II---The-Hands-of-Fate

Seven days had passed since your escape from the terminal chamber.

Seven days of hiding in the shadowed underbelly of Alkora, moving only when necessary, sleeping in abandoned NeoPods and forgotten maintenance tunnels. The small device... your only connection to the mysterious "A" had become your lifeline, pulsing with messages that guided your path through the labyrinthine city.

The Traveler's Church holds more than worship. Beneath the eastern altar lies a passage. The guardians will not see you if you enter during the Hour of Reflection. -A

Isardeth's Spawn patrol the northern quadrant. Take the old maintenance shafts through Sector 9. They haven't discovered those pathways yet. -A

I can see you're close now. So close. The first shard pulses with anticipation. As do I. -A

With each message, your curiosity about this unseen ally grew. You found yourself crafting longer responses, asking questions beyond mere survival needs. Who was she? How did she know so much? Why had fate bound your paths together?

Her answers came slowly at first, cautious fragments that revealed little:

Names have power in the 70 Zones. Mine is Alexis. That's all you need for now. -A

I know what you seek because I seek it too. The shards call to those who can hear them. I’m sorry. Just a little longer now. -A

But as days passed, her messages grew longer, more personal. You learned she was more than just a navigator, one who could slip between the zones undetected; she had been watching for someone like you... someone the shards would respond to. You learned she had been alone for a very long time.

And somewhere amid the dangers and the hiding, amid the cryptic warnings and shared secrets, you found yourself looking forward to each new message with a warmth that went beyond mere survival.

Tomorrow at the dimming of the second sun. Come alone. —A

Your reply was simple, but your heart raced as you sent it:

I'll be there. How will I know you?

Her response came moments later:

You'll know. We are already connected in ways you don't yet understand. -A

The Shrine of Forgotten Light stood on the periphery of Alkora's eastern district, a structure of ancient stone and crystal that predated much of the surrounding metropolis. Unlike the sleek, metallic architecture that dominated the cityscape, the shrine bore the weathered marks of countless ages, its surfaces etched with symbols whose meanings had been lost to time.

You arrived as the second sun began its descent below the horizon, casting the shrine in amber light that filtered through crystalline windows.

The street leading to the shrine stretched before you, lined with vendors closing their stalls for the evening. The smell of old street food and burning wood reminded you that you’d eaten only a bite of a loaf nearly a week ago.

A child darted past, chasing a mechanical bird that sputtered and sparked. The toy crashed against a vendor’s stall, throwing microchips across the street and spilling coils of chromatic wire from the vendor’s stall before you. The child froze, eyes wide with the terror of knowing punishment would surely follow.

The vendor turned, mouth opening to shout.

You moved without thinking. Your hand caught the wire as it fell to the ground, gathering it in quick loops while your other hand retrieved the broken bird. The vendor’s words died as you handed him the coiled wire, still warm from the bird’s failed circuits.

“The toy malfunctioned,” you said. Your voice carried steady certainty. “Your wire is undamaged.”

The vendor glanced between you, the wire in his hand, and the child. Something in your expression made him pause. He nodded, gruff, and turned back to his stall.

The child stared at you with that same unnerving recognition you’d seen before, as if you were someone remembered or of honor, somehow. Then the child was gone, melting into the evening crowds.

Your hands trembled slightly as you continued toward the shrine. The device in your pocked pulsed warm. You didn’t check the message this time, you knew she’d seen the whole event.

The entrance, a towering archway flanked by statues of robed figures, stood open, unguarded. Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of something like incense, yet more metallic, more alien.

No worshippers occupied the main chamber. Only the soft hum of energy emanating from somewhere deeper in the structure broke the silence.

"You came."

The voice came from behind you, melodic and clear. You turned to find a woman standing in the entrance, silhouetted against the dying light of the second sun. As she stepped into the shrine, her features became visible. The dying light caught her face in profile first–the angle of her jaw, the curves of her cheeks, her skin the color of polished bronze that spoke of origins far from Alkora’s pale districts. Her complexion held warmth despite the cool demeanor she wore, as if she carried distant suns beneath her surface.

