The chamber breathed.
That was the first thing Zariah noticed the subtle rise and fall of the walls, as though the room itself were alive, synchronized with her pulse. Each inhale tightened the glass. Each exhale softened it, fogging briefly before clearing again.
Viktor stood unmoving across from her, hands loose at his sides, posture relaxed in the way only someone utterly certain of control could manage.
Behind him, the silhouettes shifted.
Not walking. Not floating.
Observing.
Zariah swallowed. The pressure in her chest wasn't pain it was containment. Like the universe had wrapped its hands around her ribs and whispered, stay where you are.
"You didn't just cross a channel," she said, forcing steadiness into her voice. "You violated a boundary you can't undo."
Viktor tilted his head slightly, studying her the way one studies a successful experiment. "I followed an invitation."
"I didn't invite you."
"You opened," he corrected softly. "And I stepped through. That's how thresholds work."
Her jaw clenched. "You hijacked a system older than you."
"Older than us," he agreed. "But not older than ambition."
The silhouettes behind him shifted again. For a moment, Zariah thought she heard whispers not voices, not language, but intent. Curiosity. Calculation. Assessment.
They were watching Viktor too.
That unsettled her more than his presence.
Adrian's voice brushed the edges of her awareness again, faint but urgent. Zariah, your vitals just spiked. Whatever you're seeing it's pulling you deeper.
"I know," she whispered back.
Viktor smiled. "Talking to your anchor?"
Her eyes snapped back to him. "Stay out of that."
"Oh, I couldn't if I wanted to." His gaze sharpened. "You've woven him into your stabilization pattern. Clever. Risky. Intimate."
Her hands curled into fists. "You don't get to analyze him."
"But I do," Viktor said calmly. "Because he's the weakest point in your architecture."
The chamber responded to her surge of anger glass walls flaring briefly with light before dimming again. The silhouettes leaned closer.
They felt it.
Adrian's presence wavered.
Zariah sucked in a breath. "Stop pushing."
Viktor took a single step forward. The air between them thickened, vibrating with restrained power. "I'm not pushing. I'm observing how much strain it takes before you fracture."
Her heart thundered. "You always did love breaking things to see what they were made of."
"And you," he replied, eyes gleaming, "always surprised me by surviving."
He stopped just short of her reach. Too close.
"I didn't survive because of you," she said.
"No," Viktor agreed softly. "You survived in spite of me. That's why you're extraordinary."
The silhouettes stirred again, sharper now. Interest spiked.
Zariah felt it a subtle pull, as though invisible hands were reaching toward her consciousness, testing her edges.
"They're evaluating us," she realized aloud.
"Yes," Viktor said. "They always do."
Her stomach twisted. "You knew they were watching."
"I suspected," he said. "But now I know."
His gaze flicked briefly to the shifting forms behind him. "And they know me."
A dangerous satisfaction threaded his voice.
Adrian's voice broke through more clearly this time, strained. Zariah, something's wrong. The facility's readings are going off-scale. If he stabilizes himself there
"He won't," she said quickly.
Viktor's smile widened. "You're assuming that's your choice."
Pain flared suddenly sharp, searing behind her eyes. Zariah gasped, staggering slightly as the chamber pulsed in response.
"Zariah!" Adrian shouted, his voice echoing painfully through her mind.
She dropped to one knee, clutching her head as the silhouettes surged forward, their forms blurring as they pressed closer to the glass.
"They're… they're amplifying him," she gasped. "Using my channel."
Viktor crouched in front of her, unhurried. "No. They're amplifying you. I'm simply… benefiting."
Her vision swam. "You planned this."
"I planned possibility," he replied. "You supplied the execution."
She glared up at him, fury burning through the pain. "You're a parasite."
"And you," he said gently, "are a gateway."
The words hit harder than any physical blow.
Adrian's presence flickered violently like a signal fighting static.
Zariah, he said, voice breaking. I can't hold you if he keeps destabilizing the link.
Panic flared in her chest. "No stay with me. Don't let go."
Viktor straightened, watching with clinical interest. "Fascinating. You tethered yourself to a human constant. Emotional anchoring. Primitive but effective."
"Shut up," she snapped.
"But fragile," he continued. "Because if he falters "
The chamber lurched.
Zariah screamed as white-hot agony tore through her spine, ripping the breath from her lungs. She collapsed fully now, palms pressed against the cold floor as her body convulsed.
"Zariah!" Adrian roared.
She felt him felt him stumble, as if her pain were dragging him down with her.
"No," she sobbed. "Don't take him. Take me."
Viktor's eyes flickered not with remorse, but calculation. "You'd sacrifice him to preserve the system."
"I'd sacrifice anything to keep him safe," she snarled.
That did it.
The silhouettes surged violently, their interest flaring into something sharper something almost predatory. The glass walls glowed blindingly bright.
Viktor froze.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.
"They're responding to intent," Zariah realized, breath hitching. "Not power. Choice."
The pain receded just enough for her to push herself upright.
Viktor straightened slowly. "Careful. You don't understand the rules yet."
"No," she said hoarsely. "But I understand them."
She lifted her head, meeting the shifting mass of silhouettes with unflinching resolve. "You're watching because you want to know if we're worth preserving."
The chamber stilled.
Even Viktor didn't speak.
Zariah forced herself to her feet, every muscle screaming. "He wants to be indispensable to you," she said, gesturing sharply at Viktor. "He wants to insert himself as a necessary variable."
Viktor's eyes hardened. "You're oversimplifying."
"And you're underestimating them," she shot back.
She took a shaky breath, feeling Adrian's presence stabilize slightly just enough.
"I'm not offering dominance," she said to the watchers. "I'm offering resistance. Choice. A system that evolves without erasing what makes us human."
The silhouettes rippled.
Viktor laughed softly, though tension edged his voice. "You think they care about sentiment?"
"No," Zariah said. "They care about outcomes."
She turned to him fully now. "And you are an outcome they won't be able to control."
Silence crashed down.
The silhouettes recoiled just a fraction but it was enough.
Viktor's smile finally cracked. "You're trying to turn them against me."
"I'm letting them see you clearly."
The chamber shook violently.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the glass walls not breaking, but thinning.
Adrian's voice surged, stronger now. Zariah whatever you did, it worked. I can feel you again.
Relief flooded her chest.
Viktor staggered half a step, eyes narrowing. "You're destabilizing the interface."
"You destabilized yourself," she said. "You crossed a line without permission."
He recovered quickly, posture smoothing once more. "This isn't over."
"No," Zariah agreed softly. "It's just begun."
The silhouettes pulled back suddenly, retreating into the walls as the chamber's light dimmed.
The floor beneath them split with a low, resonant crack.
Adrian shouted her name.
Viktor backed away, his form beginning to distort at the edges. "You've made yourself visible to far worse than me."
"Good," Zariah said, voice shaking but steady. "I'm done hiding."
The chamber began to collapse inward not violently, but decisively, as though the system itself had made a choice.
Viktor's image fractured, his voice echoing unnaturally as he faded. "You'll regret this. They will come for you."
Zariah reached for Adrian, clinging to his presence as the world dissolved around her.
"I know," she whispered.
The last thing she saw before everything went dark was the silhouettes no longer watching passively.
They were turning.
Toward her.