The chamber was ancient as the whispers of the wind.
Stone columns rose like sentinels into the dark, etched with glyphs that glowed softly, lines of emerald and ember flowing like blood through stone. Vaulted ceiling arched high above, shrouded in shadow. Consoles breathed slow pulses of ghostly light. Narrow windows framed the jungle night beyond. Miasma pressed against the glass, a slow‑dancing tide of sickness and light, but it did not cross the threshold.
At the heart of the chamber sat the throne, dark and commanding.
Near it, a low circular table was cluttered with relics. Between the artifacts, a box lay open in front of the girl with the violet lips, filled with turquoise crystals that burned like fire caught in ice.
She lifted one between two long fingers, watching the light curl across her skin. Her other hand tapped her thigh in rhythm, thoughtful, habitual.
“I know where to sell them in Revantis,” she said. “Someone with a clean rig. They’ll extract the SynVita properly.”
"Assuming we make it back," the man across from her muttered.
He was heavyset, armored in dull steel and scars, with a cybernetic arm resting on the table like a metal challenge. A man carved from duty and stubborn resolve. He hadn’t slept in days, but fatigue rolled off him like rain from sealed armor.
The third figure didn’t sit. He hovered just outside the table’s edge, nervously plucking at the straps of his tunic with a hand. Gaunt, jittery, his sunken cheeks and patchy stubble gave him the look of a cave wraith. His eyes danced around, as if every object in the room might explode at any moment.
“Revantis,” he said. “Gang wars, curfews, surveillance spires. It’s a damned hornet hive.”
The woman with bluish skin offered a faint smile. “And yet, here we are, planning our return.”
He flinched. “Knowledge is like fruit. It rots if left buried.”
"Then I hope you like the taste of compost," the soldier grunted.
Their eyes drifted to the final figure, lean, young, seated cross-legged by a column, head rested, lids fluttering as if dreaming. At that moment, she opened her eyes, watching light dance on the mezzanine rail above. Blond braid tight at her temple, green eyes narrowed in thought.
The soldier shifted. “Thalyn, were you in another memory session?”
She met his gaze. “Yes. I was surrounded by zealots. Their leaders called me a legend reborn, and recounted some of my mythical achievements.”
Arvie, her AI companion, slipped into her thoughts, dry and amused.
“Legend reborn: sounds like kick‑starter marketing for demigods.”
A faint, grin tried to tug at her lips, but she resisted. “He was a gaunt man in rags… like Korr,” she said, glancing at the jittery scholar. “Mixed with Elara’s bluish skin,” she added, nodding toward the woman with the violet eyes.
The soldier snorted. “You left me out of the mixture.”
Thalyn’s lips twitched. “You? Commander, you’d have punched the first person who bowed.”
Korr cleared his throat. “Please continue.”
“Then Aedan pinged me. Told me to use their belief, to save Larek.”
“Larek,” Elara brow furrowed. “Wasn’t he the head of Directorate?”
Thalyn nodded. “The preacher said I had to pass three trials, wisdom, compassion, valor.”
Elara placed an elbow to the table. “And?”
“I started with wisdom. Told them it would be wise if they helped me save Larek… and restore his position. They accepted.”
“Just like that?” Korr asked.
“They thought I was their savior,” she said. “I only gave them something they could act on.”
The moment stretched as the glow from the crystals danced faintly in Thalyn’s eyes.
The urge was still there, tugging just behind the navel, a slow pressure rising like tidewater, like a whisper in her guts. "We shouldn’t wait long," she said finally. "I have to find the artifact."
“We also need to sell the salvage, and don’t rush the sale.” Commander Jaxon said. His cybernetic fingers tapped once, sharp against stone. “Revantis may be broken, but word travels. Faster than knives.”
“We should cache the haul in a safe place,” Elara said, turning one of the crystals between her fingers. “Yes, we have to find the safe place first.”
"Assuming we get through the gates," Korr muttered. “Directorate patrols still run spot-checks in the outer sectors. That means ID sweeps, data traces, neural prints. We’re off-grid, clean on the board. Get pinged once, and we're on the list.”
