TRR Spur Station, Crown Harbor District
New Boston, North Atlantic Federation arc zone
Western Hemisphere,
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D.
The sirens faded into the background hum of the Crown Harbor night. The ambulance door hung open, spilling white light onto the street where security drones still hovered, scanning the smoking remains of the station.
Inside, Ellira sat on the edge of a stretcher, her hands trembling slightly as the medical team moved around her with quiet efficiency. The faint scent of sterilized air and ozone filled the confined space. A medic adjusted a scanner over her chest, light washing across her skin in gentle waves.
Neru stood at her side, holding her arm steady while the readings pulsed across the holo-display. Ellira's expression was distant—her eyes unfocused, fixed on the faint flicker of gold light in her palm.
"Her core is stabilizing," one of the medics murmured, glancing at the screen.
The crystalline node embedded deep within Ellira's chest—her Luminis Core—flared briefly, then dimmed to a steady rhythm. The lattice lines along her arms and collarbone glowed faintly in response, signaling that her energy was circulating freely again. The Disruptor's effects were fading.
"She'll recover," another medic said.
Neru exhaled softly and gave Ellira's arm a reassuring squeeze. "See? You're fine," she said, though the faint tremor in her voice betrayed how close things had come.
Across from them, Elias stood in the open doorway, his figure half-silhouetted against the flashing lights outside. His arms were folded, his jaw tense. Even without looking directly at him, Ellira could feel his agitation—his aura prickling with frustration and barely contained panic.
He wasn't here for her. He was thinking of Naia. A shadow loomed beside him—a towering shape wrapped in resonance energy. The figure leaned down, whispering something too low for Ellira to hear.
Neru followed her gaze. "That's Ryn Koras," she said quietly. "Resonant lifeform. Works for the GSA."
Ellira turned her head slightly, startled. She had heard of Resonant creatures being hired by human agencies, but it was rare. Most were reclusive or loyal only to their own kind. Seeing one here, calmly cooperating with a human operative, unsettled her more than she expected.
Elias nodded to the Gembeast before stepping forward. The medic straightened as he approached, handing him a small datapad.
"The damage isn't permanent or extensive," the medic reported. "Her Lumenis channels are recovering. With rest, she'll make a full recovery."
Elias gave a short nod, his tone clipped. "Good."
"I'm fine," Ellira interrupted, her voice soft but steady. She swung her legs off the stretcher, ignoring the medic's protest. "We need to search for Naia."
Elias's response came immediately, sharp and commanding.
"We have it handled." He motioned toward Ryn. "Ryn and I will track her signal. You should return to Auralis or to the Mothership. You've done enough."
He turned as if to leave, but Ellira's hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising strength.
"You're not leaving me behind," she hissed, her eyes blazing gold. "Naia is in danger. I'm not—"
Elias wheeled around, anger flashing in his green eyes. "You're not a warrior, Ellira! What can you do if I bring you with me?" His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Tell me—what can you do when we face them again?"
The words hit harder than she expected. The raw anger in his tone wasn't cruelty—it was fear. But it still cut through her, leaving her frozen.
She had never seen him like this before. She didn't know him much, but the Elias she had seen during the investigation was quiet, disciplined, distant—a man of duty and restraint. But now, under the cold wash of the ambulance light, that control cracked, revealing the fury and desperation beneath.
Ellira's fingers loosened around his arm. She wanted to speak, but no words came.
Behind them, Neru stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. "Maybe," she said dryly, "we should all calm down before someone starts throwing punches."
Her tone was enough to break the tension. Elias exhaled through his nose, turning away to hide the flicker of guilt crossing his face. Ellira looked down, the glow in her eyes fading to a dim shimmer.
Outside, the night wind carried the faint scent of burning metal from the destroyed station. Somewhere beyond the barricades, Naia was out there—alone, captured, her signal vanishing into static.
And Ellira's resolve hardened. Whether Elias allowed it or not, she wasn't going to stay behind. Ellira's voice trembled, but there was steel beneath it.
