LYRIAN AND REONE
"What are Nullborn Extractors doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" Reone muttered, squinting from their vantage point on the ridge.
"I'm confused too," Lyrian replied softly.
Together, they watched the armed men moving through the clearing below. Reone counted twelve of them—too many to take head-on. Each carried an extractor weapon: sleek rifles with twin energy conduits that pulsed faintly. Their armor was reinforced, heavy, and at the base of each neck was a glowing tube filled with a flickering, reddish light.
Stolen resonance.
Reone's stomach turned. He and Lyrian had crossed paths with their kind before—non-resonant humans who defied nature's decree by stealing resonance from others, which killed their victims.
They were, quite accurately, considered abominations.
Because the universe demanded balance in all things, the Nullborn Extractors never escaped unscarred. Black and red veins—corrupted, crawling like living fire—spread across their skin, giving them revolting looks. Not that they cared, not when stolen power made them feel godlike… even if only for a short while,until their vials emptied.
Reone quietly drew his blade, its edge glinting faintly in the half-light.
Lyrian noticed. "You're not going to attack them, right? There's too many."
"Of course not," Reone murmured quietly, to Lyrian's relief. "Just being prepared," he added.
All Resonant beings were prey for these guys but He knew Sylphs like Lyrian were prime target. Their resonance was potent—an irresistible lure to any Nullborn Extractor, even if they had other targets in mind. His grip on the blade tightened.
He would protect her.
Down below, the largest of the Extractors—clearly their leader—knelt beside a patch of pink, viscous goo. His grin was predatory.
"Yes," he said, his voice carrying easily across the still air. "It seems that we're on the right track, men."
The pink substance looked… familiar,Lyrian thought while frowning.
She kept watching.
A nervous subordinate stepped forward to talk to the leader. "Boss, the men have been at this all night. Maybe we should rest. Just a short break."
The leader's expression darkened. Slowly, he turned to face the man. "The men, is it, Roscoe?"
Roscoe paled. "I—I just meant—"
A burst of lightning shot from the leader's hand, slamming into Roscoe's chest and hurling him into a tree. The man groaned and didn't get up.
The others froze.
"You're all pathetic," the leader snarled. "How am I supposed to succeed with a bunch of lazy idiots?"
No one dared move, let alone made so much as a noise,even Roscoe.
"First you let our prize escape last night, and now you're too tired to chase it down? And you call yourselves Nullborn Extractors?" He pressed his fingers to his temple in mock despair, then looked up sharply, eyes blazing. "Do I need to remind you what's at stake if we capture even one Diviner? The power we could gain?"
Lyrian's breath caught. Diviners?
"What?" she mouthed at Reone.
He looked just as surprised, but said nothing.
It was common knowledge that that Diviners weren't real. They were myths—beings said to have strong healing abilties and to hold the power to bestow resonance itself. Every child grew up on stories about them, but no one had ever seen one. Because stories were all they were.
The leader unclipped the empty resonance case at his collar and held it up. "I don't know about you all, but I'm tired of this junk that burns out every few hours," he spat. "I want endless power-the kind that doesn't rot my flesh."
With a crack, he crushed the case in his fist, then quickly snapped a new vial into place. Resonance flared through his body, and the black and red veins across his skin pulsed brighter, almost glowing.
"Now," he growled, voice rough with energy, "you can either go back to the cave with those two morons who failed to catch the Diviner earlier, or quit whining and focus on finding those three-fingered freaks."
Lyrian's mouth went dry. Three-fingered freaks…
Her mind flashed back to the creature from the night before—the one that had healed itself with three slender fingers. And it had bled pink.
They stayed silent as the Extractors marched away, boots pounding the dirt until the forest swallowed the sound.
Reone finally exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. "Did I hear that right? Or are they actually hunting Diviners?"
Lyrian nodded slowly. "That's what they said."
Reone scoffed. "That stolen resonance must be rotting their brains too. Everyone knows Diviners are just fairy tales."
"I'm… not so sure," Lyrian said softly.
He turned to her, frowning. "What do you mean?"
She hesitated. She hadn't wanted to tell him. But it was too risky now—danger was so close.
