Rain fell harder that evening, streaking across Voltixol Prime's glass towers. The hum of mag-trams echoed faintly above the streets, their lights smearing into ribbons across the sky.
Kael walked beside Rykas through the narrow causeway linking the lower sectors to the upper ring. The pendant beneath his collar flickered faintly—almost like it was breathing.
"You've been quiet since the Archives," Rykas said.
"That verse wasn't just a story," Kael replied. "It felt… alive. Like it recognized me."
Rykas gave a small grunt. "Or you recognized it."
They turned into a dim café tucked between two AI-run mechanic shops. Steam and oil mingled in the air, with old-world jazz humming from hidden speakers. It was one of the few places in Voltixol where machines didn't outnumber people.
They sat by the window. Kael watched the rain smear the neon lights into colorless streaks.
"You remember that poem?" he asked quietly. "The one about the Vessel."
Rykas leaned back. "Hard to forget. You're the only kid who ever asked what it really meant."
"And she never answered," Kael murmured.
"Maybe she couldn't."
The pendant pulsed once. The air slowed—just slightly. Raindrops outside the window hung mid-fall for the length of a heartbeat before continuing down.
Kael blinked hard, rubbing his temples. "Did you feel that?"
Rykas frowned. "Feel what?"
"Time," Kael whispered. "It just… hesitated."
The pendant dimmed again, its rhythm matching Kael's pulse. Before he could think further, Rykas' wristband buzzed. His expression tightened.
"Surveillance feed—from Eryndor's apartment. Someone was there. Just now."
Kael straightened. "Show me."
A blurred figure moved through the dim apartment, scanning walls, touching the same shelf where Kael had found Eryndor's pendant fragment.
"That's no thief," Kael said. "He's searching."
Rykas stood. "Then we're going back."
By the time they reached the apartment, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets glistening under cold light. The door hung half-open.
Kael drew a quiet breath; faint sparks danced around his fingertips. Rykas entered first, blades ready.
Inside, the air was still. Papers scattered across the floor, walls etched with glowing runes—the same script from the Archive.
Kael brushed a line with his hand; the symbols shimmered, rearranging themselves into legible words.
"The shadow moves first. The vessel must not waver."
Before Kael could react, the pendant blazed orange. The entire room pulsed—
and the world bent.
Kael staggered back as reality rippled. For a heartbeat, he saw Eryndor standing in the same room, alive, eyes full of urgency.
"Kael… if you find this… don't trust the Verse. It's not what you think."
The image broke apart like shattered glass. Silence followed.
Rykas caught Kael's arm. "What happened?"
Kael's breathing was uneven.
"He was here. Just now. I saw him. Not a recording—something else. Like the room remembered him."
Rykas looked around cautiously. "You're saying time—"
"—folded," Kael said quietly. "Like it wanted me to see."
The pendant dimmed to stillness. Outside, thunder rolled far above the towers.
Kael stared at the fading runes on the wall.
"The shadow moves first," he whispered.
Rykas sheathed his blade. "Then we move faster."
They stepped into the wet streets once more, unaware that far above, in Voltixol's mirrored spires, unseen eyes were watching.
And somewhere in the dark—
Eryndor Vale opened his eyes.