“I’ve traded in Revantis before,” Thalyn replied, voice level. “We do it quiet. Back-doors. Slums. No lords. No brokers with long tongues.”
“You’ve sold spice and trinkets,” he sniffed. “Not relics or thalorite.”
“I know someone for the thalorite,” Dr. Elara Voss said. “Works the relay levels. Trades in dense SynVita and doesn’t blink at the glowing ore. Old friend. Still owes me a liver.”
A pause.
Jaxon picked up a bone ring inscribed with faint glyphs and turned it once in his hand. “Abrisen lost the leash, but he’ll have stalkers sniffing the gates. We go in clean, fast. No delays.”
"And no luxuries," Korr added. “No synth-wine, no detours. Just dump the goods, grab supplies, and get out.”
“We’re not leaving until we find the artifact” Thalyn reminded them.
“If the stalkers don’t get us,” Elara murmured, “the gangs just might.”
Then Jaxon said what none of them wanted to admit.
“Getting back will be harder than the first run. We had Nira then.”
That name fell like a blade.
For a moment Thalyn simply stood, shoulders square, eyes bright with thought. Then she turned toward the far passage, her stride quiet, deliberate.
"Maybe it's time," she said, "to ask for a better weapon."
Arvie’s voice stirred in her mind, a lazy drawl.
"Oh good, let’s go ask the ancient murder gods for a bigger stick. What could go wrong?"
Thalyn smirked and disappeared into the inner corridor.
The deeper chamber welcomed her in silence. The second throne waited, quiet and unlit beneath the columned vault. A sentinel droid stood near an alcove, silent.
“I need a better weapon,” she said.
The droid turned, lenses adjusting with a faint chirp. “Mistress, your civilizations are not prepared for Elder weapons.”
She folded her arms. “Not asking to conquer the stars. We’re heading back through the jungle. We’ve lost our ranger. It’ll be worse this time.”
A pause. The droid’s lights flickered once. “Please wait.”
She did.
After a moment, another droid glided in from the side chamber. It held something between its pincers, a familiar, metallic sphere.
Her brows lifted. “That’s the artifact from the cave,” she said. “You told me I wasn’t ready for it.”
The droid’s tone did not change. “Do not experiment with it. Keep it with you at all times. You will understand it in time.”
She took it carefully. The surface was cold, but tingled like living stone. “Why now?”
“Because you are walking toward your purpose,” the drone replied. “It will keep the jungle away.”
Her grip tightened on the sphere.
“Cryptic bots,” Arvie smirked. “Worse than chanters. At least chanters have flair. These guys wouldn’t know drama if it kicked their hydraulic teeth in.”16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzh6xpjXu7E
Thalyn turned without a word and walked back.
When she stepped into the chamber, the others looked up. She held the sphere out briefly for them to see, and dropped it into the pouch on her hip.
“It’ll protect us in the jungle,” she said. “Don’t touch it.”
Korr frowned. “Why not?”
“It’ll bite.”
He muttered something about discrimination and favoritism and turned back to sorting parts.
Jaxon gave a firm nod.
Elara tapped her thigh. “If it keeps the Nether beasts off us,” she said, “then maybe we’ve got a chance.”
Thalyn’s eyes sparkled, “If the artifact repels the beasts, maybe we skip the gates entirely. Drop into the cavern bands and come up inside. Dangerous, but less watched.”
The idea lingered.
For a few moments more, they spoke quietly. Discussed ingress routes, old tunnels beneath the city walls, possible contacts on the inside.
Eventually, they drifted to their mats, bundled near the base of the mezzanine wall, beneath shelves of ancient tools. Jaxon was the last to lie down, his weight settling slow, one hand always near his sidearm.
And in the dark, the throne kept watch.
“Sleep tight,” Arvie whispered in Thalyn’s thoughts. “Try not to dream of glowing spheres and inevitable doom. That’s my job.”
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