Chapter 7 – Sparks in the Dark
The rain finally stopped by morning, leaving Orion slick and shining under a pale sun.
Liora stood at her dorm window, watching droplets race each other down the glass.
Nine months.
The Black Spiral's message burned in her mind like a countdown etched into her bones.
The first outbreak begins in nine months.
In her last life, it had been more than a year before the first Rift cracked open.
Now the timeline was collapsing, folding in on itself like an over-wound spring.
Why is everything moving faster?
Her mark pulsed once—steady, questioning, almost alive.
Liora pressed a palm against her chest, feeling its warmth seep through her skin.
The Black Spiral had called it a tether.
Maybe this was the price of a second chance: the universe twisting to keep pace with her defiance.
Either way, she didn't have the luxury of fear.
If the world was sprinting toward its doom, she would have to run faster.
---
The Academy's combat arena smelled faintly of scorched metal and adrenaline.
Rows of training drones hovered in formation, each armed with blasters and shock spears.
Students crowded the observation deck, voices buzzing with excitement.
Today was the Rift Preparedness Simulation—
a mandatory test of reflexes, strategy, and will.
Liora had been waiting for this.
Her past self had failed spectacularly in this very arena, earning mocking laughs and a month of remedial training.
But that Liora had been naïve, unprepared.
This Liora carried two lifetimes of battle scars inside her head.
She tightened the straps of her combat gloves and stepped onto the platform.
The air shimmered as the drones activated, forming a deadly spiral of light.
"Begin," the instructor barked.
---
The first drone lunged.
Liora moved before thought, a fluid snap of muscle and memory.
Her blade—training steel, dull but weighted—sliced through the air in a clean arc.
The drone's spear glanced harmlessly off her guard.
Another came from behind.
She pivoted, using the first drone's frame as cover, striking its core with a burst of kinetic energy.
It fell with a sharp hiss.
The crowd's murmur rose in astonishment.
She didn't hear them.
Her world had narrowed to light, metal, and the rhythm of survival.
Each movement was a whisper of her past life—battles in broken streets, ambushes in burning towers, blood on her hands and teeth in her nightmares.
But here, now, she was faster.
Sharper.
Alive.
The final drone descended, sensors glowing crimson.
It fired a volley of stun bolts in a perfect kill pattern.
Liora ducked, rolled, and leapt—her blade striking the core with surgical precision.
The drone collapsed in a shower of sparks.
Silence.
Then thunderous applause.
Above the platform, the scoreboard flared:
Kane, Liora – Perfect Score. New Academy Record.
---
"Holy hell," a familiar voice said as she left the arena.
Kai stood near the exit, arms crossed, his smile equal parts admiration and disbelief.
"I knew you were good, but that was… insane."
Liora wiped sweat from her brow, keeping her breathing even.
"Just practice."
"Don't give me that." He stepped closer, eyes narrowing playfully. "You fought like you'd been training for years. Where did that come from?"
Her heart skipped.
If she let him too close, he would start to see through the cracks—the hidden reflexes, the instincts no nineteen-year-old should possess.
"Maybe I'm a fast learner," she said lightly.
Kai studied her for a long moment.
Then, to her surprise, he smiled—not the casual grin he wore like armor, but something warmer.
"Whatever it is, I'm glad you're on my side."
The words struck deeper than they should have.
In another life, he had said the same thing before betraying her.
Not again, she reminded herself.
Before she could reply, a slow clap echoed from behind.
"Well, well. The Academy's new golden girl."
Aron emerged from the shadows of the corridor, tablet in hand, eyes gleaming with sharp amusement.
"That was more than skill," he said, tilting his head. "That was survival instinct. The kind you don't learn from textbooks."
Kai bristled. "What are you implying?"
"Relax, hero. I'm complimenting her." Aron's gaze slid to Liora. "Some of us recognize talent when we see it."
Liora met his eyes, reading the unspoken message beneath his words.
Join me. Help me dig into the truths the government hides.
He was still testing her, still dangling secrets like bait.
She gave him nothing but a polite nod.
"I trained. That's all."
Aron's grin widened, but he didn't push.
"Training doesn't explain vision like that. But fine. Keep your mysteries. For now."
With a lazy wave, he disappeared into the crowd.
---
Later, alone in her room, Liora replayed the fight in her mind.
Every dodge, every strike, every flicker of energy inside her mark.
It had been more than muscle memory.
In the heat of battle, the mark had guided her—
a silent hum through her nerves, adjusting her timing, sharpening her instincts.
She flexed her fingers, staring at the faint glow beneath her skin.
The Black Spiral had called it a tether.
Was it also a weapon?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft ping of an incoming message.
Black Spiral:
We felt your pulse in the arena.
The mark grows stronger each time you fight.
Strength always demands a price.
Liora exhaled slowly, the words coiling through her like smoke.
A weapon, yes.
But weapons were never free.
She powered down the screen and lay back against the cool sheets, staring at the ceiling.
Nine months.
The world was rushing toward a darkness only she could see.
And with every spark of power the mark granted her, the tether tightened.
But if the universe thought it could bind her, it was wrong.
She would burn every spark, break every chain, and carve a future no one could predict.
Even if it meant igniting herself in the process.