Dawn came too soon and not soon enough at the same time.
Jyn had barely slept, his dreams filled with strange patterns and voices that might have been his parents or might have been something else entirely. The shard had been active all night, it felt irregular, almost anxious.
Jyn met up with Xander and Elesa that morning at the workshop as the first pale light touched the Crystalist grove surrounding the city. They looked as tired as he felt, but you could see it in their eyes they were also determined. They'd all made their choice, no matter what they would be joining Jyn until the end, they were family.
"Good morning sleepy head, are you ready?" Elesa asked, checking her gear one final time.
"As ready as I can be for entering a possibly non-existent facility in reality-thin wasteland while being guided by a whispering crystal," Xander replied.
"So, no," Jyn translated.
"Pretty much. But we will go with you to the ends of the Earth."
They'd packed for an extended journey—food for two months, water purification tablets, medical supplies, ammunition, and all the specialized equipment the Voss family had provided. The Shiverstalker—Vera—carried the bulk of it, her eight legs moving with surprising grace despite the load.
Greg and Alex were there to see them off, along with Mira who looked like she'd been up all night probably running calculations.
"I've updated the route maps," she said, handing them a data pad. "Avoiding the worst radiation zones and known Hollowborn territories. Though with their new behavior..."
"We'll adapt," Jyn assured her.
"That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered.
Greg pulled them each into a hug—even Elesa, who stiffened slightly at the contact before relaxing.
"You're always welcome here," he said. "No matter what happens, no matter what you find or what finds you. This is your home."
"Thank you," Jyn said, and meant it. The Voss family had taken him in after his parents' death, treated him as one of their own. That debt could never be repaid.
Alex was more reserved but no less sincere. "The coordinates from your parents' research put the Whispering Vault approximately three months south, assuming normal travel conditions."
"Which we won't have," Elesa pointed out.
"Which you won't have," Alex agreed. "More realistically, expect a few extra weeks. Maybe more if you have to detour around hazards."
"Or if hazards detour toward us," Xander added cheerfully.
They left through the workshop's private exit, avoiding the main streets. The morning market was just beginning to stir, but they had no desire for public farewells or official notice of their departure.
The walk to the grove's edge was quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The Crystalist trees loomed above them, their amber bark glowing in the morning light. The air here was clean, filtered through biological processes that turned toxins into harmless compounds. It was hard to leave this safety for the poisoned wasteland beyond.
At the checkpoint, Chen was just finishing her night shift. She looked exhausted but alert as ever, her hand never far from her weapon.
"Early start," she observed, noting their heavy packs and the mechanical spider poking out the top of Xander's bag.
"Best time to travel," Jyn replied. "Less competition for salvage."
"And fewer things hunting in daylight," she added knowingly. "Though that's been changing lately. Day hunters, night hunters, some things that don't seem to care about light at all."
"We'll be careful."
"You always say that, but I don't think you know what the word means." She logged them out on her data pad. "Southern routes?"
"That's the plan."
"Bad plan. Three more settlements went dark yesterday. All southern territory. The Confederacy's putting together a major expedition, but between you and me, I don't think they'll find anything but empty buildings and questions."
"What do you think happened?"
Chen was quiet for a moment, then: "I think something's calling them. The infected, the changed, maybe even the desperate. Something's gathering them for a purpose we don't understand."
"The Covenant?" Elesa suggested.
"Maybe. Or maybe something worse." She waved them through. "Try to come back, would you? You're some of the few interesting people who pass through here."
They moved through the checkpoint and into the wasteland. The transition was as jarring as always—from life to death in the space of a few steps. The ground went from moss-covered earth to cracked, poisoned soil. The air, even filtered through their masks, tasted wrong.
Behind them, Aegis rose like a dream, the Crystalist grove a green and gold barrier against the gray desolation. It looked impossible, a fairy tale city that shouldn't exist in this burned world. Yet it did exist, through human ingenuity and stubbornness and the biological miracle of the Crystalist trees.
"Last chance to turn back," Jyn said, though he knew none of them would.
"And miss all the fun?" Xander asked. "Not a chance."
"Besides," Elesa added, "someone needs to keep you two from doing something terminally stupid."
They walked south, following routes marked on maps that might or might not still be accurate. The wasteland had a way of rewriting geography—toxic storms carved new channels, and sometimes entire areas simply changed overnight for reasons no one understood.
The first day's travel was almost normal. They avoided a pack of rad-wolves by taking shelter in a collapsed overpass. They navigated around a toxic swamp that hadn't been there last month. They found and salvaged some useful components from a military convoy that had been picked clean of everything valuable but still held some overlooked supplies.
It was late afternoon when the shard's whispers became clear enough to understand:
South... deeper... the threshold weakens...
"You're navigating by crystal whispers," Elesa observed giving Jyn a side eye.
"It's worked so far," Jyn pointed out with a shrug.
"It led us in some interesting situations so far, I don't know if I would say it worked."
"But we survived."
"We always do, and always will, survive."