Currents slammed into us the instant we left the violet dome, like waves hammering a tide gate that should never have opened. Stone, glass, and motes spiraled in a chaos funnel, trying to drag us back into the fissure's throat. My arms already shook from sealing the seed, now they burned as I forced an opening big enough to shove the team through.
"Keep your head down," Ashekan growled at Darun, anchoring the larger soldier by his damaged pauldron. Darun replied with a grunt, half pain, half humor, as another shard bounced off his helmet. We broke free of the whirlpool and shot upward into the twisting tunnel.
The shaft no longer felt like the same passage we had entered. Fractures spidered across the walls, glowing faintly where motes clung to the cracks. Pockets of reversed flow lurked, humming low, a sound felt more in my bones than in my ears. Behind me, Rejah muttered to her slate, the click of her fingers on glyphs like anxious teeth.
A hundred lengths up, the current suddenly bucked left. Instinct screamed, and I jerked hard, pulling Yera with me just as water flipped direction. Ashekan shouted, too late to warn Thalen, Jori, and Veshra, who slammed into a wall. Their armor rang, scattering grit, but they pushed back to formation, grimacing through the ache.
"This throat is degrading," Rejah said, voice tight. "Mirror fractures are throwing gravity echoes."
Yera glanced back at her, never slowing. "Translate that."
"It means at any moment the flow could fold on itself, and we could be dropped down instead of up," she snapped, fingers flying over the slate.
I forced another current open, my pearl sputtering a weak pulse, each surge dragging more pain into my arms. My gills burned, breath catching as the tunnel twisted again, but I kept the team climbing.
A side cavern opened to our left, shielded by a jutting fan of rock. Yera signaled, and we slipped inside. The silence here felt unnatural, pressing tight around us, broken only by the hiss of our breathing. Lamps revealed resin crates stacked against the wall, stamped with old mirror symbols. They were sealed and dusted with the age of centuries.
"Quick triage," Yera ordered. "Three breaths, then we move."
We formed a rough circle. Rejah snapped a field binder patch onto Darun's shoulder. He winced hard, breath hissing. "Feels like nettle venom," he muttered.
"That means it's working," she replied.
Darun smirked through the pain. "Or it just hates me."
I checked Jori's visor for cracks; his grin was unsteady but real. "Just bruises. Mirrors kiss harder than hatch-trial walls."
Veshra crouched near a crate, prying it open. Inside was a mirror sheet wrapped in brittle kelp paper. When she unwrapped it, our lamp beams reflected and held for a breath too long, storing light like memory. She tucked it into her satchel.
Yera's voice was low. "That stays with the labs."
"For research," Veshra said simply, and the commander let it go.
"About that mech," Ashekan began, wiping blood from his lip. "It watched us. That is new."
"And it carried multiple organs," Rejah added. "If they can fuse more than one, our earlier tactics won't hold."
Yera scanned the walls, every line of her posture hard. "Information first, fear later. Ashekan, Darun, you deliver the report to the council vaults."
"Warn them the motes thin beyond mirrors," Veshra said as she adjusted her satchel.
Darun flexed his patched shoulder, grimacing. "If one of those machines shows up, I'll spear it just to make a point."
Yera's mouth almost curved. "Sometimes blunt edges are all we have."
"See?" he muttered to Ashekan as they pushed off. "She likes it."
"Hardly," she replied, but didn't stop him.
We reentered the main shaft. Twice, currents snapped sideways without warning, slamming us into stone. The second twist drove me into a basalt ridge, pain lighting my hip. Worse was the shock to my pearl; its glow nearly died, leaving only a dim ember.
Rejah's dampener shrieked; she swore and forced a recalibration. The humming eased. Ashekan drifted beside me, face set. "No more surprises," he said.
I almost agreed, but the tunnel disagreed. A vacuum pocket bloomed overhead, sucking our lamps out. Darkness swallowed everything. For two heartbeats, there was nothing but the scrape of my gloves. "On me," I hissed, forcing a low-pressure bubble. Water sluiced back into place, collapsing the pocket. Jori let out a nervous laugh. "Kaelen, don't stop doing that."
"I might not have a choice," I muttered, dragging breath through raw gills.
We burst from the tunnel onto a ledge overlooking the reef outskirts. Dawn-cycle light filtered through the water, pale gold against the spires. For one fragile moment, the current felt clean. The reef below shimmered, nursery domes, bloom troughs, watchlights, and hope almost returned.
Then I saw them.
Violet filaments drifted through the current, spiraling around outer spires like ash. Too thin for mirrors to repel. Too quiet to fight with simple tricks.
Yera's voice cut through the unease. "Split."
Assignments came fast: Ashekan and Darun to the council vaults, Veshra and Jori to the artisan labs with the shard, Rejah and me to glyphbay for containment prep. Orders where given, there was no debate.
Ashekan saluted, an efficient snap, and vanished with Darun in a hard stroke. Veshra secured the mirror and darted off with Jori. Yera jerked her chin at me. "Half a tide. Move."
I asked, "Commander, what about you?"
"I will brief perimeter watch." She paused, almost touched my shoulder, but only nodded. "Keep breathing."
We dove.
A mist conduit crossed our path, glowing faintly aqua. The water inside twisted sideways. I slowed, brushing the edge with my fins. Rejah stiffened but stayed close.
A ripple of pressure rolled through me, not painful, just enormous. Deep in the mist, a golden eye opened, then closed again. The current shaped into a single thought:
Metal learns faster than coral.
The conduit fell still. Rejah whispered, "Did it speak?"
"Not aloud," I said. My spine crawled. There was no time to linger.
Glyphbay six shimmered ahead, runes humming at quarter strength. We delivered our shards to a clerk who scanned them, eyes widening. He motioned us to wait. The council chamber doors glowed, sealed. We perched outside, listening to the argument through vents.
"…multi-organ suits—""—mirrors fail under thin dispersion—""—Exile liaison proposes joint watch—""—fruit yield at half projection—"
Rejah hugged her knees. "They are nowhere near agreement."
"Shock stalls decisions," I said. "Like hatchlings freezing mid-trial. They wait until something forces them."
"And what forces clarity here?" she asked.
I had no answer.
The alarm shell vibrated through the bay. Rejah flinched, grabbing her coil. We ran to the viewport. Outside, motes spiraled downward like falling plankton, glowing faintly violet. A caretaker on the nursery walkway swung a tide broom at them. Wherever bristles struck, water hissed and sparks flashed. Her glove smoked.
I shoved the viewport open and propelled out, Rejah right behind me. The water felt warmer, heavy. The caretaker fell back, shaking her burned hand, and the motes kept falling. Quiet. Endless.
We angled mirrors, scattering beams. Some filaments recoiled, but others drifted through light as if it wasn't there.
Mirrors scatter concentrated motes, I realized, but thin drizzle passes straight through.
Rejah's voice trembled. "If mirrors fail, what bends light?"
I watched the glowing filaments curling across the spires and felt the pearl pulse faintly, as if asking me the same question.
If mirrors fail, maybe currents can bend light.
I dove, shaping water around me. Whatever answer waited, I would find it.