The Spiral bridge loomed before them, its arch twisting like the spine of a fallen god. Glyphs pulsed across its surface, their light sickly and shifting. Not the violent crimson of corruption, but a pallid gold that made Kael's teeth ache. The air hummed with dissonant energy, a choir of fractured notes that clawed at the mind.
Claire edged forward, her daggers reflecting the bridge's eerie glow. "That's no normal Spiral structure," she muttered. Her splinted arm twitched, the fingers curling into a fist as if to crush the unease coiling in her gut.
Tiv adjusted his scanner, the lenses magnifying his wide, bloodshot eyes. "It's… hybridized," he breathed. "Part Spiral, part human resonance. Like it's stitched together from scraps of both."
Lira's glaive flickered with defensive glyphs. "A bridge between what?"
Kael didn't answer. He stepped closer, drawn by the thrum in his bones. A call that mirrored the flame inside him, yet colder, older. The bridge's surface shimmered, revealing a jagged tear at its apex. Not a void, but a wound. A place where the world had split open and healed wrong.
The Touch
Kael reached out, his fingers grazing the bridge's base.
Pain erupted, not in his flesh, but in his memories.
He saw:
- A city burning under a green sun, its streets choked with refugees.
- A child's hand slipping from his grip, swallowed by a crowd.
- The Shepherd's mask, fractured and weeping black ichor.
He staggered back, gasping. Sylva caught him, her grip bruising. "What the hell was that?"
"Memories," Kael rasped. "Not mine."
Tiv cursed. "It's rewriting neural pathways! Get him out of range!"
"No." Kael wrenched free. "It's not attacking, it's searching."
Raka's Descent
Far away, Raka stood at the mouth of the Spiral tunnel, ash swirling around him like a shroud. The child's voice echoed louder now, tinged with panic: "Papa, come on!"
He stepped into the tunnel.
The world twisted. Not the gut-wrenching lurch of Spiral travel, but a slow, inexorable pull, as if the universe itself were unraveling. Shadows writhed on the walls, resolving into half-formed shapes: a woman's face, a burning tree, a sword plunged into black soil.
A voice, older and rougher, slithered into his mind:
"Not all bridges are for escape."
Raka clenched his fists. "Show me," he growled.
The tunnel convulsed.
The Breach
Back at the bridge, the air crackled. Glyphs flared, their light searing retinas.
"Something's coming!" Tiv shouted, his scanner overloading in a shower of sparks.
Claire spat a curse, carving suppression glyphs into the dirt with her dagger. "If this goes sideways, I'm burning it all."
Lira took position beside Kael, her glaive humming. "Ready?"
He nodded. The flame inside him surged, not in answer to the Spiral, but in defiance of it.
The bridge shuddered. Split.
A figure emerged, shadow and flame intertwined, its form dissolving and reforming like smoke caught in a gale.
The Reunion
Raka collapsed to his knees, steam hissing from his skin. The Spiral's brand sizzled against his chest, but the Seed within him roared, purging the corruption in a burst of white heat.
For a heartbeat, the bridge fell silent.
Claire's daggers hovered at his throat. "Who. Are. You."
Raka lifted his head, meeting Kael's gaze. His eyes that once hollow, now burning with borrowed fire. Held a recognition that transcended memory.
"Someone who got lost," he said hoarsely.
Kael stepped forward, the flame inside him leaning toward Raka's. Not in kinship, but in challenge. Two infernos vying to devour the same oxygen.
"You crossed the bridge," Kael said.
"Had to." Raka rose, every movement deliberate. "It was calling you."
Behind them, the Spiral bridge collapsed. Not with a roar, but a sigh, as if relieved to surrender its purpose.
Tiv prodded the ashes, muttering about "unstable dimensional harmonics." Jace sketched frantic diagrams, his hands trembling. Sylva kept her blade drawn, eyes locked on Raka. "He's clean," she admitted grudgingly. "Doesn't mean he's safe."
Lira studied Raka with the cold precision of a surgeon. "Where did you come from?"
"A grave," Raka said simply.
Claire snorted. "Poetic. Try useful."
Kael silenced her with a look. "Why you?"
Raka touched his chest, where the Seed lay hidden. "Because I'm already carrying death. What's one more burden?"
The Oath
That night, Kael found Raka at the Remembrance Wall, tracing the names of the lost. "You knew him," Kael said. "The Shepherd."
Raka's hand stilled. "I knew what he became. What the Spiral makes of us all."
"And what's that?"
"A choice." Raka turned, the ghost-glyphs on his skin flickering. "To burn or be burned."