The corridor to the Neurox chamber thrummed with low, electric resonance, a vibration that crept into the bones. Glassy walls pulsed faintly with veins of light, carrying signals deep into the crystalline core. Every step felt like walking deeper into a nervous system that was alive and listening.
The Ampers walked in a tight formation around Grant. Their suspicion hadn't faded since his return; if anything, it grew sharper the closer they drew to Neurox. Whispers of boots against steel, Brakkon's heavy exhale, Slha's restless fingers tapping at her wrist-comm—all filled the silence.
The chamber itself opened like a cathedral of crystal and circuitry. A vast lattice of translucent spires arched overhead, humming with psionic waves. At the center stood the throne-like cradle of the Neurox system, a seat designed for amplification, where thought became signal, where the mind could sweep across continents and drag secrets out of shadows.
John Charleston moved with purpose, his coat sweeping as he adjusted panels and glowing nodes, the crystalline console flickering at his touch. "It's ready," he said, his voice echoing in the vaulted chamber. "Once Neurox is active, it will tune to any Gifted signature on the planet. No hiding, no masks."
Grant stood at the edge of the light, his crimson-streaked hair catching the glow of the chamber. The weight of their stares pressed against him harder than the Neurox itself.
Then a hand caught his sleeve.
Anna. Her eyes, sharp yet uncertain, locked on his. She leaned close, lowering her voice beneath the chamber's hum. "Before this starts…" she whispered, almost urgent, "we need to talk. Alone."
Her grip lingered, trembling just enough to betray the fear she'd tried to bury since the moment she saw him again.
Grant eased Anna through the archway, the pulsing hum of Neurox softening behind them. Before he could speak, movement caught his eye—a figure waiting in the hall like she'd been drawn there by fate itself.
She couldn't have been older than twenty. Blonde hair cascaded down in loose waves, the ends tipped in a striking pink that shimmered against the sterile lights. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, weren't fixed on Grant's face but on his hand.
"The ring," she whispered, stepping closer.
Grant froze. The Ring of Transit pulsed faintly on his finger, crimson threads weaving around it like embers. But no one—no one—had ever been able to see it before.
"You shouldn't—" he started, but the girl cut him off, her voice trembling with awe. "It's beautiful. Alive."
Anna stiffened beside him, already sliding into a defensive stance. "Who are you?" she demanded.
The girl didn't answer. Her hand lifted, almost involuntarily, like she was reaching toward something she'd been searching for her entire life. Grant stepped back, but not fast enough.
Her fingertips brushed the metal.
The world cracked open.
A surge of multicolored energy tore through the corridor—red, pink, and orange bursting outward in a violent collision of light. The force blasted through steel and crystal, rattling the very foundations of the chamber.
Grant and the girl were thrown like ragdolls, their bodies colliding midair before slamming into opposite walls. The Neurox chamber's doors quaked, alarms flaring, light fracturing across the room as if reality itself had been jarred loose.
Anna shielded her eyes, heart hammering, as the impossible storm raged before her.
The blast hurled them outward, not just knocked them down—an explosion of light and force that sent Grant and the blonde girl skidding across the polished floor. They hit hard, the shock stealing their breath, their limbs jerking.
And then—silence.
Their eyes glazed, their bodies rigid, locked in visions not of their choosing.
For the girl, reality bled into something impossible: Grant stood before her, no mask, no hesitation. His presence was steady, commanding—yet there was no warmth. He guided her hands as fire curled around her fingertips, teaching her how to unmake, how to unravel, how to bring a universe itself to ruin. The lesson felt both foreign and intimate, a nightmare branded as destiny.
Grant saw the girl years from now, her face drenched in sweat, lips trembling as she screamed through labor. Blood, too much of it, staining her trembling body as she clutched for life. Something vital, something world-breaking, hung at the edge of the vision—but before he could reach it, it snapped away, cut like a severed thread.
Both gasped awake at once, coughing, clawing against the tiled floor as though dragging themselves out of drowning depths. The chamber lights flickered wildly overhead.
Grant's voice cracked with fury. "What are you? What's your gift?"
The girl's pupils dilated with terror. "I don't know! I swear I don't know!" Her words tripped over themselves, frantic, her entire frame shaking.
She bolted, stumbling at first, then sprinting down the hall with raw desperation.
Grant lurched to his feet, body tense, ready to chase. But Anna's hand snapped around his arm, firm, unyielding.
"Don't." Her grip tightened as his jaw clenched. "We are not done here."
Frustration burned in Grant's chest. The girl's words—her terror—still echoed in his ears. He couldn't sit still, couldn't wait for John or anyone else.
His eyes turned red in answer to his fury. Crimson threads laced outward, fracturing the chamber's walls like stained glass. Before Anna could protest, the world folded, and they were gone.
