Codewrights were the only runners who could dream.That's what they taught us—like it was a comfort.The others couldn't stitch memory into story.Couldn't see what we saw when the lights went out.
I'd been led into the shell of a home that once belonged to Rebel and Priya. I helped her toward the bed, but she hesitated, stopping at its edge like it might bite.
"He's still in this room," she whispered, voice thinned by grief. "And I can't reach him."
Her fingers curled into fists, trembling. "I was corrupted when I left to gather supplies. Rebel warned me not to go, but I thought I could help. I slipped—fell on a tree root. Just that. Just... that."
She sank to the floor with a slow, sinking exhale, like her body couldn't hold itself up anymore. I knelt across from her in the darkened room.
"He tried everything," she said, barely audible. "If I'd known what the code would cost... I would've let it take me. He was supposed to survive. He was the strong one. The village needs him. Without him, the rot will creep back in, the Castors will come down from the north, and we'll lose what little we have left."
Tears fell steadily, forming a glimmering puddle on the wood.
I reached for her hands and held them gently. "He did it because he loved you, Priya. Because you were worth saving."
She yanked her hands away, glaring at them as though they'd betrayed her.
"Then why did he vanish like that?" she rasped. "Why did he melt into code like it didn't even hurt?"
I didn't have an answer. I only shook my head.
"Sometimes the world just takes," I murmured. "Even the best of us. Sometimes it doesn't make sense."
Her eyes were distant, haunted. "I thought I was hallucinating. But I'm still awake. I'm whole. And he's still gone."
I swallowed. "He wrote that code out of love, Priya. He rewrote reality for you."
She nodded slowly, as if waking from a trance. "How did you meet him?"
"He saved me," I said. "I was being hunted. A spider, almost the size of a house."
She didn't blink. "He always found the strays."
"He went up against a rival group just to take that code back. He didn't flinch. He knew he might die."
Something shifted behind her eyes. A spark of something brittle. Desperation, maybe. Or resolve.
"Then help us," she said suddenly. "You're a Codewright too."
I hesitated. "I—yes. But I'm not him. I've never purified anything. I'm not ready—"
"You don't have to be," she said, grabbing my shoulders. Her voice had gone sharp, urgent. "You're here. That's what matters. He brought you here. Don't you see? He meant for you to stay."
I thought of Hexa. Of the Elites. Of the target I carried everywhere I went. But I also thought of how long I'd been running. Of how exhausted I was. Of Vivid.
Priya's grip tightened. "We need a Codewright. You're our last one."
Then she looked down.
That's when I noticed it. The slight swell beneath her tunic. A tremble in her hands as she rested them on her belly.
"Priya..." I whispered.
Tears traced down her cheeks again. "Rebel's child. And I'm alone now."
I closed my eyes, and I saw Vivid's face again. The moment she vanished. Her eyes locking with mine. Her hand slipping from my grip.
And now—Priya. Still here. Still holding on.
"I'll stay," I said. "For as long as I can."
Priya pulled me close, clinging like someone half-afraid I might dissolve next.
"Thank you," she breathed. She pressed a hand to her stomach. "If it's a boy, I'll name him Ryder. Rebel loved that name."
"Ryder Ray," I said softly. "Keep it. No matter what."
Priya stood shakily and gestured to the bed. "Please. Rest. You look half-dead."
The moment my head hit the pillow, I slipped into the dream.
It wasn't memory. Not quite.
It began again—the unraveling. Rebel melting into code like wax near fire, his silhouette flickering away like a bad rendering. The dark thing in the distance, watching. Waiting.
The moment I bowed. And was spared.
Now I walked a path made of raw code, the lines breaking and reforming beneath each step. Searching. Always searching.
For my sister. For a trace. For hope.
It was useless.
Then the scene rewound—again and again—to the moment I'd reached for her. Vivid. Her fingers brushing mine. Her eyes full of terror.
Where are you, Vivid?
The dream offered no answer. Only the dark.