(Chapter 8)
Ilya could feel it breathing.
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Not air.
Not lungs.
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But something vast and internal—an expansion and contraction that had nothing to do with life as she understood it.
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Her hand remained pressed against the surface.
Or inside it.
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The boundary had become meaningless.
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"Ilya."
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Soren's voice sounded distant.
Muted.
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As if it had to pass through layers of something dense to reach her.
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"Take your hand off."
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She tried.
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Nothing happened.
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Not because she couldn't move—
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But because she no longer knew where her hand ended.
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"It won't let go," she said.
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That wasn't entirely true.
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It wasn't holding her.
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It was including her.
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Behind her, the others shifted uneasily.
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"What did you do?" one of the wolves asked.
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"I didn't do anything," Soren replied.
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His voice was tight now.
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"This was already here."
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Selene stepped closer, her movements slower than usual, as if testing the ground with each step.
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"What do you see?" she asked.
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Ilya blinked.
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For a moment, the question didn't make sense.
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Then—
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Everything rushed back.
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Not memories.
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Something else.
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Fragments.
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Not hers.
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Not anyone's.
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Pieces of something larger.
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"I see…" she hesitated.
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How do you describe something that doesn't fit into thought?
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"…before," she finished.
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Selene frowned.
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"Before what?"
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Ilya's breath trembled.
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"Before we were separate."
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Silence fell hard.
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Soren stepped closer.
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"That's not possible."
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"No," Ilya said softly.
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"But it's real."
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The surface beneath her hand shifted again.
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Not physically.
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But internally.
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Like something rearranging itself in response to her presence.
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"I need you to step back," Soren said.
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"I can't."
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"You have to try."
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"I am."
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That made his expression darken.
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Behind them—
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A branch snapped.
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Everyone turned.
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The sound came again.
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Closer.
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"They followed us," one of the wolves growled.
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"No," Selene said quietly.
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Her eyes narrowed.
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"That's not one of ours."
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The air changed.
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Sharpened.
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The same wrongness from before—but stronger now.
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More focused.
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It stepped from the edge of the forest.
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Not alone.
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This time—
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There were two.
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The first was familiar.
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The same shifting, unstable form they had seen before.
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The second—
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Was worse.
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More defined.
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Its shape held longer before flickering.
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Its movements were smoother.
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More certain.
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"They're evolving," Ilya whispered.
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Soren's attention snapped back to her.
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"What?"
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"It's learning," she said.
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The first one tilted its head.
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As if hearing her.
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"She understands," it said.
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The second one did not speak.
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It only watched.
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Hungry.
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Selene stepped forward, placing herself between them and the others.
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"Stay back," she said.
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Whether she meant it for the wolves or the creatures—
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No one knew.
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"What are they?" one of the vampires asked.
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The first one smiled.
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"We told you."
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Its voice slid into their minds like something unwelcome.
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"You are what we are not."
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"That's not an answer," Soren snapped.
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"It is the only one you're capable of understanding."
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The second one moved.
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Faster than the first.
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Faster than expected.
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It crossed half the distance between them in a single motion—
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Then stopped.
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Not because it chose to.
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Because something held it.
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Ilya gasped.
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The structure beneath her hand surged.
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The rhythm—
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No—
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The chorus—
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Exploded outward.
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A pressure wave rippled through the clearing.
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Not physical.
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But absolute.
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The second creature froze.
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Its form flickering violently now.
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Unstable.
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Incomplete.
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"No," it said.
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Its voice different.
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Less controlled.
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More raw.
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"You're not ready."
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Ilya's vision blurred.
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More fragments.
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More pieces.
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She saw—
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A form.
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Whole.
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Balanced.
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Not wolf.
Not vampire.
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Both.
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Neither.
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Something else.
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Something complete.
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"They broke," she whispered.
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Soren looked at her.
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"What?"
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"They didn't divide us," she said.
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Her voice growing stronger.
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"We broke."
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The first creature tilted its head.
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"Close," it said.
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"But not quite."
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The second one strained against whatever held it.
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"You shouldn't be here," it hissed.
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"This is ours."
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"No," Ilya said.
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The word came out stronger than she expected.
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Clear.
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Certain.
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"This is us."
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The structure pulsed.
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Responding.
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Agreeing.
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The ground beneath them shifted again.
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More noticeably this time.
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Cracks forming.
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Lines spreading outward from the base of the structure.
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"What's happening?" someone shouted.
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Selene didn't answer.
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Because she already knew.
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Or thought she did.
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"It's waking up," she said.
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"No," Ilya replied.
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She pulled her hand—
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And this time—
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It came free.
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The surface sealed behind it instantly.
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Like it had never been broken.
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But something had changed.
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Not in the structure.
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In her.
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The rhythm—
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The chorus—
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It was inside her now.
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Fully.
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Complete.
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She turned.
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Looked at the creatures.
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Really looked at them.
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And saw—
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The gaps.
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The instability.
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The missing pieces.
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"You're incomplete," she said.
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The first one smiled wider.
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"Yes."
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The second one snarled.
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"No."
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Ilya took a step forward.
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This time—
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No one tried to stop her.
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Because something in her had changed.
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Something they could all feel.
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"You're trying to become something you remember," she continued.
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The first one nodded slowly.
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"Yes."
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"But you don't remember it right."
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That made it pause.
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For the first time.
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The second one lunged.
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This time—
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Nothing stopped it.
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It moved too fast.
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Too sudden.
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Too—
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Ilya raised her hand.
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Not consciously.
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Not deliberately.
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It just—
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Happened.
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The world stilled.
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Not time.
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Not movement.
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Something deeper.
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The creature froze mid-motion.
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Its form flickering violently.
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Breaking apart at the edges.
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"No," it said again.
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But this time—
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There was fear.
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"You're not whole," Ilya said.
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Her voice echoed slightly.
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Layered.
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Not just hers anymore.
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"And you can't become whole by taking pieces."
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The first creature's smile faltered.
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"That's exactly how it works."
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"No," Ilya said again.
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Stronger.
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"Not anymore."
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The structure behind her pulsed once.
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In agreement.
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The cracks in the ground spread further.
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Light—faint, pale, unnatural—began to seep through them.
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"What are you doing?" Soren demanded.
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Ilya didn't look back.
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"Fixing it."
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"That's not reassuring!"
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"I know."
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The second creature screamed.
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Its form collapsing inward—
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Then snapping back.
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Stronger.
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More stable.
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Adapting.
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"It's learning," Selene said.
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"Yes," Ilya replied.
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"So am I."
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The first creature stepped forward.
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"No," it said.
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"You're remembering."
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Ilya smiled.
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For the first time.
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"Same thing."
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The ground split wider.
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The light grew brighter.
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And something beneath it—
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Moved.
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Not waking.
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Not yet.
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But turning.
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Toward them.
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Toward her.
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And for the first time—
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Ilya understood what the thing in her chest had always been.
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Not a call.
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Not a signal.
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Not a memory.
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A beginning.