The journey back through the unmade city was a blur of crimson shadows and distorted reality. Kaelen supported Roland, the former guard's breathing labored from his broken ribs, while navigating the shifting pathways that seemed to rearrange themselves with each step. The consumption of Mercer had changed something fundamental within Kaelen—his perception of the entropic energies was sharper, more intuitive, and he found himself instinctively sensing stable routes through the chaos.
More disturbing were the fragments of Mercer's memories that surfaced in his consciousness like debris from a shipwreck. Flashes of the captain's final mission to the Tower, his transformation, and his subsequent service as a hunter of other Anomalies. But most troubling were the memories of Thorne—glimpses of the professor before the unmaking, conducting experiments in a hidden laboratory beneath the university, opening doorways to... somewhere else.
"We need to rest," Roland gasped as they navigated a street where gravity fluctuated wildly, debris floating upward before crashing down again in unpredictable patterns. "My ribs... can't breathe properly."
Kaelen scanned their surroundings, his enhanced senses detecting a pocket of relative stability—a small café whose structure had been partially preserved in the unmaking. "There," he said, guiding Roland toward the building. "It should be safe, at least temporarily."
They made their way inside, the café's interior transformed but recognizable—tables and chairs fused into organic sculptures, the counter elongated into a spiral that defied Euclidean geometry. But the entropic energies here were subdued, almost dormant, creating a haven in the chaos outside.
Roland collapsed into what had once been a booth, now a concave depression in the wall that still retained its function if not its form. He pressed a hand to his side, wincing. "Definitely broken. Maybe punctured a lung." He looked up at Kaelen, his green eyes searching. "You're different. Since consuming Mercer. I can see it."
Kaelen didn't deny it. He could feel the changes within himself—not just the physical enhancement of his strength and reflexes, but a deeper transformation in his consciousness. The hunger was still there, but it felt more... integrated now, less like a foreign presence and more like an extension of his will.
"His memories," Kaelen said, pacing the café's warped floor. "They're fragmented, but there's enough to confirm what he said about Thorne. The professor was experimenting with dimensional boundaries before the Tower appeared. He was trying to make contact with... something."
"The Crimson Court," Roland supplied, his expression grim. "Vex always suspected, but we had no proof. Thorne claimed his research was theoretical, that he was studying entropic energy patterns, not actively trying to pierce the veil."
"Mercer's memories suggest otherwise." Kaelen stopped pacing, facing Roland directly. "There were experiments. Subjects. People who disappeared during the tests. Including—"
"Vex's sister," Roland finished. "Elara. She was Thorne's research assistant. Brilliant physicist, specialized in quantum entanglement. She vanished during an experiment six months before the Tower appeared. Vex has been searching for answers ever since."
Kaelen absorbed this, connecting it with other fragments from Mercer's memories. "The captain was investigating Thorne. That's why he was so quick to respond when the Tower appeared. He already suspected something was wrong."
"And now we know why Thorne is so interested in you," Roland said, his voice low. "If he caused this, even unintentionally, he'd want to understand it. Control it. Use it to his advantage."
The implications were staggering. If Thorne had indeed made contact with the Crimson Court, if he had somehow facilitated the Tower's emergence... "What do we do with this information?" Kaelen asked. "Confront him?"
Roland's laugh was bitter, ending in a pained cough. "And then what? He's the only one who understands what's happening, who might know how to navigate this chaos. We need him, regardless of what he's done." He shifted, grimacing at the pain. "Besides, Vex would kill him the moment they learned the truth. And we can't afford that kind of division. Not now."
Kaelen nodded, understanding the pragmatic logic even as he recoiled from the moral compromise. "So we keep this between us. For now."
"For now," Roland agreed. "But we watch him. And we find out what he really wants from you. From the Tower." He attempted to stand, then fell back with a grunt of pain. "I need a minute. The crystallized fragments might help with the healing."
Kaelen reached for his pouch, then remembered it was empty. "I used the last one in the museum."
