The first lesson Brael taught them wasn't about fire. It wasn't about defense or magic or surviving the coming echoes.
It was about silence.
Not the absence of sound—but the shape of what filled it.
In the mornings, they trained in stillness. Riley stood barefoot in the ashen sand outside the outpost, eyes closed, flame wrapped gently around her like mist. Not burning. Just breathing.
"Fire isn't just destruction," Brael said, walking slow circles around her. "It's memory. It remembers the shape of what it devours. What you burned yesterday still lives inside your flame."
She inhaled. Felt it—distant images flickering beneath her skin: the lab, the chamber, the ruined door, Daphne's hand in hers. Each spark remembered.
Daphne watched from the shadows, her own recovery slower. Her mind raced ahead, already sketching plans and code, trying to build a map of what might come through Echo Gate next.
They'd broken the rules.
Now the consequences were waking up.
By day six, the outpost's defenses flickered violently.
Riley stood beneath the signal tower while Daphne rewired the pulse network. Lightning from her palm occasionally surged down the cables. Controlled. Precise.
"You're adapting too fast," Daphne muttered, eyes on the data feed.
"Is that bad?"
"It's not natural. Even with the serum, fire doesn't evolve this quickly."
"Maybe it's not just the serum. Maybe it's the Link."
They both paused.
Riley could feel the truth in that.
The bond between them pulsed more frequently now. Sometimes silent. Sometimes vivid. They didn't need to speak aloud anymore. Daphne would reach for a tool, and Riley would already be handing it to her. Thoughts overlapped. Emotions drifted and echoed.
"You've always had control," Daphne whispered.
"Not always. I just hid how out of control I was."
She looked up. "But now I don't want control. I want direction."
That night, the sky cracked.
They all felt it.
Brael was the first to his feet, eyes scanning the horizon from the lookout tower. Daphne and Riley joined him seconds later. The stars above were warping—twisting like reflections on water.
A single vertical line of light split the darkness.
The gate was calling.
But not open.
Just listening.
Riley pressed her palm to her chest. The flame inside her flickered, not outward—but inward.
She saw a tower.
Burned.
Falling.
A child screaming—not her—but like her.
"What was that?" she asked.
"An echo," Brael said quietly. "Someone else who's tied to the fire. Someone from before."
Daphne's face went pale. "It's the original wave. The first Chosen Kaelira took. They're not dead."
Riley turned. "They're trapped."
That revelation rewrote everything.
Their mission wasn't just to survive the coming storm.
It was to rescue the ones lost to it.
Riley's training intensified. Brael called the new method "mirror fire." A way of turning your enemy's energy against them—not through violence, but reflection. Absorb. Redirect. Transform.
Daphne developed a pulse-tethered gauntlet that stabilized their Link across long distances. They tested it daily, venturing into sandstorms and broken cities to refine the range. Each step drew them closer to the Divide.
Each night, Riley dreamed of the tower again.
The screams grew louder.
On the fourteenth day, they received a message.
Not through standard comms.
Through the fire.
A symbol scorched itself onto the outpost wall. A brand in gold.
An ancient sigil.
Daphne decoded it in seconds.
"It's an invitation," she whispered.
"To where?"
"To the Emberwake Convergence."
Riley looked at her. "I thought we were the only ones."
Daphne shook her head slowly.
"No. We're the first. But not the last."
The chapter closed as they stood at the edge of a long-forgotten rail line, backpacks strapped, weapons holstered, flames whispering beneath their skin.
Brael stepped back. "I'll cover your exit."
"You're not coming?" Riley asked.
"Not yet. My time will come."
Daphne reached for his hand, squeezed it. No words.
And then she turned to Riley.
"Let's find the others."
And together, they stepped onto the path of fire.
Toward whatever burned beyond the gate.