Fractured Realms

The City Between Worlds

The light swallowed me whole, then released me into motion.

I fell through layers of air that shimmered like broken mirrors. Each one reflected a city I did not recognize. When I struck the ground, it was solid but trembling, as if the world itself was waking beneath my feet.

I pushed myself up, breath unsteady. The air smelled of stone dust and iron. The sky was low, filled with shifting clouds that carried faint orange light. Around me stretched a city that seemed endless, carved into fragments of reality held together by streams of energy.

Towers leaned at impossible angles but did not fall. Bridges crossed gaps that reached into nothing. Walls pulsed faintly with veins of blue light, beating in time with my pulse.

Every sound echoed. My footsteps rang louder than they should have. The place was not silent. It was listening.

A wind moved through the empty streets, carrying whispers that sounded almost human. I walked forward slowly, keeping one hand close to the glow beneath my skin.

The ground sloped downward into a wider avenue lined with broken pillars. Between them were stalls and tables covered in dust, remnants of a market that had been frozen mid-movement. I could still see faint outlines where people might have stood, their shapes burned into the stone like memories scorched by light.

As I moved deeper, the air grew thicker. The hum beneath my feet grew louder. The city’s pulse matched mine until I could no longer tell where my heartbeat ended and its began.

Then I heard it.

A sound like glass shattering far above. I looked up. A fragment of one of the floating towers had split free. It turned slowly as it fell, dragging streaks of light behind it. I stepped back just as it crashed into the street ahead, sending out a burst of energy that threw me to the ground.

When the light cleared, I saw movement within the dust. Shapes emerged from the debris.

They were not human.

Figures of fractured metal and stone pulled themselves from the rubble, their bodies jointed and uneven, as though made from the broken parts of the city itself. Blue fire burned where their eyes should have been.

The closest one straightened, tilting its head at me. Its mouth opened, producing a low grinding sound. The others echoed it, their voices a chorus of static.

My pulse quickened. The light inside me stirred in response, rising along my arms until my hands glowed faintly.

The creatures stepped closer. I could feel the vibration of their movements through the ground.

I backed away. “I don’t want to fight.”

They did not understand. One lunged forward, moving faster than its weight should allow.

I reacted without thought. My hands lifted. Light burst from my palms, forming a translucent barrier in front of me. The creature struck it and stopped mid-motion. Sparks scattered across its surface. The energy thrummed in my bones, holding firm.

Shock froze me. I had not meant to do it.

The creature pushed harder, its body cracking under the pressure. The barrier began to vibrate. I felt it weakening. Instinct told me to move, but something else took over.

The light inside me changed direction, flowing from defense to release. The barrier shattered outward, a wave of energy that threw the creatures back. The force knocked me off my feet as well.

For a heartbeat, the world went white.

When I opened my eyes, fragments of stone and metal drifted in the air, glowing softly before fading into dust. The creatures that had stood before me were gone.

I sat still, breathing hard. My hands still trembled with fading light.

“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered. The words felt heavy in the silence.

A voice answered. “Few ever do.”

I turned sharply.

A woman stood several meters away, her body half-covered in armor made from the same glassy material as the towers. Her hair was pale, her eyes silver, reflecting the light around us. She carried a staff that pulsed faintly with energy, and she watched me with careful restraint.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Seryn,” she said. “You should not be here.”

“I could say the same.”

She stepped closer, studying me as though measuring my presence against something unseen. “You are not from this realm.”

“No.”

“Then you must have come through the fracture. It leaves its mark on everything it touches.” She gestured toward the faint glow under my skin. “Even on you.”

I looked down. The light had faded, but faint lines still traced along my arms. “What are those things that attacked me?”

“Remnants,” she said. “When the city fell, it began rebuilding itself. Those are its mistakes.”

The ground trembled again, deeper this time. Dust rose from the cracks between stones.

Seryn turned her head slightly, listening. “We should move. This place is not stable.”

