The enforcers didn't chase him far. Kael had barely slipped into the narrow, winding alleys of Solace City's lower levels when the sound of their heavy footsteps faded into the distance. He clutched the glowing data crystal in his hand, its faint warmth seeping through his fingers like a heartbeat.
Ducking into the shadowed corner of an abandoned warehouse, Kael slumped against the wall, his breath coming in sharp bursts. He stared at the crystal, its pale blue glow pulsing faintly. It felt too alive, too deliberate, and it unnerved him.
For a moment, he considered throwing it away, leaving this mess behind. He could go back to his shop, pretend none of this had happened, and bury himself in routine repairs. But something stopped him. The memory of the whisper echoed in his mind:
Kael. Help me.
The voice wasn't just some trick of his imagination. It was real, and it knew his name.
Kael's fingers tightened around the crystal as another memory surfaced Alina's laughter.
They had grown up in the shadow of Solace City's towering spires, in a cramped apartment that barely held together. The lower levels were a harsh place to live, but Alina had always managed to find joy in the smallest things.
"Kael, look!" Her voice had been bright, her dark curls bouncing as she spun in a circle. She held up a small contraption she'd cobbled together from spare parts of an old wristband with gears soldered to it. "It's a time turner!"
Kael, a gangly teenager at the time, had raised an eyebrow. "That's just junk."
"It's not junk," she'd said, sticking out her tongue. "It's a way to fix things. To undo mistakes. See?" She'd held it up to the sunlight streaming through the window, the gears catching the light. "When you spin it, it makes everything better."
Kael had laughed then, ruffling her hair. "You're such a dreamer, Alina."
"I'll prove it works one day," she'd replied, her eyes sparkling with determination.
The memory twisted, turning bitter. Alina had been more than a dreamer she'd been a fighter. When her illness had taken hold, she'd refused to give up. Ascension had seemed like her chance to live, to keep dreaming.
But it had stolen her instead.
Kael exhaled sharply, the weight of her loss pressing down on him like a vice. He'd been powerless to save her then. But now, holding the data crystal, he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in years.
Purpose.
Kael returned to his shop under the cover of darkness, locking the door behind him and drawing the blinds. He moved quickly, clearing a space on his cluttered workbench and powering up his diagnostic system.
He hesitated for only a moment before inserting the crystal into the console. The holographic display flickered to life, lines of code scrolling across the screen. At first, it was just fragmented data schematics, system logs, and encrypted files. But then a familiar voice emerged, soft and fractured:
Kael. I knew you'd find me.
Kael's heart stopped. He leaned closer to the screen, his breath catching. "Alina?"
The hologram shifted, pixels forming the outline of a face. It wasn't clear, but he recognized the contours of her features the high cheekbones, the slightly crooked smile she used to flash whenever she'd outsmarted him.
"It's… it's not possible," Kael whispered, his voice trembling.
It's me, Kael, the voice said again, though it flickered with static. I don't have much time. They're looking for me. You have to.....
The image distorted, the connection breaking. Kael slammed his fist against the console. "No, no, no! Don't disappear!"
But the hologram had already faded, leaving only the glow of the crystal and the soft hum of his console.
Kael stared at the blank screen, his mind racing. He had spent years trying to accept that Alina was gone. The Ascension process had been heralded as a miracle, a way to preserve consciousness forever. But for Alina, it had failed or so he'd been told.
Now, for the first time, doubt crept into his mind. What if the process hadn't failed? What if her consciousness had been transferred, but something had gone wrong? The Echelon's control over the Ascension program was absolute. If they'd hidden the truth, Kael would never have known.
He thought back to the prototype Clockwork and the crystalline core he'd examined earlier. The advanced tech, the whisper in his mind it all pointed to one thing. Someone or something was trapped inside.
And if that prototype had been built using technology from the early days of Ascension, it wasn't impossible that Alina's consciousness had been preserved somewhere, buried in the system's depths.
Kael's jaw tightened. If there was even a chance Alina was still out there, he had to find her.
The sound of footsteps outside the shop snapped him out of his thoughts. Kael quickly removed the crystal from the console, stuffing it into his pocket as he turned off the lights. He grabbed a wrench from the workbench, his fingers tightening around the cool metal.
The footsteps paused, then continued, fading into the distance. Kael exhaled slowly, his grip on the wrench relaxing.
He couldn't stay here. The enforcers knew his name now, and it was only a matter of time before they returned. He needed to move and he needed help.
Kael's mind turned to the underground resistance, a loosely connected network of hackers and renegades who operated in the shadows of Solace City. They were rumored to have access to parts of the system even the Echelon couldn't touch. If anyone could help him uncover the truth about the crystal and the prototypes, it was them.
But reaching them wouldn't be easy. They were paranoid, secretive, and scattered across the lower levels. Kael had heard rumors of their meeting points hidden nodes disguised as repair stations, abandoned warehouses, and back-alley dens. He just hoped the rumors were true.
Grabbing a satchel, Kael stuffed the crystal and a few tools inside before slipping out the back door of his shop. The air was thick with smog, the faint glow of the city's upper spires barely visible through the haze.
As he disappeared into the shadows, a single thought burned in his mind:
Alina's not gone. Not yet.