Thalyn jolted upright as the throne released her. The memories—someone else’s—faded like smoke, leaving an ache behind her eyes. Routine now, but that didn’t make it any easier. She stood, legs trembling, the familiar sting in her cybernetic joints reminded her that, despite everything, she was still Thalyn Ka’el. With a deep breath, she steadied herself, casting a uick
glance around the chamber.
Korr muttered over a table, fingers dancing over relics like a man tracing ghosts. Dr. Voss sat cross-legged atop a pillar, eyes closed, seeking calm in the quiet that never lasted long enough. The chamber smelled of stone dust and something faintly metallic.
Without a word, Thalyn hurried to the makeshift restroom, splashing cold water on her face. The chill snapped her back to the present. But that memory gnawed at her—thumping sound, the struggle. It felt too real, too urgent.
When she returned, Elara’s violet eyes followed her, curious, concerned. The commander had just returned, his heavy boots echoing off the chamber walls as he placed a metal box on a nearby shelf. The faint scent of freshly drilled rock clung to him.
Thalyn shared her experience with the group. She spoke of Jaraek and Reya, survivors clinging to what’s left, and how going by the name Echo, she had promised to help them.
“Echo, huh?” Jaxon grunted. “Guess that fits. But don’t get all heroic on an empty stomach.” He tossed her a ration pack before sitting heavily, his gaze fixed on the mineral detector still clutched in his hand.
They spread out their sleeping bags, the ancient walls offering momentary refuge from the poisoned world beyond. Jaxon took first watch, his gaze fixed on the chamber’s entrance, ever the sentinel against the dark.
Thalyn drifted into sleep, but her rest was anything but peaceful. Arvie’s voice echoed in her mind, playful as ever, teasing her about the memories she’d experienced. “You know, Thalyn, you’ve got a diary of your own in that head of yours. Care to relive some of those memories? I dare you.”
Thalyn frowned in her sleep. “A diary? What do you mean?”
“It’s an automated diary, darling. Very rare, and I’d bet you’re the only one on this entire moon with it. Just… don’t try to remember the past. Relive it, like you did with my master’s memories. You know how it feels, by now. Start simple, like… how you ended up here.”
The suggestion lingered, tempting, yet unnerving. Could she really walk back into her own past? The concept was alien, yet the throne made it plausible.
She woke, eyes fluttering open to a dim chamber half-lit by sky light. Jaxon’s steady breathing told her he was still on guard, but Elara’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“I had a dream… of sorts,” Thalyn whispered, sitting up carefully. “Arvie said I’ve got a black box, like the one in the throne. An automated diary.”
Elara leaned forward, eyes glinting in the half-light. “A diary… inside you?”
Thalyn nodded. “Arvie dared me to use it. To relive my memories.”
Elara’s expression was a strange mix. “You must try it, Thalyn. This could be—”
Korr cut in. “A discovery. If you can relive the past with the same clarity…”
Thalyn’s eyes met Jaxon’s, and he gave her a single, firm nod. “Do it, Ka’el. We’ve got your back.”
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, searching not for a memory, but for that familiar pull. The past wasn’t something to recall. It was something she could step into, just like before.
At first, there was nothing. Just the usual tangle of her own thoughts, and then—something. A tremor deep inside her, like a thread pulled loose. She leaned into it, let it drag her down. The chamber around her vanished, the air thickening, everything growing strange and distant, the veil parting.
And then, she was outside the Breather chamber. Nether sprawled ahead, its toxic air clinging like guilt, the domed metropolis behind her. The jungle breathed, twisted roots reaching out as if to claim her. The sky churned, a sickly bruise above the canopy.
Without a backward glance, she stepped into the wild. Every nerve fired, instinct driving her forward. The dark wasn’t just waiting—it was watching, hungry, and the poison-laced wind whispered a cruel reminder: survival never had the courtesy to be optional.
The jungle came at them in waves. Every rustle of the leaves was a threat, every shadow a lurking predator. She felt the acidic sap eat into her suit, smelled the singe of burning fabric, heard the growl of something unseen.
A beast tore out of the brush—six legs, too many teeth, venom spattering the ground in slow, sizzling drops. Her gun barked, the recoil rattling through her cybernetic limbs, but the beast shrugged it off.
Jaxon shouted something about staying back, which she ignored, but the next second his cybernetic arm flashed, faster than a blink, and the creature hit the dirt with a wet thud. Efficient as always.
And then, of course, the sky turned black with wings. Because why not? Talons slashed the air, filling it with the static of shrieks. Nira’s rifle was spitting fire, Elara shouting something drowned out by the madness.
The jungle didn’t relent. It pressed them, forced them to move faster, harder. The ground was treacherous, every step a potential fall into the abyss, hands grabbing at vines that burned and tore. Thalyn’s legs ached, the cybernetics grinding under strain.
The gorge yawned before them, she jumped across the gorge, the terror in Korr’s eyes as he slipped. She reached, unsure if she could hold him. Jaxon’s arm caught him, just as the earth crumbled beneath them. The world fell away, and for a moment, everything was weightless, timeless. Then solid ground, the relief brief as the jungle closed in again.
Shadowhounds darted through the undergrowth, their eyes cold embers. Thalyn moved with a fluidity born of desperation, her weapon an extension of her body, firing in controlled bursts.
And then the ruins, a place where the predators fell back. The heavy silence, the shift in the air, charged. The jungle noise replaced by a dread that crawled under her skin. Ancient carvings whispered of forgotten things, curses buried deep.
From the shadows, the Guardian emerged—a presence of cold, creeping dread. “You do not belong here,” it rasped, the voice low and guttural, a shiver tracing the length of her spine, as the chamber darkened. Thalyn’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath quick and shallow.
Jaxon, ever the optimist, lobbed a grenade. The explosion lit up the ruins, dust and stone flying. The Guardian didn’t flinch, its form rippling like smoke, unimpressed.
“Watch out!” Nira’s scream cut through the chaos as the ceiling caved in, sending shards of rock clattering to the floor. Somewhere deep below, something stirred. Probably ancient, probably angry.
Jaxon yanked Thalyn back just as another chunk of the ceiling gave way, crashing down with the sound of breaking bones. Nira stood frozen, her eyes wide with terror as the floor beneath her split open. Thalyn wanted to reach her, but the ground trembled, the walls cracked, and the world began to fall apart.
They ran—Jaxon dragging her through the debris, the others struggling to keep up. They stumbled over debris, hands grasping blindly, pulling each other up, running again, hearts hammering against ribs. The Guardian’s menace loomed, a weight at their backs, driving them forward into the narrow passage that led to the chamber where they now stood.
They lost Nira there, in the chaos, a memory Thalyn did not want to revisit.
When she snapped back, the amazement on her face was unmistakable. The others, equally excited, leaned in. Even Korr stopped fidgeting with relics, his eyes gleaming with interest.
“Unreal,” Elara whispered. “You actually relived it.”
Korr nodded, eyes gleaming with rare intensity. “This could be the key to understanding… so many things.”
Jaxon, all business, crossed his arms. “Well, now we know it works. Let’s see if the throne’s ready for another go.” The others exchanged glances, a silent agreement settling between them.
Thalyn turned to the throne. It loomed, cold metal and old promises. She sat, fingers tracing the crown’s edge. With a deep breath, she set it on her head. As the shapes dissolved into shadow, she felt the familiar pull of the throne.440Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5QNskxQJau
