The rail line didn't appear on any public map. It lurked beneath the city like a buried memory—the skeleton of an abandoned transit project the Ordo had quietly strangled decades ago. Most exits had collapsed. The tunnels that remained were unstable, unlit, and riddled with forgotten sigils from an era when containment relied on brute force rather than precision. Liora stepped through the breach first, ducking under a curtain of rebar twisted like old vines.
Jake followed, boots scraping stone dust. Every sound echoed too loudly in the dark. The air smelled of rust, rainwater, and something older—a cold mineral sharpness that made Jake's teeth ache."Stay close," Liora murmured, her voice a low thread in the dark.
It wasn't a warning. It was a command. The tunnel widened ahead into a cavernous slope, leading downward into shadow. Jake felt the hill in his knees, in his spine, as though the earth itself was tilting him forward against his will. He swallowed. "How far does this go? "As far as we need," Liora said. "Distance is safety. Noise is safety. The Ordo hates messy ground."Jake didn't answer. A pulse had just crawled up his spine — not pain, not power, but familiarity.
A warmth behind his ribs.
A flicker of presence. He forced his feet to keep moving. The deeper they went, the colder the air became. Jake exhaled, and fog drifted from his mouth.
He rubbed his arms, but the chill wasn't natural — it was too directed, coiling around his chest, humming beneath his skin. Liora kept her pace steady, not looking back, but Jake could tell she sensed his unease. She always did."You're quiet," she said without turning."I'm listening," he said."To what?"Jake hesitated. "Everything."Liora finally looked over her shoulder. Her eyes glinted silver in the dark, sharp and assessing. "Describe it."Jake opened his mouth — but the right words didn't exist."It's like the tunnel has a heartbeat," he managed. "Just barely."Liora exhaled through her nose. "Suspensum imprint. Your Arcana is bleeding into your senses. It'll stabilise."But she didn't sound convinced. Jake stepped forward, and the world blurred — not visually, not physically, but inside him. The warmth in his chest pulsed once, twice, like answering a question he hadn't asked. He staggered.Liora caught his wrist instantly. "Jake.""I'm fine," he said, though he wasn't sure. Her grip tightened. "Don't lie to me." I'm not lying." He steadied himself. "It's just… the feeling again."Liora's jaw tightened. "Same as before?"Jake nodded weakly.
Loneliness.
Invisible, but heavy. Only this time, it wasn't distant . This time, it felt close. The tunnel opened into a vast, hollow chamber — a half-collapsed platform with the remnants of old rails twisting through the stone like fossilised serpents. Water dripped from above in slow, rhythmic taps. Liora lifted a hand, and her sigil-thread flickered softly, casting faint light. The shadows bent back reluctantly."We'll rest here," she said. "Ten minutes. Then we keep moving."Jake sank onto an overturned metal crate. His heart wouldn't settle — it kept tripping over that other pulse, that half-familiar ache. He rubbed his chest.
"I don't understand why it's happening."Liora sat across from him, folding her legs neatly, keeping her back to the wall so she could watch every angle of the chamber."It's because you awakened violently," she said. "Uncontained resonance looks for patterns. For things it remembers. "I don't remember anything," Jake whispered. Liora softened. Just a little. "You lost a lot in the accident. Loss leaves echoes."Jake shook his head. "This doesn't feel like my loss."The map slipped slightly from Liora's hands. He didn't notice."I keep feeling like someone's reaching for me," Jake went on, voice shaky. "Like I'm supposed to… answer."Liora's voice dropped. "Have you answered? "No," Jake said immediately. Too immediately. "I mean— no. I don't know how. I don't even know what it is."Liora relaxed by a fraction.
Then tensed again when the rail segment behind Jake groaned. Jake jolted upright . It wasn't structural. It was resonance. A faint, trembling pulse rippled through the air — brushing against him like fingers trailing across the inside of a mirror. Jake gasped. "There it is again—" Liora was already on her feet, blade drawn, eyes scanning every shadow.
"Direction?" she snapped. Jake pressed a hand to his sternum, breathing hard.
" I-I don't know. "Think. "It's not a direction!" Jake snapped back, voice cracking. "It's— it's like someone is sad. And close. And I don't know why."Liora froze.A moment passed.
Then she sheathed the blade."Get your breath steady," she said. Her voice was calm, but her pulse was visible at her throat. Too fast. "We'll keep moving soon."Jake sank back onto the crate, hands trembling. He hated this.
He hated not knowing.
He hated feeling something that wasn't his. Liora turned away so he wouldn't see the look on her face. Loneliness, she thought.
Resonance. Emotional imprint. But he hasn't bonded with anyone. Unless—No. She shut the thought down.
Premature conclusions killed faster than any Ordo scout. For now, she would keep him alive.
Keep him moving.
Keep him ignorant of the one truth she feared; This resonance wasn't his Arcana.
It was someone else's.
And it was getting stronger.