They stopped by the ridge just before sunset, making camp at the foot of a narrow rise that looked down over the Eastern Divide. The Divide itself stretched like a wound across the land—jagged and burned, filled with static that danced in the air like invisible sparks. Jason parked the hover transport behind a rock formation, half-shielding it from any eyes above.
Everyone moved with silent tension.
Kieran did a perimeter sweep. Jason set up ground sensors. Nyx unpacked the shard—the one she had retrieved from the Remnant's body—and laid it carefully on a flat surface. But it didn't hum until Lana stepped near.
"It's resonating," Nyx said quietly. "Only with you."
Lana looked down at the faintly glowing shard. "What is it?"
"Not a weapon. Not exactly." Nyx motioned for her to come closer. "It's a shard of Veliora. One of the fragments. Left behind by the Remnant, but not for them. For you."
"So this is her?" Lana asked. "Part of her?"
"Yes," Nyx said. "One of the earliest pieces. These aren't tools—they're trials. Memory splinters she left in the world for the one who would come after."
Lana knelt, hesitant. The shard pulsed brighter.
Kieran came to her side and rested a hand on her back. "I'm here."
Lana looked at Nyx. "How do I activate it?"
"You already are," Nyx said. "It's responding to your blood. Your signal. I'm not activating it—I'm just decoding the interface so it doesn't overload you."
Lana took a breath. Then touched the shard.
Light exploded around her, and she was pulled into a vision that didn't feel like a dream. It was too clear. Too sharp.
She stood on a tower made of glass and bone, wind howling around her. Two women faced each other. Both wore Queen regalia. One knelt in defeat, her face bloodied. The other stood tall, crown cracked, face unreadable.
"You could have saved them," the crowned woman said. "But you hesitated."
The kneeling woman collapsed. Behind her, the world burned.
The vision shifted again. Veliora now stood alone, her face young, her eyes hollow. She turned to Lana—no longer part of the memory but now directly present.
"If you hesitate," Veliora said, "the world burns slower. But it still burns."
Lana gasped as she returned, stumbling back. Kieran caught her before she hit the ground, arms tightening around her waist.
Jason rushed forward, but stopped short when he saw her eyes glowing faintly. "What did you see?"
She pressed her hand to her chest. "I saw a choice. And a cost."
Nyx knelt near them, watching Lana carefully. "That shard was a memory. But it's more than that. It was a test. To see what kind of Queen you might become."
Jason shook his head. "Why would the world burn at all? Can't it survive without shifters, hybrids, or whatever freak show the Queen built?"
Nyx's voice turned sharp. "No, it can't. Because the world you know isn't natural anymore. It hasn't been for centuries."
She stood, gesturing out toward the Divide. "The Queen wasn't just a ruler. She was the stabilizer. Her signal kept wild magic, rogue tech, and mutated bloodlines from collapsing into chaos. When she fell, that balance cracked. Slowly. But it cracked."
Lana looked at Jason. "It's not about needing werewolves or hybrids. It's about needing order. Not laws—natural order. The kind that stops the sky from splitting when a shifter panics in a city. The kind that keeps mutation from turning into plague. Without her, those things rise. Not all at once. But bit by bit, until the world's screaming and no one remembers what quiet was."
Jason fell silent.
Kieran helped Lana sit back against a rock wall. He stayed close, his hand warm over hers. "You're still human enough to feel fear," he said. "That's good. It means you haven't lost yourself."
"I don't want to be Veliora," she said.
"Then don't," Kieran said gently. "You're not here to replace her. You're here to finish what she couldn't."
Lana rested her head against his chest. "You're not scared of me?"
"I'm scared for you," he said. "But I'll stay. Even if you grow claws. Even if you glow. I'm yours, Lana. Not because of the crown. In spite of it."
She closed her eyes, letting that warmth settle her.
Far away, beneath the frozen crust of an abandoned satellite site, an ancient chamber vibrated. Crystal husks shattered. A single shard pulsed red.
It opened.
An eye flickered—half-organic, half-code.
This Queen fragment—this shard of Veliora—had been asleep for decades. But now, it stirred. Not out of instinct.
Out of recognition.
Lana's signal had reached it.
The pulse from her blood, now active, had become a beacon.
The shard breathed—not as an enemy. Not as a friend. As something curious.
It whispered softly:
"The Crownless walks. All others must kneel or burn."
Elsewhere, other fragments began to flicker. Stir. One flared cold blue. Another seethed black.
They had heard her.
And they would not all agree.