Page 6

VAREK

D ust filled my lungs, thick and acrid, tasting of pulverized stone and decay. I forced down a cough, waving away the worst of the particles dancing in the erratic beams of the emergency lights. The roar of the collapse echoed in my ears, slowly fading into a heavy silence broken only by the drip of unseen water and the settling of smaller rocks.

The human—Rivera—stood across the small, debris-strewn chamber, her back pressed against the wall of the now-deactivated alcove she had foolishly entered. Dust coated her dark hair and salvaged clothing, and she held her burned arm protectively against her chest. Her eyes—that strange amber hue I found unsettlingly expressive—were wide with shock, fixed on the mountain of rubble that now completely blocked the passage I had used to enter this chamber.

"That was..." she swallowed hard, her voice emerging raspy and thin. "That was close."

An understatement. The entire tunnel had given way. I moved toward the rubble pile, ignoring the throbbing pain from the energy burn on my hand and the deeper ache in my lifelines caused by the ruin's instability. I ran my hand along the fallen stone, testing the weight, the interlocking positions of the largest boulders. Moving this would require a full warrior team and likely structural supports we did not possess.

"We're trapped," I stated flatly, turning back to face her. Confirmation was necessary, however grim.

"Yeah, I figured that out." Her typical human sarcasm surfaced even now, a flimsy shield against fear. She pulled out her damaged scanner, tapping at the cracked screen. "Energy readings are stabilizing, at least," she reported, avoiding my gaze. "No immediate danger of another containment failure from the alcove."

The danger now is being buried alive, I thought grimly. I scanned the chamber, assessing our immediate surroundings. The air tasted metallic. Dust hung thick. The emergency lights flickered, threatening to fail entirely. Her presence felt like a physical weight in the confined space, her scent—human sweat, fear, the underlying tang of her markings—sharp in my nostrils.

"Do you realize what you've done?" The question emerged before I could fully restrain it, my voice lower than intended, rough with dust and controlled anger. "The danger you put not only yourself in, but potentially the entire settlement?"

Her jaw tightened, and she pushed away from the wall, meeting my gaze defiantly. "I was trying to understand the source of the tremors," she shot back. "To help ."

"By ignoring every warning sign? By activating ancient, unstable technology you don't understand?" I took a step closer, frustrated by her inability to comprehend the consequences of her impulsive actions.

"I understand more than you think," she retorted, though she didn't back down from my proximity. "My markings react to the energy signatures here. They were guiding me toward the diagnostic panel."

"And they nearly got you killed," I countered flatly. And trapped us both. I turned away from her again, forcing my focus back to survival. Arguing was pointless now. "We have to find another way out."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said," she muttered. Relief warred with annoyance in her tone. She moved to the opposite wall, activating her scanner again, sweeping it across the stone. "There should be maintenance tunnels or emergency exits somewhere. This facility wasn't built without escape routes."

I ignored her scanner, trusting my own senses over damaged human technology. I moved along the eastern wall, placing my palm flat against the cool stone, feeling for subtle temperature variations, listening intently for the sound of moving air or water beyond the rock. My tail remained still, aiding my concentration. Nyxari had survived the Great Division by learning to read the ruins themselves, not by relying on the fallible machines that had caused the catastrophe.

"What are you doing?" she asked, exasperation clear in her voice.

"Finding us a way out," I replied without turning, focusing on a faint coolness radiating from one section of the wall.

"With your ear? Seriously?" She snorted. "I've got energy readings and structural analysis mapping the entire complex right here." She waved her scanner vaguely. "There's a corridor showing active power signatures about thirty meters that way, behind that damaged section."

I continued my assessment, ignoring her commentary. She stumbled again—loud, ungraceful, human. But I found myself listening for it. Not to correct her. To track her. Like some part of me had started needing to know she was close. The coolness persisted here, accompanied by the faintest scent of damp earth carried on a subtle airflow only my senses could detect.

"You're wasting time," she said, moving toward the far corner where her scanner indicated a potential access point behind a buckled wall panel. "My scanner shows a likely passage behind this." She wedged her fingers into a crack, trying to pry the panel loose. It didn't budge. "A little help here would be nice, you know. Since we're trapped together ."

