They didn't let him breathe.
The moment the Rift collapsed in Chamber 7-B, rifles snapped up around him. The guards closed in, eyes wide and knuckles white against their triggers. The violet shimmer had vanished, but the air still buzzed with static, the ozone tang thick in his throat.
"Don't move," one barked, voice cracking despite his barked tone.
Elias raised his hands slowly. He was shaking—not from fear, but from the Core's aftershock still humming inside him, like he'd been a lightning rod.
"Stand down," Lyra ordered sharply, her stylus still flicking against her datapad. "He isn't a threat."
"Doctor," the guard said, "with respect—he walked into a restricted chamber, touched a distortion in spacetime, and it disappeared. If that's not a threat, what the hell is?"
No one lowered their weapons. Elias felt the pressure of every muzzle aimed at his chest.
Lyra's jaw tightened. "Commander Holt will want to see him. Escort him there."
The walk through the complex was humiliating. Two guards flanked him with rifles at his ribs, another trailing behind. Passing personnel slowed their stride to watch, some whispering, others outright gawking. To them, he wasn't a savior—he was a freak.
Of course they'd think that. Who else could sense an anomaly no machine detected? Who else could collapse it with his bare hand?
He kept his head forward, masking the churn in his gut. The Core pulsed steadier now, a low thrum that wasn't threatening but almost… reassuring. It was telling him he'd done the right thing. He wasn't so sure.
Commander Holt's office looked like it had been carved out of steel. Bare walls lined with tactical displays. A heavy desk scarred from years of use. A single flag hung neatly folded in a glass case.
And Holt himself—broad shoulders, squared jaw, eyes cold enough to cut glass.
The moment Elias was shoved into the chair across from the desk, Holt dismissed the guards with a flick of his hand. Lyra lingered by the wall, arms folded, datapad tucked tight to her chest.
Holt leaned forward, hands braced on the desk.
"Tell me what the hell just happened," he said.
Elias kept his voice calm. "A Rift began to form. I stopped it."
"Stopped it," Holt repeated, his tone flat. "My sensors tell me it was an energy disturbance in a containment conduit. My chief scientist tells me it was a localized tear in spacetime. And you—an engineer with no clearance, no record, and no proper assignment—walked in and somehow fixed it."
He narrowed his eyes. "So tell me, Kael. How'd you know it was there?"
Elias opened his mouth—then closed it. How could he say, I lived this before?
Instead, he placed a hand on his chest where the Core still pulsed. "I felt it. Something inside me reacts to them. A resonance. I can sense when they're about to destabilize."
Holt leaned back, folding his arms. "Felt it. Like a hunch?"
"More than a hunch."
"That's convenient," Holt muttered.
Lyra broke in. "Commander, the data doesn't lie. His intervention changed the anomaly's trajectory. The Rift should've expanded until the chamber destabilized, but it didn't. He neutralized it."
Elias glanced at her. She wasn't defending him—just the data. But it mattered.
Holt gave her a sharp look. "So you're vouching for him?"
Lyra's lips thinned. "I'm saying what I observed. Without him, we'd be sealing off 7-B in body bags."
Silence stretched.
Finally Holt leaned forward again, eyes fixed on Elias. "I don't like loose ends, Kael. And I don't like unexplained miracles. An engineer with perfect timing and mysterious instincts smells an awful lot like sabotage to me."
The word dropped like a hammer.
Elias clenched his fists. "I'm not your enemy. I'm here because if you don't listen, you'll all be dead when the next Rift comes."
The moment the words left his mouth, Holt's gaze sharpened. He leaned across the desk, voice low.
"Let me make one thing clear. I decide who's the enemy here. And right now, you're standing on the wrong side of trust."
The guards outside shifted audibly at his raised voice. Elias swallowed, holding Holt's gaze.
Lyra's voice cut in, cooler. "Commander, locking him up won't change the fact that anomalies are happening. If he can sense them, we need to study that. It could give us an early-warning system."
"Or," Holt said flatly, "he is the early-warning system—because he's causing them."
Lyra flinched.
Holt sat back in his chair and steepled his hands. "Here's what's going to happen, Kael. You're not leaving this base. From now on, every step you take is monitored. Every conversation recorded. You'll eat when I say, work when I say, and sleep when I say. Consider yourself a subject of observation."
"You can't just lock me up," Elias said.
"I can do whatever keeps this facility secure." Holt's gaze was iron. "And if you really are what you claim… prove it. Until then, you're a liability."
The guards returned at his signal. Elias didn't fight as they took him away.
The holding quarters weren't a cell, but they might as well have been. A cot bolted to the floor. A single chair. A table bolted in place. A red camera light blinking above the door.
Elias sat heavily on the cot, burying his face in his hands.
The Core throbbed inside him, steady as a heartbeat. No words, no visions, just presence. A reminder that the Rift had been real, that it wasn't over.
He muttered, "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
The hiss of the door broke his thoughts.
Lyra slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind her. She didn't look at the camera, but her voice was low. "They won't let me stay long."
Elias raised his head. "Why risk coming here?"
"Because I need to know," she said, clutching her datapad tighter. "When you touched that Rift—what did you see?"
His throat went dry. Memories clawed at him: cities crumbling into violet fire, beasts tearing through screaming crowds, Lyra's face pale and broken in a future that wasn't this one—but could be again.
"You wouldn't believe me," he said softly.
Her eyes didn't waver. "Try me."
He looked at her—really looked. She wasn't just curious anymore. She was scared, desperate to make sense of what she'd witnessed.
"Whatever you saw tonight," Elias said, "it wasn't an accident. It's the beginning. The first crack. And if we don't prepare, those cracks will spread until everything falls apart."
Lyra studied him, lips pressed tight. Then she whispered, "Then make me believe you."
The red camera light blinked steadily overhead. Elias glanced at it, then back at her.
"I will," he promised.
Elias sat back after she left, the silence pressing down like iron walls. He wasn't free, not yet. Holt's suspicion was a cage. But for the first time since arriving here, he had a sliver of what he needed most—someone willing to listen.
He closed his eyes. The Core pulsed within him, patient and steady. The first Rift was only the beginning.
And soon, no cage would be strong enough to hold back what was coming.
Elias stabilizes the Rift but is dragged under suspicion, Holt cages him as a security risk, Lyra secretly reaches out. Stakes rise: Elias must prove himself under surveillance while Rifts escalate.