Before I could answer, another sound cut through the air — a deep, resonant pulse that felt like thunder trapped underground.

The street behind us exploded upward. A massive form rose from beneath the surface, a creature built entirely from the city’s broken structures. Its limbs were made of fused towers, its body of shifting metal. Every movement produced sparks and grinding noise.

Seryn raised her staff. “Run.”

The creature lunged. I dove aside as its arm crashed down, shattering the stone. The shockwave sent debris flying in all directions.

Seryn moved with precision, striking the ground with her staff. Lines of white light spread from its tip, forming barriers that deflected falling rubble.

I rolled to my feet. The creature’s head turned toward me, drawn to the faint glow still pulsing beneath my skin. Its eyes flared brighter.

It charged.

I ran, but the street shifted beneath me. Segments of the ground slid apart, forcing me toward a narrow bridge that spanned a chasm filled with swirling light. The air burned with heat.

The creature followed, each step shaking the bridge. I reached the center and turned. There was nowhere else to go.

The glow in my hands returned, unbidden. I felt the same energy as before, but stronger, faster.

The creature raised its arm to strike. I thrust both hands forward.

Light surged outward, forming a wave that collided with its attack. The impact filled the air with sound, a deep note that rattled every surface. The bridge cracked under the force.

I stumbled backward. The creature staggered but did not fall. It roared, a sound like bending metal, and swung again.

Seryn appeared on the far side, leaping across the collapsing stones. She drove her staff into the creature’s side, releasing a burst of white light. The impact knocked it off balance.

“Now,” she shouted.

I focused on the glow in my chest, willing it outward. The energy obeyed. It gathered around my hands, condensed, then released in a single pulse.

The blast struck the creature square in the chest. Cracks spread across its body. For a moment, it froze, light leaking from the fractures. Then it collapsed, breaking apart into countless fragments that scattered into the air and dissolved into nothing.

Silence returned, broken only by the faint echo of my breathing.

Seryn lowered her staff. “You should not have been able to do that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said again. My hands were still shaking. “It just happened.”

She studied me quietly, then looked toward the remains of the bridge. “The city will not ignore this. You have woken it.”

I frowned. “Woken what?”

She did not answer. The ground beneath us pulsed once, twice, then cracked open. Blue light poured through the fractures, racing along the streets in every direction.

Seryn’s expression hardened. “It knows your name.”

The light surged upward, surrounding us in a column that stretched into the sky. The city itself began to move, structures shifting, towers rotating as if turning to face us. The hum that filled the air became a single, deep note that pressed against my chest.

I stepped back. “What is happening?”

“The city remembers you,” Seryn said. “And it is deciding whether to let you live.”

The ground split wider. Beneath the stone, I saw layers of machinery, light, and something that looked disturbingly organic. The city’s heart was beating.

Seryn grabbed my arm. “Move. Now.”

We ran as the bridge collapsed behind us. Energy surged through the streets, shattering walls and sending shards of crystal into the air.

A blast threw us forward. I hit the ground hard and rolled. The air burned, the light blinding. For a second, I thought everything would end there.

Then silence.

I opened my eyes. The city was still. The light had receded into the cracks. The hum was gone.

Seryn stood a few paces away, staring at the horizon. “It has gone back to sleep,” she said. “But not for long.”

I pushed myself up. “What was that?”

“The city between worlds,” she replied quietly. “It exists in the space between creation and ruin. It does not welcome intruders. Yet it remembers one name above all.”

Her gaze met mine. “Kael Ardent.”

The sound of my name echoed across the ruins, carried by a wind that rose from nowhere. The city’s pulse answered, faint but present.

Seryn turned away. “Come. There is more to see before it wakes again.”

As I followed, I felt the ground vibrate once more, like something vast turning beneath the surface. The city was watching.

And somewhere deep within it, a new sound began to rise,  slow, rhythmic, alive.

The heartbeat of the fracture had found me again.