The salt plain was quiet.
Too quiet.
Kael and Mara walked side by side, boots crunching softly over the cracked ground. The sky overhead was pale, the horizon blurred by heat or memory.
The bottle at Kael's side had been humming since dawn.
Not loud.
But constant.
Like it knew where they were going.
"Almost there," Mara muttered.
She pointed to a jagged break in the earth ahead—
a narrow ravine, cut like a scar across the land.
Beneath it: shadows.
And something else.
A faint pulse.
A breath.
Metal and meaning.
They descended carefully, the rock brittle underfoot.
At the base, half-buried in salt and dust, a structure jutted from the canyon wall—
curved, corroded, but not dead.
Mara crouched beside a sealed hatch.
"This is the relay. Used to send mind-link bursts across the old lines."
Kael raised an eyebrow.
"Still works?"
Mara shrugged.
"Depends on what you're trying to say."
The hatch groaned as she pried it open.
A hiss of stale air escaped—followed by silence.
They stepped inside.
The chamber beyond was dim.
Circular.
Six consoles lined the edges, each cracked and bleeding green-glass filament. At the center, a raised platform hummed softly.
The moment Kael entered, the golden lines on his arm pulsed.
The bottle vibrated once—
then went still.
Mara watched him.
"You're syncing."
Kael didn't respond.
He stepped toward the platform.
The air grew colder.
He placed his hand against the metal.
The room reacted.
Light sparked from the walls.
Sigils ignited.
And above the platform—
a figure formed.
Not flesh.
Not memory.
Something in between.
A projection.
A man.
Cloaked in dark robes lined with ancient circuitry.
His face—blurred, but fixed toward Kael.
And he spoke.
"Witness Node A-3 recognized."
"Core retention confirmed."
"Event loop threshold reached."
"Execute or observe?"
Kael's mind reeled.
"What is this?"
The voice ignored him.
"Execute or observe?"
The bottle burned against his side.
Kael fell to his knees.
His vision split—
A flash.
He stood on the same platform—years older.
Blood on his hands.
The bottle shattered.
Cities burning in the distance.
Ash falling from the sky.
A woman crying.
His name—
but not from her lips.
From the bottle.
Then darkness.
Kael gasped.
Mara grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide.
"What did you see?"
Kael tried to answer.
He couldn't.
The pain was still in his spine.
The fear in his teeth.
"I die," he whispered.
"And the world ends with me."
Mara stepped back.
Her hand hovered near her blade.
The bottle dimmed.
No glow.
No comfort.
Just the soft, unrelenting pulse.
Kael stood.
His breath steadying.
"Mara—"
She held up a hand.
"We need to leave. Now."
A new sound echoed from above.
Not footsteps.
Not wind.
A hum.
Mechanical.
Layered.
Like a chorus of dead thoughts.
Kael looked up.
So did Mara.
At the mouth of the ravine, something descended.
Black armor.
Floating.
Faceless.
A single glyph etched across its chest:
⸢KNOWLEDGE MUST SURVIVE⸥
Mara whispered:
"Lattice Watcher."
Kael's bottle pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then held.
The entity raised a hand.
Not to attack.
But to speak.
"Return the core."