The warehouse screamed.
Not with sound—but with vibration, as if the structure itself were recoiling from the rift tearing open at its heart. Concrete shuddered beneath Jax Voss's boots as he burst from the vault corridor, satchel heavy with echo shards slamming against his side.
Behind him—
Renn.
Blood streaked down the scavenger's arm, dripping onto the floor in dark, freezing splashes. His face was twisted—greed rotting into fury, desperation burning behind his eyes.
The rift breathed.
Cold fog poured through the warehouse like the exhale of a buried god, ethereal tendrils writhing through the air. One brushed Jax's coat—
—and something tugged at his thoughts.
A memory slipped. Just for a heartbeat.
"Give it up, Voss!" Renn snarled, blade flashing as he lunged. "The shards. The flask. All of it! My contact's paying triple for that glowing junk!"
Jax spun.
The knife passed where his spine had been.
His body moved before his mind caught up—anticipating the swing, flowing with the shadows instead of against them. He landed lightly, boots skidding across frost-dusted concrete.
Traitor.
The smirk returned, sharp and humorless.
Partners were just thieves waiting for the right price.
They crashed into each other between stacked crates. Renn pressed hard, slashing with reckless strength. Jax parried with his probe-tool, metal screaming as sparks scattered.
Pain flared in his ribs—bruised, maybe cracked—but he ignored it.
The shadows at his feet thickened.
Without thinking, Jax reached.
Darkness surged from a nearby corner, liquid and eager, snapping up around Renn's face like a living veil.
"What—?!" Renn staggered, clawing blindly.
Jax drove a knee into his gut.
Renn folded with a grunt—but his blade still caught flesh, slicing Jax's arm. Blood welled hot, then froze almost instantly in the rift-chilled air.
Jax hissed.
The scar on his cheek burned like a brand.
This is why I fly solo.
A tendril lashed out.
It brushed Renn's shoulder.
His rage vanished mid-breath.
"…Who—?" Renn murmured, eyes glassy. Confusion replaced fury. A memory had been taken.
Jax barked a harsh laugh. "Lose something? Like loyalty?"
He shoved past Renn and ran.
Alarms wailed in the distance—thin, distorted. Patrols. Rift watchers. Too late to matter.
Jax burst into the open.
The outskirts exploded into view: ramshackle hovels welded from scrap, fire barrels guttering weakly, figures scrambling as the rift's presence rolled outward. Towering ruins loomed above, skeletal and half-buried, casting jagged shadows beneath the eternal twilight.
Jax sprinted.
Pain stabbed through his side with every breath, but he didn't slow.
Can't run forever alone.
The thought slipped in uninvited.
Parents gone.
Partners betraying.
Endless cold.
Behind him, Renn stumbled out of the warehouse, roaring, "Voss! You're dead!"
Jax glanced back, teeth bared in a grin that hurt. "Catch me first."
He cut into a narrow alley. Rift watchers flinched aside—hollow-eyed, scarred. An old woman shouted, "Rift's brewing! Get clear!"
No time.
Jax vaulted a low fence, landing wrong. White pain detonated through his ribs.
Renn was closer than he should've been.
"That flask!" Renn screamed. "It's Awakened tech!"
The flask vibrated violently.
Run… faster…
Jax didn't hesitate.
He yanked it free and uncorked it.
A shadow peeled off a leaning ruin and was dragged inside.
Power slammed through him.
His legs blurred. Snow exploded behind him as the world stretched, speed doubling in a breath. Wind screamed past his ears.
The scar on his cheek burned hotter—pain braided with strength.
Connected, he realized.
The scar. The flask. The shadows. Me.
Renn faltered, distance widening—but desperation drove him. He veered toward a cluster of rift watchers.
"He's infected!" Renn shouted. "Spreading fever!"
A net snapped open.
"Smart," Jax muttered. "Rat."
He tore through the ruins—frozen streets cracked like veins, abandoned vehicles entombed in ice. The borrowed speed bled away, leaving his lungs on fire.
Jax skidded behind a toppled cryo-pod, chest heaving. Blood stained the snow.
Renn appeared moments later, blade raised.
"End of the line."
Jax reached again.
A shadow snapped out from beneath the pod, hooking Renn's ankle.
The scavenger hit the ground hard. His knife flew.
Jax was on him instantly—knee to spine, fist slamming into Renn's jaw.
"This," Jax growled, "is why I don't do partners."
He ripped Renn's satchel free, reclaiming half the shards. "Stay down."
Renn spat blood—and laughed.
"You're marked," he wheezed. "Like that scar. They hunt things like you."
Jax froze.
"…They?"
Renn's grin was all teeth and spite. "Too late."
Sirens wailed louder.
The temperature dropped—wrong, bone-deep cold.
Snow shifted.
Reality strained.
Jax backed away as the air ahead tore open.
A rift—wide, hungry.
Void Wraiths stirred within, whispers slithering across the wind.
Memories… feed…
Jax pressed himself against the cryo-pod, clutching the flask as tendrils reached. One brushed his mind—
—and his parents' faces blurred.
"No," he snarled, ripping the cork free.
Shadows flooded in.
He tore loose.
The rift screamed.
Jax ran—sirens behind him, whispers ahead, shadows clinging like claws.
Cynicism hardened around his heart.
Solo. Always solo.
But fear whispered back—
For how long?
Behind him, the rift widened.
The ambush had begun.