Aiden's heart was a war drum. Each beat a thunderclap.
He stared at her — silver hair shimmering faintly under the fractured glow of the outer crust, eyes that flickered between green and faint red. For a moment, the world went still. No snapping branches. No growling raptors. No breathless chase. Just her.
"Lila," he whispered, his voice cracked with disbelief. His lips trembled, breath short and uneven. His eyes darted over every detail of her face, searching for something, anything to prove this wasn't a dream. Silver hair. Strange armor lined with glowing green accents. But that smile… that crooked grin that tugged up only on the left side, the one she always gave him when she wanted to pretend she had everything figured out.
He moved before he even realized it.
"Lila!" he shouted, his body surging forward like a wave crashing on shore. His heart burned with something fierce, something raw. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in, clutching her so tightly that for a second, he thought she'd vanish if he let go.
His fingers dug into the cold metal of her armor, his head pressed against her shoulder. He didn't care. He didn't think. His breath hitched as everything poured out of him in that one embrace.
"I thought— I thought you were gone," he gasped, voice shaking like glass on the verge of shattering. "I tried to hold on. I tried. I—" His words came out in a rush, one after the other, as if saying them fast enough would make the moment real. His chest shook with each breath. "I couldn't save you. I couldn't—"
Her body stiffened for a heartbeat.
Her eyes flicked to him, sharp as a dagger's edge. The glow in her eyes flared—faint red, then green, then something colder. Her lips parted, no sound escaping for a breath too long. Slowly, her hands raised.
One hand pressed gently on the back of his head. The other against his back. A pause. Then, her fingers threaded through his hair, slow, deliberate strokes.
Her eyes softened, the sharp edge in them dulled. Her head tilted forward, her cheek resting lightly on his. "Shh..." she cooed, her voice honey-sweet, words coated in warmth. "It's okay, dummy. You're okay now."
Her voice hit him harder than anything else. It wasn't her touch, or her glow, or her face. It was her voice. Not a ghost. Not a fragment. Her.
"I'm here now," she said softly, her breath brushing against his ear like a breeze. "You're not alone anymore."
He squeezed tighter, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath shaking against her armor. His voice was muffled, but she heard him clear as day.
"I missed you."
Her eyes flickered faint red again. The hand on the back of his head stilled.
Her smile widened, just a hair too sharp. Her fingers brushed down his hair slowly, nails gliding like claws about to sink in. Her eyes flickered again—red, green, then dimmed to something soft and familiar.
Patience.
"I—Missed you too, Aiden," she said, her tone silk-smooth. Her eyes tilted upward, peering into the endless expanse of the outer crust. Her grin softened into something smaller, more sincere. Her hand rested lightly on his back, fingers tapping softly like a lullaby's rhythm.
Her gaze, however, didn't soften. Her eyes flicked to the distance, to the fog that swirled like oil slicks on water.
The Core is patient. But patience is not infinite.
They walked side by side.
Roots jutted from the floor like veins in flesh, twisting into grotesque shapes. The terrain changed as they moved, from tangled masses of flora to smooth, reflective buildings with thick black glass. The foilage overgrowth devouring pieces of fragments long lost to time. Faint images shimmered within the reflections. Familiar places. Illusions.
The glow of Aiden's ring danced around his hands like tiny embers flickering on the breeze. His eyes never strayed far from her. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, studying her like she might vanish the moment he blinked. Her silver hair flowed in soft waves, not wild or unkempt. Her steps were firm, precise. Her body moved with the fluid grace of a predator.
She didn't walk like Lila. But her voice was right. Her smile was right.
He wanted it to be right.
"Don't stare at me like that," she teased, catching his gaze. "People might think you like me or something."
His breath caught. He coughed, looking away quickly. "Don't flatter yourself," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just… making sure you're real."
"I'm real, dummy," she said, tapping his head with the side of her finger. "More real than that weird power you keep flinging around."
He winced, brushing his hair where she'd tapped him. She always did that.
After a few heartbeats, she pulled back, her hands still resting on his shoulders. She leaned forward, her forehead barely brushing his. Her eyes locked with his, her grin playful, laced with something deeper.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, voice low but firm. "It's not safe in this part of the outer crust. The Core's defenses run wild here. Shadows, enforcers, Carnivorous plants, spore-beasts, and things worse than raptors."
Aiden nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah, what a welcome party."
"Come on," she said, tugging him by the wrist, her eyes scanning the tree line ahead. "There's a safer path to the lower roots. I know the way."
