The rain stopped the day Mara woke up.
Redhaven smelled of wet metal and gun oil, but the storm clouds had finally broken. Pale sunlight leaked through the cracks in the walls, finding its way into the infirmary. The light didn't make things brighter — just more real.
Oz sat by her bed, his chin resting on folded arms. He hadn't left her side for three days.
Her breath was steady now, the shallow rasp replaced by something stronger. The color had started to return to her cheeks. When she finally stirred, opening her eyes, Oz nearly dropped the cup of water he'd been holding.
"Hey," she croaked. "You look like hell."
He smiled despite himself. "You should see yourself."
"Smartmouth," she murmured, trying to sit up. "Status report."
"Team's okay," he said. "Linnea's fine. Tomas is fixing the truck. Derek…"He hesitated. "We buried him by the wall."
Mara looked away. Her hand clenched the blanket, knuckles white. "He deserved better."
"He knew the risk," Oz said quietly. "He went out fighting."
They sat in silence for a while. Outside, the sound of hammering echoed from the lower sector — rebuilding, repairing, pretending the world could still function.
Mara's voice broke the silence. "And the Carrier?"
"Dead," Oz said. "You finished it. But there was… something else."
Her eyes narrowed. "The light."
He nodded. "The golden light. I saw it up close before I passed out. It wasn't like the crystals. It felt… alive."
"What do you mean?"
"It spoke to me," he said, hesitating as the words came. "Not like a voice — more like a thought that wasn't mine. It said I could change the world."
Mara exhaled slowly. "You're sure you didn't hallucinate?"
"I'm sure," he said. "It left something behind."
He reached into his Dimensional Space and pulled it out.
A shard — no bigger than his thumb — glowing faintly gold, smooth like glass but warm to the touch. It pulsed with light, slow and steady, like a heartbeat.
Mara stared at it. "That came from the nest?"
"Yes."
"And you kept it."
"I didn't mean to," Oz said. "It came with me. Like it wanted to."
She frowned. "Oz, that thing might be radioactive. Or worse — viral."
"It's not," he said. "I checked. No contamination readings. No energy decay. It doesn't drain me like crystals do."
"Then what does it do?"
He looked down at the shard. The light reflected in his eyes, faintly gold."I don't know. But it feels connected. Like it's part of whatever's behind the zombies."
Later that day, Oz stood outside the infirmary, watching the sky turn orange. The air carried the scent of burned plastic from the recycling furnaces. People moved along the market lanes, bartering, arguing, laughing. The same patterns, the same survival.
But since the Carrier battle, something in Redhaven had changed.When Oz walked through the base, people turned to look. Not with admiration — with curiosity.They'd heard what happened. A twelve-year-old boy had helped kill a Tier-3. Rumors grew faster than truth.
"Hero kid.""Dimensional freak.""Lab material."
He'd heard them all.
Commander Holt summoned him the next morning.
The command post was built from an old power substation, walls lined with rusted pipes and monitors that barely worked. Holt sat behind a desk covered in reports, his uniform spotless despite the grime.
"Oz Giggs," the Commander said, his voice like gravel. "Take a seat."
Oz obeyed. Mara sat in the corner, still bandaged but upright. Her eyes warned him to be careful.
Holt leaned forward. "I read the field report. You showed… unique initiative during the Carrier operation."
Oz stayed silent.
Holt studied him. "Your ability — Dimensional Space — has proven invaluable. But there are discrepancies in the record."
Mara's jaw tightened. "Discrepancies?"
Holt ignored her. "Witness accounts mention energy phenomena not consistent with spatial storage. Blue light, visual distortions, the monster freezing mid-attack."He paused. "You care to explain that?"
Oz met his gaze. "Dimensional Space reacts to external energy. Sometimes it… ripples."
Holt's eyes narrowed. "Ripples."
"Yes, sir."
The Commander didn't look convinced. "We've lost enough people to unknowns, boy. I can't have one living under my roof."
Mara cut in. "He's my responsibility."
Holt turned his attention to her. "He's our responsibility, Giggs. The Council's already asking questions. They want him evaluated by Science Division."
"No," Mara said flatly.
"That's not your call."
"It's exactly my call," she shot back. "You start poking and prodding him, you'll lose what makes him valuable."