When she turned fully toward you, her eyes arrested all other thought. They shifted between violet and silver, but beneath the color lay something else, a luminescence that came from within, reflecting the world around her. The glow was subtle in the shrine’s dim light, barely visible–but unmistakable–as if stars had been caught behind her eyes and were slowly burning through.

Her dark hair absorbed the ambient glow around her, drinking light the way canyons drink sound. It fell past her shoulders in waves that suggested motion even when she stood still.

The patterns on her skin weren’t merely decorative. They traced the curves and architecture of her body with mathematical precision, mapping her in languages both technological and organic. Against her bronze skin, the marks glowed faint and violet, pulsing with her heartbeat–or the room around her. Living tattoos, or something deeper. Something had been written into her at a level far more fundamental than ink.

She moved with a precision that revealed practice, each step placed with purpose and awareness of the space it occupied. She wore clothes that had seen better days: an elbow patched jacket, pants reinforced at the knees, and boots that had walked more zones than most had walked in a lifetime.

Despite the worn garb, despite the evidence of hard travel, she carried herself with a dignity that bordered on regal. Head high, shoulders back, eyes touching yours without flinching, as if she’d walked through fire and come out understanding that survival was its own kind of grace.

"Alexis," you said, and it wasn't a question.

She tilted her head, studying you with the same intensity you felt studying her.

“You sound certain.” she confessed.

“I am.” you acknowledged.

“Why?”

You gestured toward the shrine’s interior, where light emanated from somewhere deep below. “Because you’re standing in a place that hums with the same frequency as your messages. Because you arrived before me and waited in the exact position to see me approach without being seen yourself until you chose to be. Because-”

She nodded, understanding without need for further explanation. "Because you’ve learned to read patterns… and the shards speak in ways beyond words. They've been calling to both of us." She gestured toward a doorway at the far end of the chamber. "The first one waits below. The Mastron Shard. Vision and Empathy Force." Her serious gaze turned to a warm smile.

As you walked together through the shrine, she kept a careful distance, though her eyes frequently found yours. There was caution in her movements, but also a barely contained excitement.

"How did you find me?" you asked. "How did you know where I'd be when I escaped the terminal chamber?"

"I didn't," she replied. "Not exactly. But I've been tracking the energy signatures of the shards for… a long time. When the terminal in Alkora activated after years of dormancy, I knew someone had triggered it. Someone the system recognized as worthy." Her gaze lingered on your face. "I took a chance. I'm glad I did."

The passage led downward, spiraling beneath the shrine into darkness that gradually gave way to a soft, pulsing violet light. The spiral carved through stone older than Alkora’s founding. Each step bore the wear of countless feet, the center hollowed smooth by generations of pilgrims. The walls narrowed as you descended, close enough that your shoulders nearly brushed the stone on either side.

Alexis moved ahead of you, her hand trailing along the wall. Where her fingers touched, faint luminescence bloomed briefly, glyphs that flared and faded, leaving afterimages in your vision.

“You read the walls,” you observed.

“They read me.” She didn’t look back. “The shrine recognizes those who carry the shard resonance. It’s how I knew the Mastron was here. The stone sang to me when I first arrived.”

The light grew stronger as you both descended further. The air changed, charged with potential energy that made your skin prickle. You felt your heartbeat synchronize with the pulsing glow ahead, each step bringing you into rhythm with something vast and patient.

“When did you first hear it?” you asked. “The shard.”

Alexis stopped at a landing where the passage widened slightly. She turned to face you, and in the violet light that emanated from a place below, her eyes held depths you hadn’t seen in the shrine so far. Shadows pooled in the hollows of her cheeks, the curve of her throat, the space between her collarbones where the patterns on her skin converged into a nexus that pulsed with a faint, steady rhythm.

Her voice remained steady and strong, each word measured and deliberate, as if she’d learned to conserve even her breath, “Seven months ago. I was in the Oblivion Markets, trading information for passage through the Zone boundaries. I heard singing. No one else could hear it. Just me. It led me across twelve zones to Alkora. To this shrine and to you.”

