?"Who is Cindy?"

  Alex's question came out as a breathless whisper, broken by the effort of supporting Tony's dead weight.

  ?"A little girl," Cristy replied, eyes scanning the deserted corridor. "I met her in the library. She seemed harmless. A bored child."

  "And what does she have to do with... with this?" Alex jutted his chin toward their friend, who was gasping for air, his gaze lost in a private horror.

  "She has a mental frequency," Cristy hissed. Anger swelled inside her. Cold anger. "She told me she can manipulate memory. Erase memories. Change them."

  ?Alex felt a shiver down his spine. "Where is she now?"

  "History sector. She's there every afternoon."

  ?Tony, who was slowly sliding down the wall, looked up. His eyes were dark, bottomless pits.

  "Why..." he croaked, voice thick with saliva and fear. "Why would a little girl do this to me?"

  ?As he spoke, Tony's hand had an involuntary spasm. It slid down his side, fingers searching the pocket of his jeans like a nervous tic.

  He felt a dull vibration against his thigh. A single beat, warm and irregular.

  He ignored it, archiving it as just another tremor of his burned-out nerves.

  ?Cristy leaned over him, grabbing his arm.

  "We'll ask her tomorrow. But right now we need to disappear. If security notices us standing here, they'll come check."

  Alex nodded. "To the room. Now."

  ?They dragged him away. Tony's feet dragged on the polished linoleum, a rustle that sounded like a scream in the silence of the corridor. They reached the room, entered, and the door clicked shut heavily.

  The world and its threats remained outside, separated by two inches of steel.

  ?They laid him on the bed. Tony collapsed onto the mattress like an emptied sack, skin damp with cold sweat. His right hand remained contracted, fingers clawed near his pocket, in an unconscious defense.

  Alex stood looking at him, arms crossed, biting his lip until he tasted iron.

  "This changes everything," he murmured. "It will slow the plan down. We needed training to replicate the Union, to fool Tower Beta. But look at him... he can't even stand. How are we supposed to synchronize if he's in pieces?"

  ?They remained silent. The hum of the ventilation was the only sound, constant, indifferent.

  "I wonder if they're talking about it outside," Cristy said, staring at her own hands. "About our disappearance. I wonder what our parents are thinking."

  ?Alex's expression, until that moment tense and calculating, cracked.

  "My mom..." His voice broke in his throat. "She must be dead from grief by now. The house is already so empty after dad left. I'm the only thing that makes her turn on the lights at night. If she thinks she's lost me too..."

  He covered his eyes with a hand, stifling a trembling breath.

  ?Cristy stood up and squeezed his shoulder.

  "We're getting out of here, Alex. I promise you."

  ?Alex looked up. There was no hope, only a bitter lucidity.

  "And then? Once we're out of this fortress... who will protect us from Lydia? Who will protect us from TerraCore?"

  ?"We'll find a way," Cristy replied. She had to believe it. "Like we always have."

  ?Alex sighed. He sat next to Tony, who had slipped into a restless sleep. He placed his hand over his friend's, seeking contact, a confirmation that they were still a team.

  Cristy stepped closer and placed her hand over Alex's.

  ?It was instantaneous.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  As soon as the circle closed, the air in the room changed density.

  But it wasn't like the other times.

  There was no warm light, no golden harmony.

  ?They felt an energy pass through their bodies, but it was wrong.

  It was a vortex pulling downward. An open drain.

  Tony's energy wasn't seeking alignment. It was absorbing. It wasn't hunger; it was as if a switch had been flipped, throwing wide a dam.

  Alex felt the breath freeze in his lungs. Cristy gasped, knees buckling, as the warmth abandoned her through the palm of her hand like blood from a wound.

  It was a physical sensation. Brutal.

  ?HAAAA!

  Tony woke up suddenly with a deep, hoarse inhale, like a drowning man breaking the surface. His eyes flew open.

  In his pocket, invisible and mute, the quartz had a single spasm.

  Alex and Cristy yanked their hands back, stumbling backward.

  ?"What... what happened?" Alex exclaimed, holding his wrist. His heart was beating wildly, but weakly. He felt hollowed out.

  ?Cristy was leaning against the wall, pale. She looked at Tony with a mix of relief and repulsion.

  "The Union... didn't complete," she whispered. "It collapsed toward him."

  ?Tony sat up. The deathly pallor was gone. His cheeks had regained color, his breathing was calm, powerful. His eyes were clear, alert, almost electric.

  "I feel better," Tony said, looking at his hands in surprise. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the strength flowing under his skin. "I feel... charged."

  ?"I believe you," Alex said, dropping into the chair. "You fed on us."

  "What?"

  "Your body took our energy," Cristy said. Her voice came out flat, clinical. "You needed it. You took it."