Roland fumbled with his own pouch, extracting a fragment and pressing it against his side. The entropic energy pulsed, flowing into his body. His breathing eased slightly. "Better. Not fixed, but better." He looked up at Kaelen, his expression troubled. "You consumed Mercer without fragments. Without losing control. That's... unprecedented."
"The tablet helped," Kaelen said, though he wasn't entirely convinced that was the full explanation. "The knowledge it contained showed me patterns in Mercer's entropic signature, weaknesses I could exploit."
"And now that knowledge is part of you," Roland observed. "Along with Mercer's memories and power. You're evolving faster than any Anomaly I've seen. Becoming something... new."
The word hung between them, laden with implication. Becoming. The transformation that Vex had spoken of, that the tablet had described as the ultimate goal of the unmaking. Was Kaelen progressing toward ascension to the Crimson Court? Or toward something else entirely?
Before he could pursue that troubling line of thought, a new sensation washed over him—a pressure in his mind, a presence that was both familiar and alien. The Tower's attention, more focused than ever before.
Harbinger. You have consumed one who served. You have absorbed knowledge meant to guide. Your path diverges from the expected. This interests us.
The voice was not spoken aloud but resonated directly in Kaelen's consciousness, bypassing his ears entirely. It was both singular and plural, as if multiple entities spoke in perfect unison.
"Kaelen?" Roland's voice seemed distant, muffled. "What's wrong?"
Kaelen raised a hand, silencing him as he focused on the presence in his mind. "Who are you?" he asked aloud, though he knew the communication was not dependent on speech. "What do you want from me?"
We are the Court. We observe. We select. We elevate. You are a candidate of unusual potential. Your consumption patterns indicate adaptability beyond standard parameters. Your resistance to full integration suggests independence valuable to the Court.
"Integration into what?" Kaelen pressed, aware of Roland watching him with growing concern. "What is the purpose of the unmaking? Of the Tower?"
Renewal. Transformation. The cycle continues as it has across countless realities. The weak are consumed. The worthy ascend. The Court grows. Evolution proceeds.
"And this world? These people? They're just... fuel for your evolution?"
A sensation like amusement rippled through the connection. All realities end. We offer purpose in dissolution. Direction in chaos. The alternative is oblivion without meaning.
Kaelen felt a chill at the casual dismissal of an entire world's worth of lives. "And if I refuse to participate in this... cycle? If I oppose it?"
Opposition is anticipated. Expected. Part of the selection process. Those who resist mindlessly are consumed. Those who resist creatively... interest us more.
The presence began to recede, the pressure in Kaelen's mind easing. Return to your sanctuary, harbinger. Speak with the one who opened the door. Learn his purpose. Decide your path. We will be watching.
As suddenly as it had begun, the communication ended, leaving Kaelen gasping, his mind reeling from the contact. Roland was at his side, supporting him despite his own injuries.
"What happened?" the former guard demanded. "You were talking to... something. Your eyes were glowing crimson."
Kaelen steadied himself, the implications of the conversation settling like lead in his stomach. "The Tower. The Court. They spoke to me directly. They're watching us, Roland. All of us. This isn't just destruction—it's a test. A selection process."
Roland's expression hardened. "For what?"
"Ascension to the Court. They consume dying realities and... recruit from them. Anomalies who show potential, who resist in the right ways." Kaelen ran a hand through his hair, trying to process the enormity of what he'd learned. "They called Thorne 'the one who opened the door.' They confirmed he made contact before the Tower appeared."
"Damn him," Roland muttered. "Did they say what he wanted? Why he did it?"
Kaelen shook his head. "They want me to ask him myself. To learn his purpose." He met Roland's gaze directly. "They're interested in me because I'm not following the expected path. Because I'm consuming differently, resisting differently."
"That's why Vex called you the harbinger," Roland said slowly. "Not just a candidate for ascension, but something... else. Something that might change the Court itself." He straightened, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "We need to get back. The others need to know what we've learned—at least about the Codex and the Court, if not about Thorne's involvement."
