The tower hummed with ancient energy, veins of blue light running like blood through its walls. Elior stood frozen before the holographic projection of Subject 75331—his supposed counterpart. The final thread in a web of destruction and prophecy.
The Seed.
Rael crossed his arms. "Her name is Lysara. She's not like us. Not entirely."
"What does that mean?" Elior asked, still staring at the static-laced image. A girl with silver hair and markings like burned circuits down her cheek. Her eyes glowed with something… unfamiliar.
"She wasn't made in the labs," Rael explained. "She was found."
"Found?" Nara echoed. "Outside the Protocol?"
Rael nodded. "She was discovered deep in the Temporal Abyss, surrounded by collapsed timelines—ones that shouldn't exist. The scientists who found her said she spoke languages from civilizations no one remembers. Some called her a paradox."
Elior's breath hitched. "Why is she still free?"
"She vanished before they could reclaim her," Rael said, "and she's hiding in a place even the Protocol avoids."
He tapped the coordinates glowing on the map. A blinking red zone pulsed at the outer rim of the known continuum.
> THE FRACTURED VEIL.
Nara cursed under her breath. "That region's temporal chaos. No navigation, no laws of physics. Not even the strongest stabilizers work there."
"And that's why she chose it," Rael replied. "Because only another paradox can survive there long enough to find her."
Elior stepped back from the map. The connection forming in his mind was undeniable. She was the next phase. The next key.
"She's waiting for me."
Rael gave a slow nod. "But you need to understand—she's not a savior. The Seed is unstable. She warps the timeline around her unconsciously. The closer you get to her, the more reality will unravel."
Nara's face hardened. "We've already seen what Elior's presence does. Together, they could tear the entire continuum apart."
"Or," Rael said softly, "they could rewrite it."
A long silence stretched.
Elior broke it. "I need to reach her. Whatever the cost."
Rael looked at him for a long time. "Then you'll need this."
He reached into his satchel and pulled out a shard of metal etched with glowing runes. It pulsed in Elior's palm the moment he touched it.
"What is it?" he asked.
"A key," Rael said. "Not just to the Veil. But to her."
Elior felt something twist inside him—like a compass realigning. A pull he hadn't felt since the awakening. His fingers curled around the shard.
"I'll find her," he whispered.
Rael stepped back, expression unreadable. "Then be ready. Because once you cross into the Veil, there's no turning back. No anchor to hold you."
"What about you?" Nara asked.
"I'll draw the Protocol's gaze," Rael said with a half-smile. "Give you time. But don't waste it. She's the future. And if they reach her before you do…"
He let the sentence hang.
Elior and Nara packed quickly. With Rael's guidance, they exited the Derelict Zone and slipped into the temporal stream again. This time, their path led toward chaos. Toward the Fractured Veil.
Hours passed. Stars blurred. Systems failed and recalibrated. And finally, the edge of the known universe yawned open before them.
The Veil was not a place.
It was a wound.
A swirling scar in space, colors that defied logic spinning and collapsing upon themselves. Screams echoed in the static. Time fractured in layers. Elior stepped toward it, the shard in his hand glowing brighter with every heartbeat.
"You ready?" Nara asked, one hand on her blade.
"No," Elior said, voice steady. "But she's waiting."
And with that, they leapt into the storm.