The canyon collapsed without warning. One moment it was there, wide, jagged, packed with refugees running shoulder to shoulder, and the next it folded inward. Stone bent. Gravity spiked. People lifted off the ground and slammed back down as the air twisted. Oliver was already shouting before the sound reached him. “Left flank, break right! Move!”The order rippled late through the mass of bodies. Some reacted in time. Others did not.The canyon floor dropped out. A transport sled tipped sideways and vanished into the dark. A scream cut off mid-breath. The Envoy had moved. Not forward. Outward.Its gravity field swept across Veyra Reach like a slow wave. Cliffs bowed inward. Floating crystal formations slammed together and shattered. The sky dimmed as light bent toward a single point beyond the horizon.Billy skidded to Oliver’s side, one hand braced against the ground. “That was ten klicks out.”“It’s testing range,” Oliver said. “Keep them moving.”Ahead, the fortress came into vie

The plateau burned with fractured light. The Envoy had pulled back from Veyra Bastion, but its presence still pressed down on the terrain. Gravity pulses bent the ground, lifting boulders and tearing fissures across the canyon floor. Steam hissed from fractured crystal veins. The sky rippled like broken glass.Oliver ran across the fractured plateau, the shard strapped to his side, Reality Anchor humming faintly. Dust and rock tumbled with every step. He glanced back. The avatars, now smaller but faster, mirrored his movements, sliding across the warped terrain.“Iris!” he shouted. His voice cracked across static in the comm.“I’m not leaving!” her voice shot back. She ran beside him, her bandages stained but intact, projector glyphs flickering in front of her hands. She moved faster than her injuries should have allowed, weaving through collapsing rock, warning other survivors, marking safe paths.Oliver didn’t argue. He knew she wouldn’t leave. She never had. Ahead, the half-buried

The first sign was the light. Not a beam. Not a flare. Just color returning where there had been none.The clouds above Veyra Reach thinned in uneven patches. Gray sheets tore apart and drifted away, pulled by winds that had not existed an hour earlier. Pale blue broke through, fragile at first, then widening until the sky opened fully.People noticed one by one. A Traveler lowered his rifle and stared upward. A soldier stopped tightening a tourniquet and squinted at the light. Someone laughed, short and sharp, like they did not trust it yet.The auroras faded next. Ribbons of distorted color that had wrapped the plateau for weeks dimmed and pulled back into the upper sky.Each strand thinned, snapped, and vanished. Where they disappeared, normal air rushed in, cold and clean.Oliver stood at the edge of the glowing scar. The ground beneath his boots was still warm. Cracks ran outward in jagged lines, their edges faintly lit. Beyond them, the plateau stretched in broken layers, scarr

The door sealed behind Oliver with a sound like stone locking into place.The meditation chamber dimmed. The space was circular, walls formed from layered crystal that caught and bent light into soft angles. Lines of faint gold ran through the floor in geometric patterns. At the center stood a single platform, bare and smooth.Oliver stepped onto it. The chamber recognized him at once. Light gathered under his boots. The air thickened, pressing against his skin.He rolled his shoulders once and flexed his left hand. The brace had been removed, but the arm still felt wrong. Heavy. Slower than the rest of him. A soft tone sounded.USER IDENTIFIED.OLIVER BECKETT.The platform rose an inch, then locked. Oliver exhaled through his nose. “Begin,” he said.The chamber responded immediately. Light surged up the walls. The crystal panels brightened until their edges blurred. The gold lines on the floor ignited, spreading outward in concentric rings.The temperature dropped. Oliver’s breath f

The training hall was silent, except for the faint hum of energy coursing through the floors.Rows of Light Division recruits lined up on polished crystal panels, weapons at the ready. Light arcs traced along the walls, calibrated to simulate rift instability. The air felt thick, heavy with residual energy from yesterday’s exercises.Iris stood at the center. Her gauntlets gleamed under the hall lights, sleeves rolled up, bandages still faintly visible beneath the fabric. Sweat ran down her temples. Every muscle in her body was tense. “Begin,” the instructor said. His voice was clipped, sharp.The air shifted. Energy pulses fired from the walls, arcs of light bending through the hall to test the recruits. Some flinched, some ducked. A few held their ground.Iris inhaled. She focused on the glow in her veins, the faint resonance left behind by Oliver’s Anchor. It pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, steady, constant.She raised her hands. Light bent around her palms, fragile at first.