Kael's eyes snapped open in the darkness. The hum of the transformers was a constant, low drone, but it was the echo of that faint, frayed thread that still vibrated in his mind. His mother. The psychic scent was unmistakable—a mix of lavender soap and old books, a memory he thought he'd buried years ago.
"Elias," he whispered into the gloom, his voice hoarse.
His brother was awake in an instant, his form shifting in the cot next to his. "What is it?"
"I felt her. Mom. She's alive. And she's... she's terrified."
The rustle of Lyra stirring from her own cot followed. "Kael? What's wrong?"
He sat up, running a hand through his hair, the phantom sensation of his mother's fear clinging to him like cobwebs. "The lattice... I felt her in my sleep. It was like a distress signal. Faint, but real."
Elias was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with a pain Kael hadn't heard in years. "I tried to find her, Kael. After I was bound to the Oculus. I used its power to search every thread, every possibility. It showed me nothing. Either she was shielded... or she was gone." He paused. "For the Oculus to show nothing... that's almost impossible. Unless someone was hiding her."
A new, chilling understanding dawned on Kael. "The Architects. They hid her from the Oculus. But why? Why then? Why now?"
"Leverage," Lyra said softly, her practical mind cutting to the heart of the matter. She was sitting up now, her silhouette tense. "They've had her all along. They used your brother's obsession with the Oculus to control him, and now they're using your mother to control you. They're showing you they have another piece of the board."
The cold, calculating fury that Kael had been learning to channel surged within him. This wasn't just a game of temporal power anymore. It was a violation of his most fundamental memories, his family.
"We have to find her," Kael said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Kael, it's exactly what they want," Elias warned, his voice strained. "They're baiting you. That thread you felt? It could be a trap, meticulously laid. They know you're learning to read the lattice. They're feeding you a trail."
"Then we walk into the trap on our terms," Kael countered, his mind already working, the pieces clicking into place. "You said I have to learn to hunt in the lattice. So, I hunt. But not for Alistair. Not yet. For her. I'll trace that thread back to its source. If it's a trap, we'll know before we spring it."
The resolve in his voice was absolute. Lyra moved to sit beside him, her presence a solid, reassuring weight. "We do this together. But carefully. If they have your mom, we can't just charge in."
The next few hours were a masterclass in focused, desperate effort. While Lyra used a heavily encrypted connection to pull any public records she could find about their mother's disappearance—all of which led to dead ends, just as they always had—Elias began Kael's real training.
"Focus on the thread you felt," Elias instructed, sitting cross-legged on the floor opposite Kael. "Don't reach for it. That's what they expect. Just remember its resonance. Its emotional frequency. Fear has a specific vibration. Love has another. Find the unique signature of her."
Kael closed his eyes, blocking out the world. He let the memory of the thread fill his mind—the thin, desperate hope layered over a deep, abiding fear. It was a unique melody in the symphony of the city's chaotic vibrations. He held onto it, memorizing its feel.
"Now," Elias whispered, his voice a guide in the darkness behind Kael's eyelids. "Listen to the lattice around us. Not the big threads, the loud ones. Listen for the whispers. The echoes. See if you can hear that same melody, no matter how faint."
It was like trying to pick out a single voice in a roaring stadium. Kael sifted through the vibrations of the city above—the countless lives, the machinery, the flow of water and electricity. He felt the cold, predatory signatures of the Architect Sentinels patrolling near Aethelburg Tower. He felt the mundane, beautiful chaos of Lyra's neighborhood, including the quiet, sleeping thread of her little sister, safe for now.
And then, he heard it.
A ghost of a note. The same melody. It was incredibly faint, flickering in and out of existence, as if being transmitted through a damaged receiver. It wasn't coming from the city's center, or the wealthy districts. It was emanating from the industrial docks, from a sector long since abandoned and scheduled for Thorne's "renewal."
"It's there," Kael breathed, his eyes still closed, pointing roughly southeast. "The old shipyards. It's weak... jumbled. Like it's being blocked or scrambled."
Elias let out a sharp breath. "A damping field. They're keeping her hidden, but they're doing it imperfectly. Maybe because they want you to find a crack. It's a controlled leak."
"Then we exploit the crack," Kael said, opening his eyes. They shone with a new, sharp light. "We don't go in blind. We scout. We use the lattice."
A plan, dangerous and delicate, began to form. They would use Kael's growing ability to remotely sense the area, to map the threads around the location before ever setting foot there. They would look for the tell-tale signatures of Architects, for traps, for anything that felt out of place.
For the rest of the day, Kael practiced, stretching his awareness further than he ever had before. The strain was immense, giving him blinding headaches, but each time, he could hold the connection a little longer, see a little clearer. He was no longer just a passenger on the lattice; he was becoming a navigator.
As night fell, they prepared to move. They were exhausted, running on nerves and determination. Just as they were about to leave the safety of the maintenance room, Kael held up a hand.
"Wait."
He closed his eyes one last time, reaching out towards the docks. He found the faint, flickering thread of his mother. It was still there, a little beacon of pain and hope. And then, he felt something else. Something new.
A second thread, intertwined with the first. This one was different. It wasn't cold and precise like an Architect's. It was wild, chaotic, and burning with a furious, protective energy. It was a thread he didn't recognize, and it was standing guard.
Cliffhanger: Kael's eyes flew open. "She's not alone. There's someone else with her. Someone... powerful. And they're fighting back." The game had just changed again. The Architects were holding his mother, but they weren't the only players in that room. Who was the wild card, and were they an enemy, or an unexpected ally?