The throne groaned back to life, stone grinding beneath it like something roused from deep slumber. Machinery stirred around the chamber, a low thrum pulsing like a buried heart. Thalyn’s eyes fluttered open, but she remained still, watching the glyphs gleam faintly before her, echoes of ancient power humming below.
At a nearby table, Korr muttered to himself, relics strewn like bones across the surface. His hands moved with precision, turning a device over, tracing worn runes. The dim light sculpted the angles of his face.
Thalyn drew a long breath, the last taste of the experience still heavy on her mind. She rose and staggered a step, found her balance. Her gaze drifted to Elara at the viewport, brow furrowed, fingers tapping a quiet rhythm against her thigh.
She stepped beside the medic and looked out.
The world beyond spilled into fractured terrain and mist-choked plateaus. Moss-veined stones jutted from the ground like the knuckles of buried giants. Vines twisted around shattered pylons that might once have been roads or conduits, now corroded, overgrown with luminous mold. The fog thinned near the ruins but never lifted, pressing against the jungle’s edge like a tide held back by something unseen.
Commander Hurst stood outside, motionless. One boot braced on a fallen slab, exo-mask hissing with each breath. He was a silhouette against the shifting haze, one hand tight on the rifle’s grip, the other resting on a stone spire.
Something stirred in the underbrush.
The rifle barked a sharp report that echoed off the cliffs. A group of Nether beasts staggered into view, twisted forms with glowing eyes, spines bristling. They snarled but held, wary of the ruins.
He waited until they retreated into the dark, then holstered the rifle with a grunt of satisfaction. After a final scan of the shrouded jungle, he turned and stepped back into the chamber, eyes cutting to Thalyn. “Ka’el, you back with us?” His voice rumbled through the mask.
Thalyn nodded. “Yes, commander. But it’s... strange,” she said. “When I’m there, I don’t remember myself. I become him.”
Hurst pulled off his mask and clipped it to his belt. “Interesting. What did you see this time?”
He moved to the nearby tools table, set the rifle aside, and unrolled a compact toolkit. Without a word, he began checking and assembling a core drill, each piece clicking into place with smooth, practiced motions.
Thalyn flexed her fingers, staring at her empty palms as if expecting to see blistered skin. “I pulled a working plasma rifle off a busted guard droid,” she muttered. “Spent the rest of the day running a gauntlet through a maze of automated turrets and hunting packs.”
Jaxon paused, a heavy drill coupling hovering mid-air. He looked up, the veteran in him suddenly intensely focused. “A functioning plasma rifle?” he grunted. “What I would give to get my hands on one of those. Did it hold a charge?”
“Enough to keep me breathing,” Thalyn said. “It was a running firefight. Hide, shoot, survive. They didn't stop coming until dusk.”
Korr’s hand froze. A small black prism of Elder alloy hovered in his fingers, forgotten. He didn’t speak, but his eyes locked onto her.
Elara tilted her head, her violet eyes narrowing. “Until the dusk? Thalyn, exactly how much time passed for you in there?”
Thalyn hesitated, the chronological mismatch finally hitting her. “From early morning to dusk. It was almost night when I emerged.”
“A full day?” Korr blurted. “That’s not right. You weren’t gone that long.”
Thalyn frowned. “No,” she said, voice low. “I’m sure. I moved through that city. Hid. Fought. Waited. Watched the light change.”
Korr rubbed the back of his neck with a sharp motion. “That throne… it’s not just playback. It’s fast forward, or something.”
Hurst didn’t look up from the drill. “It’s stretching your mind across a seam,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“Which would explain the aftereffects,” Elara murmured. She tapped her thigh again, faster now, her eyes flicking toward the crown.
The drill’s power cell chirped as Hurst slid it into place. “I’m going to drill thalorite while you research in here. No sense wasting time while Ka’el naps with ghosts.”
“You’re going outside again?” Elara asked.
“We came here to salvage, didn’t we? She’ll be in that throne anyway.”
Thalyn moved to the throne and Korr froze again. He tilted his head, eyes bright. “Did none of you notice it?”
“Notice what?” Elara asked.
“The droid,” he said, voice dropping. “The damn thing watches her. Tracks her. Not us.”
Thalyn’s eyes flicked toward the chamber’s entrance. The sealed door sat as it always had, layered in ancient script.
Beyond the viewport, the sentinel droid still stood, shoulders half-sunken in shadow. Its coal-green optics pulsed slow and steady, twin candles behind glass. Unmoving.
Until Thalyn shifted. Then its head tilted, just slightly.
Jaxon noticed it too. He straightened from the bench. “Aye. That’s new.”
Thalyn stared back at it. The optics never blinked. Not hostile. But not inert either. A presence behind the glass. Measured. Patient.
“Why me?” she breathed.
Jaxon packed the drill into its sheath and slung it over his shoulder. “Well, you’re the one who naps on the throne.”
Elara arched a brow. “Interesting.”
Silence settled like a fog.
Thalyn faced them, her voice steady. “There’s more to uncover. I have to go back.”
None of them argued. Jaxon just gave a grunt and moved to the far wall, collecting a pack of mineral charges. Korr returned to his relics, muttering under his breath. Elara watched her for a beat, then simply nodded once and stepped back.
Thalyn turned to the throne, feeling its cold grip even before she approached. The air felt heavier around it, with the low thrum pulsing from stone and metal. Light caught strange angles as it struck the carved surface, shadows folding into impossible geometries, never quite where they belonged.
She lowered herself into the seat. The shape of it was known to her now, but the weight of it never eased. Her fingers reached for the crown. It rose to meet her with a subtle deliberate pull, like it remembered her.
As it settled onto her brow, the lights dimmed. The chamber faded. Sounds stretched into silence. Her breath slowed.
A whisper brushed against her thoughts. “Ready for more, Thalyn?” The voice carried a weight beyond the tease.
“Yes.”
And the world peeled away.599Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgifYY5Z1fu
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