Page 22

T he silence after the metal device crashed to the floor was heavy, ringing, thick with the smell of ozone and vaporized metal.

Smoke curled from the machine's shattered casing.

We stood frozen for several heartbeats, chests heaving, the adrenaline slowly receding, leaving behind a residue of fear and grim determination.

Nirako nudged the inert drone with his boot, then spat on the stone floor. "Ancestors' refuse," he muttered, retrieving his spear shaft, the broken bone tip rendering it nearly useless.

Pravoka reloaded her projectile weapon, her face impassive, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her tension. Her gaze flicked towards Jen, lingered with something like grudging respect, then returned to scanning the shadowy corridor.

My attention fixed on the central passage ahead. The ominous red glow pulsed from its depths, and the discordant hum intensified, vibrating unpleasantly through my lifelines. The core. The source of the imbalance.

"That path leads to the core," Jen confirmed, her voice slightly breathless but steady. She had recovered quickly, her analytical mind already processing. I sensed her focus sharpen, overriding the lingering fear. "The energy signature is... immense. Unstable."

"Are you certain you are unharmed?" I asked, turning to her, needing reassurance.

The drone had targeted her specifically.

Seeing that energy beam vaporize the panel where she had stood moments before had sent a shard of ice through my veins.

The memory of her warmth against me the night before warred violently with the image of her being struck by that lethal force.

My protective instincts had surged into something fierce, almost uncontrollable.

"I'm fine," she assured me, meeting my gaze directly. I felt the truth of it, though I also sensed the residual adrenaline, the slight tremor she couldn't completely hide. "Just... reminded of the stakes."

"Indeed." I turned back to the central corridor. "Nirako, Pravoka, stay alert. Jen, stay directly behind me. We proceed with extreme caution."

Taking the lead again, I stepped into the central passage.

The change was immediate. The temperature rose sharply, the air growing thick and heavy, making it harder to breathe.

The walls radiated heat. The low hum intensified into a palpable vibration that resonated through the floor, up my legs, settling deep in my chest, making my lifelines thrum unpleasantly.

This corridor was clearly a primary artery of the ancient facility.

Massive pipes and energy conduits, thick as ancient tree trunks, lined the walls and ceiling.

Some were dark and inert, coated in centuries of dust. Others glowed with internal light—a steady, healthy blue-green in some sections, indicating normal function, but more often flickering erratically or pulsing with the dangerous red-orange hue that screamed overload and imminent failure.

The floor beneath our feet was constructed from translucent crystalline material, revealing complex circuitry beneath, much of it dark, but some still carrying faint pulses of energy like dying nerve pathways.

Signs of decay and violent failure were everywhere.

Fallen panels littered the floor. Conduits sparked, dripping corrosive fluid that hissed and steamed where it contacted moisture, eating into the stone itself.

Sections of the floor had buckled upwards, forced by pressure from below or seismic shifts.

Strange crystalline fungi erupted from damaged machinery, pulsing with faint, unhealthy light in shades of sickly green and purple.

The sheer scale of the construction felt alien, oppressive, a testament to the immense power—and arrogance—that had built this place before its catastrophic failure.

"The whispers," Jen murmured from behind me, her voice tight. "They're stronger here. Louder."

I strained my senses, but heard only the hum of machinery, the drip of water, the hiss of escaping gas. "What do they say?" I asked.

"Still fragmented," she replied, her concentration palpable. "Not words, exactly. More like... echoes of intent. Anger. Pain. Confusion. Desperation. It feels like the machine itself is... screaming."

Her description resonated with the wrongness I felt through my lifelines, the sense of ancient agony embedded in the very stone. This place was haunted, not by spirits, but by the ghost of its own catastrophic failure.

"Focus on my presence," I instructed, pushing a wave of calm certainty towards her. "Use it as an anchor against the noise." I felt her latch onto it, her energy steadying slightly.

