Page 13

SELENE

K avan's hand shaking my shoulder tore me from sleep, the rough pressure instantly conveying urgency. ", wake now !" His voice was tight, stripped of its usual calm resonance—a tone I hadn't heard before.

Even as my eyes snapped open, disoriented in the profound darkness of the cave, before I could ask why, the ground shuddered beneath us. It wasn't the distant rumble of the storms but a deep, visceral groan that seemed to come from the planet's core. Dust sifted from the overhang above, raining down onto my hair and shoulders.

"The first major tremor of the season," Kavan said, already pulling me upright as another, sharper jolt slammed through the rock, cracking the stone floor near my feet. "The shelter is no longer stable."

The rock shelf we had rested on gave way with a deafening roar. Boulders peeled away from the ceiling, crashing down where we had lain moments before, sending shockwaves through the narrow space. The air filled with choking dust, visibility dropping to zero even for my newly enhanced vision.

Instinct took over. I grabbed Kavan’s arm, relying on our connection to navigate the chaos. "The way we came in?" I coughed, eyes stinging.

"Blocked," he confirmed, his voice tight with effort as he guided me away from the immediate collapse. "The main passage gave way entirely."

We stumbled back against the far wall of the small cave, the structure groaning around us. More rocks tumbled down, smaller now, but the threat of a complete cave-in felt terrifyingly real. The tremor subsided slightly, leaving a ringing silence broken only by the trickle of the healing spring, now partially obscured by fallen stone.

"Is there another way out?" I asked, scanning the darkness. My markings pulsed faintly, outlining the small space, but showing no obvious exit other than the now-impassable entrance.

Kavan moved along the back wall, his hand trailing across the stone, his lifelines glowing faintly as he assessed the structure. "The tremors… they may have revealed something." He stopped, his fingers tracing patterns I couldn't discern in the dim light. "Here. The rock feels different. Less solid."

I joined him, placing my own hand near his. He was right. Beneath the surface dust, the stone vibrated faintly, and a cooler draft touched my skin. My markings flared slightly in response, a subtle pull toward this section of the wall.

"Can we break through?"

"Perhaps we don't need to." Kavan pressed firmly against a section of the rock. With a grating sound of stone on stone, a narrow vertical fissure cracked open—not from the tremor, but as if following a hidden seam. It widened, revealing a passage leading deeper into the mountain, blacker than the cave itself. Faint, geometric patterns, almost invisible with age, were carved into the rock around the opening.

"Ancient markings," Kavan breathed, recognizing them instantly. "Similar to those in the facility archives, but cruder. Older." He traced one symbol. "Guidance glyphs. Often used to mark passages to sacred or important sites."

"Sacred?" I peered into the oppressive darkness. "Or just deeper?" The air emanating from the passage felt stale, unused for centuries.

Another tremor shook the cave, weaker this time, but loosening more debris from the ceiling. The choice was made for us. "Staying here isn't an option," I said.

"Agreed." Kavan retrieved his healer's pouch and the small pack containing our minimal supplies, including the data crystal I'd salvaged. "This passage is our only path forward. Stay close."

He reactivated a piece of bioluminescent fungus, its cool blue-green light pushing back the absolute darkness within the fissure. The passage was narrow, forcing us single file, and sloped downwards at a gentle angle. The air grew stiller, heavier, the silence profound after the roar of the cave-in.

We moved cautiously, the fungal light casting long, dancing shadows. The floor was uneven, littered with smaller stones and centuries of dust. My markings pulsed steadily now, a low-level thrum that seemed to resonate with the ancient carvings that appeared intermittently on the walls.

"These glyphs," Kavan murmured, pausing to examine a complex pattern. "They speak of 'listening to the stone' and 'following the deep pulse'."

"More warnings?"

"More like... instructions for navigating by senses other than sight," he clarified. "These tunnels were likely used by healers attuned to Arenix's energies."

"Like your lifelines," I said, remembering how he'd sensed the thermal instability earlier. I focused, trying to feel what he felt through our connection – the subtle vibrations in the rock, the minute shifts in temperature and pressure. It was there, a complex tapestry of sensory data just beneath the surface of my awareness, made accessible only through the bridge the markings created between us.

We proceeded deeper, the passage twisting unexpectedly. Several times, we reached junctions where the carvings seemed deliberately ambiguous. Kavan would pause, closing his eyes, his hand pressed flat against the wall, lifelines glowing. Then, guided by the subtle feedback only he could fully interpret, he would choose a path. I learned to trust his stillness, the deep concentration that settled over him in those moments.

My own role became hazard detection. My markings would flare sharply near unstable sections of the ceiling or thin patches in the floor, giving us precious warning to find an alternate route or tread with extreme caution. We moved as a unit, his deep senses guiding our direction, mine alerting us to immediate dangers, our non-verbal communication flowing seamlessly through the bond.

The air grew warmer, the humidity increasing. The passage began to slope downwards more steeply. The fungal light reflected off damp walls, and the sound of dripping water echoed from ahead.

"We're descending again," I noted. "Toward the water table?"

"Possibly," Kavan agreed. "These networks often intersect with subterranean rivers."

