Rogue Anomalies
The shard beneath them quivered, a thin slice of fractured city floating in the infinite void. Kael's muscles ached, his exosuit thrusters nearly depleted, but there was no time to rest. Every movement was calculated; every breath could be their last. The Shard's words echoed in his mind: "Survive, or your worlds will unravel."
Lyra crouched beside him, her hands trembling slightly as residual magic sparked around her. "That name," she whispered, voice low, "The Shard… it's more than a person. I've heard whispers, legends across my world. Nothing good comes from it."
Riven scanned the surrounding void with sharp, predatory eyes. "Legends don't kill you. Reality does." He smirked, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. He, too, felt the oppressive weight of the void, the way it seemed alive and aware.
Kael's HUD flickered. Readings of phantoms approaching from multiple angles blinked red. They were adapting faster now, no longer merely hunting—they were predicting the avatars' moves. And worse, something else lurked in the distance: shadows of fragments colliding, forming shapes Kael couldn't recognize. Structures folded and refolded, and within them, glimpses of worlds he didn't know existed. Cities with towers taller than mountains, forests where the trees glimmered like molten crystal, rivers of fire cutting through ice.
"We need a plan," Kael said. "We can't keep hopping shards forever. Eventually, this reality will consume us."
Riven glanced toward a particularly unstable fragment. "There's a bridge over there. It looks stable enough to cross… barely. If we take it, we might reach a fragment with solid ground."
Lyra shook her head. "Barely stable isn't safe. I can hold it temporarily, but it won't last long under pressure. And once we cross, the phantoms—The Shard's… minions—will know exactly where we are."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we do it fast. I don't see any other choice."
They moved cautiously. Lyra's magic flared to stabilize the fragile bridge, every movement precise, her hands weaving sigils faster than Kael had ever seen. Riven ran ahead, scanning the void for threats, and Kael followed, keeping a steady eye on the flickering phantoms.
Midway across, a shadow passed beneath the bridge—a long, serpentine form, part organic, part mechanical, gliding through the void like a hunter through water. Kael fired, plasma rounds tearing through the air, but the creature dodged with impossible speed. It hissed, a distorted sound that penetrated Kael's skull as much as his ears.
"Shit," Riven muttered. "They're getting faster."
Lyra's hands glowed brighter, forming a barrier beneath the bridge that warped the creature's trajectory. Sparks flew as the void itself seemed to resist, twisting the magic, testing her limits.
Kael felt his stomach twist. This was more than a battle—it was a war with reality itself. Every step, every movement, carried the risk of falling into the void or being shredded by creatures beyond comprehension.
Halfway across, Lyra stumbled. Kael lunged, catching her by the arm. "Are you okay?" he shouted.
Her eyes were wide, a faint pulse of pain flashing across her face. "I… I can manage. Just… keep moving."
Kael nodded and pulled her forward. They made it to the far side just as the bridge snapped behind them, collapsing into the abyss. The void seemed to roar in triumph, swallowing the remnants of the unstable shard.
Kael exhaled heavily. "Too close."
Riven smirked faintly. "You're telling me."
But the relief was short-lived. As they gathered themselves, Kael noticed movement at the edge of the fragment—something shifting unnaturally. His HUD blinked red: another phantom. Larger than before, its limbs bending at impossible angles, glowing faintly with energy from multiple worlds.
Lyra's magic flared instinctively. "We have to fight. There's no other choice."
The phantom lunged, and Kael fired, thrusters propelling him to the side. Lyra's energy hit it squarely, but it only staggered. Riven, surprisingly agile, landed on a nearby shard and fired, hitting its core. Sparks exploded, and for a brief moment, it seemed they had succeeded.
Then it split.
Not one phantom, but two. Then four. The void itself seemed to replicate the creatures, turning every attack into a new threat. Kael realized with a cold certainty: these weren't ordinary creatures. They were fragments—extensions of The Shard's will. And they were learning.
Lyra's face paled. "We… we can't keep up!"
Kael gritted his teeth. "Then we force the fight. We have to keep moving toward stable ground. There's… there has to be a fragment large enough to hold us for more than a few minutes."
Riven's eyes glinted. "I know a place. But getting there… it's risky. Very risky. And there's someone waiting."
Kael frowned. "Who?"
Riven hesitated, then said, "A friend. Or maybe an enemy. Hard to tell in this chaos. They'll decide if we live or die."
Kael narrowed his eyes. He didn't like uncertainty, especially not now. "We don't have friends in this void. Only survival."
They leapt across the void again, fragments spinning and shifting unpredictably beneath their feet. Kael's thrusters flared as gravity warped, making each jump a gamble. The creatures followed relentlessly, phasing in and out of the fragments, attacking with calculated precision.
Finally, they reached a massive shard—a skyscraper-sized fragment, seemingly untouched by the chaos around it. Trees grew along its jagged edges, and small streams of water trickled from cracks in the stone. Kael barely believed it was real.
Riven landed first, scanning the perimeter. "This is it. Safe… for now."
Lyra collapsed to her knees, exhausted. "Safe… temporarily. But The Shard will find us."
Kael frowned, glancing at the void. "We need to rest, regroup, and figure out the next move. I don't care if it's temporary. We survive today, we plan tomorrow."
They set up a temporary perimeter on the shard, but Kael's instincts screamed that rest would be brief. The void pulsed like a living thing, and shadows flickered along the edges.
Hours passed. Kael kept watch, eyes scanning every ripple in the fractured reality. Riven sat silently, sharpening makeshift blades, while Lyra tried to recover, channeling magic to stabilize the fragment.
Then Kael noticed something subtle—a movement within the trees on the shard. Not phantoms, not creatures like before, but someone… human. Watching.
Before he could react, a sharp voice rang out. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Kael spun. A woman stepped out from the shadows, hooded cloak concealing most of her face, but her eyes glinted with intelligence and danger. She held a staff, tipped with a glowing crystal, humming faintly with energy.
"Who are you?" Kael demanded, raising his rifle.
The woman smiled faintly. "Call me Eris. And you've all stumbled right into a test… one you may not survive."
Lyra's energy flared instinctively. "Another one? How many are there? Who sent you?"
Eris shook her head slowly. "No one sent me. I am… part of this. Part of the Convergence. And part of The Shard's plan."
Kael's stomach twisted. "You're working with him?"
Eris's smile faded. "Working? No. Observing? Yes. And deciding… who deserves to live."
Riven scoffed. "Perfect. Just what we needed—another self-proclaimed judge of fate."
Eris's eyes narrowed. "I'm no one's judge. But if you want to survive, you'll follow my guidance. For now."
Kael clenched his fists. "I don't follow threats. I follow results. If you help us, fine. If not…"
Eris's smile returned, faint and enigmatic. "Time will tell. But know this: The Shard is not what you think. And your trust… is fragile. One mistake, one betrayal, and you will die."
Kael's heart pounded. The collision of worlds, the phantoms, the void… and now Eris, a mysterious figure whose motives were unclear. Survival was becoming a complex game, where every choice could be fatal.
Lyra's voice broke his thoughts. "We can't stay here. Not even with her. The Shard is coming."
Kael nodded. "Then we move. Together… for now."
Riven smirked. "Together… until the next betrayal."
The void pulsed around them, alive, hungry, waiting. And somewhere, far beyond the shards and the fractured reality, The Shard watched, patient and calculating.
Kael clenched his fists, feeling the weight of responsibility and fear pressing down on him. The collision had only just begun—and already, survival demanded more than skill. It demanded trust, courage, and a willingness to face betrayal at every turn.
And in this world, Kael knew, betrayal was inevitable.