They left the café, stepping back into the chaotic landscape of the unmade city. The journey was easier now, Kaelen's enhanced perception guiding them along stable paths that seemed to form in response to his presence. It was as if the entropic energies recognized him, accommodated him, while still maintaining their destructive dance around them.
As they approached the library that concealed the Anomalies' sanctuary, Kaelen felt a growing unease. The conversation with the Court had left him with more questions than answers, and the knowledge that Thorne had deliberately made contact with these entities cast everything in a new, suspicious light. What was the professor's true agenda? Was he seeking to stop the unmaking, or to control it? To save this world, or to secure his own ascension to the Court?
The library came into view, its structure more intact than the surrounding buildings, a bastion of relative stability in the chaos. But as they drew closer, Kaelen sensed something wrong. The entropic energies around the building were disturbed, agitated in patterns that suggested recent violence.
"Something's happened," he said, quickening his pace despite Roland's labored breathing. "The sanctuary's been compromised."
They reached the library's entrance, finding the doors shattered, the membrane that had replaced them torn and pulsating erratically. Inside, the once-orderly rows of bookshelves had been toppled, creating a maze of fallen tomes and splintered wood. Signs of a struggle were everywhere—scorch marks from entropic discharges, smears of a dark, viscous substance that might have been blood, and deep gouges in the floor and walls as if made by massive claws.
"Twisted ones," Roland growled, drawing his weapon despite his injuries. "They found us."
They made their way cautiously through the devastated library, following the trail of destruction toward the hidden entrance to the sanctuary. The tunnel access had been blown open, the concealing bookcase reduced to splinters. The air was thick with entropic particles, making it difficult to breathe, to think clearly.
"Voss!" Roland called out as they descended into the tunnel. "Thorne! Vex! Anyone!"
No response came, only the distant sound of dripping water and the omnipresent hum of entropic energy. The tunnel itself showed signs of a desperate defense—makeshift barricades overturned, more scorch marks, and the unmistakable residue of crystallized fragments shattered in haste.
They reached the chamber that had served as the Anomalies' sanctuary, and Kaelen stopped short, taking in the scene of devastation. The tables had been overturned, the maps and diagrams torn to shreds. Equipment lay broken and scattered across the floor. But there were no bodies, no signs of the other Anomalies—only evidence of their hasty departure or capture.
"They're gone," Roland said, his voice hollow. "All of them."
Kaelen moved deeper into the chamber, his enhanced senses picking up traces of what had happened. The entropic signatures were complex, overlapping—multiple twisted ones had breached the sanctuary, but there was something else as well, a more powerful presence that had directed the attack.
"Not twisted ones alone," he said, examining a particularly dense cluster of entropic residue. "Something else led them. Something more evolved."
Roland joined him, his expression grim. "Another Anomaly? A rival group?"
"Maybe." Kaelen wasn't convinced. The entropic signature was unlike anything he'd encountered before, more refined, more purposeful. "Whatever it was, it knew exactly where to find the sanctuary. This wasn't random."
"Mercer," Roland suggested. "He could have revealed the location before you... consumed him."
Kaelen shook his head. "His memories don't indicate that. He knew about the sanctuary, yes, but not its exact location." He continued examining the chamber, looking for any clue to the other Anomalies' fate. "This feels targeted. Personal."
In the far corner of the chamber, partially hidden beneath a fallen shelf, Kaelen spotted something—a small, leather-bound journal. He retrieved it, recognizing Dr. Voss's neat handwriting on the cover. The journal was open to a recent entry, the ink still relatively fresh.
"'Project Harbinger proceeds as anticipated,'" Kaelen read aloud. "'Subject K demonstrates unprecedented consumption patterns and resistance to Court integration. Thorne believes he may be the key to controlling the ascension process rather than merely participating in it. The Codex's recovery is essential to this end.'" He looked up at Roland, a chill settling in his stomach. "'If successful, Thorne's theory of selective ascension may allow us to direct the Court's evolution rather than simply joining it. K must not learn of this until his transformation has progressed further.'"
Roland's expression darkened. "They were using you. All of them. Not just Thorne."
