Lance's breath hitched as the twitch inside him flared hotter than ever. He clenched his fists, desperate to push back the encroaching darkness, to hold the refuge together just a little longer.
His hands glowed—pale, sickly light leaking from his fingertips—and the air bent, shimmering like heat waves on a cracked pavement.
He forced himself to reach deeper, to grab hold of the power lurking beneath the chaos.
But instead of control, the power twisted.
The light around his hands warped into jagged shards of black glass, shards that stabbed outward, fracturing the very air.
A sharp crack echoed as a fissure tore open beneath their feet, sending splinters of the warped orchard bursting through the floor like grasping claws.
Dani staggered back, eyes wide. "Lance, what the hell—?"
He shook his head, jaw clenched tight, but the twitch was no longer his to command. It writhed and convulsed inside him like a living parasite, feeding off his fear and pain.
A low, guttural sound rose from the fissure, a hungry whisper curling through the shards.
Kenton raised his shard barrier again, but the fractured space pressed through—the black glass shards exploded outward, piercing the crystal like shattered promises.
Lance's vision blurred, reality bending in on itself.
The child-version of himself appeared at his side again, eyes wide and unreadable.
"You don't control it. It controls you."
His own voice was a strangled whisper. "I'm trying... I swear I'm trying..."
But the power was wrong. Corrupted. Something old and terrible had slipped inside.
The refuge trembled violently, the air thick with the scent of burnt ozone and decay.
Lance's hands began to bleed faintly, black veins snaking up his wrists as the twitch clawed deeper.
He swallowed hard, a scream caught in his throat, and realized—this wasn't salvation.
It was surrender.
And the world was still falling apart.
Lance fell to his knees, his trembling hands pressing against the jagged shards of reality that stabbed up from the broken floor like fractured glass. The light that had leaked from his fingertips twisted and cracked in ways that felt alien—wrong. A low, wet whisper curled through the fissure, a voice without words but full of hunger.
His vision blurred, the edges folding in and out of focus, until it wasn't just the room that was breaking—it was him.
Images flooded his mind like a broken film reel.
Flickers of a place he didn't recognize.
A face, rough and weary.
Hands roughened by years of work, not his own.
A laugh, brittle but familiar, echoed in his head.
He blinked, fighting the surge of confusion. These weren't his memories. They were someone else's. Yet somehow, they felt threaded into his soul, binding him to a past he never lived.
"Wh—who are you?" he whispered, voice cracking.
The child-version of himself lingered beside him, expression unreadable but somehow mournful.
"You don't know yet. But soon, you will."
Lance pressed his palms harder into the glass shards, the pain sharp and grounding. The refuge around them shuddered violently, the fragile walls bending and warping with the pressure of the anomaly's presence.
Dani's voice snapped through the chaos, harsh and desperate.
"Lance, focus! You're tearing us apart!"
He shook his head, trying to silence the voices inside him, but the memories pulsed stronger.
Hands gripping a steering wheel.
Fingers brushing a dusty photo.
The smell of gasoline and rain.
He coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, black veins crawling up his wrists like ink spilled from an unseen pen.
"Not mine..." he gasped. "Not mine..."
Kenton moved cautiously to his side, eyes sharp but shadowed with concern.
"You're pulling something inside you apart," Kenton said quietly, voice low. "I don't know what it is, but it's tearing at your mind."
Lance's jaw clenched tight. The power inside him was no longer his to wield—it writhed like a parasite, feeding on his doubt and fear. Every attempt to control it only pushed it deeper.
He forced himself to stand, swaying slightly.
Dani watched him closely, her usual bravado tempered by exhaustion and worry.
"We can't stay here," she said. "This place won't hold."
Behind them, the fractured refuge groaned. Shadows slithered along the walls, shifting and reaching, the very air thick with menace.
Kenton raised his hands, the crystalline shards forming a jagged barrier—but even his defense flickered under the strain.
"We need a plan," he said, voice steady despite the cracks in the barrier. "Lance, can you hold it? Just for a little longer?"
Lance swallowed hard, the black veins tightening across his skin like constricting roots.
"I... I'll try," he said, voice ragged.
But deep inside, the memories pressed harder.
The face grew clearer—tired eyes haunted by loss and regret. A voice, faint but insistent.
"You don't belong here. You're just a shadow of what should've been."
Lance staggered, gripping the edge of a warped table for support.
"What do you want from me?" he whispered, panic rising.
The child-version of himself watched silently, eyes glowing faintly.
"To be seen. To be remembered. To be whole."
Lance's fingers twitched involuntarily. The shards beneath him pulsed with dark energy, threatening to rupture the fragile sanctuary completely.
