Then the ground shook.
Jude grabbed her hand. "We’ve been found."
They sealed the chamber and fled through the back tunnels. Above them, the sound of footsteps multiplied, boots and claws alike, echoing in unnatural rhythm. Whoever was coming wasn’t human. Not anymore.
They erged in the Old Grid, a labyrinth of twisted tal and broken rails. Alis led the way, cutting a path through debris while Jude watched their backs. Shapes moved behind them, shadowy figures with too many limbs and too little humanity. They didn’t attack imdiately. They waited, stalked, herded. He had seen this tactic before. They were being pushed sowhere.
Alis realized it too late.
The tunnel ahead collapsed in fire and dust, forcing them to stop. Behind them, the figures closed in.
"We fight," Jude said.
"We’ll die," she snapped.
"Then we’ll die together."
But before the creatures could strike, a new sound erupted, high-pitched and constant, like tal screaming. The walls of the tunnel exploded outward, and a figure stepped through the debris. A woman, cloaked in green and black, her face obscured, her arms covered in sigils that burned with erald fire.
The creatures hissed and retreated, vanishing into the shadows.
The woman looked at them. "You’re late."
Jude blinked. "Do I know you?"
"No," she said. "But I know what you’re carrying."
She gestured, and the fragnt appeared beside her, pulled through space like a toy. Alis scread and tried to grab it, but the woman raised a hand.
"Don’t. It’s awake now. You can’t hold it anymore."
"What do you want with it?" Jude asked.
"To take it ho."
"Where’s that?"
She turned her face slightly, just enough for him to see her eyes, gold and green, glowing.
"Where it was made."
Then she vanished, along with the fragnt.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"What the hell just happened?" Alis whispered.
"We lost," Jude said.
But deep down, he wasn’t sure. Because sothing about that woman, her presence, her power, it wasn’t like the Helix. It was different. Older.
And she had called it ho.
They returned to the surface hours later, tired, wounded, and confused. Alis disappeared again, promising to trace the woman’s signal. Jude made his way back to the edges of the city, where the storm had finally broken. He stood beneath the gray sky, watching the sun rise through a layer of blood-colored clouds.
Everything had changed.
The Helix was no longer the greatest threat.
Because soone had just taken its heart.
And whoever she was, she hadn’t co to destroy.
She had co to reclaim.
Jude returned to the surface with a cold sense of disorientation twisting through his chest. The streets were quieter than usual, though he couldn’t tell if it was because the people were hiding or if there simply weren’t many left. He hadn’t realized how far they had gone underground until he climbed out of the manhole near the old east district. It used to be a thriving tech hub, but now most of the buildings were shuttered, reclaid by ivy and silence. Even the buzz of street-level drones was absent, replaced by the hum of the wind and the faint distant rattle of an old sign swinging in the breeze.
He kept walking. His legs ached, and his back felt like stone, but his mind wouldn’t let him stop. Not after what they had seen. Not after that woman. She hadn’t just taken the fragnt, she had pulled it through space like she owned it, like it was never ant to be in their hands to begin with. And now, the fragile equilibrium they had been clinging to was shattered.
The Watch wouldn’t believe it. The city council would deny it. And the Archives? They’d probably declare it an anomaly and bury the data. But Jude couldn’t let it go. Not anymore.
He crossed a crumbling plaza where once a giant digital board had displayed news and weather. Now it flickered randomly, spitting static and ghost images of headlines long gone. The statue in the center, an old Guardian with a blade carved from obsidian, was defaced, the face chipped away, the base covered in protest graffiti. He paused in front of it for a mont, rembering what the Guardians used to be. Not just protectors, but legends. They were supposed to be the last line, the final hope. Now, they were stories no one believed in anymore.
At the far edge of the plaza, a small warehouse stood half-collapsed, hidden beneath tarps and tal sheets. Jude stepped through a concealed door at the side, into what remained of his base. The interior was lit only by ergency power, panels on the far wall buzzed faintly, casting orange light over the room. A table stood in the center, surrounded by holoscreens, maps, and scattered notes. Old weapons were mounted on racks. So were relics from before the collapse, others salvaged from forgotten bunkers.
He dropped his bag on the table, stripped off his coat, and slumped into the nearest chair.
A small light blinked on the terminal in the corner. A ssage. He stood and walked over, pressing the cracked screen. The voice that filled the room made him freeze.
"I know what you saw. We all saw her. Don’t co looking for answers. But if you want to survive, co to the old substation near Sector Nine. Midnight. No weapons. No signals. If you bring anyone else, you won’t leave alive."
The ssage ended.
No na. No face.
But he recognized the voice. Nira.
Once one of the best in the Inner Guard. A spy. A ghost. She had vanished three years ago after a mission into the Outer Wastes. Everyone assud she was dead. Apparently not.
Jude paced the room. Every instinct told him this was a trap. But then again, everything lately felt like a trap. He checked his gear, concealed two knives, and powered down his terminal. He didn’t have ti to rest. He had twelve hours to get to Sector Nine, and the fastest way there cut through districts long abandoned to the Bonefielders, feral scavengers who had abandoned even the idea of civilization.
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