"I'm not a fighter like you… or like Naia," she said, meeting Elias's gaze. Her golden eyes burned faintly in the ambulance's white light. "But I can protect her. Just give me a chance."
For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet between them was filled with the rhythmic hum of the medical instruments and the faint, distant chatter of agents outside. The tension that hung in the air was taut as wire. Elias's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Neru stepped forward from behind the medics, her voice breaking the silence.
"I looked at the bodies," she said, her tone calm but clipped. "The humans Naia fought—they weren't random attackers. I ran their identifications through the Resonant Network."
Elias turned toward her sharply. "And?"
"They're mercenaries," Neru continued. "Independent contractors. Wanted by the UEF for theft, smuggling, and assassination. Some of them were former GSA defectors."
Ellira frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "What are mercenaries doing operating inside UEF jurisdiction?"
"They're not supposed to be," Elias said flatly, his voice low. He stepped out of the ambulance, boots crunching over shattered glass. The flashing lights painted his face in red and blue as he stared toward the scorched remains of the transport lot. "They're hired force—people bought and paid for by the group I've been tracking for months."
He crouched down near a bloodstain that darkened the concrete—a large, smeared patch where Naia had fought. The edges of the stain glimmered faintly under the resonance scanners, indicating recent discharge from gem energy.
Ellira watched him, her stomach twisting. "Naia did this?"
Elias nodded slowly. "You said she fought them all off. Took down every one of them before those two Luminiarions arrived."
The words hung heavy in the cold air. He clenched his gloved hand into a fist, the leather creaking. The image of Naia—his little sister—surrounded, fighting alone, filled his chest with a familiar ache.
Xerna.
Her name cut through his thoughts like a blade. He'd seen her power before. He knew what she was capable of—and if she had taken Naia, there was a reason. Not just the stolen comm device. Not just curiosity. It was deliberate.
"What the hell are you planning?" he muttered under his breath.
He looked at the blood again, and for a brief, cruel instant, his mind slipped back six years—to the night Naia lost her arm. The smoke, the shouting, the burst of light as the blast tore through the convoy. Her scream still echoed in his head, sharp as glass.
He hadn't gone back for her. Not immediately. He'd chased the enemy instead, letting his duty outweigh his heart. By the time he found her, she was already lying on the ground, covered in blood, her arm gone.
That guilt had lived with him ever since—gnawing, unrelenting.
He drew in a slow breath and forced it out, eyes hardening as he turned to face Ellira again. For the first time since they'd met, he really looked at her. The resemblance was uncanny—same build, same expression when angry, the same flicker of energy in her aura. It was like standing before Xerna's reflection, only gentler.
Ellira tilted her head, uncertain. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Elias said quietly. But it wasn't true.
He had known of her—long before they met in person. Xerna had spoken of her sister often, back when they had fought together years ago. She'd described her with a fondness Elias had never understood until now: 'The other half of my light,' Xerna had called her.
That was why he'd kept his distance when the investigation began. Why he'd sent Ellira and Naia to Auralis instead of working alongside them. He couldn't bear the reminder—the echo of someone he'd lost, someone who had become his enemy.
He sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head as he straightened. The air rippled faintly as a low hum approached.
Ellira's voice trembled, but there was steel beneath it."I'm not a fighter like you… or like Naia," she said, meeting Elias's gaze. Her golden eyes burned faintly in the ambulance's white light. "But I can protect her. Just give me a chance."
For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet between them was filled with the rhythmic hum of the medical instruments and the faint, distant chatter of agents outside. The tension that hung in the air was taut as wire.
Elias's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Neru stepped forward from behind the medics, her voice breaking the silence."I looked at the bodies," she said, her tone calm but clipped. "The humans Naia fought—they weren't random attackers. I ran their identifications through the Resonant Network."
Elias turned toward her sharply. "And?"
"They're mercenaries," Neru continued. "Independent contractors. Wanted by the UEF for theft, smuggling, and assassination. Some of them were former GSA defectors."
Ellira frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "What are mercenaries doing operating inside UEF jurisdiction?"
