The light exploded, then collapsed toward the center as if sucked in by an invisible point. The corridor sealed shut, the runes flew away like leaves in a storm, and the Athenaeum held its breath.
Marikka was on her knees.
The floor vibrated at the same rhythm that pulsed in her chest.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Not a heartbeat.
A command.
"Marikka!" Aurelian grabbed her shoulders. His fingers were trembling—a minimal, almost imperceptible tremor that he desperately tried to hide. "Look at me. Can you speak?"
Cedric was against the wall, paralyzed, hands covering his face. "It's... it's happening again. The building... is breathing. I can feel it. By the forgotten gods, I feel it."
Before Marikka could answer, a new impulse crossed the hall.
Not a wave.
A call.
A vibration perfectly tuned to hers.
It was him.
The Fragment.
And yet... he wasn't alone.
Marikka collapsed forward, clutching her chest. The internal vibration responded like an echo, and a wave of heat enveloped her arms, followed by a sudden chill down her spine.
"There's something... here," she whispered. "It's like it's... near, but impossible to see."
The corridor narrowed, then widened again, uncertain about which form to take.
Cedric pointed a trembling finger toward the ceiling. "Aurelian? I'm officially informing you that I'm going crazy: the lights are changing color to the rhythm of... of... Marikka."
And he was right.
The lights turned on and off with her chest.
Aurelian slowly inhaled, his gaze fixed on Marikka. "The internal vibration is influencing the Hall. We must move. Now."
Marikka clung to the wall to stand up. The surface was warm, almost pulsating.
And as she touched it, she perceived another rhythm emerging beneath hers.
Thump—
Thump—
Two slow, deep beats.
"Someone is vibrating with me," she said quietly. "But it's not the Fragment."
Cedric paled. "Another one? Why do we have to have another one? Who... who is it?"
Marikka shook her head. "I don't know. But... when I sense it, I smell a strange scent. Like..."
She hesitated, surprised by the sensation.
"...like wet ash. And a metallic noise. A clinking sound."
Aurelian stiffened as if those words had hit him physically. "Marikka, don't—"
The corridor exploded in a structural change.
The walls folded forward like columns of pressed paper, then opened like an accordion.
The Athenaeum was intervening.
Aurelian moved aside, but the floor beneath his feet gave way by two centimeters. For a moment, he stumbled. Cedric instinctively grabbed him.
Marikka had never seen Aurelian lose his balance.
Not once.
"Are you okay?" she asked, still trembling.
He straightened up too quickly. "Let's move."
Marikka didn't insist: it wasn't the time.
As they advanced, the vibration in the hall changed again.
The runes on the walls began to move autonomously.
A sequence detached from the wall, floating in the air like luminous sand.
Then it took shape.
A figure.
Humanoid.
Made of light and void, with lines of text flowing through its chest and arms.
A shadow of resonance.
Cedric stifled a cry. "It's a ghost! Tell me it's not a ghost!"
"It's not a real entity," Aurelian said, approaching with extreme caution. "It's a forecast by the Athenaeum. It shows what might enter the sector."
The figure leaned toward Marikka.
It had no eyes, yet it was watching her.
Her heart-vibration accelerated.
The book at her waist trembled.
Marikka felt a voice explode in her mind—no, not a voice:
A pure vibration.
THE KEY IS INCOMPATIBLE.
Cedric covered his face. "What does that mean?! That he can't use her? That he doesn't want her? That— Aurelian, please explain, I'm having a nervous breakdown!"
The man was motionless, pale. "It means the Fragment cannot rewrite her. At least, not easily."
Marikka swallowed. "Then why is he looking for me?"
The figure trembled.
The runes that composed it broke into fractured lines.
Then it dissolved.
Silence.
A silence that was not empty, but waiting.
The vibration arrived afterwards—slow, deep, like a hammer striking a wet anvil.
And with it, a light scent of wet ash.
The second presence.
TO REWRITE
YOU MUST FIRST
BREAK.
The floor opened beneath Marikka.
Cedric screamed.
Aurelian tried to grab her—and he did.
Their hands gripped each other, strong, desperate.
"I won't let you go!" he shouted.
Marikka's book vibrated so violently that it seemed about to explode.
A low humming filled the air, mixing with the frantic beat in her chest.
Thump. Thump.
Thump—thump.
Two rhythms.
Two presences.
Aurelian's grip failed.
Marikka fell, swallowed by the living darkness of the Athenaeum.
And she did not fall alone.
The vibrations accompanied her.
One familiar.
The other unknown.
Both inevitable.