"Sir… are you sure they'll come back?"
The soldier's voice was quiet, edged with uncertainty.
Vance did not move.
His silver-veined hand rested against the ruined wall, pulse faint but steady—an unspoken signal of power, of patience.
His gaze lingered on the wreckage. The ruins held answers. And so did they.
"They will," he replied simply, his voice smooth but unwavering.
And in the distance—hidden among the ruins—the first trace of movement.
Hidden within the fractured remains of a nearby building, Vance stood guard, still as stone.
His presence was calculated, unreadable—a shadow against the ruins.
Beyond the shattered archway of a window, three figures moved in the dark, their light faint—patterns glowing along their skin as they scoped their surroundings.
A soldier stiffened beside him.
"Sir, I think that's them approaching now! Awaiting orders, sir!"
His voice carried urgency, laced with the weight of expectation.
A salute.
Sharp. Precise.
Another soldier shifted.
"Should we break in—intercept the targets?"
Vance watched. Calculated. Waited.
The ruins whispered under the weight of the approaching intruders.
And then—his voice, smooth, unwavering.
"No."
A pause.
A flicker of silver pulsed through his veins.
"We wait."
"But sir? They're right there—ready for the taking!"
The soldier's voice was urgent. Too eager. Too naive.
Vance did not move. Did not blink.
And then—a low growl. Sharp. Cutting.
"Don't question me."
The words weren't loud. But they cracked the air like stone grinding against steel.
The soldier stiffened. His breath hitched in his throat.
Vance turned, slow. Measured. Intimidating.
His broad shoulders filled the space, his tactical uniform casting a dark silhouette against the ruins.
His hat rested among his thick mane, his figure impossibly large, drowning the soldier in shadow.
"Who are you?"
The soldier trembled. His footing faltered. For a moment—just a second—he thought he might collapse.
"Uh! Y-Yes, sir! We will—await your orders!"
His voice cracked. His stance unsteady. Barely holding enough strength to remain standing.
And then—Vance turned away.
The soldier staggered back. His pulse rapid. His fear visible.
As he marched toward the others, the squad straightened instantly, expressions locked in stiff obedience.
Their fear was apparent. Palpable. Unshakable.
Vance did not need to raise his voice. His presence alone was enough.
********************************************************
Celestia, Absynthe, and Synthena moved swiftly, navigating the crumbling remains of the building, their senses sharp, their search relentless.
The ruins groaned under their steps, fragments of stone cracking loose, tumbling into the dust-filled air.
Synthena kept her abilities at the ready, a shimmering pulse of blue radiating from her fingertips—her energy creating crystalline steps, forming paths through levels too unstable to cross otherwise.
With each motion, they reached places otherwise impossible to access, sifting through every corner.
Finally, they regrouped on a higher, seemingly stable level, the fractured walls enclosing them in faint shadows.
But the structure still held its uncertainty, weakened, fragile—a risk masked only by Synthena's stabilizing dust.
Her hands glowed, radiating energy as her patterns pulsed with faint blue light—crystalline protrusions flickering like the rhythmic pulse of an unseen force.
And as they stood—the silence settled.
For now, they had found footing. But the answers they sought—they remained just beyond reach.
"We've looked everywhere, and we still can't find anything worth accessing!"
Synthena's voice cut through the silence, frustration radiating from her as she threw the file to the ground—pages scattering, useless, empty.
They needed answers. Now.
The comet. The misty figure. The rock.
Something. Anything.
Her breath hitched, patterns flickering erratically across her hands—the stabilizing dust pulsing as if mirroring her frustration.
Celestia watched. Not just the dust—but the way the air carried the weight of something unresolved.
A whisper. A shift.
Not just their failure to find anything.
But something being hidden from them.
"Unless—"
Absynthe suddenly jumped in, realization flashing across her face.
"We've looked high and low, right?"
She glanced at Synthena, waiting for her to catch on.
Celestia frowned. "Yes, and?"
Absynthe crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows—impatient.
"Oh, come on! You're the smart one here—don't you get it?"
Celestia opened her mouth, about to argue—but then it hit her.
Her voice caught mid-sentence, realization sinking in.
Synthena paused, processing.
And then—they all spoke in unison.
"The basement!"
A beat.
Synthena hesitated. "But wait—what if there isn't a basement?"
Celestia's determination didn't waver.
"We're gonna have to find out. Synthena—build us a quick way down!"
Absynthe nodded in agreement.
