Chapter 455
Author: Yeshua Yin
last update2026-02-06 22:19:58

The sun had not yet breached the horizon when Oliver Beckett stepped onto the observation deck of the Skydock Tower.

Below him, the city of Solara Vant stretched in crystalline splendor, its streets alive with the quiet hum of early activity.

Even at this hour, the metropolis seemed to pulse with anticipation, every reflected light a spark of humanity’s ambition.

The air tasted faintly metallic, a residue of the Traveler Academy’s latest stabilization experiments.

Oliver inhaled sharply, fe
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  • Chapter 457

    The wind across Beta-7 carried a hollow, metallic whine, scraping against the hull of the Lumen Horizon as if the planet itself were protesting their arrival. Oliver Beckett stepped onto the observation deck, the glass beneath his boots humming faintly with the residual energy of the Rift. The sky was not a sky at all but a fractured dome of gray-green clouds, jagged fissures of light tearing across it. He pressed a gloved hand to the railing and surveyed the desolate plain stretching into the distance, dotted with angular structures half-buried in dust.“I’ve never seen architecture like this,” Iris said behind him, voice clipped through the comm link. She crouched to examine the base of a nearby spire, her fingers brushing against a smooth, reflective surface. “Look, these walls. They’re not stone, not metal. Glass, but somehow grown, not forged. And, inscriptions.”Oliver leaned over, his eyes narrowing. Symbols shimmered faintly beneath the surface, their edges catching the di

  • Chapter 456

    Dawn stretched across Solara Vant like a pale promise. The Skydock Tower gleamed in soft golden light, and the Lumen Horizon waited, suspended in a cradle of gravity anchors and shimmering light rails. Oliver moved across the deck, his boots clanging against the crystalized flooring, a deliberate rhythm against the hum of the rift stabilizers. Iris followed behind him, clipboard in hand, checking each readout, while Billy oversaw the last-minute calibrations on the auxiliary power conduits.“Ready?” Oliver asked, his voice firm.Iris nodded without looking up. “Systems nominal. Anchor stability at ninety-nine point seven percent. Navigation confirms jump coordinates. Your personal synchronization threshold is within safe parameters.”Billy smirked, tension hidden behind calm efficiency. “All clear from me. Engines will hold. Don’t fry the ship on your first test flight, hero.”Oliver didn’t reply. He stared ahead at the gaping blue rift, a fissure suspended between dimensions, tremb

  • Chapter 455

    The sun had not yet breached the horizon when Oliver Beckett stepped onto the observation deck of the Skydock Tower. Below him, the city of Solara Vant stretched in crystalline splendor, its streets alive with the quiet hum of early activity. Even at this hour, the metropolis seemed to pulse with anticipation, every reflected light a spark of humanity’s ambition. The air tasted faintly metallic, a residue of the Traveler Academy’s latest stabilization experiments. Oliver inhaled sharply, feeling the faint tremor of energy beneath his feet, the same subtle vibration that had presaged the Rift Crisis years ago. It was not fear that settled in his chest, but a quiet awareness: history was beginning again.Behind him, Iris approached, her boots clinking softly against the polished deck. She wore the full ceremonial attire of the Light Division.Her armor gleamed with refractive panels that caught the pre-dawn glow, casting a lattice of light across the floor. She did not speak at fi

  • Chapter 454

    Oliver stirred beneath the thin warmth of his blanket, the hum of Solara Vant’s city barely filtering through the reinforced glass of his high-rise quarters. His dreams, however, were not of the city, nor of the streets bustling with hope and light. They were of the battlefield, the endless twilight of shattered rock and rippling rifts, the smell of scorched steel and ozone.Andre stood before him, whole, unscarred, almost impossibly human again. His figure radiated calm authority, the twisted corruption of the Rift and machinery absent, replaced with a strange, unyielding clarity. Above them, the black aurora pulsed across the sky, vast and immovable, as though the heavens themselves were holding their breath.“You did well, Oliver,” Andre said, his voice low but carrying, echoing as though the winds themselves repeated it. “But they’ve seen you now.”Oliver’s fists clenched, the weight of every battle, every life saved, pressing on him even in sleep. “Who? What do you mean?” His

  • Chapter 453

    The hall filled before dawn. Light panels slid into place along the Traveler Academy’s outer ring, locking with a low hum that carried across the plaza. Rows of recruits stood shoulder to shoulder on the polished stone, boots aligned, hands at their sides. Some wore fresh uniforms that still held sharp creases. Others wore patched gear from border towns and rebuilt cities. Drones hovered overhead, adjusting angles, projecting the scene to cities across the world.Oliver arrived without escort. He walked through the side entrance, armor sealed but unmarked, cloak removed.The silver sigil at his chest stayed dim, barely visible. The crowd noticed anyway. Heads turned in waves. A ripple moved through the formation as whispers cut off and posture tightened.Iris stood near the front platform, light-division whites trimmed with gold. Her hair was tied back, throat scar still faint but visible. Billy leaned against a support pillar at the edge of the dais, jacket open, hands loose, eye

  • Chapter 452

    The first sign that the world had changed appeared at dawn, not in the sky, but in the streets. Workers moved without escorts.In the coastal city of Naros, cranes lifted steel frames into place while children ran between their shadows. The ground no longer trembled with Rift pressure. The air no longer hummed. Sirens stayed silent. The System displayed green stability icons instead of warning glyphs.Oliver walked through the rebuilt market district with his hood down. He carried no weapon. His Reality Anchor rested quiet against his chest, the silver sigil dim beneath his uniform.People noticed him anyway. A woman froze mid-step, her hands full of tools. She stared, then bowed so fast her helmet slipped. Others followed. A ripple moved through the street as heads lowered.Oliver stopped. “Please,” he said. “Keep working.”No one moved. He lifted his hands, palms open. “I’m just passing through.”A man stepped forward, old, spine bent from years of labor. He held out a small carved

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