Holt stared at her for a long time, then sighed. "You've got two weeks. Keep him quiet. After that, he goes under observation. Dismissed."
That night, Mara said little. She cleaned her knives with methodical care, movements sharp, deliberate.
Oz watched her from the cot. "He doesn't trust me."
"He doesn't trust anyone," Mara said. "But he's not wrong. You scare people, Oz. Not because of what you did — but because of what you might do."
"I don't want power," he said. "I just want to understand it."
She looked at him — really looked — and the fire in her eyes softened. "That's exactly what scares them."
When she slept, Oz slipped out.
He made his way through the silent base, past the market, past the fences, to the edge of the old train depot — now just a crater surrounded by barricades.Moonlight spilled over the broken ground. The air still smelled faintly of burned flesh.
He sat by the crater's edge and took out the golden shard.
Its glow pulsed brighter in the moonlight, like it recognized the place. When he focused on it, the edges of reality shimmered.His Dimensional Space stirred in response — the inner world inside him rippling, reacting.
He took out a low-grade zombie crystal, pale blue and faintly cracked.When he brought it near the shard, the crystal vibrated.The blue light began to bleed into gold.
His breath caught. "What…?"
The crystal's glow shifted completely, its shape liquefying for a moment before hardening again — but now it pulsed with a faint golden hue.He could feel it — energy, pure and stable, flowing evenly without the usual static of corruption.
He stored it inside his Space. The warehouse inside his mind brightened instantly, the gold ripple spreading across every surface, cleansing the faint darkness that had always lingered there.
Oz stared at his hands, trembling.
The shard could purify corruption. It could stabilize zombie crystals.
It could change everything.
He didn't sleep that night.
He experimented until dawn — slowly, methodically, terrified and fascinated. The shard responded to willpower, to focus. It didn't drain him. It fed his dimensional abilities, expanding the Space, sharpening the Peek.When he closed his eyes, he could see the web of dimensions more clearly than ever — worlds floating like lanterns in an endless night.
By morning, his mind was buzzing with possibility.
If he could learn to use it right, he could refine crystals safely.He could strengthen awakeners without mutation or decay.He could rebuild what the world lost.
But even as he thought it, another feeling crawled up his spine — a whisper, soft as breath.
You are not the only one who sees.
He turned, eyes scanning the shadows. No one was there.
Only the gold shard, faintly pulsing in his palm.
The next day, Redhaven's mood had shifted. The Council was in session. Word had spread about the Carrier's fall — and about Mara's team bringing back a golden anomaly.
Mara returned from a meeting with dark circles under her eyes.
"They know," she said, voice low. "Someone leaked it."
"About the shard?"
She nodded. "Holt's been ordered to deliver it to Science Division in three days."
Oz's heart pounded. "They can't. It's not a weapon — it's alive."
"They don't care. They think it's the next step in weaponizing awakeners."
"What do we do?"
Mara hesitated. "Nothing. Yet. We play along. If they think we're hiding something, they'll take it by force."
Oz clenched his fists. "I won't let them."
Mara's eyes hardened. "You don't have a choice, Oz. We're not strong enough to fight them. Not yet."
He looked at her, jaw set. "Then I'll become strong enough."
That night, he went back to the crater again.The shard's glow was stronger now, as if feeding off his resolve.
When he focused, his Dimensional Peek opened on its own — effortlessly this time. The stars unfolded around him, layers of dimensions shimmering like veils.He looked deeper, past the familiar mists of the cultivation realms, past the magic towers, past the future cities — deeper into the golden radiance he'd seen in his vision.
And there, in that endless sea of light, he saw eyes.
Dozens of them.Watching him.
Then, a voice — cold, alien, and curious — whispered through the dimensions.
You carry our seed, little walker.We will see what kind of god you become.
The vision shattered.
Oz fell to his knees, gasping. His hands burned, the shard glowing like molten sunlight in his palm.
He looked down at it, breathing hard.
The light had changed.No longer soft gold.Now it pulsed — like something inside was awake.
By morning, the golden shard had dimmed, but Oz hadn't slept.He sat at the edge of his cot, staring at his trembling hands. Every time he blinked, he saw the eyes.Not human eyes.Dimensional eyes. Cold. Endless. Curious.
