The ruins were silent once more, an oppressive silence that pressed down upon them. Dust still lingered in the air from the fallen guardian, its shattered core bleeding faint glimmers like dying embers, a reminder of power that had once been alive. The glyphs along the canyon walls, which had thrummed with energy moments before, now lay dormant, their glow fading as though the entire ruin had exhaled and fallen into a slumber.
Leo tightened his grip on his rifle, fingers brushing against the worn metal. His hands shook, but not from fear. It was the aftershock of resonance, the lingering pulse that had taken root inside him. Even now, a faint hum ran through his veins, an echo of the energy that had surged from the guardian, slipping farther away but refusing to vanish completely.
He could not, would not, forget the hooded figure. It had been there, observing, waiting. And he knew with an instinctive certainty that it had seen him as clearly as he had seen it.
Sofia broke the silence with the precision of a blade cutting through shadow. "No chatter. Regroup," she commanded. Her voice was flat, clipped, all business, yet her eyes lingered on Leo for a fraction too long, sharp, calculating, as if measuring the magnitude of what had just occurred.
Evelyn moved to the fallen guardian, kneeling beside its fractured remains. Her healer's gauntlets glowed faintly, illuminating the latticework of crystalline fragments as she brushed dust away with careful hands. "It was not alive in the way prowlers are," she murmured, reverence threading her voice. "It was constructed. Designed to function, yet guided by rules beyond our understanding."
Owen stepped closer, excitement flashing across his face as he swept his drones over the ruins. "Constructed with what, though? Look at the lattice patterns! These shards, these conduits, they are engineered. Whoever built this wasn't merely advanced. They shaped life from stone, from resonance. Imagine what we could learn if we..."
"Focus," Sofia interrupted, her tone hard as steel. "Where is the artifact?"
Owen swallowed his excitement and pointed toward the shattered statue where the guardian had emerged. The core now glimmered faintly, and nested within the cracked stone lay a smaller shard. Unlike the jagged fragments scattered across the canyon, this piece was smooth, its surface carved with spiraling glyphs that seemed to twist and shimmer with a life of their own.
"The artifact," Owen whispered, awe softening his voice. "It is intact."
Approaching it felt wrong, as if the ruin itself were warning him away.
Leo's chest constricted with each step. The resonance inside him thrummed in response to the shard's glow, harmonizing as if recognizing an old friend. His palms were slick with sweat, breath catching in his throat, yet his feet carried him forward as though compelled by invisible threads.
Sofia noticed and spoke sharply. "Rivers. Stop moving forward immediately."
He froze in place. The shard pulsed once, perfectly in time with his heartbeat.
The others watched in stunned silence.
Owen frowned, scanning his wristpad. "Energy spike… no, it is synchronization. That is impossible. The shard is reading as if it recognizes him, as if it has chosen him."
Evelyn's face paled, fear flickering in her eyes. "That is dangerous. Artifacts are meant to enhance, to channel power. They are tools, not sentient. Bonding directly to a human could consume him completely."
Leo could not retreat. His hand lifted against his own will, moving toward the shard. When his fingertips brushed its surface, light erupted across the ruins, cascading over pillars, statues, and shattered stone. The hum in his chest swelled into a roaring chorus, filling his entire being.
Images assaulted his mind in shards, fragments of a truth too vast for mortal comprehension. Cities floated above alien clouds, gates swallowing entire armies of armored titans, and a woman cloaked in starlight pressed her hand against a dying world, her presence commanding awe, terror, and hope all at once.
And beneath it all, a voice whispered, soft but unmistakable:
"The Ascendant must walk the path."
Leo gasped and fell to his knees, the shard settling into his palm with a weight both unnatural and intimate.
Silence fell once more. Dust drifted lazily in the faint glow of the shard, and the canyon seemed to hold its breath.
Owen stared, slack-jawed. "It chose him. The shard… it chose him."
"That is impossible," Evelyn whispered, her voice trembling. "Artifacts do not choose. They are instruments of power. They cannot do this." Her words faltered, caught in the awe and fear that gripped her. "Unless the legends are true."
Sofia sheathed her blade deliberately, her movements calm but resolute. "We are done here. Collect what needs collecting and return to Veyra immediately." Her gaze was sharp, lingering on Leo as if measuring both the potential and danger contained within him.
The journey back through the portal was tense. No one spoke. The artifact lay in Leo's hand, wrapped in a containment cloth, but still pulsing faintly, as though alive. Every shift of his grip sent subtle tremors through him, whispering intent, urging him forward along a path he did not yet understand.
When the villagers still lingered at the edge of the forest, they recoiled at the sight of the artifact. Some crossed themselves with whispered blessings, others spat curses into the wind.
"Reclaimer witchcraft!" one screamed."Blasphemy!" shouted another."Guardians will strike you down!" warned a third.
Sofia ignored them all, leading the team toward the waiting transport. But Leo felt the intensity of their gaze. Hatred, fear, and fascination burned in their eyes. He had encountered disdain before, distant and abstract. Now it was sharp, personal, and impossible to ignore.
For the first time, a question pressed into his mind: If they knew what he had become inside the ruins, would they still see him as human?
Night had fallen when they returned to the Citadel. Its black towers loomed like teeth against the artifact-lit skyline, stark against the glowing spires and canals below. Within, the Council's banners hung from vaulted ceilings, symbols of order, control, and the ever-present weight of fear.
Sofia dismissed the auxiliary members, then turned sharply to Leo, Owen, and Evelyn. "Listen carefully," she said, voice low, hard as forged steel. "Nothing that happened in that realm leaves this room. The Council will ask questions. You will not give answers. Not one syllable."
Owen blinked, disbelief and excitement flickering across his features. "But Sofia, do you realize what this means? Direct resonance, a bond with an artifact of this magnitude… this is historic."
"It is dangerous," Sofia interrupted, voice unwavering. "The Council does not care for history. They care only for control. If they learn that Rivers bonded with that shard, he will not leave this Citadel alive."
Evelyn's expression softened with pity as she looked at Leo. "She is right. They would dissect you like a specimen, or worse. They would use you until nothing remained but power and bone."
Leo's throat tightened. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
Sofia met his gaze. "Keep your head down. Train. Learn control. And wait. Wait until we understand what this means, and until the moment you are ready to walk the path laid before you."
Leo nodded, unease gnawing at him. Even now, he could feel the artifact, whispering at the edges of his consciousness. Its presence called to him, insistent, insatiable. The Ascendant must walk the path.
He did not know what the words truly meant, but he understood with a certainty that chilled him: They were meant for him, and him alone.
Later, in the Citadel barracks, Leo lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The shard rested in a containment case beside his bed, glowing faintly. Each pulse echoed through the room like a heartbeat, steady, insistent, marking time in a world that no longer felt entirely his own.
He closed his eyes, attempting to force sleep, but it did not come. Instead, he saw the hooded figure again, standing silently among the ruins, watching him.
And for the first time, he understood with absolute clarity: the figure had not disappeared. It had followed him.
It had chosen to watch, and it would not turn away.