We navigated carefully around a section where the floor had collapsed into darkness below, forcing us onto a narrow ledge along the wall.

I tested each handhold, ensuring stability before guiding Jen across.

Her hand felt small but steady in mine as I helped her over the worst section.

The brief contact sent a surge of awareness through me, a reminder of the intimacy we now shared, strangely grounding even in this technological nightmare.

Further down the corridor, we encountered another hazard.

"Energy arc ahead!" Jen warned suddenly, pulling me back just as I was about to step forward. "Between those two damaged conduits!"

I looked where she indicated. Two massive conduits on opposite walls sparked erratically, the air between them shimmering with intense heat and contained energy.

As we watched, a blinding arc of raw power leaped between them, bathing the corridor in searing white light.

The discharge lasted only a second, but the heat washed over us even from a distance, and the smell of ozone was sharp and acrid.

"Another feedback loop," Jen analyzed, her voice tight. "Uncontrolled energy discharge. It seems cyclical."

"Can you predict the timing?" I asked, assessing the gap. We needed to pass that point to continue.

She closed her eyes, concentrating, her markings pulsing faintly. "The energy builds... then discharges. The cycle is irregular, but... yes. There's a brief window after each discharge. Maybe five seconds."

"Five seconds," Nirako muttered behind us. "Barely enough time."

"It will have to be," I stated. "We move immediately after the next discharge. Nirako, you follow me. Jen, stay tight behind Nirako. Pravoka, cover our rear and follow last. Move fast, do not hesitate."

We waited, muscles tense, watching the sparking conduits. The energy built visibly, the air crackling. Then, another blinding arc leaped across the corridor.

"Now!" I commanded, sprinting forward the instant the discharge faded.

We moved as one, adrenaline lending speed to our movements. We dashed across the danger zone, the heat still radiating from the stone, the smell of ozone thick in the air. Just as Pravoka cleared the area, another arc erupted behind us, striking the spot where we had been standing moments before.

We paused further down the corridor, catching our breath.

"Too close," Pravoka grunted, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Jen's senses saved us again," Nirako acknowledged, looking at her with open respect now.

Jen simply nodded, her focus already shifting ahead, scanning for the next danger. Her resilience continued to astound me.

The corridor finally opened into a large chamber, different from the others.

This felt less like a functional part of the facility and more like a dedicated control room.

Consoles lined the walls, their surfaces dark save for one, larger than the others, which flickered with faint, scrolling symbols.

Crystalline panels embedded in the walls displayed complex, shifting patterns of light—blues, greens, reds—that seemed to respond to the facility's overall energy state, a visual representation of the chaos.

And in the center of the room, embedded in the floor beneath a protective, transparent dome—now cracked and clouded with age and grime—was a flat, crystalline display panel.

It glowed with a faint internal light, ancient Nyxari symbols scrolling slowly across its surface like a forgotten language whispering secrets.

"A control terminal," Jen breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. "It's still active."

We approached cautiously, weapons ready, scanning the shadowed corners of the chamber.

Nirako and Pravoka took up defensive positions near the entrance, their gazes sweeping the room for any sign of automated defenses or hidden threats.

The air around the terminal hummed with concentrated energy, stronger than the ambient dissonance of the corridors.

"Can you interpret it?" I asked Jen, keeping my voice low.

She moved closer, studying the flowing symbols without touching the surface. Her markings pulsed gently, resonating with the terminal's energy.

"It's... a system status display," she confirmed after a moment.

"Similar to what I accessed before, but more detailed.

Showing real-time diagnostics... Most systems are critical.

Multiple containment failures... power fluctuations off the scale.

.." Her brow furrowed. "It's also showing network status.

Trying to connect to other nodes... receiving no response. "

"Confirming the network failure," I murmured.

"Is it safe to interact with?" I asked again, my protective instincts warring with the need for information. Watching her interface with the Harmony Circle had been one thing; this felt infinitely more dangerous, closer to the core's instability.