"The structural integrity of that section is compromised." I pointed with my chin toward the hairline cracks spiderwebbing across the ceiling directly above the panel she struggled with. "Your scanner missed that."

She glanced up, her efforts ceasing immediately, then looked quickly back at her device's display. "It's reading as stable."

"Your scanner is wrong." My certainty was absolute, based on the subtle groans I'd heard from that section earlier.

"And your nose is right?" She rolled her eyes, letting go of the panel. "Look, I appreciate the whole primitive warrior survival skills thing, but technology exists for a reason."

"The same technology," I said, turning finally to face her, letting my gaze rest on her defiantly set jaw, "that trapped us here?"

Her mouth opened, then closed. She glanced at her scanner again, then up at the cracked ceiling. A flicker of doubt crossed her features. "Fine," she conceded grudgingly. "Where's your mysterious water source?"

I led her to the eastern wall, placing my palm against the section that felt subtly cooler. "Here."

"There's nothing on the readings?—"

A low rumble interrupted her, the floor vibrating beneath our feet, stronger this time. Dust sifted from above. Her eyes widened as she checked her scanner frantically. "That's not possible. It didn't detect any significant seismic activity."

"Your scanner missed that unstable ceiling, too," I said dryly, turning my attention back to the cool section of wall. "We need to find that water source, that potential exit, before the next tremor brings this whole chamber down on our heads."

"Your 'listening' won't detect the radiation leak my scanner is picking up just beyond that wall!" She pointed to the fluctuating rad levels on the display. "There's an energy spike building in whatever corridor lies beyond."

"Then we go quickly," I replied, dismissing the radiation warning—a potential future threat—as secondary to the immediate structural danger. Survival priorities.

I pressed against the wall section, feeling for weakness. Finding a slight give near the floor, I braced myself and pushed harder, using my shoulder for leverage. The ancient material groaned in protest, then gave way with a scraping sound, revealing a narrow, dark passage beyond.

Cool, damp air rushed out, carrying the scent of wet earth and minerals. I glanced back at Rivera. She stood watching, her expression a mixture of frustration at my methods and reluctant acknowledgment that they had worked.

"After you," she muttered, gesturing toward the opening with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

The passage was narrow, forcing me to turn sideways to fit my broad shoulders through. She followed close behind, her breathing quick and shallow in the confined, dark space. The walls gleamed with moisture, confirming my assessment about water. My lifelines tingled faintly, responding to residual energy in the ancient structure, a low-level hum beneath my skin.

"The radiation levels are increasing," she whispered behind me, her scanner confirming the readings. "We should move faster."

"The ceiling here is unstable," I reminded her without turning back, my voice muffled slightly by the narrow passage. I carefully tested each step before committing my full weight. "Speed will kill us faster than radiation."

"Says the species with natural radiation resistance," she muttered under her breath. "My markings can only protect me so much."

I paused, sensing her anxiety through the faint resonance of the bond between us—an unwelcome awareness. I turned my head slightly. "Your markings protect you from radiation?"

"Among other things," she replied curtly. "And they're telling me we need to move faster." She tried to push past me in the narrow space.

I grabbed her arm instinctively, my grip firm but not painful, pulling her back behind me. "Let me go first."

"Why?" she snapped, yanking her arm free. "Because you're the big strong warrior and I'm just the reckless human who needs protecting?"

"Because," I said, my voice dangerously quiet, meeting her glare in the dimness, "I can survive a cave-in better than you can."

She stared at me, frustration warring with the undeniable logic of my statement. Finally, she nodded once, sharply. "Fine."

I moved ahead again, my senses on high alert, listening for any sounds of structural weakness, the scrape of shifting stone, the whisper of collapsing earth. The passage widened slightly after a few more meters, opening into a small junction where three identical dark corridors met. Water trickled down one wall here, pooling on the uneven floor before disappearing into a crack.

"Which way?" she asked, consulting her scanner again, her tone challenging me to ignore it.

I ignored it. I sniffed the air, turning my head slowly, sampling the currents. Fresher air circulation, carrying the scent of deeper earth, came from the left passage. "This way."

"Scanner says right has the most stable energy readings," she countered automatically.

"And my senses say left has air flow," I replied, already moving down the left corridor, trusting instincts honed over a lifetime.

