Rourke dreamed of falling.
Not downward—
inward.
As if the universe had turned inside out and was dragging him toward its hollow center. He woke with a gasp, hands clawing at empty air, heart hammering violently.
Seren was already there.
"Hey—hey—look at me.
You're awake."
Her voice was steady, but her hands shook as she held his shoulders.
Rourke swallowed hard.
"How long?"
She didn't answer right away.
"That's not a good sign, is it?"
She exhaled.
"Six minutes."
The Memory Core hovered nearby, dimmer than ever.
"Second attempt authorization delayed due to structural trauma."
Rourke blinked.
"Trauma?"
The guide answered softly.
"Your nervous system briefly lost gravitational reference.
Your body forgot which way was real."
Seren muttered,
"Add that to the list of nightmares."
The Setup
They stood at the edge of a narrow fragment of the broken realm—
a place where space already felt thin and unstable.
The Forge remained dark.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was experimentation.
The Memory Core spoke carefully.
"Application requires expansion beyond theoretical limits.
You must remove gravity… deliberately."
Seren crossed her arms.
"And this time, the void doesn't stay grain-sized."
"Correct."
Rourke closed his eyes.
"How big?"
The relic hesitated.
"…No larger than your palm."
Seren cursed under her breath.
"That's not comforting."
Rourke inhaled slowly.
"Let's do it."
The Second Attempt
He focused inward—
not on bending gravity,
not on pushing it aside—
But on denying it.
The sensation was wrong.
Like trying to think a thought that refused to exist.
A hollow pressure formed in front of him, the size of his palm.
Nothingness.
The air screamed again.
Seren shouted, "Anchor! Anchor now!"
Rourke held on.
The void stabilized—
briefly.
Then it pulsed.
Expanded.
The fractured ground beneath them warped, curling inward like wet paper.
The Memory Core flared in alarm.
"Expansion detected—
containment threshold breached!"
Rourke screamed as his crown erupted with blinding light.
Pain ripped through his skull.
Seren grabbed his arm—
And was thrown backward by a shockwave of absence.
She hit the ground hard, gasping.
"Rourke!"
The void expanded again.
The realm began collapsing toward it.
When Control Breaks
Rourke fell to his knees, blood running from his nose.
Gravity Sight showed him horror—
threads snapping,
structures unraveling,
space tearing itself apart.
He couldn't pull gravity back.
There was nothing to grab.
The Memory Core shouted:
"Abort!
Sever the null field!"
"I CAN'T!" Rourke screamed.
The void ignored him.
It wanted to grow.
Seren staggered to her feet, fighting the pull toward nothingness.
She screamed his name again—
And the sound warped, stretching, thinning.
Rourke felt something inside him snap.
Not the crown.
Something deeper.
Fear.
Raw, animal fear.
The Collapse potential surged.
Darkness crept into the edges of his vision.
The void pulsed violently.
The fractured sky began folding inward.
The guide screamed:
"This is how the Solarii died!"
The Near Collapse
Rourke's breathing turned erratic.
His thoughts spiraled.
Let it end.
Let it all collapse.
The void responded—
thrumming eagerly.
Seren crawled toward him, fingers digging into the ground.
"Rourke—listen to me!
You're still here!
I need you HERE!"
He barely heard her.
The Heart inside his chest burned.
Then—
Seren screamed something different.
"STOP!"
Not his name.
Not a plea.
A command.
Rourke's eyes snapped open.
She was on her feet, standing against the pull, eyes blazing with fury and terror.
"You do NOT get to decide how this ends," she shouted.
"Not you.
Not the Engine.
NOT THIS THING!"
Her voice cut through the void.
Unpredictable.
Human.
Defiant.
The void shuddered.
The Collapse Averted
Rourke latched onto her voice—
not emotionally,
but deliberately.
He wrapped the absence around her will.
Forced containment.
The void screamed—
then imploded into itself.
Silence slammed down.
The fractured realm settled, cracked but intact.
Rourke collapsed forward, unconscious.
Seren reached him just as he hit the ground.
She caught him.
Held him.
And screamed for help.
Aftermath
Rourke woke hours later.
Seren was still there.
Exhausted.
Bruised.
Alive.
"You scared me," she whispered.
He swallowed hard.
"I lost it."
She shook her head.
"You found it.
You just… almost destroyed reality first."
The Memory Core hovered nearby, dim and shaken.
"This confirms Solarii projections."
Rourke forced himself upright slowly.
"What projections?"
The relic answered gravely:
"Null Gravity cannot be controlled alone."
Seren frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The Memory Core's light flickered.
"It requires two anchors."
Rourke and Seren exchanged a look.
Rourke whispered:
"…Two?"
The relic pulsed.
"Yes.
And one of them cannot be you."
The fractured sky darkened again.
And far away,
Hunter Prime adjusted his strategy.