Kael did not sleep.
He lay on his back in the narrow guest quarters assigned to him by the Council, staring at the ceiling while the city's artificial daylight dimmed to its regulated night-cycle. Soft golden light pulsed through the crystal veins embedded in the walls—steady, controlled, obedient.
Nothing like the relic.
It sat on the table beside his bed, wrapped in cloth, humming faintly like a living thing pretending to be still.
Kael closed his eyes.
The hologram's voice echoed behind them.
You weren't born. You were replicated.
His chest tightened.
He turned onto his side, facing the table, and stared at the wrapped shape until his eyes burned. Every instinct told him to leave it alone. To hand it over. To pretend he'd never seen it.
But the other instinct—the one that had kept him alive during the collapse—would not shut up.
Return to the Veins.
He exhaled slowly and sat up.
The room was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that existed only in places where decisions were made for you.
Kael stood, pulled on his coat, and wrapped the relic carefully, almost gently, before tucking it inside the inner pocket. The moment it rested against his chest, the hum sharpened—more alert than before.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I hear you."
He didn't bother with armor. No insignia. No symbols. Just dark clothing and an old utility blade he trusted more than any ceremonial weapon.
At the door, his hand hesitated on the latch.
Once he stepped outside, there would be no pretending this was a misunderstanding.
He opened it anyway.
---
The Sunbound Capital looked different at night.
Without the crowds, without the banners and cheering, it felt hollow—like a city that had dressed itself up for a performance and was now exhausted from pretending.
Kael moved through side corridors and service bridges, keeping his head down. He knew the patrol routes. He'd memorized them long before he became a "hero."
Guards nodded as he passed, some stiffening in surprise, others smiling.
None stopped him.
That made his stomach turn.
He wasn't slipping past security.
They were letting him go.
At the edge of the upper districts, General Samira waited.
She stood beside a transport skimmer, arms crossed, posture rigid, the glow of the city reflecting faintly off her armor.
Kael stopped short.
"I thought you said not to do this alone," he said quietly.
Samira didn't turn right away. When she did, her expression was tired—older than he'd ever seen it.
"I said not to tell anyone," she replied. "There's a difference."
Kael frowned. "You're coming with me?"
"No." Her jaw tightened. "I'm making sure you don't walk straight into an execution."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"The Council issued an order an hour ago. You're confined to the Capital. No independent movements. No relic access. No Vein proximity."
Kael felt the weight of it settle over him.
"So that's it," he said. "They're afraid."
"They're cautious," Samira corrected. "Which means they're already planning how to control this."
Kael met her gaze. "And you?"
Samira hesitated.
Then she reached into her cloak and pressed a small data-chip into his palm.
"Access codes," she said. "Old ones. They'll get you into the East Vein trench without tripping alarms."
Kael stared at it. "You're helping me disobey direct orders."
"I'm helping you survive," she said flatly. "Because whatever that relic is… the Council doesn't want answers. They want leverage."
Kael swallowed.
"Why help me?" he asked.
Samira's eyes softened, just a little.
"Because heroes don't usually look like you did on that stage," she said. "And because if the world really is about to break again—"
She stepped back.
"—I'd rather the truth be holding the knife."
She turned and walked away before he could respond.
Kael watched her go, the data-chip warm in his hand.
Then he turned toward the transport line.
---
The ride toward the East Trench took him beneath the city.
The lights grew dimmer. The architecture changed—less polished crystal, more raw metal and reinforced stone. Old infrastructure. Forgotten pathways.
The Veins were closer here.
He could feel it.
Pressure built behind his eyes. A low vibration thrummed through the soles of his boots, matching the relic's pulse until he couldn't tell which was which.
He disembarked near a sealed service platform and moved on foot from there, following maintenance signs no one had updated in decades.
The trench opened ahead of him like a wound in the earth.
Massive. Silent. Forbidden.
Vein conduits ran along its walls, glowing faint blue beneath layers of reinforced shielding. The air was colder here, sharper, tinged with metal and ozone.
Kael stopped at the edge.
"This is a terrible idea," he murmured.
The relic pulsed once, firmly.
He took that as an answer.
Using Samira's codes, he bypassed the first barrier. Then the second. The alarms flickered—hesitated—then went dark.
The Veins recognized him.
That terrified him more than any guard ever could.
As he stepped deeper into the trench, the ground trembled faintly beneath his feet. Light rippled along the conduits like a shiver running through a spine.
"Okay," Kael whispered. "I'm here."
The relic burned hot against his chest.
Then—
Movement.
A shadow shifted ahead, deeper within the access corridor. Not mechanical. Not a projection.
A person.
Kael froze, heart slamming into his ribs.
He drew his blade just as a figure stumbled into the light—cloak torn, breathing ragged, eyes wide with fear and fury.
She raised her weapon at the same time he did.
For a heartbeat, they stood like that, mirrors of panic and readiness.
Then the Veins flared.
Blue light surged through the corridor, violent and sudden, knocking them both off their feet.
Kael hit the ground hard, vision exploding into white.
Somewhere nearby, the girl cried out in pain.
And as the light peaked, the Veins did something they hadn't done in two hundred years.
They responded to both of them.