tired."

Mark studied him a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, the same searching look Eleanor had given him when she suspected he wasn’t telling the whole truth, before apparently deciding exhaustion was reason enough to let it go for now.

"Alright, that fair." A pause, then he added. "Speaking of things I noticed... what was that back there? The fire on your legs. That’s new."

Lucas glanced down at his own boots, the memory of the fight still fresh in his mind. " Oh that? Well [Ignition] evolved. It happened during the Avallion attack, actually, right before things got ugly. I can channel it through my legs now, not just my fists. It grants better mobility, faster and stronger strikes too"

"So you can fly now."

"I did not say I could fly."

"You launched yourself across a battlefield on burning legs. That’s basically flying." Mark grinned, delighted. "Congratulations, Princess. You’ve unlocked a whole new tier of dramatic entrances."

"It’s not flying, Mark."

"Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Flying Princess."

"Call me that one more time and I’m setting your gauntlets on fire," Lucas muttered, though the threat carried no real heat behind it.

"You say that like it’ll change anything about my situation," Mark said cheerfully. "Also, don’t dodge the real point here... your ability evolved. That’s genuinely impressive, sure. Most people’s skills just kind of... sit there, doing the same thing forever."

"It’s still one ability," Lucas said, more defensive than he meant to sound. "Doesn’t matter how many times it evolves. I’ve still only got [Ignition]." He said, the lie adding more weight than he meant it too...

"Sure, sure." Mark’s grin didn’t fade in the slightest. "One ability. That now flies."

Mark shrugged, then smiled again. "Point is, Flying Fireproof Princess has a nice ring to it. I could workshop it further. A lot more family friendly than ’The Terror’"

Lucas sighed in exasperation "Please don’t."

Mark clapped him on the shoulder anyway, the same unforgiving grin on his face, and despite everything Lucas found himself huffing something close to a real laugh.

***

The remaining days passed in a blur of preparation, training, and the particular, low grade dread that came from knowing exactly when the next Edgewalk would begin and being utterly unable to stop its arrival. And for Lucas, it only meant that he was going to face more deaths..

Mor’s people mixed in slowly but surely, some finding their footing faster than others.

Others struggled more, flinching at every loud noise, and Callum spent long hours simply sitting with the most shaken among them, offering quiet company more than any actual healing— something he was surprisingly good at.

[Time remaining for the next Edgewalk: 00:00:59:50]

By the time the countdown reached its final hour, the entire fortress had gathered in the courtyard, survivors old and new standing together in loose, anxious clusters, with the restless energy of people trying to control something that refused to be controlled.

Eleanor climbed atop the same low platform she’d used a few times before, and the courtyard quieted as she raised a hand for attention.

"One hour," she said, voice carrying clean and steady across the gathered crowd. "One hour until the system pulls us back into the Edge, and I want to be honest with all of you about what that means."

She paused, letting the silence stretch, and Lucas watched her gather herself before continuing.

"Last time, some of us went in together and came out scattered across a forest with no idea where anyone else had landed. I don’t know if that’s how it’ll work this time. I don’t know if the system drops us as one group or a hundred separate ones. What I do know is this : brace for the possibility that we don’t land together. Brace for the chance that you’ll open your eyes and find yourself alone, or with strangers instead of the people you trained beside all week."

A ripple of unease moved through the crowd, and Eleanor let it pass before pressing on.

"If that happens, if you land somewhere without me, without Mark, without Lucas, or without anyone you recognize, you are not abandoned. You are not forgotten. Every single one of us has already proven, more than once, that we can survive being scattered and find our way back to each other. We did it before. We’ll do it again if we have to."

Her gaze swept the crowd, steady and unflinching. "Whatever the Edge throws at us this time, we’ve already survived it once, we’ll do it again... Hold onto that, and if you can’t, hold onto the fact that we are coming to find you."

The courtyard fell silent for a long moment, the weight of her words settling over one hundred and twenty one people bracing for a nightmare they’d already lived through once and would soon live through again.

Then, slowly, a ragged murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. It wasn’t confidence exactly, but something steadier than the fear that had been sitting there a moment before. A few people even managing something close to a smile.

Mark found Lucas’ side as the crowd began dispersing to final positions, checking gear one last time. "You good?"

"No," Lucas admitted. "But I wasn’t good the first time either, and we survived that."

"Solid logic, Flying Princess."

"I will end you."

Mark just grinned, unbothered, and exhaled, glancing toward Eleanor as she stepped down from the platform, expression carefully composed despite the uncertainty visible underneath it. "She’s something else, you know. Giving a speech like that with an hour left on the clock."

"She’s always been something else," Lucas said quietly, shrugging. "Just took the rest of the world falling apart for everyone else to notice."

They found Eleanor near the gate, and the three of them stood together in the last stretch of quiet before the countdown ran out. Not saying much, just present, the way they’d been present for each other since long before any of this had started.

Nearby, Bertram checked his machete’s edge one final time, murmuring something to Iris that made her huff a small, tired laugh despite the tension in the air.

Lora stood a short distance away, dagger already sheathed at her hip, watching the courtyard with the same careful, calculating focus she had carried since the day Lucas first dragged her into this fight.

Callum hovered near a cluster of Mor’s newest survivors, offering quiet, last minute reassurances to people who’d never faced anything like what waited for them on the other side.

Lucas looked at them. ’They didn’t get abilities. But the system will still drag them into this...’

"Whatever happens," Eleanor said eventually, "we find each other. No matter how long it takes."

"You bet your ass we will," Mark said, smiling...

Lucas nodded, throat tight as he remembered everything that was waiting for him— the Sovereign of Death, the mark, the hunt that could come for him at any moment regardless of what the Edge itself threw his way. "Same," he managed instead. "Whatever happens."

The countdown reached its final seconds, the courtyard around them holding its breath, bracing together for whatever came next.

[You have been marked by the Sovereign of Death.]

Lucas closed his eyes briefly, the crimson interface of the Sovereign’s warning surfacing one last time before he forced it back down. Whatever waited for him in the Edge be it beasts, hordes, or something far worse holding a scythe, he’d face it the same way he’d faced everything else since the sky first cracked open.

One fight at a time, one death at a time...

**WHOOSH**

The world dissolved into white.

[Ding!]

[Welcome Back to The Edge.]

~~~~~

Author: Hey y’all. We’ve finally begun volume two. I have a lot of things planned for it just hoping I’ll be able to execute it as well as possible.

Thanks for supporting the book and I hope you continue to enjoy and support the novel...(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)