The Heist That Sparked a War
Word had been spreading for months about the Heart of Zyanthos. Crafted during the Dawnforge Era, when humanity wielded not blood and steel but quantum alchemy, it was said to contain a fraction of the legendary Architect’s dreams—visions from the civilization before the Collapse. Whispers claimed the Heart could rewrite laws of reality or tear through space-time itself. Most dismissed these tales as myth. Karo wasn’t most people.
When the Guild of Radiant Outlaws contacted him, describing an unparalleled payday, he’d laughed. "Steal a god stone from the most secure Archive on this cursed moon, surrounded by death-trap surveillance arrays…and you think I’m interested because…why?" But as the credits were promised and stakes raised, something deeper pulled him in. It wasn’t greed, not entirely. It was the possibility of knowing the truth. The myths, the Architect, the whispers of forgotten eras—things Karo had chased his entire life. And now, as the prize glittered atop the crystal dais in his leather satchel, truth thudded just as heavily in sync with his racing footsteps.
There was no time for pride. The flaming glass tide called out behind him as a Sentinel growled in harmonic frequencies. The air around him vibrated, as if the world itself disapproved of his theft. The ground ahead began to crack, shards of marble ascending eerily into the air, forming surreal bridges in anti-gravitational rhythm. This was bad. Really bad.
The Neon Abyss
The land ahead opened into the infamous Neon Abyss, the split in Vael Nir's crystalline crust that descended endlessly into shifting oceans of bioluminescent gases. Karo could see no path forward except plunging into a desperate leap toward one of the floating shards. He skidded to the edge, readjusting his weight, arms pinwheeling. The glass tides behind continued to howl. "Well, Talek, you always wanted to die memorable."
He launched himself forward just as a bolt of light ground past his face, singing the air and burning away part of his coat’s edge. His hands caught the first shard—slick, unstable—but he made it work. Barely.
He scrambled aboard, staring into the gaseous abyss churning below. The Sentinels weren’t far now. The one holding the bolt cannon growled louder than ever, harmonic pulses vibrating across the immediate air. Was this really how his story ended?
In a quiet moment amidst the chaos, Karo unclipped the satchel from his shoulder and stared down at it. Would it be worth it, risking everything, for something even he couldn’t fully understand? He thought of the legends, the dream-like stories told over fires in hidden hideouts, and the longing pang—a desire so raw and primal it had driven humanity itself beyond the stars when their Earth expired. The thought steeled him.
A Dangerous Proposal
He slung the satchel tightly to his back and placed one boot on the shard’s edge. When the first Sentinel reached him, crystalline spear raised, Karo grinned at its hollow eyes. “I could shatter you," he said, his voice cocky but defiant. The glass monster paused but kept moving forward, its sharp, angular frame deadly and majestic.
"Or…” Karo continued slowly, activating his comm-link. “...we could make a deal."
A holographic bloom of light emerged from his wrist as his words reverberated into the Sentinel’s higher frequencies. Karo prayed someone—anything—understood the signals he was broadcasting. Whether there was truth to the myths or just myth in the truth, this would be his only shot at survival. As the harpoon came dangerously close to his chest, the light from his communicator flickered. A soft ping confirmed the response.
They were coming for him. But who they were and whether it involved rescue…or something far worse…remained unknown.
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