Dawn arrived quiet and thin, like the world itself was still deciding whether to wake. The Rift Spire loomed in the distance—an impossible column of black glass tearing the clouds apart, veins of blue lightning crawling up its sides. Every few seconds it pulsed, and the air vibrated like the hum of a distant heartbeat.
The group had stopped at the ridge overlooking it. They'd been walking for hours, no one saying much. The only sounds were boots scraping on gravel and the faint rustle of Peter's shadows as they moved with him like restless smoke.
Aurora was the first to break the silence. "So that's it," she said, eyes narrowing against the light. "The Architect's next playground."
"More like his fortress," Jason muttered. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the blue cracks running down its blade faintly glowing. "He's been using that thing to siphon energy from the Fragments. We go there, we walk into his domain."
Alex stood a few steps ahead, arms crossed. The Crimson Core pulsed through the thin fabric of his shirt. "Then we destroy it."
Jason scoffed. "Easy for you to say, Red. You've got a monster's heart beating in your chest."
Lyra glanced between them, tension sparking. "Jason, don't—"
But Jason wasn't done. "Tell me, Alex. How long until that thing decides it's done playing hero? You think we didn't see you lose control back there?"
Alex turned slowly, his expression tightening. "You talk like you know what it's like. But all you've done is hide."
Jason took a step closer. "I've fought for years without losing myself. That's the difference between strength and corruption."
Peter's shadows coiled at his feet, reacting to the sharpness in the air. "Both of you need to shut it before one of you makes me step in."
Aurora gave a small laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, this is going great. Group therapy through yelling."
Amanda placed a hand on Jason's arm. "He's not the enemy."
Jason didn't move. "He might be."
Alex's eyes flickered crimson. The Core inside him throbbed, sensing hostility. "You want to test that theory?"
Lyra stepped between them. "Stop it—both of you. We're supposed to be on the same side!"
Jason's sword left its sheath halfway. Alex's crimson aura flared in answer. The ground trembled between them, dust rising, the Spire in the distance pulsing faster—as if it could taste their anger.
"Don't," Amanda whispered. "Please."
But the sound of power surging drowned her voice. Jason swung first—a quick flash of blue light. Alex caught it with his bare hand, crimson energy cracking through the air. For an instant, the world went silent except for the hiss of burning ozone.
Then came the explosion.
Red and blue light collided, bursting outward like shattering glass. Lyra dove aside, Aurora threw up a wall of radiant light, Peter's shadows flared to shield the rest—but Amanda was too close. She lunged between them, reaching out as if she could stop both powers by sheer will.
The blast struck her shoulder. The impact knocked her back, spinning her to the ground.
Silence.
Jason froze, sword still raised. Alex stood rigid, the Core dimming to a flicker. Smoke drifted from Amanda's shoulder; her breathing came shallow, fast.
"Amanda—" Jason's voice cracked as he fell to his knees beside her. "No, no, no…"
Lyra rushed forward, tearing a strip of cloth from her sleeve. "She's losing blood—"
"Move," Aurora said quietly. Her tone left no room for argument.
She knelt beside Amanda, hands trembling but steady in intent. Light began to gather at her fingertips—soft, golden, pure. It wasn't the blinding radiance of her battle magic; it was something gentler, older. The glow seeped into Amanda's wound, threading through torn flesh like silk through fabric.
Jason watched, helpless. "Will it work?"
Aurora didn't look up. "If she still wants to stay, yes."
The light spread across Amanda's body, outlining her in a halo so bright the rest had to look away. For a moment, everything was still—no sound but the faint hum of Aurora's power and the crackle of divine energy repairing what rage had broken.
Then the glow faded. The wound was gone. Only a faint mark remained, like the memory of pain.
Aurora leaned back, exhausted, sweat glinting on her brow. "She'll live."
Jason pressed his forehead to Amanda's hand. His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Alex stood apart, guilt pulling his shoulders down. The Core inside him was silent now—ashamed, almost. He looked at the scar on Amanda's shoulder and saw his failure carved into it.
Lyra walked up to him, eyes cold. "You let it control you again."
He didn't argue. "I know."
Peter spoke from the shadows. "Control isn't the problem," he said softly. "It's pride." His eyes flicked to Jason. "Both of you wear too much of it."
Jason didn't respond. He just lifted Amanda carefully, her head resting against his shoulder.
Aurora stood, light still faintly glowing around her hands. "If anyone's planning another fight, I'm out of magic for the day. So please—try not to kill each other before lunch."
No one laughed.
They set up camp at the ridge, the Spire watching them from the distance like a silent witness. Jason stayed beside Amanda, refusing to sleep. Alex kept his distance, sitting near the edge of the cliff where the wind tore at his hair. The world below flickered with blue veins of energy, the Spire's pulse echoing through the stones beneath them.
Lyra joined him after a while. "You should rest."
"I don't deserve to," he said quietly.
She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. "You don't get to decide that. None of us do."
Behind them, Aurora's light dimmed completely as she fell asleep beside Peter's shadows—light and dark at uneasy peace.
The night stretched long and heavy. When the wind shifted, Alex thought he could hear the Rift Spire whispering—something low, rhythmic, and almost human.
It sounded like a heartbeat.
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Tagline:
> The Rift Spire called to all of them—through guilt, through pride, through every wound they refused to heal.