The Grey Reach did not wake gently.
Lyra felt it before the alarm was sounded, a sharp pull beneath her ribs, as if the Starfire itself had been seized and shaken. She sat upright, breath catching, palms already glowing faintly as the stone beneath her feet vibrated in warning. This was not probing. This was not observation. This was an intrusion meant to break something.
The first impact struck the outer wards like a clenched fist. The air shuddered, lights flaring along the carved runes that lined the corridors. Somewhere deeper in the Reach, stone groaned under pressure. Lyra was already moving before Seris reached her door.
They are inside, Seris said, voice tight. Not fully. But close enough.
Lyra followed at a run, bare feet slapping against cold stone. The Starfire surged with every step, no longer content to sit quietly beneath her skin. It wanted release. It wanted response.
The central chamber was chaos contained. Watchers moved in precise formation, reinforcing collapsing barriers, voices raised in sharp commands. Kaelin stood at the heart of it all, hands pressed to the map stone as glowing lines fractured and reformed beneath his touch.
Three breaches, he said without looking up. Eastern gallery, lower spiral, and the Veil corridor. They are coordinated. This is not a test.
The floor trembled again, stronger this time. A scream echoed from one of the outer halls, cut short so abruptly that Lyra's stomach twisted.
Someone is hurt, she said.
Kaelin met her gaze at last. Yes. And if we divert too much force to rescue, the inner wards will fail.
The words landed like a blade between her ribs. The Starfire flared in response, bright enough to cast silver light across the chamber. Lyra clenched her fists, fighting the instinct to unleash it. Control, she reminded herself. Control before action.
Seris stepped forward. I will take a unit to the lower spiral. We cannot leave them exposed.
Kaelin hesitated, eyes flicking back to the map. If you go, you weaken the core.
Lyra took a breath, steadying herself. Then I will hold it.
Both of them turned to her.
Kaelin's voice lowered. You are not ready.
Lyra met his gaze without flinching. I am awake. And if I do nothing, people die.
The silence that followed was heavy, fractured only by the distant sound of stone splitting under pressure. Kaelin searched her face, not for power, but for resolve. Whatever he saw made his jaw tighten.
Very well, he said. But you do not pursue. You anchor. You stabilize. Nothing more.
Seris squeezed Lyra's shoulder once before turning away, already issuing commands. Stay alive, she said quietly.
Lyra stepped into the center of the chamber as the Watchers pulled back. The map stone beneath her feet burned cold, symbols flaring as if recognizing her presence. The Starfire surged, no longer restrained, flooding her senses with the Reach's pain, fear, and resistance.
She closed her eyes.
The moment she opened herself fully, the world expanded. Corridors unfolded in her mind, every ward a thread, every stone a note in a vast, strained harmony. The breaches burned like wounds, jagged and raw. And beyond them, shadows pressed inward, intelligent and relentless.
Lyra raised her hands. Light poured from her palms, not in violent bursts, but in controlled streams that wove into the damaged wards. The strain was immediate. Her vision blurred, teeth gritting as the Starfire demanded more than she had ever given.
Hold, she whispered, though no sound left her mouth. Just hold.
The eastern gallery flared, sealing momentarily. The lower spiral stabilized. But the Veil corridor pulsed, resisting her efforts, something on the other side pushing back with equal force.
Pain lanced through her skull. Memories not her own bled into her thoughts, fragments of ancient Starborn who had stood where she stood and broken under the weight.
You are not enough, a presence pressed against her mind, cold and vast. You will fracture as they did.
Lyra gasped, knees buckling. The chamber tilted, stone and light blurring together. For one terrifying moment, she felt herself slipping, the Starfire stretching beyond her control.
No, she thought fiercely.
She anchored herself not in power, but in choice. In the faces she had seen in the Reach. In the scream that had cut off too soon. In the simple truth that she refused to be a weapon wielded by fear.
The Starfire responded, shifting, tightening, no longer a raging current but a focused core. The pressure eased just enough for her to breathe.
The Veil corridor sealed with a thunderous crack. The shadows recoiled, their presence snapping away like a severed thread.
Silence fell.
Lyra collapsed to one knee, hands trembling, light fading from her skin. The chamber swam as Kaelin and several Watchers rushed forward.
You overreached, Kaelin said, though there was no anger in his voice. Only concern and something like awe.
Lyra forced herself upright. Did it hold?
He nodded. The breaches are sealed. Seris' unit has secured the injured. We lost no one.
Relief hit her harder than the strain had. Her legs nearly gave out again, but she stayed standing, jaw set.
Then the map stone shifted.
A new symbol burned into the surface, one that had not been there before. A mark deep and unmistakable.
Kaelin stared at it, expression darkening. They marked you, he said.
Lyra's pulse spiked. Marked me how?
As a target, he replied. As a challenge. You did not just repel them. You announced yourself.
The weight of that settled slowly, heavily. Lyra looked down at her hands, still faintly glowing. She had held the line. She had saved lives. And in doing so, she had crossed a threshold she could never step back from.
Good, she said quietly. Let them come.
Kaelin studied her for a long moment. Then he inclined his head.
The Reach will not forget what you did today, he said. Nor will those who watch from beyond it.
Lyra straightened, exhaustion and resolve intertwining in her chest. The fear was still there, but it no longer ruled her.
If this was the price of restraint, she would pay it.
And if drama was what the shadows wanted, she would decide how the story unfolded.