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To one side, a row of ancient machine panels jutted from the wall, their surfaces scratched and corroded. Skye stood behind them, flickering lights casting shadows across his face as he worked. He pried open a compartment, revealing tangled conduits and an array of crystals pulsing faintly.

“I think I found the problem. These energy lines are split,” Skye said. “The resonance is going to be uneven unless we stabilize them.”

“Already on it,” Kato said. He crouched over the base of the riftway. The hatch was thrown open, the innards spilling out.

Pick in hand, he carefully traced the lines of runes etched into the hyaline tuning mechanism, adjusting their angles by fractions of a degree. The glow illuminated his face. Each change sent ripples through the light.

“The imbalance is compensating,” Kato said.

“It’s still bleeding aether on the outer ring. Let me reroute it.” Skye moved to another panel, pulling out a flat-blade tool. With a precise flick of his wrist, he adjusted the alignment of the conduits, the glow of shadow magic surging momentarily as the flow stabilized.

A low thrum built in the chamber, steady and rhythmic, sending faint ripples of light across the rings.

“There we go,” Kato said, grinning. “Baby just needed a little encouragement. I’m going to look at the runic matrix. You keep an eye on the aether flow.”

“Will do.”

Kato crouched back over the hyaline core. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the portal and the occasional scrape of his pick against the crystal.

Then Skye cleared his throat. “So, uh, I’m guessing you’ve probably pissed off a lot of women.”

Kato’s lips thinned. “Weird segway. Also, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m serious. How do you... handle it? Telling a woman something you know she’s not going to want to hear?”

“Depends,” Kato murmured, tapping lightly on the edge of the hyaline. “How mad are we talking? Broken furniture? Crying? Storming off and never speaking to you again?”

Skye didn’t answer right away, his eyes fixed on the monitor and the stream of aether through the system. “More... the last one,” he admitted finally.

Kato snorted. “Let me guess—this is about Taly?”

And then Skye launched into what could only be described as the most absurdly reckless story Kato had ever heard—and that was saying something, given present company.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said when the kid was through.

“You got kidnapped by your future self, agreed to back-alley surgery—and you didn’t tell your girlfriend?

Who, apparently, has future versions of herself that you have to keep happy?

And not in the fun way. More like the, ‘Let’s organize an interdimensional to-do list’ kind of way. ”

Skye nodded as if to say, yeah, that was pretty much the gist .

Kato laughed. Then laughed again. He had to stop what he was doing because precision work and raucous laughter didn’t mix.

“Oh my Shards,” he wheezed, wiping at his eyes. “I can’t even yell at you properly because I’m too impressed by how stupid this is.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think this was a support group?

” Kato re-angled his pick, carving another line.

“I warned you. Bloodcrafting is dangerous. And really, if you think about it, it’s not Taly you should be afraid of.

It’s Mom . Just wait until she hears that I’m no longer the family fuck-up.

I’m sure she’s going to love that,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, Mom’s not here right now,” Skye said, turning a dial and watching the flickering lights steady. “You know who is, though? Taly . And she… well, let’s just say she’s not going to react well.”

“Oh, you don’t need to explain. I get why you lied.”

“I didn’t lie. I just… haven’t told her yet.”

“Right, that’s so different.” Kato glanced up from the open hatch, wiping grease off his fingers.

“So, what’s your plan then? Because I see this ending in two ways: either you tell her yourself or let her find out the hard way.

And believe me, that second option…?” He shuddered, shaking his head.

“It was nice knowing you, little brother. I’ll tell Mom you died bravely. Avoidably, but with courage.”

Skye exhaled sharply. “It’s not like I’m trying to keep secrets from her. I just—need to find the right way to tell her.”

“Oh. Can’t wait to hear this. Do tell —how exactly do you plan to break the news that you permanently screwed yourself?”

Skye ran a hand through his hair, staring at the flickering screen in front of him. “I don’t know. Maybe I could ease her into it. You know, get her comfortable with the idea of bloodcrafting before actually breaking the news.”

Kato raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to ease her into it ? Leave a few bloodcrafting manuals lying around the house? Casually mention it over dinner? ‘Hey, babe, pass the salt, and also, how do you feel about ethically sourced blood rituals? ’”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Skye shot back. The lines of the data on the monitor blurred. A quick tap brought them back into focus. “Just go up and say, Hey, so I turned myself into a monster, and I did it all for you… Because that’s going to go over so well.”