“To me specifically?” you questioned.

“The shard showed me visions. Fragments. A figure standing in terminal light. Hands that could reshape what was broken. A pattern that…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “A pattern that matched mine. Complementary. Like two pieces of something that had been divided and was trying to remember how to be whole.”

You held her gaze. “I don’t remember anything before the terminal. I don’t know if I am who you think I am.”

“You gave your loaf to that child.” She said it simply. “And with the girl, and the bird, you intervened. You didn’t hesitate. That’s who you are.”

“You were watching. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?” You asked the obvious question.

“I’ve been watching for a while.” No apology in her voice. “I needed to know if the visions were true. If you are…” She reached out, her hand stopping just short of touching your chest, hovering over where your heart beats. “If you are… worth the cost.”

“What cost?”

She lowered her hand. A pause lingered between the both of you. “The one we’re going to pay… together.”

You both broke your gaze and continued into a widening expanse. The source of the light revealed itself as you emerged into a circular chamber: a lucent formation at the center, hovering above a pedestal of black stone. Within the crystal floated a fragment of light that seemed to shift between solid and energy. You felt it in your bones before you understood it with your mind. The space pulsed with living rhythm, each breath of energy flowing through the enigmatic formation at its center. The Mastron shard floated in perfect suspension, held by forces that bent physics into poetry.

"It's beautiful," you whispered.

Alexis stood at your side, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from her. "The Killian shards were forged in Crimson’s final days. Seven fragments of his essence, crystallized," she spoke as if reciting scripture.

"The Killian Shards contain power beyond reckoning. Each one holds an aspect of Crimson himself… he distributed them to the ICA for safekeeping, but over time, they were hidden, some say even from the ICA themselves."

"Why would anyone hide something so powerful?"

"To protect them. To protect us all." She turned to face you fully. "Isardeth sought to control all seven shards. With them, he could reshape the very fabric of the 70 Zones to his will."

The chamber seemed to grow colder at the mention of that name.

"And what do you seek to do with them?"

"Return them to their rightful guardian. Alament." She spoke the name with such devotion that you couldn't doubt her sincerity. "The shards must be collected and restored before Isardeth's Spawn locate them. Already they grow closer."

She stepped toward the pedestal, then hesitated, turning back to you. "I cannot take it alone. The shrine's ancient protections require those linked by trust to claim a shard. It's a safeguard against those who would use force or deception. Power like this can’t be taken by force. It has to be given freely."

Alexis extended her hand toward you, palm up, an invitation and a question in the gesture. "Do you trust me enough for this? Will you help me claim the shard?"

You looked at her outstretched hand, then into her eyes that shifted between colors like distant stars. Everything in this world remained foreign to you... your own identity still a mystery, your purpose unclear. Yet in her gaze, you found something recognizable. Something true.

You placed your hand in hers.

Her fingers intertwined with yours, warm and surprisingly strong. Something electric passed between you at the contact. Not just physical sensation, but a deeper connection, as if memories were being shared without words.

"Together, then," she whispered, and led you to the pedestal.

You stood on opposite sides of the hovering crystal, your joined hands extended over it. The violet light intensified, bathing both your faces in its glow. Alexis began to speak words in a language you didn't recognize, yet somehow understood on a level beyond conscious thought. A ritual of claiming. A prayer of protection.

The crystal casing around the shard began to dissolve, evaporating into mist that swirled around your joined hands. The shard itself, no larger than a palm, pulsed with increasing intensity, its light synchronized with your heartbeats.

"Now," Alexis said, her voice strained with concentration. "We must both will it to come to me. Focus your intent. Trust me to be its vessel."

You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation of her hand in yours, on the trust that had brought you to this moment. You pictured the shard rising, accepting her as its guardian, joining with her purpose that had become, somehow, your purpose as well.

A gasp made you open your eyes. The Mastron Shard had risen between you, hovering momentarily before moving toward Alexis. It paused before her chest, suspended in the air as if making its final assessment.

Then it surged forward, merging with her in a blinding flash.