"As a weapon," Kaelen said, the realization settling like lead in his stomach. "A tool to control the Court itself." He flipped through more pages, finding additional notes on his consumption patterns, his reactions to the crystallized fragments, theories about his unique nature as a transmigrated consciousness. "They've been studying me from the beginning, manipulating my development."
"The mission to the museum," Roland said slowly. "They knew what you'd find. What it would do to you."
"They needed me to absorb the Codex's knowledge," Kaelen agreed, anger building within him. "To prepare me for whatever they're planning." He closed the journal, tucking it into his pocket. "But where are they now? Who attacked the sanctuary?"
Roland moved to another part of the chamber, examining a different pattern of destruction. "Here," he called. "This wasn't part of the attack. This was done afterward, deliberately." He pointed to a section of wall where the stone had been carefully removed, revealing a hidden compartment now empty. "Something was taken. Something important enough to hide even from the rest of us."
Kaelen joined him, sensing traces of a familiar entropic signature. "Vex," he said with certainty. "They were here, after the attack. They took whatever was hidden here."
"But why?" Roland's confusion was evident. "If they were working with Thorne and Voss..."
"Maybe they weren't. Not entirely." Kaelen remembered Vex's cryptic warnings, their apparent distrust of Thorne despite their collaboration. "Remember what Mercer said about Vex's sister? If Thorne was responsible for her disappearance..."
"Vex might have been playing along, waiting for proof," Roland finished. "And now they have it. Or think they do."
A new thought occurred to Kaelen, connecting fragments of Mercer's memories with what they'd learned. "The Codex mentioned previous unmakings, previous Towers. What if Elara wasn't just Thorne's assistant? What if she was like me—a harbinger from the last cycle? Someone who resisted in ways that interested the Court?"
Roland's eyes widened at the implication. "And Thorne has been trying to recreate the conditions, to produce another harbinger he could control. You."
The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture more disturbing than Kaelen had imagined. "We need to find them. All of them. Before Vex takes matters into their own hands, or Thorne implements whatever he's planning."
"But where would they go?" Roland gestured to the devastated sanctuary. "This was our only safe haven."
Kaelen closed his eyes, focusing on the entropic signatures that lingered in the chamber. With his enhanced perception, he could distinguish individual patterns now—Thorne's academic precision, Dr. Voss's clinical efficiency, Vex's fluid adaptability. And beneath them all, a new signature, the one that had led the attack. Familiar yet alien, powerful and purposeful.
His eyes snapped open. "The university," he said with sudden certainty. "Thorne's original laboratory. That's where he first made contact with the Court. That's where he'd go if the sanctuary was compromised."
"And Vex would know that too," Roland added grimly. "If they're seeking revenge..."
"We need to hurry." Kaelen was already moving toward the exit, his mind racing with implications. "If Vex confronts Thorne, if they disrupt whatever he's planning without understanding it fully..."
"It could accelerate the unmaking," Roland finished, following despite his injuries. "Or worse."
They emerged from the devastated library into a changed cityscape. The unmaking had progressed during their absence, the very fabric of reality thinning further. The crimson moon hung lower in the sky, its bloated face seeming to watch their movements with malevolent interest. The Tower pulsed in the distance, its veins of entropic energy pumping more vigorously, as if excited by recent developments.
And within Kaelen, the hunger stirred once more, responding to the heightened entropic energies around them. But it felt different now—less a mindless craving and more a tool at his disposal, a weapon he could direct. The consumption of Mercer, the absorption of the Codex, the direct communication with the Court—all had changed him, accelerated his becoming.
But becoming what? A harbinger of the Court's will? A weapon in Thorne's schemes? Or something else entirely, something neither the professor nor the Court had anticipated?
As they set out toward the university, navigating the increasingly unstable reality of the unmade city, Kaelen felt the weight of choice pressing upon him. The knowledge he'd gained, the power he was developing—they offered possibilities beyond mere survival. The question was no longer whether he would be transformed by the unmaking, but what he would choose to become.
And in that choice, perhaps, lay the fate of this world and countless others.