Kael's vision swam with blinding light, a kaleidoscope of gold and white that burned against the dark backdrop of the Expanse. He tried to move, but his limbs felt leaden, as though he were caught in some invisible current. Voices whispered at the edges of his consciousness—alien, fractured words he couldn't quite grasp. Then, with a sharp jolt, the light receded, and the world snapped back into focus.
The construct stood before him, its golden eyes glowing softly. The intricate patterns carved into its metallic surface pulsed with a rhythmic energy, as though it were alive. Kael staggered to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger, though he wasn't sure what good it would do against something like this.
"Synchronization: stabilized," the construct announced, its voice smooth and precise. It inclined its head slightly, as if analyzing him. "Subject designation: Kael Ardyn. Primary traits: resilience, latent Aetheric potential."
Kael frowned, his grip tightening on the dagger. "How do you know my name?"
"Your Resonance signature is unique. Identification was a trivial process." The construct's head tilted, its glowing eyes narrowing slightly. "Your hostility is unnecessary. I am not your enemy."
Kael took a cautious step back, his instincts screaming at him to leave this thing behind and disappear into the ruins. But something about its words—about it—held him in place.
"What are you?" he asked finally, his voice wary.
The construct straightened, its posture oddly regal for something made of metal and circuits. "Designation: Rho. I am a sentinel of the Old World, created to safeguard knowledge and maintain balance." It paused, its gaze locking onto Kael with unnerving intensity. "You have awakened me, and in doing so, have bound our fates together."
Kael's chest tightened. "I didn't awaken anything. I just found you buried here."
"Incorrect," Rho replied. "The activation sequence required both proximity and Resonance compatibility. You possess both."
Kael shook his head, taking another step back. "This has to be a mistake. I don't have Resonance—at least not the kind that… whatever you're talking about."
Rho's golden eyes flared briefly, as if in challenge. "You underestimate your potential. Your Aetheric signature is irregular but potent, a trait that makes you… unique. It is why the Citadel marked you."
At the mention of the Citadel, Kael's blood ran cold. Memories of fire and screams surged to the surface, but he forced them down, his jaw tightening. "What do you know about the Citadel?"
Rho's gaze didn't waver. "They are not what they claim to be. Their pursuit of order comes at great cost, and their interest in you is… significant. If you wish to understand the truth, you will need my guidance."
Kael's laugh was bitter. "And what makes you think I'd trust a talking hunk of metal?"
Rho's head tilted again, the faint hum of its core filling the silence. "Distrust is logical, given your history. But your survival hinges on this partnership. Alone, you will perish. Together, we may endure."
Kael's fingers brushed against the empty space on his belt where his last Aether Crystal had been. The weight of his situation pressed down on him. The Expanse was unforgiving, and without supplies, his chances of lasting another day were slim. As much as he hated to admit it, the construct's logic was sound.
"Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "We work together. But only until I'm out of this wasteland. After that, we're done."
Rho's eyes dimmed slightly, a gesture Kael interpreted as something akin to amusement. "A pragmatic decision. Acceptable terms."
The journey through the Expanse was as treacherous as ever, but with Rho at his side, Kael found himself navigating the dangers with an efficiency he hadn't thought possible. The construct's knowledge of the terrain was unparalleled, and it seemed to anticipate the appearance of Mana Beasts and Voidstorms with uncanny accuracy.
Still, the partnership was far from harmonious. Rho's clinical demeanor grated on Kael's nerves, and its cryptic remarks about his potential only deepened his mistrust.
"You said you were created to safeguard knowledge," Kael said as they took shelter beneath the remains of a shattered bridge. "What kind of knowledge?"
Rho paused, its golden eyes flickering as if searching for the right words. "The knowledge of Aetheric manipulation, the truths of the Old World, and the mechanisms that govern our reality." It turned its gaze to him. "But my memories are… fragmented. Much of my purpose remains obscured."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "So you're broken."
Rho didn't react to the jab. "Incomplete. But functional. And capable of assisting you in ways no one else can."
Kael leaned back against the cold stone, his mind churning. The construct's answers were frustratingly vague, but there was an undeniable weight to its words. If Rho was telling the truth about the Citadel's interest in him, then leaving this partnership could cost him more than he was willing to risk.
But trusting anyone—anything—was a gamble he'd sworn never to take again.
"If you betray me," he said quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger, "I'll find a way to shut you down. Permanently."
Rho's gaze met his, unflinching. "Understood."
For a moment, the only sound was the distant howl of the wind. Kael closed his eyes, exhaustion tugging at the edges of his consciousness. The Expanse was unforgiving, but he'd survived this long by staying sharp, by keeping his guard up.
And now, for better or worse, he wasn't alone.
By the time they reached the edge of the ruins, the horizon was painted with the deep orange glow of a setting sun. The sky above was fractured, streaked with veins of iridescent light that pulsed faintly against the encroaching darkness. Kael's body ached with every step, but he forced himself to keep moving.
Rho stopped suddenly, its head tilting as if listening to something. "A Voidstorm approaches."
Kael groaned. "Of course it does."
The construct turned to him, its golden eyes bright. "We must find shelter. Follow me."
Without waiting for a response, Rho began moving, its strides precise and unwavering. Kael hesitated for a moment before sighing and following. As much as he hated relying on the construct, he knew he didn't have much of a choice.
The storm was coming, and the Expanse wasn't done with him yet.