The Wastelands stretched around the temple's smoking ruins, a barren sprawl of cracked earth and twisted metal under a sky fractured with violet veins. Kael stood, blood crusting his arm, his shard-pistol empty, the absence of the Red Veil shard a hollow ache in his chest. His own shard pulsed faintly, its hum a quiet warning. Rhea leaned against a rusted spire, her thigh bleeding, shock-knife flickering with low charge. Mira knelt in the dust, her fried analyzer useless, her face pale but eyes sharp. The air was heavy with ash and the sharp sting of Aether residue, the storm's echoes fading into a low growl.
Toren approached through the haze, his broad frame scarred but unbroken, shard-rifle slung across his back. His gray hair was matted with blood, one eye clouded from an old wound, but his grin was the same, weathered and defiant. Kael's chest tightened, relief mixing with suspicion. His shard sparked a vision: a bone gate crumbling, Toren standing in flames, a woman's voice whispering, *The cycle tests.* He blinked it away, pain grounding him.
"Toren," Kael said, voice rough. "You've got some explaining to do."
"Later," Toren said, his voice gravelly. He nodded at the horizon, where a violet pulse glowed, the hunter's star-shard cutting through the dust. "We've got company."
Rhea spat blood, her grin weak. "Perfect. Thought we were done with psychos for the day."
Mira stood, brushing dust from her coat. "The hunter's shard is pre-Fall, like the temple's core. They're tied to the cycle. And they're not alone. I felt another signal before my analyzer died."
Kael's shard pulsed, its hum syncing with the distant glow. "Another signal? You sure it's not Harbingers?"
"Not Harbingers," Mira said, her cyber-lenses dim but focused. "Something older. The cycle's waking things we don't understand."
Toren unslung his rifle, its Aether charge humming softly. "Whatever it is, we're sitting ducks here. The temple's gone, but the Wastelands are crawling with Protocol scouts. We need cover."
Kael's eyes flicked to the hunter's glow, now closer, a sleek shadow moving fast. "Cover won't stop that thing. It's after my shard now. Only one left."
Rhea's implants flickered, scanning the ruins. "There's a ravine east, old smuggler hideout. Might have supplies, maybe a signal jammer. If we're lucky."
"Lucky's still not our thing," Kael muttered, holstering his empty pistol. His shoulder screamed, blood seeping through his shirt, but he pushed forward, following Toren's lead. The Wastelands' dust stung his face, each step kicking up clouds that tasted of rust and despair.
The hunter's pulse grew brighter, their skimmer's roar echoing across the dunes. Kael's shard hummed, another vision hitting: *the hunter's star-shard blazing, a new temple rising, the woman's voice: The spark endures.* He stumbled, catching himself on a jagged rock, blood dripping. Rhea grabbed his arm, her grip steady despite her own wounds.
"Keep it together, Varn," she said, her voice low. "We're not losing you to your head."
Toren glanced back, his scarred face unreadable. "What's with the visions, kid? You didn't have them before."
Kael's jaw clenched, pain sharpening his words. "Started when we grabbed the first shard. They're tied to the cycle. And this." He tapped his chest, where his shard pulsed. "You know something, don't you?"
Toren's grin faded, his eyes darkening. "Suspected. Didn't know. Later, Kael. We survive first."
The ravine loomed ahead, a gash in the earth lined with rusted scaffolds and abandoned crates. The smuggler hideout was a squat bunker, its door half-buried in dust. Rhea's implants scanned it, her knife ready. "Clear. For now."
They slipped inside, the bunker's air cool but stale, smelling of oil and forgotten lives. Flickering holo-panels lined the walls, their light casting shadows on scavenged tech and crates of shard-fragments. Kael slumped against a wall, his vision swimming, while Toren checked the door, rifle raised. Rhea rummaged through a crate, pulling out a med-kit and a signal jammer, its circuits humming faintly.
Mira knelt beside Kael, her hands steady as she patched his shoulder with synth-gel. "You're a mess," she said, her voice soft but firm. "The shard's pushing you too hard. It's not just visions. It's changing you."
Kael winced, the gel stinging. "Changing how?"
"Your Aether levels," she said, glancing at his chest. "They're spiking, like the Herald's. The cycle's using you as a conduit."
Toren's voice cut in, low and urgent. "Save the science talk. Hunter's here."
The bunker's holo-panels flickered, the hunter's star-shard glowing outside, its violet light seeping through the door's cracks. Their voice echoed, cold and resonant. "You cannot run, Varn. The cycle demands your spark."
Rhea activated the signal jammer, its hum drowning the bunker's silence. "That'll slow their tech," she said, tossing Kael a scavenged Aether-charge for his pistol. "But not for long."
Kael loaded the charge, his hand shaking but steady enough. "Toren, what happened in Neo-Shanra? Where were you?"
Toren's jaw tightened, his rifle aimed at the door. "Got pinned in the lab fight. Harbingers dragged me to a black-site. Protocol interrogators wanted to know about you, Kael. Your shard. Escaped two days ago, tracked you here."
Kael's shard pulsed, suspicion flaring. "They let you go?"
"Didn't say that," Toren said, his grin returning, sharp and dangerous. "Left a few bodies behind."
Before Kael could press, the door shuddered, Aether energy crackling through its seams. The hunter's star-shard flared, melting metal, and they stepped inside, their black armor gleaming. Their violet eyes locked onto Kael, Aether coiling into a blade. "The spark is mine."
Kael fired, the Aether-shot grazing the hunter's armor, sparking runes. Rhea lunged, her shock-knife slashing, but the hunter's blade parried, sending her sprawling. Toren opened fire, his rifle's Aether-blasts forcing the hunter back, but their star-shard glowed brighter, deflecting shots with a violet barrier.
Mira grabbed a shard-fragment from a crate, its glow unstable. "Kael, use this!" she shouted, tossing it. He caught it, its energy surging through him, amplifying his shard's kinetic power. He unleashed a wave, slamming the hunter into the wall, cracks spiderwebbing the bunker.
The hunter stood, unfazed, their voice chilling. "You delay the cycle. It will not forgive."
Kael's shard burned, a vision overwhelming him: *a new temple, the hunter kneeling, a figure with violet eyes rising, the woman's voice: The spark is lost.* He gasped, the shard-fragment crumbling in his hand. The bunker shook, holo-panels sparking, and a new sound roared outside: a massive Aether surge, not the hunter's, shaking the Wastelands.
Toren's eyes widened, rifle lowering. "That's no storm."
Mira's cyber-lenses flickered, catching a faint signal. "It's the cycle. Something's waking. Another gate."
The hunter's star-shard pulsed, their eyes narrowing. They stepped back, Aether coiling, and vanished into the dust, their voice lingering. "Run, Varn. The cycle hunts."
The bunker's walls cracked, violet light seeping through, and the ground shook, a new gate's hum rising from the Wastelands' depths.