Location: Veiled Ones Encampment, High Plateau RidgeTime: Four Days Before Zarxes' Arrival
The air was different now.
Thicker. Tense. As if the land itself braced for the coming tide.
Kaelen stood at the edge of the northern cliff, surveying the ridges, crags, and the single winding path that led up toward their sanctuary. The natural terrain was a gift—the canyon would funnel Zarxes' forces. But if the Obelisks were activated before then, it wouldn't matter.
The Awakened wouldn't even scream.
They'd just... forget.
The Plan Unfolds
Kaelen laid out his strategy with Rynn and Lysara at his side, Tyreon pacing near the firepit with his holo-schematics hovering mid-air.
"We have four days," Kaelen began. "Three, if Zarxes forces a march. So we do what rebels always do best—we prepare like we've already lost, and make that our strength."
Rynn grinned. "Finally. A proper war."
Lysara's expression stayed cold. "Let's hope we're still alive to regret it."
Tyreon's fingers danced through Isu glyphs. "I've extracted the cipher from Orisynth's message. It's not a simple counter-code—it's harmonic interference. We'll need to synchronize it with energy pulses from within the Obelisks' range."
"And the catch?" Kaelen asked.
Tyreon grimaced. "Someone will have to get very close. The pulse has to be triggered from inside the effect radius. Whoever does it risks full neural degradation if the timing's off."
Kaelen didn't hesitate. "Then I'll be the one to go."
Lysara stepped forward. "No. You're the one they want. If you fall, the camp collapses. It should be me."
"No," said Rynn. "Me."
They argued. Briefly. Fiercely.
Until Kaelen raised a hand.
"We'll draw lots if we have to. But for now—we train everyone. The Obelisks can only target what they can isolate. If we stay linked—together, focused—we can hold them off long enough."
Forging the Wall
Kaelen spent the next two nights personally training the Awakened—not as soldiers, but as a living shield.
"They'll try to erase your names," he told them. "Erase your dreams, your truths. But so long as one of you remembers who you are… none of you are lost."
He walked the camp with Mira and Aerin, helped Kovar balance his energy outbursts, comforted a shaking child who swore she heard whispers of command lines in her sleep.
Everywhere he went, he reminded them:
"You are not code. You are not weapons. You are memory made flesh."
Nightfall and the Black Beacon
On the third night, the horizon flared red.
A singular column of light rose into the sky from the southern valley. Dark and humming with Isu frequency. The Obelisk.
Kaelen stood with his lieutenants as the wind shifted, carrying a pulse none of them could ignore. Several Awakened dropped to their knees, clutching their heads.
"We have less than two days," Tyreon warned. "Maybe less if they activate the full array."
Kaelen turned to the firelight and carved a final mark into the sanctuary stones—a symbol Vael once used.
Unity.
He looked to his people.
"We hold this ground not for conquest," he said. "But for memory. For every name they tried to erase. For every child they tried to program. For every soul who was told they were nothing but data."
He drew his blade—not of Isu steel, but reforged iron made by human hands.
"When Zarxes comes… we'll show him what legacy really means."