"They're not supposed to be," Elias said flatly, his voice low. He stepped out of the ambulance, boots crunching over shattered glass. The flashing lights painted his face in red and blue as he stared toward the scorched remains of the transport lot. "They're hired force—people bought and paid for by the group I've been tracking for months."
He crouched down near a bloodstain that darkened the concrete—a large, smeared patch where Naia had fought. The edges of the stain glimmered faintly under the resonance scanners, indicating recent discharge from gem energy.
Ellira watched him, her stomach twisting. "Naia did this?"
Elias nodded slowly. "You said she fought them all off. Took down every one of them before those two Luminiarions arrived."
The words hung heavy in the cold air. He clenched his gloved hand into a fist, the leather creaking. The image of Naia—his little sister—surrounded, fighting alone, filled his chest with a familiar ache.
Xerna.
Her name cut through his thoughts like a blade.
He'd seen her power before. He knew what she was capable of—and if she had taken Naia, there was a reason. Not just the stolen comm device. Not just curiosity. It was deliberate.
"What the hell are you planning?" he muttered under his breath.
He looked at the blood again, and for a brief, cruel instant, his mind slipped back six years—to the night Naia lost her arm. The smoke, the shouting, the burst of light as the blast tore through the convoy. Her scream still echoed in his head, sharp as glass.
He hadn't gone back for her. Not immediately. He'd chased the enemy instead, letting his duty outweigh his heart. By the time he found her, she was already lying on the ground, covered in blood, her arm gone.
That guilt had lived with him ever since—gnawing, unrelenting.
He drew in a slow breath and forced it out, eyes hardening as he turned to face Ellira again. For the first time since they'd met, he really looked at her. The resemblance was uncanny—same build, same expression when angry, the same flicker of energy in her aura. It was like standing before Xerna's reflection, only gentler.
Ellira tilted her head, uncertain. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Elias said quietly. But it wasn't true.
He had known of her long before they met in person. Xerna had often spoken of her sister, back when they had been together years ago. She'd described her with a fondness Elias had never understood until now: 'The other half of my light,' Xerna had called her.
That was why he'd kept his distance when the investigation began. Why he had sent Ellira and Naia to Auralis instead of working alongside them. He couldn't bear the reminder—the echo of someone he'd lost, someone who had become his enemy.
He sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head as he straightened. The air rippled faintly as a low hum approached. Ryn Koras approached—his towering form framed by the flickering emergency lights, his gemstone core faintly visible beneath his GSA uniform. His sapphire eyes shimmered like liquid crystal.
"I've picked up the trail," he said. "Energy residue from the portal. It's faint, but traceable. We should move now."
Elias nodded once, his decision immediate. "Fine."
He turned to Ellira, his expression grim but resolved. "You can come," he said at last. "Stay behind me and do exactly what I say. Understood?"
Ellira exhaled, a mix of relief and determination softening her features. "Understood."
Elias then glanced at Neru, his voice firm again. "You head back to my residence and monitor from there. Keep the comm line open."
"Obviously. Unfortunately, I'm not a Warrior or a Protector like El." Neru said. "I should be able to provide you guys with coordination. I should be able to follow you guys with my Mirror Satellite and monitor you guys from your home. Please try not to die, but if you do, I'm raiding your liquor stash, Elias."
"Sure," He muttered. He turned to Ellira and Ryn. "Let's move out."
As the three of them stepped away from the ambulance, the city lights glinted off the shattered fragments of the ground from the battle. Ellira's fingers brushed over the faint glow on her chest, where her Lumenis core pulsed faintly. Somewhere out there, Naia's resonance called to her—faint but steady, like a thread of light stretching through the dark.
And she silently vowed: I will protect her. No matter what.
****
The night wind tore past them in a rush of cold air and engine hum. Ellira sat pressed close behind Elias on the hoverbike, her arms looped tightly around his torso, her cheek brushing against the back of his shoulder as they sped through the glimmering arteries of New Boston. The vehicle's frame vibrated beneath her, each shift in momentum echoing through her chest where her Luminis core thrummed in uneasy rhythm. Ahead of them, Ryn Koras rode in near silence—his larger hoverbike cutting through the fog with smooth precision, his crystalline hair catching faint reflections of the streetlights.
