The rain had softened by dawn, leaving the city washed in silver. Voltixol Prime hummed quietly again — transport rails sliding through mist, neon lights dimmed to soft blue as the storm faded. But the world still felt charged, as if the lightning hadn't quite left.
Kael hadn't slept.
He sat by the narrow window of his flat, the pendant resting on the table before him. Every few seconds, it gave off the faintest hum — not sound, more like a pulse brushing the edges of his mind. Each beat seemed to sync with his heartbeat, then fall out of rhythm again, like it was… testing him.
Across the room, Rykas stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes half-closed but alert. He had the kind of stillness only trained protectors carried — quiet, unshakable, and watchful.
"You've been staring at that thing all night," Rykas said, his voice low. "It gonna talk back, or what?"
Kael glanced up, half-smiling. "Maybe it already has."
Rykas raised an eyebrow. "And what did it say?"
"Something about… finding a verse," Kael said softly. "It's strange — when I touched it, I saw fragments. Places I don't remember. People I've never met."
Rykas pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You sure it wasn't just the shock? You almost fried yourself back there."
Kael shook his head. "No. It wasn't pain. It was… connection. Like the pendant recognized me."
Silence stretched between them, heavy but calm. Outside, the morning light spilled through the haze, catching tiny motes of dust that floated like sparks.
Finally, Rykas sighed. "Eryndor's not the kind to get himself taken. If he left that pendant, it means he wanted you to find it. Maybe it's a clue."
"Then we start where his trail ends," Kael said, slipping the pendant around his neck. The metal felt cold at first — then warm, pulsing faintly against his skin.
He grabbed his coat, and they stepped into the streets once more.
District 7 – The Memory Vaults
District 7 was quieter than most. The storm had cut power to half its network, and the few people on the streets moved quickly, avoiding the drone patrols scanning for illegal tech.
Eryndor's old lab was buried beneath the lower platform — accessible only through a code Kael still remembered from years ago. The air smelled of rust and static. Lights flickered weakly as the door slid open.
Inside, dust covered everything. The air shimmered faintly — particles of raw energy suspended in time, frozen mid-motion like glittering sand.
"He was experimenting with time resonance," Kael murmured, studying the faint trails. "Chrono-field remnants… still active."
Rykas crouched beside a shattered console. "You think that's what caused the blackout?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he brushed a layer of dust from a central device — a round platform with rings of etched symbols. The pendant around his neck vibrated once, resonating with the structure.
"It's reacting again," Rykas said, stepping back instinctively.
The lights dimmed. A low hum rippled through the air. Kael's breath caught as the rings began to spin — slow at first, then faster, until the air itself bent around them.
Then — silence.
A holographic shimmer rose from the center of the platform.
Eryndor's image appeared — faint, half-transparent, voice glitching through distortion.
"If you're seeing this… it means the Verse has awakened."
"Kael, listen to me carefully. The Oils weren't just energy. They were memory — time condensed into form. Each holds a fragment of what came before the fall. But someone is trying to rewrite it."
"Find the others before they find you—"
The recording cut off. A sharp burst of light followed — and then the voice twisted into something else, darker, deeper.
"You shouldn't have touched it, Kael."
The hologram flickered. Eryndor's face distorted, replaced by a shifting mask of shadow — eyes glowing faintly red, like embers in fog.
Kael's hand tightened on the pendant as the energy around them surged. The floor cracked, lightning veins spreading from his feet. The pendant burned hot against his chest, light spilling out through his shirt.
Rykas shouted his name — but the sound warped, echoing backward, then forward again, like time itself was stuttering.
Then everything went white.
Elsewhere
Kael stood in a field of still air — colorless, soundless. The ground beneath him was glass, stretching endlessly. Above, fragments of moments floated — scenes from different times looping faintly, fading in and out. A child running through rain. A tower falling. A city burning under a golden sky.
And there — in the distance — stood the same cloaked figure from the rooftop.
Kael tried to move, but his legs felt heavy, like the air resisted him.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The figure tilted its head, the horns faintly visible beneath the hood.
"Not your enemy," it said — the voice calm, layered, echoing across time. "Not yet."
Kael clenched his fists, the pendant glowing brighter. "Then what do you want from me?"
The figure's answer was almost a whisper.
"To see if you're worthy of what you carry."
Lightning cracked — but this time, it came from Kael.
The world around him fractured, shattering like glass. He fell through light and sound — back into reality.
Kael gasped awake on the lab floor. Rykas was beside him, kneeling, his expression tight but steady.
"You vanished for a second," Rykas said quietly. "Then the whole place lit up. What did you see?"
Kael looked at his hands — faint arcs of orange electricity danced across his skin before fading.
"A warning," he said softly. "And… a promise."
Rykas helped him up. "You sure you're alright?"
Kael nodded, though he didn't feel alright at all. The pendant lay still against his chest, cold now — but he could still feel its pulse somewhere beneath his skin.
He looked toward the horizon — the storm clouds gathering again beyond the city spires.
"It's starting," Kael murmured. "Whatever this is… it's already begun."
Rykas simply nodded — silent as always, but ready.
And as the two stepped out of the ruined vault, neither noticed the faint distortion left behind — a ripple in time, replaying their last few seconds again and again…
like the world itself was watching.