"I think Diviners might be real," she said at last. "Because... I think I saw one last night."
Reone blinked. Then his expression hardened. "You what?"
"I wanted to tell you, but it all happened so fast. It attacked me. I fought back—I almost won, but I hesitated. It looked terrified, Reone. It countered… and then I realized it was hurt. And—"
"Whoa, You're going too fast,Lyrian," He raised a hand. "But did you just say that you were attacked last night?"
Lyrian nodded, guilt clouding her face.
She told him everything—the pink blood, the three fingers, the wound that healed itself, and how the creature had vanished the moment it sensed Reone approaching.
When she finished, he just stared. "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"And why am I hearing about this now?" His voice rose. "Why keep it from me, Lyrian?"
"I didn't know how. I didn't even understand it myself."
"That's not an excuse," he said sharply. "You should've told me. We're supposed to be a team."
She couldn't meet his eyes. He was right.
His next words were quiet but cut deep. "Tell me something.Did you not tell me because you were afraid I'd hurt it?"
Lyrian froze. He'd hit the truth she hadn't dared to admit even to herself.
"You dont trust me,do you?" he asked when she didn't answer, voice low.
"Of course I do," she said quickly. "It's just—"
"Just what?"
"You have a history, Reone. Remember the waterfall? The Noxshade—"
"I remember trying to protect you," he snapped. "I thought we were past that."
She said nothing. She realized, painfully, that maybe she wasn't.
After a long silence, Reone's voice dropped, raw and quiet. "I thought you trusted me—that you saw me as someone you could actually be with. But it turns out all you see when you look at me is the bad guy. And I guess… I can't blame you for thinking people don't change."
Tears blurred her eyes. He sounded so hurt.She wanted to tell him that wasn't true—but deep down, she wasn't sure anymore.
"Is that why you wanted to put things on hold last night?" he asked suddenly.
"Of course not." She reached up for his arm, needing to reassure him with her touch. "And Reone, you mean so much to me."
He looked at her, eyes distant. "You say that," he murmured, "but…"
He gently pulled her hands away.
Her heart ached, but she knew there was nothing she could say to fix this—not now.
Still, there were other things that mattered.
"I know you're angry," she said quietly, "but we need to stop those Extractors before they hurt the Diviners—"
"Diviners aren't real, Lyrian," he cut in.
"I saw it, Reone. And the way it healed—"
"You don't know what you saw. Plenty of people have healing abilities."
"It matched the Extractors' description."
"Maybe they're wrong too."
Lyrian sighed, exasperated. He was being stubborn, she thought—maybe on purpose.
"Whatever they are," she said firmly, "they're being hunted. We have to help them."
"Lyrian, you said it yourself—there are too many of them. We can't take that on," he said, logical as ever.
He wanted to remind her that a Sylph like her was fair game to those guys but he knew from past experience that he would lose that argument.
Lyrian stared at him, anger and hurt twisting in her chest. It felt like he was dismissing her just to spite her.
Seeing the look on her face, Reone rolled his eyes. "Typical. I know you think I'm being petty, but I'm just being pragmatic. We're here on a mission, Lyrian.And we cant afford to get killed before we complete it.
If Damon and those three succeed, everyone we care about is at risk. Mia, Rhys… all of them. Remember?"
That silenced her. He was right, even if she hated it.
"I'm glad we're in agreement," he said, turning away. "Let's move."
He didn't look back, so she dindt follow, biting her lip in frustration.Lyrian remained planted where she was.
Her mind wouldn't let go of that creature—the fear in its eyes, its injury.
She hoped, somehow, it had found a place to hide. Because after fighting it, she didn't like its chances against them.
Lyrian was so distracted that she didn't notice Reone stop until he grunted sharply. She looked up—and froze.
Reone was on the ground, a coil device wrapped tightly around his torso with a mechanical whirr.
"Reone—!"
Before she could react, a second coil dart shot from the trees and wrapped around her legs. It contracted instantly, pulling tight and sending her crashing to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
"I told you I heard voices," someone said smugly as she gasped in pain.
"So you did," another voice replied. "And look what we have here--A Sylph… and a Legion. This must be our lucky day."