The engine of the Council Enforcer ship roared overhead, a mechanical predator scouring the junkyard with searchlights that sliced through the plum-colored haze. Elara pressed her back against a rusted turbine, her breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches.
Inside her satchel, the heart pulsed against her ribs like a second, more confident heartbeat.
"Status: Environment unstable. Host heart rate elevated by 22%," the voice vibrated in her skull. It wasn't a sound, but a direct injection of thought—cool, clinical, and hauntingly clear.
"Be quiet," Elara hissed, pulling her cloak tighter. "You're going to get us recycled."
The light of the Enforcer ship swept just inches from her boots, illuminating the oily puddles and twisted metal. After a tense eternity, the hum faded, moving toward the Northern Wastes. Elara didn't wait. She scrambled out from her hiding spot, weaving through the labyrinth of scrap until she reached her sanctuary: an abandoned subterranean vault she called home.
Once inside, she bolted the heavy iron door and collapsed onto a workbench cluttered with half-repaired mana-meters and soldering iron. She reached into her bag and pulled out the artifact.
The silver liquid inside the obsidian cage was swirling now, forming complex geometric patterns that defied gravity.
"Who are you?" Elara demanded, grabbing a magnifying lens to inspect the etched runes on the obsidian.
The heart flared a deep, royal violet.
"Identity Profile: Archmage Valerius. Primary Function: Core Stability Maintenance. Current State: Fragmented. Memory Latency: 98.4%."
Elara dropped her lens. It clattered across the stone floor. "Valerius? The First Architect? He's been dead for three centuries. He's a myth told to apprentices to make them study their sub-routines."
"Incorrect," the voice replied, a hint of what sounded like dry wit entering the digital tone. "I am not a myth. I am the backup drive. And currently, Eldoria is experiencing a fatal system error."
A holographic projection flickered to life above the heart. It showed the floating cities of Eldoria, but they weren't glowing with their usual gold. They were flickering, turning a jagged, pixelated grey.
"The Static," Elara whispered. She had seen it in the Lowlands—patches of reality that simply... unraveled. "People say it's just bad weather."
"The Static is a deletion process," Valerius countered. "The planetary OS is failing, Elara. Without the Silicon Heart returned to the Core, the 'bad weather' will eventually erase everything. Including you."
A sudden, violent bang echoed against the vault door. The metal groaned, denting inward. A red laser dot danced across Elara's workbench.
"Open in the name of the High Council!" a voice boomed from the other side. "Surrender the Unsanctioned Logic at once!"
Elara looked at the heart, then at her only exit a narrow ventilation shaft leading to the surface.