Alexis's body arched, her grip on your hand tightening to an almost painful degree. Violet energy coursed over her skin, illuminating the strange patterns there, revealing them not as tattoos but as a network of receptacles designed for this very power. Her eyes flew open, now solid violet with no pupil or iris, seeing beyond the physical realm.

Yet through it all, she did not release your hand. And somehow, through that connection, you felt echoes of what she experienced. Visions of distant zones, glimpses of faces unknown to you, fragments of knowledge that existed beyond words.

Through your joined hands, you felt more than visions. You felt the shard’s history. Every hand that had reached for it, every heart that had yearned for its healing power. You felt Crimson’s dying moments, when he’d split his essence into fragments rather than let it die with him. You felt the ICA’s fear when they first realized what they’d been given. You felt centuries of darkness, waiting in forgotten shrines, patient as stone.

And you felt Alexis. Her memories flooded through the connection: twelve zones crossed, songs only she could hear. You felt her doubts, her hopes, her terrible loneliness that lasted longer than you even remembered yourself.

You felt her fear that you wouldn’t be real. That the visions would prove false, and she’d be alone again. You saw her steel herself against hope because hope had disappointed her too many times. You saw her choose hope anyway, again and again, in every zone crossed, every risk taken, every message sent into the void hoping someone, you, would answer.

You squeezed her hand tighter, and felt her relief wash through you like warm rain.

As the energy stabilized, coursing through her in more controlled pulses, Alexis's eyes gradually returned to normal. She swayed slightly, and you stepped forward to steady her with your free arm.

"It's done," she whispered, her voice layered with harmonics that hadn't been present before. "The Mastron Shard has accepted me as its temporary guardian." She looked down at your joined hands, then back to your face with an expression of wonder. "It has shown me who you truly are, though you don't yet know yourself."

Before you could ask what she meant, a slow, deliberate sound echoed through the chamber, hands clapping in mocking applause.

From the shadows stepped a figure draped in robes of midnight blue, face concealed by a hood adorned with silver sigils. Only the lower portion of the face was visible–pale skin stretched over sharp features, lips curved in a cold smile.

"Well done," said the figure, voice silken with malice.

Alexis tensed, her body shifting slightly to position herself between you and the newcomer. "Isardeth's Spawn," she cursed, the violet energy flickering beneath her skin.

The temperature dropped as if the figure had brought winter in its wake. Your breath misted in the air, and frost began to form on the pedestal’s stone, spreading its patterns that looked like screaming faces.

“Well done,” the figure repeated, and this time you heard layers beneath the words. Other voices, speaking in unison with his, “I knew if I waited patiently enough, someone would do the difficult part for me.” The figure’s footsteps made no sound as it moved closer. The stone beneath its feet didn’t echo its presence, as if it weren’t quite there.

Alexis’s entire body went rigid, the violet energy beneath her skin flared bright and then dimmed, as if recoiling from the figure’s proximity. Her hand in yours became cold and trembling.

“Don’t look directly at it,” she whispered, her voice tight with warning you hadn’t heard before. “The spawn wear faces, but beneath… they’re something else.”

The figure bowed with exaggerated courtesy. "I am Malachar, faithful servant of the rightful ruler of all zones." The hood tilted, regarding you both with hidden eyes. "And I must thank you for recovering the Mastron Shard. My master will be most pleased when I bring it to him, along with the two of you."

"You allowed us to claim it," you realized aloud. "You've been watching all along."

"Of course." Malachar's smile widened. "The shrine's protections are... inconvenient for those of us who serve Isardeth. But now that you've removed those protections..." He raised a hand on which a gauntlet of black metal gleamed. "Now it's simply a matter of taking what is rightfully ours."

Alexis's grip on your hand tightened once more, and when she spoke, her voice was low, meant for you alone: "When I move, stay with me. Don't let go. The shard connects us now... it will protect both of us if we remain linked."

You gave her hand the slightest squeeze in acknowledgment.

Malachar took a step forward, gauntleted hand extended. "Come now, let's not make this unnecessarily difficult. The shard, if you please. Perhaps I'll even let one of you live to serve my master."

