Night came quietly in the ruins.
Riven sat on a rusted catwalk that overlooked the dig site. Below him, the excavation drones moved like pale beetles, their lights glinting off the broken earth as they unearthed old metal and dead tech.
The scent of ash hung in the air.
He barely noticed it anymore.
Wind scraped across the platform, carrying whispers from the depths of the ravine. Not voices. Not words. Just vibration. Static caught in the folds of the world.
He didn't sleep. He hadn't since the ruin.
Something inside him didn't allow it.
… Traceform Drift Level: 6%
… Stability: Holding
… Synaptic Overlay: Initializing
He closed his eyes.
At first, there was nothing.
Then—an image.
A skyline.
But it wasn't real.
A city, floating upside down, suspended in pitch black. Towers inverted and stretched like strands of glass. Lights flickering like stars drawn in charcoal. Streets were veins. Buildings, bone.
And in the center, a single eye, burning gold, buried in the sky.
His breath caught.
Then the image shattered, and he was himself again.
Sitting on a cold catwalk.
Still alone.
Still haunted.
He stood slowly, adjusted his coat, and made his way down the scaffold to the quartering units. The layout hadn't changed — rows of prefab housing pods, dimly lit and half-abandoned. Only the desperate lived here.
Which made them his kind.
He opened the door to his unit. Metal scraped against metal. Inside, it was sparse — a bunk, a chair, a rusted terminal. A cracked mirror hung beside the door.
He caught his reflection.
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Just for a second.
A pulse of static.
He looked closer.
His features hadn't changed. But the way his eyes held the light—no, not light. Color. They had always been dark, but now, a sheen like obsidian flickered behind the iris, too deep, too calm.
As if someone was watching him from behind his face.
He turned away.
… [Scene Break]
By morning, the Corestorm had passed.
Most of the scav crews were already mobilizing. Towering cargo haulers crawled across the excavation basin, moving soil, broken walls, and the occasional half-buried relic. Drones buzzed overhead.
The operation was expanding.
They'd found something.
Riven knew what that meant. More checkpoints. More scanners. More chances for someone to notice he wasn't… normal anymore.
He needed to move carefully.
"Kael."
The voice came from behind.
He turned to see Irel approaching, her coat trailing behind her in the wind. Her visor was up today, and her eyes were sharp.
"There's a new contract. Off the record."
Riven said nothing.
She stopped beside him, lowering her voice. "Deep core. Tier-Zero site. Full blackout protocols. Private sponsor."
He studied her.
"No risk bonus?"
"None. But high clearance access. And they're asking for volunteers."
"Why me?"
She shrugged. "They think you've seen things."
He didn't respond.
She leaned in closer. "And I think you have, too."
… [Scene Break]
They dropped into the sinkhole at dusk.
The new dig site wasn't just deep. It was buried under an entire collapsed stratum of the city. Twisted roads and shattered high-rises hung above the pit like broken teeth, lit only by the flicker of auxiliary lamps and plasma torches.
The sponsor's crew was already there.
Six figures. Unmarked suits. Faces hidden. Their gear was pristine — too clean for scavengers. Corporate? Military? Something else?
Riven kept his expression neutral.
One of them stepped forward, a tall woman with a silver data-coil trailing behind her head. Her voice was synthesized, faintly distorted.
"Welcome to Tier-Zero."
Riven didn't speak.
She gestured behind her, toward a sealed gate. "We're looking for something. We have reason to believe this site houses a Null-Origin shard."
Riven's heart slowed.
Not skipped. Slowed.
His muscles tensed, but he didn't move.
"Null-Origin fragments are unstable," the woman continued. "You are here to confirm viability and retrieve preliminary scan data. Do not engage. Do not touch. Do not activate."
He nodded once.
They handed him a pulse beacon and a scanner rig. He strapped them on without a word, stepped past them, and entered the gate.
… [Scene Break]
The chamber was silent.
Black walls. Carved not by tools, but by time itself. There were no lights inside — only the faint bioluminescence of drifting spores and the pulse of the scanner in his palm.
He stepped carefully.
Then the scanner went dead.
He stopped.
A hum passed through the floor.
Then a flicker.
A shape stood in the dark.
Not a person.
Not a thing.
A reflection.
Of him.
It stepped forward, mirroring his movements.
He raised his hand.
It did the same.
Then it dissolved, scattering like mist.
The pressure behind his eyes returned.
And this time, the voice came.
Not a whisper.
A word.
"…Null."
Riven staggered.
The chamber spun.
And in the instant before he hit the floor—
Everything turned to static.