Chapter 15 – The Pulse Beneath the Skin
Dawn broke like a wound across the horizon—slow, bleeding, and far too quiet.
The city's towers shimmered in the pale light, their neon veins dulled by a lingering mist.
Liora stood on the Academy's rooftop, the cold wind clawing at her cloak as if to strip away the night's secrets.
In her palm, the shard from the Spiral pulsed faintly, beating in perfect rhythm with the mark beneath her collarbone.
It was more than a hum.
It was a conversation.
Every vibration carried meaning she could almost, almost understand—
like a language just beyond the reach of memory.
The shard whispered of storms yet to come.
Of doors that were not meant to stay closed.
Of a future that had once devoured her whole.
She clenched her fist until the cold edge bit into her skin.
This was why she had come back.
To break the pattern.
To outpace the Rift's hunger.
Not to let it seduce her all over again.
---
The rooftop door groaned open behind her.
"Figured I'd find you brooding up here," Aron said, stepping into the wind.
His hair was a riot of wind-tossed curls, his grin a shade too casual to be real.
He was holding two steaming cups of synth-coffee, one of which he extended toward her.
"Thought you might need caffeine before we inevitably ruin our lives together."
Liora accepted the cup with a faint, tired smile.
"You followed me last night."
"Of course I did," Aron said easily, leaning against the railing.
"You think I'm going to let you meet a masked death-cult alone? Please.
Besides…" His eyes flicked to the shard. "…someone has to keep track of your growing collection of cursed objects."
"It's not cursed," Liora said, though her voice lacked conviction.
"It's… information."
Aron raised a brow. "Information that glows, hums, and matches the freaky tattoo under your skin?
Yeah, that sounds totally safe."
Despite herself, Liora's lips twitched.
Aron had a way of cutting through the terror with reckless levity, like a spark in a storm.
But beneath the banter, his eyes held a sharpness she couldn't ignore.
"You're worried," she said quietly.
"Of course I'm worried," he shot back.
"You nearly died in a Rift breach, you're carrying around alien tech, and you're getting midnight texts from people who speak in prophecies.
But mostly…" His voice softened. "…I'm worried because you're not letting me in."
The words landed with a weight she wasn't ready to bear.
Because he was right.
Because in her first life, letting people in had cost her everything.
"I can't," she said, softer still.
"It's not about trust. It's about survival."
Aron studied her for a long moment, then sighed and took a sip of his coffee.
"Fine. Don't tell me. Just… don't disappear on me, Kane.
If the world's ending again, I'd rather face it with someone who knows how to swear properly."
A reluctant smile ghosted across her lips.
"I'll keep that in mind."
---
The Academy's alarms shattered the morning calm.
A piercing wail cut through the wind, followed by a staccato burst of Authority directives:
> Containment Breach Detected. Sector Delta-7.
All personnel report to lockdown zones immediately.
Aron's grin vanished.
"Delta-7? That's the subterranean lab."
The very lab where the Rift fragment had been housed.
Liora's heart kicked hard against her ribs.
She didn't need to check the shard to know—it was already vibrating, frantic and alive.
"Stay here," she ordered, already moving toward the door.
"Not a chance," Aron snapped, falling into step beside her.
"Whatever this is, it's not a solo mission."
They raced through the Academy's corridors, the alarms a heartbeat of mechanical panic.
Cadets scattered around them, faces pale and wide-eyed.
Authority guards sealed blast doors behind each wave of evacuees, but Liora slipped through every barrier with an uncanny instinct, her mark guiding her like a compass.
The deeper they went, the stronger the shard's pulse became.
It wasn't just reacting—it was leading.
---
Sector Delta-7 was chaos.
The lab's reinforced doors were warped outward as though something inside had tried to claw its way free.
Steam hissed from ruptured conduits, filling the corridor with a bitter, metallic fog.
Security drones sparked and sputtered, their circuits fried by an invisible surge.
Commander Seryn stood at the threshold, flanked by a squad of Authority soldiers.
Her silver eyes cut through the smoke like blades.
"Kane," she barked.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Sector breach," Liora said, breathless but steady.
"I was closest."
Seryn's gaze swept over her, sharp and assessing.
Then her eyes dropped to Liora's fist—
to the faint violet glow leaking from between her fingers.
"What is that?" Seryn demanded.
Liora tightened her grip on the shard, heart hammering.
"Containment stabilizer," she lied smoothly.
"Picked it up during last night's cleanup. I thought it might help."
Seryn's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering like lightning.
But before she could press further, a roar erupted from behind the warped doors—
a sound not of machine or man, but of something other.
The Rift fragment had awakened.
---
The soldiers raised their weapons.
The doors shuddered violently, metal screaming against metal.
Then, with a deafening crack, the barrier split wide.
Light spilled into the corridor—violet and silver, writhing like liquid lightning.
It wasn't just illumination; it was a force, a hunger, a call.
The shard in Liora's hand blazed to life.
The mark beneath her skin ignited, matching its rhythm beat for beat.
Her breath caught as the Rift's energy surged toward her, a living tide that recognized its own.
Aron grabbed her arm.
"Liora—don't—"
But it was already too late.
The Rift's call wrapped around her like a lover's embrace.
A voice—soft, endless, and impossibly ancient—whispered through her mind.
Daughter of the Spiral. The door is ready.
Images flooded her vision:
a sky torn open by violet storms,
cities swallowed by rivers of light,
a shadowed figure standing at the heart of it all—
her shadow.
She staggered, choking on the weight of the revelation.
This wasn't just another breach.
It was a threshold.
The first step toward the apocalypse she had come back to prevent.
And somehow, impossibly…
it was waiting for her to open it.
---
"Contain it!" Seryn barked, Authority soldiers surging forward with containment rifles.
But their weapons fizzed uselessly in the Rift's glow, the energy bending around their blasts as though mocking them.
Liora's shard vibrated harder, a frantic plea.
Her tether screamed for release.
She could feel the Rift—its heartbeat, its hunger, its desperate invitation.
Aron's grip tightened on her arm.
"Whatever you're about to do, Kane, make sure it's something you can live with."
The mark seared hotter, as if laughing.
Live with, it seemed to echo.
Or live through?
The choice she had come back to make was here, now, roaring in violet fire.
Liora took a step forward, eyes locked on the writhing breach.
Every instinct screamed to run.
Every memory of the world's end begged her to fight.
And yet… the Rift's call was beautiful.
---
Far above, the Academy's alarm cut off mid-wail.
The silence that followed was not peace.
It was anticipation.
The Spiral had given her the key.
The Rift had opened the door.
And Liora Kane stood on the threshold of destiny,
one heartbeat away from stepping through.