Malachar tilted his head, studying you both with interest that felt predatory.

“You surprise me, vessel. You stand before Isardeth’s spawn without trembling? Either you’re braver than most, or more foolish. I wonder which.”

“Neither,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear singing in your veins. “I just don’t believe you’re as powerful as you want us to think.”

Alexis’s hand tightened in yours–a warning, a plea to be silent.

Malachar’s smile widened. Something shifted beneath his hood. Movement that shouldn’t have been possible if a human face lay beneath. “Bold words. The terminal chose well. Isardeth will enjoy smashing you personally.”

He raised his gauntleted hand, and the metal began to glow. Not with light, but with an almost darkness, radiating from its shape, eating the violet glow of the chamber, suffocating the surrounding light. Shadows pooled around his feet, spreading across the floor in tendrils that writhed with intentional movement.

“Last chance,” Malachar said, his voice dropping to something almost gentle, almost kind.

“Surrender the shard. Come willingly. Isardeth might reward you for choosing him. The alternative?” He gestured at the spreading shadows. “I’ve seen strong souls shatter in the darkness. I’d rather not add yours to the collection. You seem… interesting.”

"The shards were never meant for Isardeth!" Alexis exclaimed, her free hand rising as violet energy gathered around her fingers. "They belong to Alament and the light."

"Alament," Malachar spat the name like a curse. "A coward who hides in Voluris while the zones fall into chaos. Isardeth will bring order to--"

Alexis moved with stunning speed, the energy around her hand coalescing into a blinding arc that struck the chamber floor between you and Malachar–the weakest point in the chamber's structure, the place where ancient stone met new spires, where centuries of pilgrims had worn the foundation thin.

Stone cracked. The sound was deafening, primal, the scream of earth betrayed. The floor buckled, then shattered, opening a chasm that swallowed Malachar's spreading shadows. He stumbled backward, his composure finally breaking, arms windmilling as the ground beneath him gave way.

"Run!" Alexis shouted, pulling you toward a passage opposite from where Malachar struggled. "Now!"

Still clasping her hand, you ran. Behind you, the chamber's destruction accelerated. The ceiling cracked, raining dust and stone fragments. The pedestal that had held the shard tilted, then toppled into the abyss opening in the floor. Malachar's furious shouts echoed through the shrine, but his voice grew more distant with each step you took.

The passage was narrow, forcing you to run shoulder-to-shoulder. Alexis led, your hand locked in hers, pulling you forward with strength you hadn't known she possessed. The violet glow beneath her skin illuminated the passage, showing the way when darkness would have blinded you.

"He'll follow," she gasped as you climbed a steep spiral. "The spawn don't die from falls or... They don't die from anything we can do. We can only delay them."

"Then we delay well," you managed a smile with your lungs burning.

The passage twisted upward, rising through levels of the shrine you hadn't seen before. You passed chambers filled with ancient artifacts and stone tablets covered in unreadable script. Crystalline formations that hummed with dormant power, statues of figures whose faces had eroded beyond recognition.

Behind you, you heard Malachar's voice echoing up through the passage: "Oh, vessel. Don’t run. There are no exits here!"

"Ignore him," Alexis panted. "He's trying to make us panic. To rush. To make mistakes."

"Is he lying about the exits?"

"No." She pulled you around a sharp corner, into a passage so narrow your shoulders scraped both walls. "But he doesn't know all of them. The shrine keeps some secrets even from those who watch it."

The passage ended in a wall. Solid stone, no visible door or opening. You pulled up short, your free hand bracing against the stone to stop your forward momentum. "Dead end?"

Alexis released your hand and pressed both palms against the wall. The patterns on her skin blazed violet, and the Mastron Shard pulsed beneath her shirt. "The shrine speaks to those who carry its light. Watch."

Light spread from her palms into the stone, tracing veins you hadn't seen before. The veins formed a deliberate pattern, as if a map appeared on the wall. The stone responded, warming beneath her touch, and a seam appeared where none had been visible.

