The Lower Wards of Neo-Shanra were a labyrinth of rust and neon, where the city's pulse beat loudest and ugliest. Kael hunched in the back of a derelict noodle shop, the drone's crash-landing having left them in this shithole district. The air was thick with the stench of fried circuits and cheap soy broth. His ribs ached from the Harbinger's blade, and the shard in his chest hadn't shut up its hum was a constant itch, like a voice he couldn't quite hear.
Mira sat across from him, the shard case on the table between them. Her fingers twitched, itching to open it, but Kael's glare kept her in check. Rhea was at the counter, arguing with the shop's AI vendor over a burner comms unit. The drone was toast, and without a new link to the grid, they were blind.
"Toren's alive," Kael said, breaking the silence. It wasn't a question. He refused to believe otherwise.
Mira didn't look up, her eyes fixed on the case. "You don't know that. The Harbingers"
"He's alive," Kael snapped, louder than he meant. The shop's only other patron a grizzled cyber-junkie with a flickering eye implant glanced over, then went back to his bowl. Kael lowered his voice. "Toren's been through worse. He'll find us."
Mira's lips pressed thin, but she didn't argue. She was scared, though Kael could see it in the way her hands shook, the way she kept glancing at the door. Not just for the Harbingers. For the Protocol. If they were rogue now, the UN's shard hunters wouldn't be far behind.
Rhea slid into the booth, tossing a cracked comms unit onto the table. "Got us a lifeline," she said, her voice all edges. "Encrypted, untraceable, but it's got maybe six hours before the grid sniffs it out. We need a plan, and 'sit here feeling sorry for ourselves' ain't it."
Kael leaned back, wincing as his ribs protested. "Plan's simple. We hide the shard, find Toren, get the hell out of Neo Shanra."
"Simple?" Rhea snorted. "The Protocol's got eyes on every exit. Harbingers are crawling the Wards. And that" she jabbed a finger at the case, "is a goddamn beacon. Every shard head in the city's gonna feel it."
"She's right," Mira said, finally meeting Kael's eyes. "The shard's energy signature is… unstable. It's broadcasting, like it wants to be found. I need to stabilize it, or we're sitting ducks."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Stabilize it how? More of your experiments? Last time you poked a shard, I got a week of migraines."
Mira's gaze hardened. "This isn't just a shard, Kael. It's a fragment of something bigger. The data I pulled in the lab it's got a memory, a purpose. It's linked to your shard." She hesitated, then added, "And your visions."
The noodle shop seemed to shrink, the hum of the shard deafening in Kael's ears. He hadn't told anyone about the visions not the full extent. Fire, ruins, a woman's voice whispering about cycles and oblivion. But Mira's eyes said she knew more than she was letting on.
"Explain," he said, voice low.
Mira opened the case, the shard's violet glow spilling out. The junkie at the counter twitched, like he felt it too. "The shard's emitting a frequency that resonates with yours. It's… talking to you. The visions are fragments of its memory. Maybe a god's memory."
Rhea leaned forward, cybernetic implants glinting in her temples. "You're saying Kael's got a dead god in his head? That's messed up, even for us."
"It's not just in his head," Mira said. "The shard's alive, in a way. And it's waking up."
Kael's hand went to his chest, where the shard was embedded. It felt heavier now, like it was pulling him somewhere. "And if I don't want to play host?"
Mira's silence was answer enough.
The comms unit buzzed, cutting the tension. Rhea snatched it, her fingers dancing over the screen. Her face paled. "Shit. Protocol's got a lockdown on the Wards. Drones, checkpoints, the works. They're calling it a Harbinger sweep, but I'm betting they're after us."
Kael's gut twisted. No Toren, no drone, and now a city wide manhunt. "Options?"
Rhea's grin was sharp, reckless. "I know a guy. Black market shard dealer, owes me a favor. He's got a safehouse in the Underdistrict. If we move fast, we can hole up, maybe get a lead on Toren."
"Or walk into a trap," Kael said, but he was already standing. Sitting still wasn't an option. He looked at Mira. "Can you keep that thing quiet long enough to move?"
She nodded, snapping the case shut. "For now. But we need a lab. Somewhere I can work."
"Underdistrict's got plenty of chop shops," Rhea said. "Just don't expect sterile."
Kael grabbed his shard blade, its hum steadying his nerves. The visions flickered a temple, a scream, the woman's voice: You are the key. He shoved it down. No time for ghosts, not when the living were hunting him.
"Move," he said, leading them into the neon drenched night. The Lower Wards buzzed with danger, and the shard in his chest felt like a ticking bomb.