He could still hear the voice:You carry our seed, little walker.
Whatever "they" were — they were aware of him now.And that terrified him more than death ever could.
Redhaven woke under a weak sun. The air smelled of rust and wet cloth.The announcement came through the loudspeakers at 0800 hours — Commander Holt's voice, steady and formal:
"Attention all personnel. By order of the Redhaven Council, anomaly designation 'Golden Fragment' will be transferred to Science Division at 1900 hours today. All scavenger units are to report inventory and maintain readiness. That is all."
Oz felt his stomach turn cold.
They were going to take it.They were going to lock it away, dissect it, maybe even destroy it.
He looked up at Mara, who was tightening her gear at the table.
"We can't let them have it," he said.
Mara didn't look at him. "They're not asking."
"You saw what it can do. It purifies crystals — it could save people."
"And it could kill them just as easily," she shot back. "We don't know what it is, Oz."
"I do," he said, louder than he meant to. "I felt it. It's not evil. It's… alive. It's connected to the dimensions."
Mara finally looked at him. "You sound like one of those cult scavengers from the wastelands. The ones who think the infection was a gift."
"It's not infection," Oz said quietly. "It's something older. Something that existed before the collapse."
Mara slammed her gloves onto the table. "Stop. Just stop. You think you're the first person to see patterns in the dark? You think you can fix what broke the world?"
He said nothing.
Her voice softened. "I just want you to survive, Oz."
He met her eyes. "That's all I've ever done."
At 1600 hours, soldiers came.
Six of them, wearing black exo-frames and visors that hissed with recycled air. Science Division.Their commander — a thin man with glassy eyes and a calm smile — introduced himself as Dr. Calen Voss.
"Osborn Giggs," he said, his voice polite, clinical. "You've caused quite the stir."
Mara stepped forward. "You'll speak to me."
Voss ignored her, eyes fixed on Oz. "The Council has ordered full analysis of your discovery. The artifact will be moved to our containment wing, and you will be examined for residual exposure."
Oz's jaw tightened. "It's not dangerous."
Voss smiled faintly. "That's what every subject says before they dissolve."
Mara's hand went to her knife. "Watch your tone."
The guards raised their rifles instantly.
Holt arrived before blood could answer. His presence was a wall of cold authority.
"That's enough," the Commander barked. "Doctor, you'll follow protocol. The boy isn't a prisoner."
Voss's smile didn't move. "No, Commander. He's a specimen."
Holt's eyes went hard. "He's an Awakener. And this is my base."
The doctor bowed slightly. "Of course. Then perhaps you'll deliver the artifact yourself?"
Holt turned to Oz. "You have until nineteen hundred. Don't make me come for it."
The sun was setting when the team gathered in the hangar.
Linnea was cleaning a blade that had once belonged to Derek. Tomas sat silently, chewing on a ration bar without tasting it. The mood was heavy — not grief, but resignation.
"They're taking it tonight," Linnea said. "I heard from a runner. Science Division's already prepping containment."
Oz nodded slowly. "I know."
"You're not going to let them, are you?" Tomas asked quietly.
"No."
Mara sighed. "Oz—"
"No," he repeated. "If they take it, we lose everything. You saw what it can do. It made the crystals stable — clean. No side effects. No decay. That could rebuild Redhaven."
"Or destroy it," Linnea murmured.
Oz looked at her. "When was the last time anything we did wasn't dangerous?"
She didn't answer.
Mara rubbed her temples. "You're talking treason."
"I'm talking about survival," Oz said. "Real survival — not just scavenging and dying slower."
He reached into his Dimensional Space and pulled out the shard.
It glowed faintly, the golden pulse reflecting in everyone's eyes.Even Mara's breath hitched for a second.
"I can hide it," he said. "No one would ever find it. Not even Holt."
Linnea's eyes flicked between them. "How deep can you store it?"
"I don't know," Oz said honestly. "But the Space reacts to it. Expands around it. It's… growing."
Tomas frowned. "Growing?"
"Like it's alive."
Mara looked at him, torn between fear and pride. "You're not ready for this, Oz."
He met her gaze. "I don't have a choice."