  ?Alex gave a bitter smile. "Backup batteries."

  ?Cristy didn't smile.

  "I don't like it," she murmured. "It felt... wrong."

  ?BUM. BUM. BUM.

  Three sharp knocks on the door. It wasn't a request.

  The three jumped to their feet. Alex went to open it, cautious.

  ?On the threshold stood a young guard, her gray uniform impeccable.

  "You are summoned," she announced, voice metallic.

  "By who?" Alex asked. "Silas?"

  "No. A member of the Council of Elders requests your presence. Immediately."

  ?The teenagers exchanged a glance. The Council.

  They stepped out into the corridor, leaving behind the safety of the room to walk toward a new level of the nightmare.

  ?The guard escorted them through a wing of the building they had never seen. The air was different here: no ozone, no old paper. The smell of rain and clean metal.

  They stopped in front of a sliding door. The guard opened it and motioned for them to enter.

  ?The room was circular.

  Dove-gray acoustic panels absorbed every sound. The silence was absolute, dense. Light entered from a skylight in the ceiling, natural and cold.

  "Wait here."

  ?They stood alone in front of a curved, massive desk, carved from a single block of pale ash wood intersected by a vein of molten lead. A silver wound in the living wood.

  ?A few moments later, a side door opened.

  The man who entered was Silas's age, but had an opposite presence. Lean, athletic build. Very short salt-and-pepper hair. A surgical scar ran up from his neck and stopped under his right eye, pulling the skin slightly when he hinted at a smile.

  ?And he was smiling. A tired, but firm smile.

  "Welcome," he said, deep voice. "Apologies for the wait and the escort's manners. Courtesy has become a rare commodity here."

  He walked around the desk but didn't sit. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms.

  "I am Valeryk Callahan. Member of the Council."

  ?His gaze passed over Alex, then Cristy. Finally, it settled on Tony.

  It stopped.

  It wasn't curiosity. It was a weighing.

  "I had you brought here because the Council is afraid of you. They fear our secret might be discovered."

  ?"They're keeping us prisoner out of fear?" Tony asked.

  ?Valeryk nodded gravely, drumming his fingers on the wood.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  "Fear has overwhelmed them. They have built walls upon walls, becoming their own jailers. The Tower system has become a gilded trap."

  ?"We noticed," Alex murmured.

  ?"I imagine so. You're sharp." Valeryk's face hardened. "But there is a reason for today's emergency. Stonemouth is falling. Disappearances are increasing. Filaments are appearing in safe zones."

  He looked at the skylight, as if he could see the sky beyond the bulletproof glass.

  "Today, four of our best guards were killed during a patrol. They didn't stand a chance."

  ?Ice.

  "What are the Filaments?" Cristy asked.

  ?Valeryk stared at her.

  "Echoes. White noise. Disordered frequencies that disintegrate matter. They have bodies made of scraps, but it's their resonance that kills."

  ?Alex took a step forward. "Where do they come from?"

  ?"The problem isn't where they come from, son," Valeryk replied, brushing the scar on his neck. "But who commands them."

  ?"Who?"

  ?Valeryk let a moment of heavy silence pass.

  "Jhonas," he replied. The name came out flat, devoid of emotion. "Or, as the survivors call him... the Man Who Never Dies."

  ?Cristy's heart skipped a beat. Cindy was right.

  Valeryk noticed the reaction. He didn't ask anything. He closed the subject by pushing off the desk.

  ?"I didn't call you here for a history lesson," he said, pragmatic. "It makes no sense to keep you locked up while the world outside burns. And frankly, given the emergency and the casualties... we cannot afford to leave unused what might help us."

  ?He looked them straight in the eyes. His gaze returned to Tony, once again.

  "I am sending you on an expedition. You will deploy with Beta squad in twenty minutes."

  ?The three stood petrified.

  The door was opening.

  The euphoria of fresh air hit them like a slap, but underneath was terror. The Filaments. The dead guards. Jhonas.

  Going out meant freedom, but it also meant becoming targets.

  For an instant, it seemed to Cristy that this freedom had a price no one had named yet.

  But the need to get out was stronger than the doubt.

  ?Yet, no one objected. No one asked for guarantees.

  Valeryk seemed the only lucid adult in that madhouse. The only one offering a way out.

  Tony hesitated an instant.

  "Thank you," he said.

  ?Valeryk gave a sharp nod.

  "Don't thank me yet. It's hell out there. Go get ready."

  He watched them leave.

  The sliding door closed behind them with a pneumatic hiss, leaving the room in absolute silence.

  Valeryk remained motionless.

  He resumed drumming his fingers on the wood.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  A slow rhythm. Constant. Precise.

  Author’s Note ??