2023-12-04 12:57:56
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4-17
Night fell over the savanna like a heavy curtain, drowning the horizon in ink-black darkness. The team made camp in an abandoned outpost—crumbling stone walls, rusted radio towers, and dust-covered supply crates long forgotten by whatever expedition once called this place home.Sahara slept under Yuki’s protective wards, her breath shallow but steady. Emerald Shadow pulsed beneath her skin, responding to every fluctuation of Andrew’s aura—every flicker of the dying Sapphire, every spike of Noir’s unstable Phoenix fire.Andrew watched her from the doorway.“You’re restless,” Noir murmured behind him.Andrew startled—he hadn’t heard Noir approach. Phoenix fire made Noir’s presence erratic. Sometimes he radiated heat like a furnace; other times he felt cold, ghostlike.Tonight, he felt both.Andrew didn’t look away from Sahara. “She saw our futures.”Noir’s voice dropped. “I know.”Andrew clenched his jaw. “She said I die under a sky with no stars.”“And?” Noir asked quietly.“And she sa
4-16
Andrew didn’t remember waking.He only remembered the sensation of drowning in fire—Phoenix fire—and Noir’s scream echoing inside the collapsing cavern. Then weightlessness. Then nothing.Until now.He gasped sharply, sucking in air that tasted like earth, dust, and humidity. Not fire. Not brimstone. Real air. Damp, almost cold against his burned lungs.His vision blurred, then adjusted.He was lying in a tent.Canvas walls swayed gently. Rain—real rain this time—pattered outside like a thousand tiny drums.Yuki sat beside him, dark circles under her eyes, hands resting on Andrew’s chest, her aura woven into weak healing lines. Jiro stood near the entrance, arms crossed, staring at the storm. Rayan snored on the floor. Mika polished blood off her gauntlets, jaw tight.Andrew tried to sit up.Yuki pressed him back down instantly. “No.”He croaked, “Noir—”Yuki’s expression twisted—fear, grief, confusion. “He’s alive. But changed.”Jiro answered without turning. “Phoenix didn’t consume
4-15
The storm had followed them.Not rain—not wind—but heat.Dry, metallic, suffocating heat that smelled like scorched feathers and old blood.They reached the edge of Mount Vaelor at dawn, the sun barely strong enough to pierce the iron-red haze. The mountain’s surface resembled a giant slag heap of volcanic stone, cracked into patterns that glowed faintly with crimson fire.Andrew’s steps faltered at the base.The Sapphire in his chest flickered—once, twice—then dimmed almost completely.Yuki caught his arm. “Andrew—stop. You’re not stable.”Andrew shoved away the pain and forced a breath. “The residue of Red Phoenix is up there. I feel it pulling me.”“It’s not pulling you.” Jiro’s voice dropped. “It’s pulling Noir.”Rayan scanned the glowing crevices. “Or both of you. Soul twins. Great. Love that for us.”Mika frowned. “We need a plan. Phoenix residue isn’t like Crystal Sol. It doesn’t explode. It invades. Corrupts. Burns anything it touches.”“And Noir might be trying to absorb
4-14
Andrew awoke inside a memory.Not a dream—not a vision—a memory.Except it wasn’t his.The world around him shimmered like wet paint. Colors bled into each other. The ground felt weightless. The sky rippled like fabric in slow motion. Andrew blinked, disoriented, as the shapes solidified into something familiar:A long white corridor.Cold lights.Footsteps echoing against marble.He knew this place.This was the Helios Research Wing.Thirty years ago.Before he was born.Except—Andrew had never been here.Not as himself.He looked down.He was smaller. Weightless. Like watching through the eyes of something that wasn’t fully alive yet.A voice echoed down the corridor.Calm. Commanding. Too familiar.William.Andrew’s father.Andrew tensed as the man came into view—a tall figure in a dark coat, posture strict, eyes cold enough to freeze molten stone. Another figure walked beside him: a woman with long raven hair—Andrew’s mother.She was shaking.Andrew’s breath hitched. “Mom…?”She
4-13
They reached the outskirts of Vessela at sunset.The city should have been alive—markets busy, lights turning on, traffic flowing, the usual hum of an evening settling in. Instead, they were met with silence. Not peaceful silence, but a suffocating blankness that made the air taste metallic.Andrew slowed.Yuki whispered, “Something’s wrong.”Jiro unsheathed his blades. “Noir.”Andrew didn’t answer, but he already knew.Noir was here.Hours ago.The Sapphire in Andrew’s chest pulsed weakly, flickering like a dying candle. Each beat felt thinner. Fainter. He pushed forward anyway, because the call—those scattered pieces of his missing soul—pulled him deeper into the city.They turned a corner.And froze.The streets were full of people.Standing perfectly still.Men.Women.Children.Old, young, workers, students—all frozen mid-step, mid-motion, mid-breath. Hundreds of them. Their eyes were open, staring forward, but empty—hollow glass marbles with no light behind them.Rayan swallowed
4-12
Rain chased them as they moved north, the storm growing thicker, heavier, almost sentient—as if the world itself was warning them to turn around. Lightning carved jagged scars through the clouds, illuminating the mountains like the ribs of some ancient, slumbering beast.Andrew walked at the front.Barely.Every step felt like knives grinding in his bones. His breathing rasped. His vision blurred. The cracks in the Sapphire spread with each heartbeat, glowing faint blue-white before dimming again. But he didn’t slow down.Couldn’t.Noir was moving, and Andrew could feel him like a faint echo—a second pulse buried inside his own failing one.The others followed close, watching him with a mix of fear and helpless frustration.“Andrew,” Yuki murmured, her voice barely carrying over the wind. “You need to stop. You’re burning through your soul energy too fast.”Andrew didn’t look back. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”Rayan clicked his tongue. “This is suicide. We should bind
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