The sky gloomy in the morning was dull steel-colored. Low clouds tipped the compound in shade. Vans and drone news hovered in the boundaries, like their blinking lights were the vultures waiting over something already dead. It was tense inside that facility.Nova was sitting in the command center and was fiddling with the controls. The Echoheart Core had melted out inside and killed and yet the interest it had aroused was on the increase.Them--"they want it," she grimly murmured. She spoke with a tight voice. Everyone of them.Foreign government officials, proprietary technology companies and even humanitarian agencies were insisting to be allowed to oversee the wreckage. Everybody desired to witness what still existed of Olivia project. Nova denied them everything. So far.And she called to Jayden.In a few seconds he was here beside her. His eyes were aged more than yesterday. They had some dark shadows under their eyes, and his hair was out of order. yet scarcely had he slept sinc

They went down to the lower layers where light has not been seen during the past months.The doors were creaking metal and the air that came out was stale as burnt breath.There was darkness and red light inside. There were symbols of thread on the walls and they beat lightly like the veins under the skin.Isaac was not afraid to walk. His little hand went up and touched the wall and the symbols grew brighter.He has the direction of which he is going, said Nova to herself.Jayden dutifully trail followed him, light in hand.They went further beyond the destroyed labs, broken glass malays, and dead terminals.Then Isaac held.before them towered a half-burnt, half-alive machine. Wires came dangling down it like roots. At the core of the room something was burning.Jayden came nearer. This is a sub node. A storage cache of memory.”Nova nodded. It must have been crash proof.The two hands were on the machine.He shut his eyes.And whole the vault flared up, Nova glimpsed it in flights

The place of red threads was endless around Caspian. It glimmered but not with fire but with memory ribbons of soft light and sadness. His bare feet pass noiselessly over the glowing threads that swayed but inches above the floor. Step by step he seemed to hear a thing or two saying across his skin. He did not know whether it was fright or hope. Maybe both.He was yet a child.Small hands. Soft eyes. a heart which had been opened too prematurely.In this world, however, time never traveled as before. It snaked and twisted and caused him to feel old and young. How long he had been on his walk he did not know. It was days and nights. Perhaps it was years. Or it was only a few minutes.A change was beginning to come in the sky above.Here it was always red. Just the same color as the threads as though the world were painted in grief. But now far away he beheld it alter. A kind of radiant glow. Not red. Not yellow. Something else. Something gentle. A color that was weird on his chest.Blu