“Hey, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. Bloodcrafting isn’t exactly a love letter, little brother. Then again, maybe Taly would be into it. She seems like she would be a little freaky.”

“Kato, please.”

“What?”

“I’m asking for your advice.”

Kato blinked, nearly dropping the pick between the tuning mechanism and the conduit array.

This… was a first. A monumental, never-seen-before-in-the-history-of-their-dysfunctional-dynamic first.

He wasn’t sure what was more shocking—that Skye trusted him enough to ask or that he might actually try to answer.

“Okay, how about this,” he said, straightening slightly.

“Wait until you’re in the middle of a dangerous situation—it’s Taly, so I’m sure you’ll get your chance soon.

Maybe someone kidnaps her, maybe she just wakes up and chooses violence.

Either way, when things go south, use your bloodcrafting to save the day.

As she’s swooning into your arms, say to her, ‘I didn't want you to find out like this, but now you know. ’”

Skye considered a moment. “That’s… not terrible, actually. Plus, Taly does take bad news better after punching something.”

“Sarah was the same.”

Apparently, the men in their family had a type.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to fire this puppy up,” Kato said, shoving the wires and tubes back into the base and shutting the hatch.

Skye moved to the main control panel, his hand hovering over a flickering glyph. He glanced at Kato, who nodded with barely contained excitement.

Skye’s aether flared and sank into the glyph. The ring twitched with a groan of metal and nothing more. “That was underwhelming.”

“Just give her a moment,” Kato said. “She’s old. She needs to stretch before she starts dancing.”

The rings gave another twitch. Then with a lurch and a screech, they stumbled into motion.

One grinding turn.

Then another.

Gaining speed, they shook off the centuries.

“So far, so good,” Kato crowed.

The machinery hummed. The rings spun faster. Faster. Until they blurred into a single band of light.

A low vibration built in the chamber. Stone rattled loose, crashing to the ground.

It grew louder. Deeper. The vibrations beneath their feet turned into a rumble that could rattle bone.

Then the gauges started jumping. Wild, erratic spikes that made no sense.

“Shit,” Skye cursed. “That doesn’t look—”

A shrill, piercing whine cut through the air, sharp enough to make them both wince.

“Shut it off!” Kato shouted, hands pressed tightly over his ears.

Skye was already moving, yanking levers and slamming buttons on the control panel. But the rings didn’t slow—no, they fought him, their spinning turning jerky and desperate.

“Skye, turn it off!”

“I’m trying!”

And then it happened.

A blinding pulse of light exploded outward. The shockwave hit like a fist. Kato flew backward, slamming hard onto the ground. His tools scattered, skidding into the dark. Skye barely held his footing, gripping the nearest panel as the force ripped through the room.

Then—silence. The machine gave a final, heavy clunk before it died.

“What the hell just happened?” Kato’s voice cracked.

Skye said nothing, eyes wide, his face drained of color.

Kato followed his brother’s gaze. “Holy mother of fuuuck ,” he whispered, trying to process what he was seeing.

The chamber was… gone.

The building around them—gone.

The ruins beyond—gone.

Not destroyed. Not damaged.

Just… gone .

A perfectly spherical absence had opened up around the riftway. No rubble. No debris. It was as though a giant, invisible sphere had simply deleted everything within its radius. Crystalline dust, like the ghost of the vanished matter, coated every surface, catching the faint light and shimmering.

Only the platform remained—the riftway, its console, and them by proximity, all perched atop a cylinder of stone.

Kato staggered to his feet, brushing white powder from his face. It clung to him, fine as ash. “Well, that was… unexpected.”

Above them, the luminara’s light streaked across the night sky, visible through the perfectly circular opening that punched through to the surface. Trees at the edge of the void leaned inward, their roots half-dangling into the emptiness.

“I suppose it’ll be easier to get out than it was to get in,” Skye murmured.

Kato nudged a snarl of cords with his boot, unplugging them from the console and letting the power leach out. “We’re just going to say the hole was already here, right?”

Skye nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”