No one spoke at first. The sheer size of the spire silenced them more than awe ever could. It rose from the ground like a monument carved by the planet itself, its fractured surface alive with pulsing veins of light. Every glow throbbed in rhythm with their own heartbeats, syncing, binding.
Jonas broke the silence, his voice hoarse. "I feel like if we touch that thing, we stop being us."
Mara's eyes narrowed at the kneeling remnant. "And maybe that's the point."
Liora stepped forward, slowly, reverently, as though approaching a shrine. Her hand trembled slightly as she raised it toward the glowing surface, only to stop just short. Her lips parted. "It… knows us."
Eris's gaze sharpened. "Knows us how?"
She turned to him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder. "Like it remembers. Like it's been waiting."
Before anyone could answer, the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The forest groaned. From the basin's edges, shards of crystal began to push upward, forming figures. More remnants.
Mara cursed and leveled her rifle. "Here we go again—"
But these were different. They did not advance. They did not attack. They stood in silent ranks, their crystalline bodies humming faintly as if in chorus with the spire. Guardians, not soldiers.
Eris stepped down into the basin, ignoring Mara's sharp hiss of protest. The pulsing glow intensified with every step he took, until the spire's light reflected in his eyes. He reached the surface and laid his palm against it.
The world went still.
A shockwave rippled through the basin, not of force but of silence. The whispers that had filled the forest from the moment they arrived—gone. Even the forest's unnatural breath paused. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the thrum of the spire under Eris's hand.
Then, a voice. Not spoken aloud, not heard in the air—but pressed directly into his mind.
You have come at last.
Eris staggered back, clutching his chest. The crystal pulsed once, like an eye opening.
And the guardians stirred.