Chapter 7 — Echoes of the First Rift
Aiden woke in a cold sweat.
For a moment, he didn't know where he was. The ceiling above him wasn't the cracked sky of Lysrial's ruined district. The air wasn't thick with void residue. The ground wasn't trembling under the weight of Voidspawn.
Instead, he lay on a cot inside a reinforced main hall—an emergency shelter repurposed into a command center. Voices murmured nearby. Screens flickered with red alerts. The distant hum of barriers vibrated through the walls.
He inhaled sharply, grounding himself.
He was alive.
Barely.
"Good. You're awake."
Aiden turned. Commander Ren Halvors, the field leader of Solara's temporary defense division, stood beside him with crossed arms. His uniform was half-burned, patched with bandages, and his fatigued eyes gave away that he hadn't slept in a long time.
"You nearly died out there," Ren added.
Aiden pushed himself upright, wincing. "The Voidspawn—"
"We killed it," Ren said. "Barely. And only because you distracted it long enough to get that kid out."
Aiden exhaled.
The girl had lived.
At least some part of tonight wasn't a total loss.
Ren sat on a crate across from him. "You have something to explain, Cross."
Aiden tensed. "If you're referring to the… symbols… I don't fully understand them myself."
Ren raised a brow. "Your hand was glowing with void energy. And before you blacked out, you released a shockwave strong enough to send a Class-B Voidspawn flying. That's not something a civilian can do."
Aiden hesitated, then slowly lifted his right hand. The void mark still pulsed faintly under his skin—darker now, shaped like an ever-shifting ring of shadow.
Ren leaned forward. "Tell me exactly what happened."
Aiden did.
He told him about the collapse of the Gate, the wave that hit him, the system windows, the "Voidbound" skill. He didn't exaggerate or hide anything—he didn't need to. The truth was already absurd enough.
When he finished, Ren exhaled deeply.
"That lines up with our readings," he said. "Your body registered a synchronization rate that should've killed you. And yet… you stabilized."
Aiden stared at him. "Stabilized? You make it sound like I'm infected."
"Because you might be," Ren replied bluntly. "Void exposure at that level either mutates you or kills you. But your vitals aren't collapsing. They're… adapting."
Aiden looked away.
That was what frightened him the most.
Ren rubbed his temples. "We need answers. And fast. Because this isn't a normal incursion. Reports from three continents say the same thing—Gates collapsing from the inside, Voidspawn emerging without measurable wormhole signatures, and people manifesting… abilities."
"You mean I'm not the only one?" Aiden asked softly.
"No. And that's the part that terrifies our analysts." Ren stood up. "You're not an anomaly. You're part of a pattern."
A chill ran down Aiden's spine.
Before he could respond, alarms blared through the shelter.
[WARNING — Spatial Anomaly Approaching][Shield Integrity: 83% → 69%]
Ren snapped to attention. "Damn it. They're probing us again."
He turned to Aiden. "Can you stand?"
Barely. But Aiden nodded.
Ren tossed him a reinforced jacket. "Then you're coming to see something. You might be the only one who can make sense of it."
They stepped out into the central courtyard just as the barrier flickered overhead. A swirl of corrupted mist pressed against the energy dome, scraping like invisible nails searching for a crack.
Aiden felt the pressure instinctively—like the void itself recognizing him.
His mark pulsed.
Ren noticed. "Does that happen every time a Rift shifts?"
Aiden swallowed. "I… think it reacts to them."
"Then this will be useful."
Ren led him toward the perimeter platform where several researchers stood around a floating projection field. As they approached, the hologram sharpened.
It showed the sky outside the shelter—distorted, trembling, and tearing at a microscopic level.
Not a Gate opening.
Not a Rift.
Something else.
Dr. Lyra Vance, chief researcher of spatial anomalies, turned sharply when she saw them. Her white coat was smeared with crimson dust, her copper hair tied messily back. She looked exhausted, but her eyes crackled with intensity.