Synthena summoned her blue dust, forming a sleek, glowing slide.
Celestia and Synthena slid down, fast, the dust humming beneath them.
Absynthe controlled her gravity, effortlessly floating downward—her silver veins flickering faintly.
The landing came quick.
Absynthe touched down lightly.
Synthena landed with ease.
Celestia—too fast.
She lost her grip—and crashed straight into Synthena, sending them both sprawling.
"Ouch!"
Celestia blinked, sitting on top of Synthena, who groaned beneath her.
Synthena exhaled, face buried in the dust.
Absynthe grinned, arms crossed.
"Ha! At this point, I'm gonna nickname you Landmark."
Celestia mocked synthena's own clumsiness, dusting herself off.
"Living furniture."
Her expression painted mischief—playful, teasing.
Synthena sighed dramatically, clicking her back as she stood.
"I need to stop making this a habit," she muttered, teary-eyed.
****************************************************************
Celestia, Absynthe, and Synthena swept through the lower floor, their eyes scanning the ruins—but nothing stood out.
Nothing they could see.
Synthena paused, her gaze flickering—something pulsed ,blue dust. A trail.
She moved instinctively, following it—past Celestia, past Absynthe.
Absynthe stiffened.
She had seen this before. The alley. The dust she couldn't see.
Something clicked.
Without hesitation, Absynthe followed. Celestia hesitated, but her gut pulled her forward.
Synthena reached the end of the trail—black dust from the monster's remains.
Absynthe's voice carried urgency. "Did you find something, Syn?"
Synthena's eyes locked onto the dust.
"Yeah. Right here. the blue dust from before!"
Celestia trotted beside her, confused.
"What dust? I don't see anything."
She searched the area, scanning frantically.
Absynthe exchanged a glance with Celestia.
"Wait… you can't see it either?"
Celestia's brows furrowed. "What is she talking about?"
Synthena grinned, arms swaying—eyes sparkling.
"Oooohhh—guess I'm the only one who can see it."
She twirled, dancing in a playful victory.
And then—impact.
"Ouch! Is it hurt-Synthena-day or something?"
She clutched her head, whining as Absynthe lowered her hand from a swift slap.
"Pull yourself together."
Celestia blinked, stunned.
Synthena sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of her head.
"Okay, okay."
Her voice softened as she refocused.
"The trail ends here. I have no idea where it goes next."
Absynthe scanned the floor, searching for something, anything.
And then—light.
Faint. Emanating from beneath the black dust.
A trap door. Hidden. Waiting.
"Over there."
Absynthe charged toward it, gripping the edge.
With one motion—she swung the door open.
Below—darkness. Thick, waiting, layered in secrets.
***********************************************************
The storage facility loomed around them, stretching into unending darkness—hallways lined with endless files, stacked in rows like untouched relics.
The weight of the space felt suffocating, sound muffled by the thick air.
"It's dark down here. We may need torches or something," Absynthe warned.
Celestia descended the last step of the ladder, adjusting her footing.
Synthena was already ahead, trying to focus her vision—but the shadows swallowed everything.
Celestia exhaled sharply, pointing at Absynthe.
"Aren't you bright enough? Just so you know—you can't hide properly at night. You're basically a portable light source, like a star in the sky."
Absynthe raised her arms, realizing her glow was truly undeniable.
"How would I ever be stealthy at night if I glow this much?"
Synthena nodded quickly.
"Yep, yep—she's totally right!"
Celestia turned toward her, unimpressed.
"Are you serious? Have you seen yourself?"
Synthena paused, glancing at her hand—realization kicking in.
"Yeah… but I'm not as bad as her. She's practically a treasure trove of gold."
Her eyes sparkled at the bright glow of Absynthe's presence.
Celestia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.
"I guess we'll just stay close to you, then."
She motioned toward Absynthe as they began trotting forward.
*******************************************************
A million whispers pounded against Absynthe's skull—sharp, unrelenting, like a thousand bullets ripping through silence.
Not voices. Not exactly.
Something else.
Something was pressing against the edges of her mind.
"This way… this way… do you see me? Follow me."
The words didn't just echo—they wrapped themselves around her consciousness, threading through her thoughts like unseen tendrils.
Her breath hitched.
She was the only one who could hear them.
This wasn't her imagination.
Something was calling her.
Something was waiting.
And somewhere in the facility—it echoed, pulsing through the walls like an unseen heartbeat.
"come find me .."