Suddenly, the floor beneath my feet shifted. Not a tremor this time, but a crumbling sensation. "Kavan!"

He reacted instantly, grabbing my arm and pulling me back just as the section of floor I'd been standing on dropped away into blackness with a cascade of rock and dust. We stood frozen on the precipice, peering down into an abyss the fungal light couldn't fully penetrate.

"Structural failure," Kavan assessed, his voice grim. "Time and seismic stress have weakened these lower levels." He scanned the area. "We cannot go back the way we came; the passage behind us looks equally unstable."

Our only option was across the newly formed gap. It wasn't wide—perhaps three meters—but the darkness below was absolute.

"Can you make the jump?" I asked, knowing his strength and agility far exceeded mine.

"Alone, yes. Together..." He looked at me, then back at the gap. "The landing on the other side appears narrow and potentially slick."

I followed his gaze. The passage continued beyond the gap, but the ledge looked precarious. "What choice do we have?"

"None," he conceded. He moved to the edge, testing the crumbling lip. "This will require precise timing. As before, feel my movement through our connection. Leap when I leap."

He secured his grip on my arm, positioning us side-by-side at the edge. I focused, tuning into the hum of our bond, feeling the coiled tension in his muscles, the infinitesimal shift as he gathered himself.

Now.

The impulse came through the connection, a silent command. We launched ourselves across the gap together.

For a heart-stopping moment, we were suspended over the abyss. Then our feet hit the far ledge. Kavan absorbed most of the impact, stumbling but keeping us both upright. The rock beneath us held.

We didn't pause, immediately moving deeper into the passage, away from the unstable gap. The air here felt different—still ancient and heavy, but with an underlying resonance, a faint thrum of dormant energy that made my markings tingle persistently.

The passage widened abruptly, opening into a vast chamber. The transition was startling. We stepped from the narrow, crumbling tunnel into a space constructed of unfamiliar, smooth, metallic material. Geometric patterns, similar yet more complex than the glyphs in the passage, covered the walls and floor, emitting a faint luminescence of their own.

"Kavan," I whispered, stunned. "What is this place?"

He stood beside me, equally awestruck, his fungal light source paling in comparison to the chamber's own soft glow. Water dripped from the high ceiling, echoing strangely off the metallic surfaces, forming shallow pools on the floor. We seemed to be in some kind of artificial structure, buried deep beneath the surface.

"This is..." Kavan slowly turned, taking in the scale of the chamber. His lifelines pulsed, reacting to the ambient energy. "This is not a natural formation. It is ancient. Nyxari, but... different. Pre-Division."

He moved forward, touching a wall panel tentatively. Unlike the weathered stone of the passage, this material felt cool and impossibly smooth beneath his fingertips. The geometric patterns etched into it pulsed faintly where he touched. "I've seen images of such places in the elders' records, legendary facilities sealed away after the war. I never expected to encounter one."

I looked down at my arm. The silver markings beneath my skin pulsed in perfect synchronization with the patterns on the walls, creating a dizzying sense of connection, of belonging. "The patterns," I said, my voice hushed. "They match my markings exactly."

Kavan nodded slowly, his golden eyes sweeping the chamber, moving from the intricate walls to the strange, silent equipment half-hidden in alcoves. Much of it showed signs of damage – panels were dark or flickered weakly, crystalline structures were cracked, and water damage had corroded surfaces. Yet, the underlying complexity, the sheer alien sophistication of the design, was breathtaking. "A satellite facility, perhaps," he murmured. "For research... or healing."

My gaze was drawn deeper into the chamber, following an insistent pull from my markings. They brightened as I walked toward a recessed area along the far wall, ignoring the puddles splashing around my boots. "There's something here," I called back to Kavan, the energy intensifying as I approached. "My markings are reacting strongly."

He joined me, holding the glowing fungus higher. In the alcove stood a pedestal made of the same luminous material as the walls. Atop it rested a formation of interlocking geometric crystals, perfectly intact, untouched by the decay affecting the rest of the chamber. It glowed with a soft, inviting interior light.

"A memory crystal," Kavan identified it immediately, reverence deepening his voice. "A repository of knowledge. The elders possess a few fragments, but functioning ones like this... they were thought lost forever."

My hand moved toward it, seemingly of its own volition. The markings on my wrist and palm flared brilliantly, painful and exhilarating all at once. The crystal pulsed in response, its internal light brightening, swirling.

"Should I touch it?" I asked, the question feeling distant, my focus narrowing entirely onto the object before me.

Kavan hesitated, his healer's caution warring with the awe of this discovery. "It responds to you. In ancient times, only those bearing compatible markings could access such crystals." He paused, his gaze flicking towards the high, unseen ceiling far above, perhaps estimating how deep underground we truly were. "But the knowledge it contains... the effect it might have... it is unknown."

A loud drip echoed nearby, water splashing onto the metallic floor. A reminder that while this place felt timeless, our situation was precarious. We were trapped, deep within the unstable heart of Arenix, in a place built by ancestors whose knowledge might save us, or shatter us entirely. The crystal pulsed again, waiting.