I met her by a freak chance.
The cave was almost forgotten, hidden behind a scar of jagged stone. The Flo in Limbo was so dense it conjured a heavy fog that clung to everything it touched. I should have turned away, but curiosity has always been my best and worst trait.
I'd been wandering for what felt like weeks—or was it months?—documenting this place, not even scratching the surface of its secrets. It was a good thing I didn't need to eat; I'd finished my supplies days ago and felt no hunger. I still had energy. I didn't even need to sleep. I theorized it was this place. What a world.
The area was full of monsters—Arcbornes who would wail and claw at their own heads. Some smashed their faces into the stone; others, unable to bear the torment, simply ripped themselves apart.
Looking back, I was thankful for my Synch equipment. I remembered entering Limbo, the intensity of the Flo hitting me like a physical blow. The frequencies screamed so loud I nearly blacked out, my fingers fumbling to dial down my headphones just in time. Without them, I would've been like them: a mindless zombie in constant agony. Or worse, dead.
I'd named the area the Crimson Mistlands.
I walked for miles, following a hairline crack in the ground, praying it would lead to water. Though I didn't need food, thirst was a constant, grinding companion. Running low, I had no choice but to pack up and move on, carefully avoiding the monsters. I'd seen what happened when they accidentally touched each other. I had no desire to become the target of their pain.
It wasn't until what felt like days later that I found myself at the edge of a gorge. Below, a shallow shore was swallowed by mist, the water stretching into a featureless horizon. Relaxing wasn't an option. The drop was sixty feet—impossible for a non-Synch, but usually nothing for us. The problem was my frequency output was dialed so low that increasing it was too dangerous.
It was a gamble, but I had no choice. I looked up, noticing the pack of giant birds circling in the red sky. Suddenly, jumping didn't seem like such a bad idea.
"Just a leap of faith," I muttered.
For three heartbeats, I fell in silence. Then, just before impact, I gritted my teeth and channeled Flo around my body. I didn't account for the raw energy in Limbo, supercharging my efforts.
With a CRACK, I hit the shallow riverbed. The force sent water exploding outward. If anyone was around, they might have sworn they saw a superhero. Too bad pain immediately radiated from every joint. Lying there, gasping, I was surprised by how fun it was. A laugh bubbled out of me—at my stupid choices, at this whole insane situation. Maybe I was going insane.
I got up, about to check the water, when a breeze brushed my neck. Something felt off.
I turned around.
And I saw it.
Her cave.
Again, I should have turned away. But something—an unnatural calm amidst the chaos—drew me in. I could feel it, a stillness so profound it raised goosebumps on my arms. I had to know what it was. Curse my stupid curiosity.
Stepping into the cave, the wind howled as if trying to escape. The air reeked of sulfur and decay, but I trudged on. The deeper I went, the darker the world outside became, until it was practically night, replaced by the cool illumination of faint blue patterns on the walls. They glowed with a soft, hypnotic light. I couldn't tell if it was ancient writing or mere scribbles, but I documented them anyway, just as I had documented everything on my journey. It was a hopeless habit, but it kept me hopeful.
It was while studying the patterns that my eyes drifted to her.
A woman knelt beside a stone slab like a graceful statue, a vision of contradictions. Her face was youthful, her skin pale and flawless as polished marble, yet she radiated an aura of something ancient, creepy, and profoundly lonely. A pitch-black veil covered her eyes. Her frail, skinny arms that rested on her lap were bound not by rope, but by wriggling, liquid tendrils that pulsed with a dark light. She wore a simple, tattered grey dress.
Everything about her screamed danger.
My first instinct was to rush to her, yelling, Are you okay? But I was drowning in fear and caution. Thoughts danced. Why was she here? What had she done to deserve this? How long had she been like this?
Before I could plan my next move, she noticed me.
She couldn't see, but her head slowly turned toward the entrance as if she'd felt a shift in the air. A chorus of whispers filled the space, escaping from her—yet her chapped lips never moved.
I concluded she was a prisoner. Every survival instinct told me to run, but two things rooted me to the spot: my curiosity, and the sheer terror of what might be waiting outside, especially after the noise I'd made.
Weighing my options, I did what any sane person would do after finding a random, tied-up person in a random cave in a godforsaken realm.
I approached her.
Looking at her closely, from an artistic perspective, she was a masterpiece. From the way she knelt to the aura she gave off, she looked like a piece of artwork. I couldn't help myself; I took a picture. I set aside my giant, trusty rucksack and searched for my remaining water container, almost forgetting the reason I'd journeyed here in the first place.