When the soldiers came at 1900, the hangar was empty.
The guards searched the quarters, the trucks, even the medbay. Holt arrived five minutes later, fury cutting through his composure.
"Where is he?"
No one answered.
Far beyond Redhaven's walls, down in the river valley where the old world's highway sank beneath the mud, Oz stood alone under the broken remains of a billboard.The shard's light pulsed against his palm, golden reflections rippling across the puddles.
He'd left everything behind except his staff and a bag of supplies. The night air was cold, thick with mist.
He looked toward the horizon — the ruins stretching endlessly, skeletal towers leaning into fog.
He whispered, "Show me."
The shard responded.Light spread from his hand, golden veins crawling across the ground like living roots.The air shimmered — then split open.
A rift — not like the chaotic tears he'd seen before. This one was controlled, stable. A doorway of pure light.
His Dimensional Peek activated on instinct, and for the first time, he saw beyond all layers.
Not the cultivation realms, not the magic towers, not the future cityscapes — but a world made entirely of gold and shadow.A place where everything breathed in rhythm, where light had weight, where sound bent around silence.
He took one step forward — then stopped.
Behind him, a voice rang out.
"Don't you dare."
He turned. Mara stood there, soaked from the rain, her pistol trembling in her hand. Her eyes glowed faintly orange from her awakened power.
"You think I'd let you vanish into another world without saying goodbye?"
Oz smiled faintly. "I wasn't leaving forever."
She walked toward him, fury breaking under fear. "You don't know what that thing's doing to you. Look at yourself — you're shaking."
"I'm not scared," he said.
"I am," she whispered.
He hesitated. "You always said survival isn't living. Maybe this is what comes next."
She stared at the rift, the light washing over her face. "And if it kills you?"
"Then at least I'll die finding out what's real."
For a long moment, neither spoke.The golden light hummed softly, like the heartbeat of another universe.
Then Mara reached into her pocket and tossed him something — a small pouch of refined crystals."For when you come back," she said. "If you come back."
He caught it, surprised. "You're not stopping me?"
"I never could," she said, a sad smile ghosting across her lips. "Just… don't forget where home is."
Oz nodded slowly.
He looked at the rift one last time — at the world beyond it, glowing with impossible beauty — and stepped through.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then — everything.
Light. Sound. Movement.The world unfolded like an ocean of stars, golden waves rippling outward in all directions. The ground beneath him was not solid but responsive, like walking on light that remembered his shape.
He could feel power here — pure, unfiltered dimensional energy. His body hummed with it. His mind expanded, touching thoughts that weren't thoughts, reaching places that weren't places.
He saw echoes of himself — hundreds of them, scattered across realities, each walking different paths: one with fire, one with steel, one with nothing but darkness.Each one turned toward him in unison.
You are the first to return.The shard was never meant to remain in flesh.You were chosen to carry the fracture.
Oz fell to one knee, clutching his head as visions poured through him — galaxies collapsing, dimensions folding into each other, a golden storm devouring worlds.And in the heart of that storm, he saw something vast — a figure made of light and ruin, watching him with infinite patience.
We are the Architects, the voice said. You are our echo.
"I'm not your echo," Oz whispered. "I'm human."
You were.But the shard chose you. And now, through you, the walls between worlds will thin.
He looked down at his hands — they were glowing faintly, cracks of gold spreading along his veins.
"No…" he whispered. "I didn't ask for this."
No one ever does.But every god begins the same way — by defying their own fear.
The light intensified — blinding, consuming.Oz screamed as the golden world folded around him, pouring through his body, through his mind, through his soul.
And then — silence.
When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the wet ground outside the rift. The light was gone. The sky was gray again.
Mara knelt beside him, shaking his shoulders. "Oz! Oz!"
He coughed, eyes unfocused. Gold veins still glimmered faintly under his skin, pulsing like liquid fire.
She stared at him in horror. "What did you do?"
He looked past her — at the sky, where thin cracks of golden light were spreading through the clouds, faint but visible.
"I think," he said hoarsely, "I opened the door."
Far above Redhaven, hidden behind the clouds, something ancient stirred.The dimensional barrier rippled like water.
And somewhere in the depths of that endless golden realm, the Architects watched their new creation take his first breath as something more.