She sighed dramatically behind me, the sound loud in the confined space. "Fine. Lead on, oh wise one."

We'd taken only three steps down the left corridor when a sharp crack echoed from directly above us. I looked up instinctively to see the ceiling fracturing, jagged lines spreading rapidly like ice breaking, chunks of ancient stone breaking free.

Pure warrior instinct took over. Before conscious thought could form, I lunged for Rivera. One powerful arm wrapped around her waist like a steel band, yanking her hard against my chest as I dove forward, away from the collapsing section. We hit the ground hard, my body instinctively covering hers, shielding her from the impact as debris—dust, pebbles, then fist-sized rocks—crashed down precisely where we had been standing. She was soft beneath me—smaller, breakable. And yet the look in her eyes wasn’t fear. It was trust. Unspoken, raw. And it hit harder than the collapse

The impact drove the breath from my lungs, pain flaring briefly from my still-healing hand burn where it struck the stone floor. I held position, shielding her completely with my body until the last stones fell with heavy thuds around us. Dust filled the air, thick and choking, coating my throat and stinging my eyes.

Beneath me, Rivera lay completely still for a moment, stunned. Then I felt her chest rise and fall against my back, her breath warm and quick against my neck where her head was awkwardly tucked beneath my shoulder.

We froze. Her body was small, fragile beneath mine, yet undeniably solid. The contact was absolute, inescapable. My lifelines flared beneath my skin, a sudden, intense heat responding to her proximity, to the adrenaline, to the danger she had faced. Golden light spilled from them, visible even through my dusty tunic, illuminating the small space around us in an ethereal glow. Her silver markings answered, pulsing in counterpoint, creating a strange resonance that vibrated through my core, a connection that felt deeper, more invasive than before. A flash of shared intent , of synchronized survival instinct, passed between us—stronger and clearer than the raw energy surge when we'd collapsed the field.

Her scent filled my nostrils—ozone from the ruins, her unique human scent overlaid with fear and adrenaline. The markings had changed her, yes, but she remained... human. Vulnerable.

Her heart hammered against my back, matching the rapid pace of my own. I should move. Release her. Re-establish distance, control. But the sensation of her body beneath mine, soft yet resilient, kept me frozen in place for another heartbeat.

"You can," she finally managed, her voice muffled against my tunic, "get off me now." It came out as a shaky whisper.

I pushed myself up slowly onto my arms, still hovering over her protectively. Her face was inches from mine, amber eyes wide, pupils dilated from adrenaline or the dim light. A smudge of dirt streaked across her high cheekbone. An absurd, illogical impulse rose within me—the urge to brush it away.

The moment the thought formed, energy sparked between us—a visible blue-white flicker near her face, accompanied by a sharp tingling sensation that made her gasp and me recoil as if burned. We scrambled apart quickly, ending up several feet from each other, pointedly avoiding eye contact, breathing hard in the dusty darkness.

"Thanks," she muttered finally, sitting up and brushing dust from her clothes, refusing to look at me. "For the save."

I gave a single, sharp nod, not trusting my voice. My lifelines still pulsed erratically, casting shifting golden patterns on the nearby wall, responding to her proximity, to the bond, in ways I couldn't control and didn't understand.

"Looks like your ceiling assessment was right," she said, glancing at the pile of rubble behind us, then quickly back at her scanner, seeking refuge in data. "And my radiation warning was also right. Levels are spiking just ahead."

I rose to my feet, offering her my hand automatically, without conscious thought. She hesitated for only a second, her gaze flicking from my hand to my face, before taking it. I pulled her up easily. Another jolt passed between us as our palms connected, milder this time, but unmistakable. Like touching a charged surface.

She dropped my hand immediately, taking a step back, creating distance. "We should keep moving."

"Agreed." My voice was carefully neutral again, the warrior's mask firmly back in place, hiding the turmoil beneath.

We continued down the corridor, maintaining a careful, deliberate distance. The silence between us had shifted again. Antagonism felt petty now, blunted by shared danger and undeniable reliance.

She hadn't questioned my path this time, and I hadn't dismissed her scanner readings. The ruins hummed around us, ancient and unstable, binding us together with threads of necessity and a connection neither of us wanted but both increasingly felt.