"Here," I muttered, carefully pressing the mouth of the bottle to her lips.
It startled her fiercely. She jerked back, spilling precious drops onto the cave floor. Under other circumstances, I would've been annoyed, but watching her recoil like that… it was almost cute?
"You're thirsty, aren't you?" I chimed.
She hesitated, which I didn't blame her for. If I were stuck in a place, blindfolded for who knows how long, and a random voice asked if I was thirsty, I'd be hesitant, too. Tilting her head back, she began to drink. Despite her fragile appearance, she gulped the water down. It must have been satisfying; each swallow echoed in the cavern. I grew worried the noise would draw something toward us, and in my absent-mindedness, she grabbed my arm.
I yelped, trying to pull free, but it was no use. She was impossibly strong. It was humiliating. She took her time, finishing with a deep sigh.
"I… give thee… thanks." she whispered slowly, gravely, as if relearning how to speak. "What name bears the man who hath aided me…?"
The way she talked gave me a headache. I gave her my name.
She tilted her head. "What an unusual name… What brings thee to this forsaken place?"
Was she serious? Trying to have a conversation as if this were normal? It began to click in my head why people say curiosity killed the cat. I explained how I was stranded after opening a rift, not knowing it would lead me here.
She paused before replying. "Thou art a Synchrite… art thou not?"
My heart skipped a beat. Synchrite? The term was so outdated, no one had used it to refer to Synchs in centuries. I became increasingly nervous. I told her I was. I'd always hated the connotations the name came with—the discrimination, the fear, the admiration, the projection. I wanted to escape it all.
"Should be no great burden… to depart as thou arrived, no?"
She was right. Though I had the ability to travel through rifts, I'd used a device that mimicked my power—a handy tool crafted by my closest friend. It had broken as soon as I arrived after encountering an Arcborne. As I was now, my frequency output was too low to create rifts, and I couldn't risk increasing it. If she could sense my Flo signature, to her I must have looked like a speck of dust… something that shouldn't have been able to get here. I told her about the device, and she fell quiet again.
"How long hath passed...since the third generation of Synchrites...?"
That was around the time of Lucius the Praised. A bad feeling settled in my gut as I did the math. "That was around four hundred years ago," I replied.
Silence.
Then the air shifted. A gradual rumble built into a tremor that shook the entire realm. The cave vibrated. From the distance came howls of pain, so loud and tormented they sent shivers down my spine. My eyes darted from the entrance back to her. She was shaking uncontrollably, her head lowered, saying nothing.
I moved to see what was wrong.
I never reached her. An invisible force slammed into my chest, hurling me backward. I crashed into the cave wall, my head smacking stone. My vision went dark.
I dreamt of my wife.
I dreamt of her smile and her smell. I was by her side, cuddled up against her as she showed me her love. I remembered how her face was twisted with worry as I told her about my adventure. I had put on a brave, confident exterior as she held our son in her arms. My selfishness was the reason I was in this place. I would give anything to see them again.
As I pulled my finger from my newborn son's grasp, the dream faded.
I woke up dazed. Pain flooded my skull as I scanned my surroundings, temporarily forgetting where I was. My eyes found the lady in the middle of the cave, now sitting on the stone slab, staring at a small opening in the ceiling—just large enough for a single beam of light to enter. I couldn't remember if that had always been there.
She slowly turned her attention to me. It was then I noticed my own eyes were puffy.
"Thou art awake..." she said, her voice flowing through me like soft knives—enchanting, yet sure of itself. "I didst begin to believe thou wert dead..."
Scratching my head and wiping my eyes, I got up, muttering, "Miss me already?"
Nothing. Then I noticed the corner of her mouth twitch. If I had been talking to myself in my sleep, she kept it to herself. A silence stretched between us before she broke it.
"Something… weighs upon thy spirit, aye?"
She was right. I sat down in front of her and studied her. She was ancient. She seemed peaceful and mannered, yet she was a prisoner in an unknown realm. She had a connection to the third generation of synchs, yet there was no record of anyone like her. But the most unsettling thing, the thought that truly crawled under my skin was that every single creature i had encountered in the Crimson Mistlands couldn't handle the frequencies, yet there she was. Seemingly undisturbed by it.
Regaining my thoughts, I asked the question that had been burning in me since the moment I saw her.
"Who… are you?"