The wall swung inward, revealing, finally, open air. Wind rushed in, carrying the scent of Alkora's night–metal and petrol, street food and burning fusion cores, life in all its chaotic density.

You stood on a narrow ledge high above the eastern district. Alkora spread below you in layers of light, towers rising like mountains made of glass and steel, traffic streams flowing in organized rivers between buildings, the whole city breathing with the rhythm of millions of lives intersecting.

The night sky had fallen during your time in the shrine. Stars were visible above the city's glow, cold and distant, witnessing without judgment.

And hovering at the ledge, nearly invisible against the darkness, an AeroWing, its engines idling in stealth mode, waiting.

"You planned this," you said, impressed despite the fear still singing in your veins. Alexis smiled, breathless and bright.

"I planned for many things. This was one of them." She glanced back at the passage behind you, where Malachar's approaching footsteps now echoed close. "Get in. Quickly."

You climbed into the AeroWing first, settling into the co-pilot's seat. The interior was sparse, functional, but showed signs of long use with worn controls, a blanket folded in the back, and ration wrappers tucked into a disposal bin. You realized this was her home. She'd been living in this vehicle, following the shards from zone to zone.

Alexis slid into the pilot's seat, her hands flying across the controls with practiced precision. The engines shifted from idle to active, their hum rising in pitch. The cockpit displays bloomed with data: altitude, speed, proximity sensors, energy reserves.

Through the open hatch, you saw movement at the hidden door. Malachar emerged onto the ledge, his robes billowing in the wind. He raised his hand, and darkness began gathering there, coalescing into something solid, something aimed.

"Hold on," Alexis warned, and the AeroWing dropped.

Straight down, falling like a stone. Your stomach lurched into your throat as the city rushed up to meet you, towers and lights spinning in sickening spirals.

Then Alexis pulled up, hard, and the AeroWing leveled out, skimming so close to a tower's surface that you could see your reflection in its windows for a split second before you were past it. The maneuver had brought you beneath Malachar's line of sight, below the trajectory of whatever weapon he'd been preparing.

"That's flying?" you managed, your hands gripping the seat's armrests.

"That's survival," Alexis corrected, a wild grin crossing her face. The violet glow beneath her skin pulsed bright, and you realized the Mastron Shard was helping her see the flight path, predicting obstacles before they appeared, showing her the safe route through Alkora's dense airspace.

The AeroWing wove between buildings, threading through traffic lanes with impossible precision. Behind you, the shrine receded, becoming just another structure in Alkora's ancient heart.

"Where are we going?" you asked as she guided the vessel into a higher traffic lane, where you’d blend with other ships. Alexis gazed at you, the violet energy of the Mastron Shard still visible beneath her skin, making her look almost otherworldly in the dim light of the cockpit. Her smile softened, becoming something warmer, more personal.

She looked exhausted, but she smiled anyway. Small, uncertain, but real. In that smile, you saw the girl she might have been before the zones needed crossing, before the shards needed to be found, before loneliness became the price of survival.

"Away from here first. Then..." She reached over with one hand, briefly touching yours where it rested on the armrest. The contact sent a familiar electric connection through you, amplified now by the shard pulsing in her chest. "...we find the second shard. And I help you discover who you truly are."

She paused, her expression becoming more serious. "The Mastron Shard showed me glimpses when it bonded. Your destiny, your purpose… it's intertwined with all of this. With the shards. With me. With something larger than either of us understand yet."

The AeroWing climbed higher, rising above the densest traffic, heading toward the upper atmospheric lanes where long-distance vessels traveled. Below, Alkora spread in all its impossible complexity, zones within zones, districts stacked upon districts, millions of stories unfolding simultaneously.

You watched the city transform into a constellation of lights, beautiful in its chaotic order, and felt the weight of everything that had happened settle into your bones.

And ahead, six more shards to find. Isardeth's spawn hunting you both. A destiny you couldn't remember but somehow felt pressing against you from all sides.

But for now, in this moment, you were alive. You were flying. And you weren't alone. The AeroWing shot forward, accelerating into the night, turning the lights of Alkora below into a fog of scattered memories.