"Alright," he said quietly, giving her hand a gentle tug as she took the lead. "Let's go."
They moved together, Aiden following close behind her. Massive flowers, the size of car hoods, opened and shut like iron traps as they passed. Vines slithered like snakes, twisting to follow their movements.
A sharp, high-pitched screech echoed from the trees. The bulb of a flower snapped open, revealing jagged, tooth-like petals that clattered like grinding stones. The stench of rotting meat hit Aiden's nose like a hammer.
"Move!" Lila barked, grabbing his wrist and yanking him forward. Her grip was strong, too strong. He barely had time to think as they darted past the snapping flowers. The ground quaked as roots burst up like grasping hands. Aiden vaulted over them, breath ragged, his dark mist armor slowly trailing in his wake.
One of the flowers lunged at him. Lila spun, her hand raised. Black veins flickered along her fingers, and a dark pulse shot from her palm, twisting the air as it struck the plant dead-center. The bulb shuddered, spasmed, and curled in on itself with a shrill screech before it withered.
Aiden's steps faltered. That power. That wasn't right. He glanced at her hand, eyes narrowing. "That wasn't your light, Lila."
She glanced at him from over her shoulder, eyes sharp. "Yeah, I'm an enforcer now," she said bluntly, flicking her fingers like dusting them off. Her eyes didn't linger on him long. "Had to be. You know how it is."
"...Enforcer?" Aiden repeated, slowing his pace. "Since when?"
"Since I realized being helpless sucked," she replied, tilting her head with a grin. Her words were light, but her eyes didn't match. "Don't worry about it, alright? I'm still me."
He kept his eyes on her hands, watching for that flicker of black.
Her gaze lingered on him, eyes sharp but patient. Calculating. She noticed his eyes trace the faint red glow of her fingertips. He noticed.
"It's just something that… happened," she said, voice light, dismissive. "You don't survive out here without a few changes, Aiden."
His brow furrowed, gaze fixed on her hands as she flicked them. Small sparks of shadow danced from her fingers. She waved her hand, and the shadows faded like they'd never been there.
"The core," she said simply, giving him a side glance. "It called me here. Said I'd be useful." She tilted her head toward him, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a grin like a cat who caught something small and vulnerable. "But I didn't forget you."
He tensed. His mind wrestled with the thought, the pieces of it jagged and uneven. "The core called you here?" he muttered, his eyes sharp. "So you do its bidding?"
"Do its bidding?" she echoed, her eyes distant, almost bitter. "I Work for the core. There's a difference."
His eyes narrowed further. "Most enforcers kill people."
"People kill people, Aiden," she said with a roll of her eyes. "The Core just gives them a choice." Her smile sharpened, eyes glowing faint red. "Sometimes, people choose to just fade away."
His steps slowed.
Her gaze flicked to him, her grin faltering. Her eyes stayed on him a second too long, her lips tightening just slightly.
"...Sylva's been in your ear, huh?" Her words were slow, calculated. Each one a venom-tipped arrow. "The core says, She makes it so black and white. Core bad. Sylva good." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Must be nice seeing the world in just good and evil right?"
"Not good and evil," Aiden replied, tone sharp as steel. His gaze locked with hers. "Some things are just wrong."
Her eyes flashed. Her smile froze in place.
Careful, the Core whispered within her. Don't push too far.
"Of course," she said, her voice light again.
"But if you never question it, you're no different from a puppet." She glanced at him with a tilt of her head, her voice softer, warmer. "You're not being strung along by this world, right, Aiden?"
His jaw tightened, gaze set forward. He didn't answer.
Her grin stayed, but her eyes burned faint red. "At least not yet," she muttered under her breath.
They reached a clearing. Ahead, a wide tunnel opened into a larger cavern where the root systems hung like jagged teeth. Veins of glowing orange light pulsed through the roots, like magma moving through arteries.
"There," she said, pointing at the entrance. She tugged his hand lightly, fingers intertwined with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That's where we're going."
His breath slowed. His gaze lingered on their hands, then back to the cavern. His mind distracted by the friends he might leave behind.
Her eyes didn't leave his face. Her fingers squeezed his once. Her smile softened again, her eyes dimming faintly to green.
"Come on," she said, tilting her head, pulling him toward the cavern. Her voice was so soft. So familiar. "Don't leave me behind this time."
He glanced at her, heart thudding.
"Yeah," he muttered, gripping her hand a little tighter. "Yeah, I got you."
He didn't see the faint flicker of red that flashed in her eyes.
Her grin widened, slow and sharp. "Yes, you do."