Holding on to Elias, Ellira could feel more than just his movement. Beneath the steady rhythm of his breathing, there was a quiet, rigid tension—a storm he kept locked beneath layers of control. Every muscle in his back felt wound tight, his restraint a barely held thread. The disciplined calm of a GSA agent was there on the surface, but underneath it, Ellira could feel the turbulence—the barely restrained anger, the panic he refused to show.
He wasn't just riding to save his sister. He was running from guilt. The bike's thrusters shifted pitch as they turned out of Crown Harbor, leaving behind the glistening docks and neon skyline for the darker industrial sprawl of the Obsidian District. Once, the district had been alive with workers, shipping drones, and magrail haulers; now it was silent under the Amber Vigil lockdown. The wide streets were empty, buildings dark except for the occasional flicker of security lights reflecting off rain-slick pavement.
Ellira lifted her gaze to the skyline—the faint shimmer of the upper towers blending with the low haze of the smog layer.
"We're really going off-book for this," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Elias didn't answer, but she felt his chest tighten beneath her hands. He should have reported this to the GSA. Everything they'd learned—the truth about Malcolm, the attack at the Helios Gate, and the involvement of Xerna Solenne—all of it was classified-level intelligence that demanded immediate agency response. But Elias hadn't called it in. He hadn't even sent a coded message through the secure network.
He was going rogue. Ellira remembered something Naia had once told her about Elias:
"Elias isn't like that. He's the kind of person who'll follow his ideals to the end, no matter the cost. When he believes in something, he doesn't hesitate—even if it means going against the rules… or the House."
Ellira could almost hear Naia's voice now, faint and echoing in her memory. It seemed she'd been right.
The cityscape blurred past them, the world reduced to streaks of gray and violet light. Eventually, the bright corporate skyline gave way to the older sector—massive industrial blocks, loading cranes, and forgotten refineries that stretched toward the east of the district.
Ryn slowed his bike, raising one arm as he veered toward a cluster of derelict factories. The faint glow of Luminis residue shimmered across the asphalt like a ghostly trail—visible only through the Resonant creature's perception. His long tongue flicked once, tasting the air, his fair skin throat pulsing faintly as he analyzed it.
"The trail leads here," Ryn said over the comm. "Residual Luminis. Fresh. Less than an hour old."
Elias steered closer, scanning the environment. His eyes flickered with readings, the veins under his eyes bulged as Lumenis flowed through them to his eyes, and his sensory Facet activated. The faint pulse of spatial distortion was still active in the air. His gut twisted.
Too easy.
He knew Xerna's methods. The woman was a ghost when she wanted to be—able to vanish without a trace, her energy signature scrubbed from every spectrum. She'd done it before, to entire GSA divisions. And even to Ryn's tracking ability not long ago. And yet now, she'd left a clear trail.
Elias frowned. What was she up to? He knew it was not a rookie mistake by her. She was too skilled to do such a thing. No...She had deliberately left behind that residue so they could track it. Which means she wanted them to do so. But why?
She was leading them somewhere—pulling them along by the thread she had left behind, like bait for a trap. Elias could feel it in his bones, that quiet dread creeping in with every kilometer they crossed. But even knowing that, he pressed harder on the accelerator. The bike's engines roared, the pavement beneath them blurring into shadow.
He wasn't turning back. Not while Naia was still out there. And Ellira, holding on tightly, could feel it—the fury, the guilt, and the fear—all blending in Elias's heartbeat, driving him toward whatever awaited them in the dark heart of the Obsidian District.
****
Naia jolted awake, breath sharp and uneven, the remnants of her nightmare still clawing at her mind. Images of fire, blood, and that terrible light from years ago flickered behind her eyes—the night she'd lost her arm, the night her life had changed.
She sat upright, sweat slicking her skin. Her gaze fell to her right arm—the crystalline prosthetic catching the dim light of the small cell. Its surface shimmered faintly, veins of energy pulsing within the gem like captured starlight. It looked beautiful in a cold, artificial way, but Naia knew better than to mistake it for comfort. The quiet hum that resonated through it reminded her that it wasn't part of her; it was a replacement, a scar made tangible.
