The ride down was suffocating.
The elevator moved with unnatural quiet, descending far beneath Sector Zero—far below the Hero Union's known headquarters, into a place Caleb hadn't even known existed. The hum of Rift energy buzzed through the metal rails. The lights flickered occasionally, as though uncertain if they should stay on.
Caleb stood between two Union guards who treated him like a radioactive potato—eyes forward, no talking. Director Yu, ever the glacier, stood across from him, hands behind her back, gaze locked ahead.
"So," Caleb muttered, mostly to himself, "anyone else feeling like we're going to meet Satan for brunch?"
One of the guards flinched slightly. The other stayed frozen.
Caleb leaned slightly toward Yu. "Is this one of those places where if I sneeze, I accidentally trigger a monster invasion?"
Yu didn't respond. Which was probably her usual response to humor.
"Cool," he said. "Love that for me."
The elevator finally hissed to a stop. The doors peeled open, revealing a tunnel—dim, narrow, with walls etched in glowing glyphs that pulsed in time with Caleb's heartbeat. Either that, or he was paranoid.
They walked.
The silence grew heavier with every step.
Finally, the tunnel widened into a domed chamber—no windows, no visible source of light, yet the room glowed with eerie clarity. At the center hovered a massive black orb, suspended mid-air by coils of Riftlight energy that twisted like smoke.
"The Vault of Echoes," Yu announced without ceremony. "The Union's most protected archive. This is where the worst truths are kept."
"Yay," Caleb said. "Can't wait to unpack my emotional trauma in front of strangers."
Yu motioned to a console. The guards stepped back.
Caleb approached slowly. The console activated with a soft chime and projected a flickering image—a holographic file tagged:
[PROJECT RIFTBORN – LEVEL BLACK ACCESS ONLY]
Beneath it:
Subject 09 – Marcus Calen
Relation to: Caleb Mark
He swallowed hard. His father.
Yu spoke. "This is why you're here. Not to be trained. Not to be protected. To be understood."
Caleb's mouth twitched. "I thought I was here because I might explode."
"That too," she replied dryly.
He tapped the file. The recording began.
A figure stumbled into frame—Marcus Calen, younger than in any photo Caleb had seen. Blood at his temple, eyes wild. A Rift gate swirled behind him, unstable, leaking blacklight.
"They lied to me," Marcus said. "They told me it would end with me. That the Rift wouldn't reach my son. But they were wrong. The Rift wants more."
Caleb's chest tightened.
"You're not just bonded," his father whispered. "You're built. The Rift doesn't choose—it designs. And you… you were made with a purpose."
The recording glitched violently, then cut out.
Silence fell again.
Yu didn't offer comfort. She didn't speak at all.
But Caleb didn't need her to. He was beginning to understand something horrifying: whatever power he had, it wasn't a miracle.
It was part of a plan.
And plans could be weaponized.
"I want to train," he said suddenly. "I want control."
Yu gave him a long look.
"Then you'll start from the bottom," she said. "You're still weak. We'll treat you like you are."
"Thanks," he said, "I love humiliation before breakfast."
She walked off. He turned to follow—then stopped as a technician ran past with a tablet.
"Sorry!" the man called out. "Sentient broom escaped again!"
Caleb blinked. "What do you mean again?!"
The technician vanished down the hall. Somewhere distant, a mop bucket screamed.
Caleb stared after him. "I'm not even asking."
As he caught up to Yu, he glanced back once at the orb in the center of the vault. It pulsed like a heart. A cold, ancient one.
He didn't know what it was yet.
But it felt like it had been waiting for him.
Waiting a long time.