Page 26

AVA

T he first step inside feels like stepping between worlds.

The jungle vanishes behind me—its humidity, its chaos, its living noise. Inside the Precursor temple, the air is dry and still. Not sterile. Not dead. Just… waiting.

My boots tap softly on smooth, stone-like flooring—too perfect to be natural. The walls curve inward, etched in complex spirals and interlocking angular shapes. Glyphs—hundreds of them—are carved into the surface, glowing faintly, like bioluminescent veins beneath skin.

I breathe in sharply, heart pounding. This is what I trained for. What I dreamed of finding.

I touch the wall. The surface is cool but vibrates gently beneath my fingertips, like touching the hum of a power conduit. Energy. Ancient. Unfathomable. Still alive.

“Can you feel it?” Kairon stands just behind me, his voice low and rough like gravel.

“Yeah,” I manage to say, barely keeping my awe in check as I trace a glyph with my finger. It pulses with warmth at my touch.

He steps closer, peering at the intricate designs as if they might reveal some hidden secret. “It’s like a heartbeat.”

Ahead, a massive archway opens up into another chamber, shrouded in shadow but alive with possibilities—an altar stands at its center, pulsing with light that feels like it calls to me personally.

My heart races; every part of me yearns to reach out—to uncover whatever truth lies beyond its gleaming surface.

“This could be it,” I whisper, almost reverently.

I look over my shoulder at Kairon, my eyes narrowing slightly as I take in his stance.

He’s behind me, watching. Silent. Tense.

But it’s not the usual tension I’ve come to expect from him.

It’s not the sharp edge of suspicion or the heavy weight of annoyance or the commanding air of dominance that usually surrounds him like an impenetrable shield.

His gaze lingers on me in a way that’s… softer.

Focused. He’s seeing me now—not just assessing me as a potential threat or a tool for his mission.

There’s an intensity in his eyes that feels different, almost tender.

When I tripped earlier over a piece of rubble, his grip had been steady but not rough.

Careful. He held me like I was breakable—not weak, but precious.

His massive hand had closed around my arm with a gentleness that belied his otherwise formidable presence, and for a moment, I felt a strange warmth bloom in my chest.

He doesn’t say what’s changed. But I feel it.

It’s in the way he no longer strides ahead, keeping himself just out of reach, a constant reminder of the distance between us.

It’s in the way he stays close now, matching his steps to mine—not as a guard or captor, but as something else.

Something unspoken. The silence between us is no longer filled with the tension of unasked questions or the weight of past actions.

Instead, it feels like a shared understanding, a mutual respect that’s grown in the shadow of this ancient place.

The jungle heat and the ruins around us seem to fade into the background as I focus on him. Kairon Vesh, the infamous Reaper, standing beside me with an expression that’s almost… protective. It’s a side of him I never expected to see, a vulnerability that mirrors my own.

I beckon him closer, my finger curling in the air. He doesn’t hesitate. He steps beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth, the weight of his presence anchoring me. The proximity is comforting in a way I can’t quite explain, like a silent promise of support.

We move deeper into the ruin, stepping over cracked tiles and twisted remains of metal that once connected vast machines.

In a side corridor, I pause at a cluster of glyphs etched into the wall.

My fingers trace them. Fragments of patterns spring to life under my touch—warning motifs used in other Precursor sites. Each glyph whispers secrets of power and consequence:

“Power requires price.”

“Unity or ruin.”

“Choice becomes fate.”

My brow furrows as I absorb the weight of those phrases, each one resonating with an eerie familiarity that unsettles me. These warnings seem personal—like echoes from my own life woven into this ancient fabric.

I beckon Kairon over, my finger curling in the air. He doesn’t hesitate. He steps beside me. The weight of his presence anchors me as I point to the glyphs, trying to piece together what this place might mean.

“Look at this one,” I murmur, tracing a pattern with my fingertip. “It warns about the consequences of misuse. Power requires a price.” My voice is low, almost reverent.

Kairon glances at the glyphs, but his gaze keeps returning to me—intense, searching. I pretend not to notice, focusing instead on the inscriptions as they weave a story older than any history I’ve known.

We reach the central chamber. The space is massive—rounded and domed, with crumbling columns that lean like tired giants. Machinery lies in disarray, so decayed it seems to merge with the stone itself, like roots intertwining with earth.

At the center of it all stands a platform—a raised dais bordered by remnants of energy pylons that must have hummed with life once. Wires snake from the walls toward the center like veins snaking toward a heart. Most of them lie broken and lifeless.

But hovering above that platform is an object that steals my breath.

The artifact—a compact thing that looks like half orb, half prism—glows softly from within, pulsing with a light that feels alive and aware. It hangs there, untouched by time or gravity, and in its glow lies a promise of power.

“Can you believe it?” I breathe out, hardly able to process what I see.

Kairon shifts closer, studying the artifact but still holding onto that steady intensity aimed at me. “It’s active,” he says finally, his voice low and gravelly as if he’s grappling with the enormity of what we’re witnessing. “After all this time.”

I nod slowly, a thrill running through me at his acknowledgment of its significance. This isn’t just an ancient relic; it’s something more—a potential key to escape this planet and everything it represents.

“What do you think it does?” I ask, almost afraid to voice my hopes out loud.

He considers my question for a moment before answering. “Whatever it is... it’s not going to be easy.”

None of this has been easy. Every step has been a question of whether or not we'll actually survive. But that… that artifact is our way out.

We're free.