Anna staggered, her breath hitching as her boots found no ground—only a glimmering lattice of light beneath her feet. Above, around, and through them stretched infinity: galaxies coiled like living jewels, stars pulsing in waves, whole universes suspended in endless spheres. At the center, vast and radiant, ticked the Zenith Watch—an impossible construct of gears and halos, each movement resonating like the heartbeat of creation itself.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Grant's voice carried with strange gravity. "This is my palace. The sanctum beyond Earth. Here, I see everything. Every branch of time. Every universe."
Anna turned slowly, awe curdling into dread. "You… you live here?"
He hesitated, then nodded once. "I am here. Protector of the Multiverse. That is who I've become."
Her chest tightened, her throat closing around unspoken grief. "So all this time, you were hiding this? Hiding you?"
Her voice cracked, sharper now, trembling with betrayal. "How could you ever love me if this was who you were all along?"
The anguish in his eyes was unmasked, raw. "Anna, I did love you. More than you'll ever know." He stepped closer, but the infinite light cast a gulf between them. "But I lost rhythm. I lost mortality. Watching the Ampers die, again and again, broke me. I stopped being the boy you knew years ago—I was forced to become something else."
Anna's tears welled, blurring the constellations around them. She shook her head, unable to breathe in the enormity of his confession.
Grant's tone hardened, weighed with a dreadful certainty. "That's why I brought you here. To show you what's coming." He raised his hand, and the Zenith Watch pulsed, projecting a grim vision into the cosmic air: the Ampers, united, facing a monstrous silhouette that dwarfed them—Gravax, a dimensional horror with claws that shredded reality itself.
"In two months," Grant whispered, his voice hollow, "Veynar and Vorath will lead them into this fight. A trap. And they will all die."
Anna stared at the looming vision, her horror reflected in the shimmering surface of universes.
Grant turned to her, his voice low, almost breaking: "My plan was to change fate. To stop this. To save them."
Anna's voice cut through the cosmic stillness, sharp with an edge of accusation.
"You speak of saving us, of fate and horror, but what about your own anger? Your hatred for Xylo—what are you really hiding?"
Grant's jaw tightened. For a moment he looked away, as if deciding whether to shield her or to wound her. Then he extended his hand, summoning the multiversal globe, a crystal sphere rippling with fragments of truth. Light flickered, warped, and coalesced into a vision: Xylo, laughing softly in a dim-lit corridor—not with Anna, but with Nullis. His hand brushed her cheek, her body leaning into him, a secret closeness that twisted into something undeniable.
Anna staggered back as if struck. The sight pierced through her, tearing down the fragile scaffolding she'd built since Grant's return. "No…" The word slipped out broken. Her knees buckled, tears blurring her sight. "He—he wouldn't…"
Grant's voice was low, steady, merciless. "He did. And it was never just once."
The globe dissolved, and in its wake, Anna's grief ignited into something burning. Grant opened a jagged portal, its rim glowing with furious crimson. "Then see them for yourself."
The portal yawned into a quiet wing of the school, where Xylo and Nullis stood together, mid-conversation. At the intrusion, they froze.
Anna stormed through, her body trembling with fury and heartbreak. "How could you?" she shouted, voice ragged. "All this time—how could you do this to me?"
Xylo's lips parted, scrambling for words, but Anna didn't wait. She lunged, her bare hand striking his chest. Power surged. His icy armor cracked as his cryokinesis drained into her veins. Frost bloomed along her arm, her breath misting the air as his strength became hers. Xylo collapsed, gasping in shock.
"Anna, stop!" Nullis cried, phasing forward to pull her away. But before she could reach him, crimson light flared.
Grant's eyes glowed a furious red. With a flick of his hand, space warped—Nullis froze mid-motion, suspended in place as though the air itself had solidified around her. Her face twisted in panic as she struggled, trapped.
The Protector's wrath bled through him like a storm unchained. "They betrayed you. They would have let you shatter alone. And still you protect them?" His voice was deeper now, almost unearthly. "Why should I let them live?"
Anna tore her hand free of Xylo, her face streaked with tears. She rushed between Grant and the two, her voice breaking under the weight of desperation. "Because this isn't you, Grant! You're not their executioner. You're not a monster."
The fire in his eyes wavered. His breath shook. Slowly—reluctantly—he released his grip on Nullis. She stumbled back, rushing to Xylo's side.
Grant turned away, shame shadowing his expression. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I lost myself. But the truth still stands—I must take this to John. He has to know what's unraveling among us."
Anna grabbed his wrist, her voice raw. "Don't. Please—don't leave me alone in this. Not again."
But the ring flared. The two of them were pulled back into the Watch, stars gleaming coldly around them. Grant steadied himself, ready to speak, ready to act—when a sudden ripple tore through the chamber.
The blonde girl appeared, trembling, her pink-tipped hair shimmering in the light of the Zenith Watch. Her eyes darted around, wide with fear.
"Why—why can I hear you? Why am I here?" Her voice cracked as she clutched her head. "I didn't want this—I don't even know how I got here!"
The vast cosmic gears turned overhead, indifferent to her terror, as Grant and Anna stood frozen in shock.