Dani stepped forward, her voice firm but gentle.
"Look at me, Lance. We're still here. You're not alone."
He met her gaze, but the storm inside him raged on, memories flooding his mind like a torrent.
He saw a road slick with rain.
A flicker of headlights.
A hand reaching out, trembling.
A name whispered in the dark.
None of it was his. But it felt like his own undoing.
His breath hitched, and he sank to the floor, clutching his head.
"I can't—" he began.
"Don't fight it alone," Dani said, kneeling beside him.
Kenton's barrier flickered, shards shimmering in the dying light.
"We have to move. This place is collapsing."
The warped reality around them began to fold, walls bending like paper under invisible hands.
The refuge—their fragile sanctuary—was dying.
Lance forced himself up, leaning heavily on Dani.
The memories pulsed one last time, whispering promises and threats he didn't understand.
He swallowed his fear, trying to hold onto the last shred of himself.
But the child-version of him lingered in the corner of his vision, a reminder that the war inside was far from over.
The walls groaned like ancient bones twisting under unbearable strain. The refuge—fragile and flickering—was folding in on itself, reality unraveling as if the very concept of safety was a cruel joke.
Dani hauled Lance to his feet, her grip tight but shaking. "We have to get out now. This place won't hold."
Kenton's crystalline barrier shattered, shards raining down like sharp glass as the warped Hollow Reach bled through the fractures. He staggered back, breath quick, eyes wide—his pupils shrinking into pinpricks of fear.
"It's destabilizing me," he gasped. His voice was low but urgent. "The anomaly isn't just outside—it's inside me. I feel it ripping at the edges."
His hands glowed faintly as jagged crystalline spikes erupted from his forearms, twisting upward like jagged wings. They weren't his—they were something else, something alien grafted onto him by the Reach's corrupting power. The spikes shimmered with dangerous light, humming low—a weapon born of metaphysical fracture.
Kenton flexed the spikes cautiously, eyes darting to Lance. "I don't know how long I can hold this... but maybe I can keep us safe a little longer."
Lance's chest heaved, the black veins crawling over his skin like living ink. His mind tore open again—memories crashing like tidal waves, each one a whispering wound.
A rain-soaked street, the smell of gasoline, the desperate rush of fleeing headlights. A man's voice, ragged and distant—not his voice, but haunting.
"I'm not who you think I am."
The child-version of himself watched from the corner of his vision, expression unreadable but heavy with sorrow.
Lance staggered, vision swimming. His fingers convulsed, and the broken floor beneath them rippled as if breathing.
Dani cursed under her breath. "Lance! Focus! You're tearing reality apart!"
"I'm trying!" he rasped, but it was a lie. The parasite inside him writhed, forcing memories and pain into the front of his mind like jagged shards.
Kenton stepped forward, crystalline spikes ready, but his voice was calm, steady despite the chaos. "We need to move. Now."
The trio pushed forward, slipping through twisting corridors that bent and fractured behind them, reality folding like cracked glass.
Lance's legs trembled, every step a battle. The memories clawed at his mind with increasing intensity, threatening to drown him in another life he never lived—an identity he wasn't sure was his or someone else's.
A sudden flash: the man's face from the memories, eyes haunted, staring straight at him—filled with regret and something desperate.
"Remember me," the voice whispered in his mind.
Lance's scream caught in his throat.
Dani grabbed his arm, steadying him. "You're here. With us. Don't let it win."
Behind them, the Hollow Reach groaned deeper, the air thickening, the walls bending until they seemed about to snap and crush the fragile trio.
Kenton's crystalline spikes erupted suddenly, slicing through warped shadow-forms that lunged at them from the walls, their inky tendrils grasping and recoiling.
"It's hunting us!" Kenton shouted, voice strained. "This place isn't just collapsing—it's alive. Trying to consume us."
Lance felt the twitch inside him flare—a cold, electric surge that pulsed through his veins. He hesitated, then raised trembling hands, willing the broken space to bend, to hold—just for a moment.
The warped floor beneath them slowed its pulse, the walls stilled, and the suffocating darkness faltered.
But the relief was brief.
The child-version of Lance stepped closer, voice barely audible.
"You can't hide from me forever."
The memories surged harder, tearing at his mind. He stumbled, nearly falling as the world fractured around him.
Dani caught him quickly, eyes wide with fear and determination.
"We can't run forever," she said. "We have to fight through this."
Kenton nodded, crystalline spikes flaring like a guardian's halo. "Together."
Lance swallowed the rising terror, pushing back against the flood inside.
"I'm... still here," he whispered. "Still me."
The refuge shattered with a deafening crack, and they plunged into the unknown dark, the broken Hollow Reach swallowing them whole.