The room around her was small—bare walls, gray metal floor, a single sink, a recessed sanitation unit, and the narrow bed she sat on. No windows. The air smelled faintly sterile, recycled. Her eyes drifted toward the door, the only exit, sealed tight with a faint red light pulsing across its frame.
Her mind instinctively reached for her Facet—her lattice system responding like muscle memory—but nothing answered. The energy that should have flowed through her sockets was muted, blocked. Around the corners of the room, she spotted the culprits: small, flat emitters embedded in the walls, each glowing with a faint teal ring. Luminis disruptors. They pulsed in perfect rhythm, severing her internal connection to the Lattice network.
A trap, then. An efficient one.
Naia exhaled softly, forcing her panic to still. She'd learned long ago when resistance was pointless. For now, she'd wait. Watch.
A hiss of air broke the silence.
The door slid open, light spilling through the frame, and a figure stepped inside.
Xerna Solenne.
She wasn't wearing armor this time. Gone was the sleek combat suit and the cold tactical presence. Instead, she wore a simple black dress that clung to her form like shadow, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves. The resemblance to Ellira was immediate and disorienting—the same high cheekbones, the same delicate symmetry—but where Ellira radiated warmth, Xerna's beauty was sharp, feral, dangerous.
"Good. You're awake," Xerna said, her tone composed but carrying an undercurrent of weariness. She carried a small tray in one hand, setting it down carefully on the floor before sliding it toward Naia with her foot.
Naia's eyes flicked to it. A cup of water. A small plate of synthbread. Nothing more.
She looked back at Xerna, then slowly picked up the cup. She sniffed it, suspicious.
"It's not poisoned," Xerna said flatly. "Or drugged. If I wanted to kill you…" Her crimson eyes flicked up, catching Naia's gaze with unnerving steadiness. "…I'd do it with my hand."
Naia's brow furrowed. She didn't rise to the threat, but her grip tightened around the cup. "Charming," she muttered, and took a tentative sip. The water was cold and clean.
Setting it down, she looked up at her captor again. "You didn't answer my question."
Xerna tilted her head slightly, as if amused by the defiance. "And what question is that?"
Naia's voice was firm now. "What do you want?"
For a moment, Xerna just watched her—eyes tracing the faint glow of the lattice marks visible beneath Naia's skin, lingering briefly on her crystalline arm. Then she spoke, tone measured.
"I wanted to talk," she said simply. "To you, Naia Vasselheim."
Naia leaned back slightly, her wariness sharpening. "Then talk."
Xerna crouched down to meet her at eye level. The shift made her seem less like an interrogator and more like someone weighing truth and consequence. Her crimson gaze flickered, not with hostility, but something quieter—curiosity, maybe, or recognition. She smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes.
ChatGPT said:
"I've been watching you for a long time," Xerna said, her voice quiet but cutting through the hum of the disruptors.
Naia blinked, unsure if she had heard her right. "What?"
"When Elias spoke of you," Xerna continued, "he said you were the most talented of all the Vasselheims of the younger generation." She paced slowly, her bare feet whispering against the cold floor. "I've read your record myself. He wasn't wrong."
Her crimson eyes shifted back to Naia, sharp and measuring. "What I don't understand is why you would waste that gift. That talent."
Naia stared at her. It wasn't the kind of interrogation she'd been expecting. No threat. No demand for information. Just… judgment. And something in Xerna's tone—disappointment?—made her frown in confusion.
"What does that even mean?" Naia asked, wary but genuinely thrown.
Xerna tilted her head slightly, studying her like one would study a puzzle that didn't fit the picture. "You're confused," she said softly. "Elias didn't tell you. I don't blame him. He wouldn't know how to."
Her gaze softened—briefly, almost imperceptibly. "Your brother and I go way back."
Naia's pulse quickened. "You… and Elias?"
"Yes." Xerna's lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. "He was different then. Idealistic. Dangerous in a quiet way." Her eyes flickered, a shadow of something buried deep crossing them. "He believed the world could still be fixed."
