Midnight over Sector Eleven. Rain whispered against the rooftops, the streets below empty—too quiet for a city still healing.
And then, the screaming started.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't animal.
It was something else.
---
Jalen woke with a jolt.
The Ember Core in his chest flared faintly—just for a second—but enough to make his heart slam against his ribs.
He threw on his coat and was already moving when Reyka called in over comms.
"Emergency. Sector Eleven. Something's tearing through containment patrols. We've got four Rift signatures—none of them match Null."
"I'm on it," he said.
So were the others.
---
They found the first one in the shell of an old subway station—half-collapsed, filled with red mist that glowed unnaturally.
The creature looked… human once. Now it was elongated, pulsing with Riftfire veins, eyes like molten obsidian. It spoke in broken echoes—fragments of memory that didn't belong to it.
"Jalen… Eclipse… burn…"
Then it attacked.
Ari was the first to move, launching into a spin kick that shattered one of its limbs, but it grew another instantly. Reyka activated a disruptor net, but the thing slipped between blinks of time.
"Not a mutant," Reyka shouted. "It's a Riftborn!"
Jalen closed his eyes—and called the Ember Core.
Light burst from him, and the creature shrieked, retreating like shadow from flame. In the flash, he saw what it was:
A survivor of the Rift collapse.
Not a person… but a memory that refused to die.
---
Across the city, more appeared.
Some tried to speak.
Some only screamed.
Each one was different—but all of them radiated power that didn't belong to this world.
Back at the Citadel, Gravemind analyzed one of the containment remains. His hands shook.
"These aren't echoes," he said. "They're invasions. Like the Rift left behind holes in reality—and something's crawling through."
Pulse sat quietly. "I've been hearing voices," she whispered. "Every time I sleep. They call me by names I've never known."
Nyx, watching from the shadows, spoke gravely.
"This isn't aftermath," she said. "This is evolution."
---
At the edge of Nova, in the deep ruins where the Rift once bled into the earth, a figure stood beneath the stars—robed in black, skin marked with glowing glyphs. Watching. Listening.
They raised one hand.
The ground split open.
From it emerged something ancient. Forgotten.
Not from this world.
But drawn to it.
The Rift had closed.
But its children…
Had just begun to wake.