The wooden planks of the pier groaned beneath Elara's hesitant footsteps, each creak echoing through the thick ocean air. The salty breeze whipped around her, tugging at the strands of hair that had escaped her loose braid, sending them swirling around her face like restless ghosts. She pulled her jacket tighter, a futile shield against the chill that wasn't just from the cold. Something deeper, more urgent, pulsed beneath her skin. The night was heavy, thick with secrets.
Ahead of her stood Merrin—the stranger who had stepped out of the shadows like some dark prophecy. His long black coat billowed in the wind, his hands shoved deep in its pockets, and his eyes—dark, unblinking—were fixed on her and Jace with unnerving calm. It was the kind of look that seemed to pierce through the layers people wore, peeling back masks and lies alike.
Jace planted himself firmly beside Elara, the familiar protective tension coiling in his shoulders. His jaw clenched tight, brows furrowed. The way he stood said loud and clear: Don't push me. His voice cut through the salty air sharp and cold.
"You've got ten seconds to explain what the hell you want," he said, voice low but edged with steel.
Merrin's lips curved into a faint smile—too calm, too practiced. "I want what you want. Answers."
Elara swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The word 'answers' hung between them like a challenge, an invitation to step deeper into darkness.
"Then start talking," Jace demanded.
Merrin nodded and glanced toward the black sedan parked just off the pier, its windows gleaming under the pale moonlight. "Not here. Not with the whole town's eyes lurking around. This conversation requires privacy. And discretion."
Elara's gaze sharpened. "So, we just get into a stranger's car because… what? We're supposed to believe you're not some kind of threat? I've seen enough movies to know that never ends well."
He held her eyes steady, voice unwavering. "I'm not here to hurt you. Time isn't on your side. If you want to unravel the truth about Emmett, about your mother, about the chaos that's hunting you both—come with me."
Jace exchanged a look with Elara, his lips pressed into a hard line. She could see the conflict in his eyes—anger, suspicion, but beneath it all, something vulnerable. That name—Emmett—was a trigger that cracked the armor he wore so tightly.
Elara's breath caught. "You mentioned my mom."
Merrin's gaze darkened. "She was part of something far bigger than nursing. Before all that, she was involved in Project Ember."
Elara shook her head, disbelief tugging at her voice. "She was a nurse."
"Before that," Merrin repeated, voice low and grave. "Before anyone knew what was really happening, she was part of a secret effort. Something dangerous. Something they tried to bury."
"And Emmett?" Jace's voice faltered, barely a whisper.
"He was in too deep. Until it consumed him entirely."
The wind picked up, tangling Elara's hair across her face again, but this time, it felt like the world itself was twisting, folding around them. "What does this have to do with us?"
Merrin's eyes locked on hers, serious and unyielding. "You're the aftermath. The unanswered questions. The ones they didn't anticipate would survive."
Jace's fists clenched. "We go together. No tricks."
A nod from Merrin, cold and certain. "Of course."
The ride was long and suffocating. Inside the car, the stale scent of old leather and faint metallic tang filled the air. Elara sat rigidly, hands gripping the seatbelt as if it could anchor her to sanity. Jace was silent, staring out into the thick darkness that swallowed the road ahead. The only sounds were the steady hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath the tires.
They left town behind—familiar streets, streetlights, the safety of home—all replaced by dense woods and winding roads that seemed to snake deeper into forgotten wilderness. The headlights carved through the dark, revealing shadows that stretched and recoiled like living things.
After what felt like an eternity, the road ended abruptly at an ancient iron gate, its rusted bars half-choked by creeping moss and ivy. Merrin stepped out and, with a practiced motion, unlocked the gate with a heavy key that hung from a chain around his neck.
Beyond the gate lay a clearing bathed in moonlight. At its center stood a structure that felt alien to the forest — a gleaming glass dome, like a forgotten relic from a future that never came. Its curved surface caught the moonlight, scattering it into fractured patterns on the surrounding trees.
Elara's breath hitched. "What is this place?"
"A research station," Merrin answered, his voice dropping to a whisper. "One of the last remnants of Phase One of Ember."
Stepping inside the dome felt like crossing a threshold into another world. The air buzzed with low, vibrating energy that prickled Elara's skin. Walls lined with screens flickered erratically, displaying fractured images — streets frozen in time, distorted cityscapes, clocks spinning backwards.
"This is where Emmett crossed over," Merrin said softly.
Jace spun toward him, eyes wide and searching. "Crossed over what?"
Merrin's gaze didn't waver. "Time. It doesn't flow linearly here. It folds, bends, loops. The dome was built to test the limits of time perception — and memory. Emmett was one of the first to enter the sequence chamber. When he came back… he wasn't the same."
Elara moved closer to a screen showing a distorted version of Grayridge. The street she walked every day was there, but the sky was tinged violet, and the people moved like ghosts trapped in reverse. A shiver slid down her spine.
"My mom worked here?" she whispered.
"She helped develop the behavioral protocols," Merrin said. "Then she left. But not before leaving traces of what she knew."
"And us?" Jace asked, voice tense. "Why are we pulled into this?"
Merrin looked at them both with something like regret. "Because something in this place is waking up again. It started the moment you found the lockbox. The moment you two connected."
Elara swallowed hard. "So this isn't just coincidence."
"Nothing about this is."
Silence settled over the dome, heavy and thick like a storm about to break. Merrin moved to a control panel, fingers flying over the keys until a hidden door hissed open at the far end.
"What's behind there?" Jace asked, his voice rough.
"The final test chamber," Merrin said. "Where the truth waits. But be warned — the truth comes with a price."
Elara looked at Jace. He reached for her hand, squeezing gently.
"You don't have to do this," he said, voice low.
Her own voice was barely a whisper. "I have to."
Together, they stepped through the doorway — into the unknown.
And behind them, the door sealed with a metallic clang that echoed like a death knell.