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And yet, beneath the urgency, there was something else—a flicker of protectiveness that made my chest ache. He wasn’t just shielding me from danger; he was choosing me.

I nodded my understanding, fighting against the pull of the glyphs. Their blue light pulsed more insistently, beckoning.

Offering knowledge, connection, power. But at what cost?

The moment stretched, the cell filled with the blue glow of ancient technology awakening, the silver light of my markings, the gold of Ravik’s lifelines.

Three energies in tenuous, temporary balance. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the phenomenon subsided. The glyphs dimmed gradually, returning to their dormant state. The emergency lighting sputtered back to life, casting everything in its pale blue glow once more.

Ravik released my wrist, sitting back against the wall, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. Whatever he had done had cost him dearly in his already weakened state.

But the gesture had been deliberate, protective even. He had recognized a danger I couldn’t yet comprehend and acted to shield me from it.

“Thank you,” I said softly, rubbing my wrist where his fingers had gripped. The skin there tingled still, my markings retaining a slight warmth where he had touched.

He didn’t respond except to close his eyes briefly, conserving strength. But something fundamental had shifted between us.

A primitive form of communication established. A mutual recognition of shared danger.

And something else, something I was reluctant to examine too closely. The resonance between his lifelines and my markings felt right somehow.

Natural, despite its strangeness. As if it was meant to function this way, two parts of a whole temporarily separated but seeking reunion.

I moved back to my side of the cell, giving him space to recover. Whatever Hammond was planning for tomorrow, for my “turn” with his experiments, it would likely involve this resonance phenomenon.

He had observed something in Ravik’s lifelines that he wanted to test against my markings.

I needed to be ready. Needed to understand what we were facing. And for that, I needed Ravik’s knowledge.

Communication would be our first challenge. Without a translator stone, we were limited to gestures and basic concepts. But the resonance itself might offer a channel, if we could control it, direct it.

The brief connection when he grabbed my wrist had allowed a rudimentary exchange of information, of warning.

Could we expand on that? Develop it into something more structured? The risks were unknown, potentially severe.

But sitting here waiting for Hammond to continue his experiments didn’t seem like a better option.

I watched Ravik as his breathing stabilized, as his lifelines regained a small measure of their natural glow. Whatever his people were, whatever their connection to Arenix’s ancient technology, he understood aspects of it that Hammond could never grasp with his crude experiments.

And that understanding might be our only hope of survival.

The tremors subsided gradually, the ruins settling back into an uneasy equilibrium. But the pattern remained in my mind, persistent.

Three short pulses, one long. Repeated. A warning, a beacon, a call to action. Something awakening after centuries of dormancy.

And we were caught in the middle—human, Nyxari, and whatever ancient power Hammond was foolishly disturbing. Three forces intersecting in ways no one fully understood.

Not even, I suspected, Ravik himself.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new dangers. Hammond’s experiments on me, whatever resonance might occur, the continuing awakening of the ruins.

But for now, at least, we had established the beginnings of understanding. A name. Basic communication. Shared danger.

It wasn’t much. But it was a start.

RAVIK

They came for me again. The human female watched, wide-eyed, as the guards dragged me from the cell. I had no strength left to resist. Four guards, their strange weapons ready—they knew even a weakened Nyxari could be dangerous.