Naia watched her carefully. Even without her empathic perception, she could see the tension in Xerna's expression—the way her jaw tightened at Elias's name, the way her eyes betrayed a flicker of something she hadn't planned to show.
There was a story there. A deep one.
And then, unexpectedly, Xerna's attention shifted again. "I noticed there's something between you and my sister," she said. "Ellira."
Naia's heart gave a small, startled lurch. "What about it?"
"You care about her," Xerna said simply. "Don't you?"
Naia's eyes narrowed. "Do you?" she shot back. "Bombing a government building. Killing a UEF diplomat. Is that how you care for your sister?"
The flicker in Xerna's eyes hardened into steel. "I haven't killed anyone who didn't deserve it."
Her calm snapped. She rose from her crouch, shoulders squared, anger slipping through her composure like cracks through glass. The air in the room grew heavier, her aura pressing against the disruptor field.
Naia didn't flinch. "Malcolm."
The name hit like a slap.
Naia's voice softened. "Project Heliospire. I've seen the reports… the experiments." Her crystalline arm gleamed as she clasped it with her other hand. "Gods, what they did to you all… it must have been horrific. No one deserves that. I'm sorry."
For the first time, Xerna faltered.
Her expression shifted—not anger now, but something like disbelief. She looked at Naia, the corporate dynasty-born girl sitting before her in chains, the same one she had kidnapped, struck down, and imprisoned—and saw no hatred. Only sincerity.
"You really mean it," Xerna said quietly. There was a tremor in her voice, not weakness, but confusion. "You actually mean it."
Naia met her gaze evenly.
Xerna gave a dry, mirthless laugh and looked away. "You're too kind, Naia Vasselheim," she said. "That kindness will be your undoing."
She turned toward the door. But before she could reach it, Naia's voice stopped her.
"What are you up to?"
Xerna paused, hand hovering near the door panel.
"I understand killing Malcolm," Naia said. "I even understand hating the system that made him. But involving innocent people? Dragging the world into your vengeance? That's not justice—it's chaos."
Xerna looked back at her, and for the first time, there was something raw in her eyes. Not malice. Not arrogance. Conviction—terrifying, unwavering conviction.
"My goal is simple," she said. "I intend to create a world where coexistence is possible."
"And breaking every law you can find is the way to do it?" Naia asked.
Xerna's lips curled, her tone sharpening. "You corporate-born and your narrow worldviews. You think the system is sacred because it's comfortable for you."
Her gaze cut into Naia like a blade. "You're kind, yes. Empathetic, even. But in the end, you're still an aristocrat. Born into luxury. Protected. You've never had to claw your way through the filth the way people like me did. You've never been disposable."
Naia's voice wavered but held firm. "What are you talking about?"
Xerna took a step closer, her presence like a shadow closing in. "I'm talking about the truth. No matter how much you try to empathize, you'll never understand because you've never suffered like the rest of us. You can't. So I'll make the world understand."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, cold and resolute. "I'm going to make the UEF feel the same pain it's inflicted on others. I'm going to tear down the system you were born to protect."
Naia's eyes hardened. "The UEF is what stands between order and anarchy. It's flawed, yes—but without it, there's nothing. Only war. We've seen what happens when the world collapses."
Xerna's gaze didn't waver. "I've read your history. World War One. World War Two. The first and second Gem Wars. Every 'great leap' in your species came at the cost of blood. Maybe that's the only language your kind understands."
Her fingers brushed against the door panel, and the seal disengaged with a hiss.
"I guess we'll just have to risk another war," she said, voice almost gentle. "If that's what it takes to create peace."
She stepped into the corridor, shadows swallowing her form.
"Goodbye, Naia."
The door slid shut, sealing Naia back into silence.
For a long while, she sat motionless, staring at the faint glow of her gem arm reflecting against the wall. Xerna's words echoed in her mind—sharp, dangerous, and yet disturbingly sincere.
And Naia couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, buried deep beneath the anger and rebellion, Xerna truly believed she was saving the world. An Infernal conviction.