"Commander. And you must be Aiden Cross."
Aiden nodded warily.
Lyra gestured to the projection. "This is the problem."
The image zoomed in until the cracks in the air looked like pale scars. They writhed slowly, forming a familiar shape—a swirling ring.
Aiden froze.
His palm tingled.
His mark glowed faintly.
Lyra noticed instantly. "Just as expected."
Ren frowned. "What are you seeing that I'm not?"
Lyra pointed. "This pattern isn't random. It's following a structure—one identical to the energy signature embedded in Aiden's void mark."
Aiden's pulse quickened. "Are you saying this… thing… outside is responding to me?"
"Possibly," Lyra said. "Or worse: it's searching for you."
The barrier groaned overhead as the cracks spread.
Ren's jaw tightened. "How long until it breaches the outer dome?"
"Based on current pressure—" Lyra glanced at her tablet— "maybe three minutes."
Aiden felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
Three minutes.
Ren turned to him. "Can you feel anything else? Any instinct? Any… pull?"
Aiden closed his eyes.
And felt it.
A faint thread—like a whisper at the back of his mind.Calling.Pulling.Urging.
His breath caught.
"It wants something," he murmured. "Or… someone."
Lyra stepped closer. "You, Aiden. It wants you."
A violent tremor ripped through the protective dome. Sparks rained from the overhead generators. Researchers scrambled. Guards raised rifles toward the barrier.
[Shield Integrity: 38%]
Ren gritted his teeth. "We need options. Now."
Lyra looked at Aiden. "Your Voidbound skill—have you tried activating it manually?"
"I didn't know I could."
"Then try," she said firmly. "If that anomaly is attuned to your mark, your ability might stabilize or repel it. Or at the very least, interfere with its frequency."
Aiden stared at his trembling hand.
Voidbound.
A skill he didn't understand. A power he didn't want. But if this Dome fell, everyone inside—
He drew a breath.
Focused.
And willed the skill to activate.
The world dimmed.
Shadows coiled around his arm in spiraling rings. The void mark turned pitch-black, expanding across his skin like living ink. A pulse of cold energy burst outward—unseen, but felt by everyone nearby.
Aiden gasped. His knees buckled.
Lyra steadied him. "What do you feel?"
"Pressure," Aiden whispered. "Like something is pressing back… like I'm touching the anomaly directly."
The cracks in the air outside shivered violently.
Ren stared. "Is it reacting?"
Lyra nodded. "More than reacting. It's syncing."
Aiden gritted his teeth as pain shot through him.
He saw images—blurry, violent, terrifying.
A swirling void.A colossal shape drifting in the darkness.Something watching him.Something aware.Something ancient.
His heart hammered.
He saw an eye—a massive, slit pupil surrounded by swirling galaxies—snap open.
Then a voice whispered inside him.
Found you.
Aiden screamed—
—and the Dome shattered.
A wave of corrupted air blasted inward, hurling guards off their feet. Lights exploded. The ground trembled as spatial fractures zigzagged across the courtyard.
Ren shielded Lyra. "GET DOWN!"
Dust erupted.
When the shockwave cleared, Aiden staggered forward, dizzy and trembling.
But standing outside the shattered dome…Where the cracks had converged…Something now formed.
Not a beast.Not a Voidspawn.
A figure.
Humanoid.Hooded in swirling void.Towering, but faintly translucent—like it wasn't fully here yet.
Its presence made the air ripple.
Aiden's legs nearly collapsed.
Lyra stared in terror. "What… what is that?"
Ren raised his weapon, voice hoarse. "A high-tier entity?"
The figure lifted its head.
And through the swirling void, Aiden saw two pale eyes—cold, calculating, and impossibly ancient.
"Aiden Cross," the figure said, its voice layered like overlapping echoes.
Everyone froze.
It knew his name.
The figure extended a hand toward him.
"At last," it whispered. "The Lost Heir of the Void… has awakened."
Aiden's blood ran cold.
The courtyard erupted into chaos.