Chapter 5: The Shards of Memory

Kyra’s hands shook as she bolted the door to her apartment. Her lungs burned, and her legs ached from the frantic climb out of the ravine. She slumped against the door, sliding to the floor, her satchel clutched tightly against her chest. The whispers had quieted now, reduced to faint murmurs that drifted in and out of her thoughts. But the image of the shadows—those shifting, amorphous forms—was seared into her mind.

She drew the shard from her satchel and placed it on her desk. Its glow had dimmed, but it still pulsed faintly, almost as if it were alive. It felt warm under her fingers, the faint hum resonating in her bones. For a long moment, she simply stared at it, her mind racing. The man’s words echoed in her thoughts: The pieces are scattered across Aethon. If we can find them, we might be able to shut the signal down.

Her fingers trembled as she opened her notebook and flipped to a blank page. The images and sensations from the signal were still fresh in her mind, fragments of a story she barely understood. She sketched quickly, trying to capture the jagged shapes of the shadows, the glowing structure in the ravine, and the shifting carvings on its surface. Each line felt like a puzzle piece, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers were just out of reach.

Kyra paused, her pencil hovering over the page. The signal was connected to Earth’s past, to the legacy of a world the Luminar had tried to forget. But the shadows weren’t part of that legacy. They were something else, something that had latched onto the signal like a parasite. And now they were here, lurking in the darkness, waiting for their moment to strike.

The shard pulsed again, its glow intensifying for a brief moment before fading. Kyra’s heart skipped a beat. She leaned closer, her fingers brushing the surface of the shard. The hum grew louder, resonating through her fingertips. The whispers surged again, not in her mind but in the room around her, faint and fragmented, as though carried on the air.

Her breath caught as a single word formed in the whispers, clear and unmistakable: “Seek.”

Kyra’s pulse quickened. “Seek what?” she muttered under her breath, forgetting the taboo against sound in her rising frustration. The shard gave no answer, its glow fading back to its faint, steady rhythm. She sat back, her mind racing. The pieces of the signal were out there, buried in the ruins of Aethon’s forgotten past. If she could find them, maybe she could piece together the full story—maybe she could even stop the shadows.

But she couldn’t do it alone.

The thought filled her with dread. The man in the ravine was gone, and she had no idea how to find him again. The Council was out of the question; they would never allow her to continue this search, let alone acknowledge the existence of the signal. That left only one option: Lyric.

Kyra grimaced at the thought. Lyric had been her closest friend once, back when they were both apprentices at the dig sites. But their friendship had soured over the years, fractured by Kyra’s obsession with Earth’s history and Lyric’s staunch loyalty to the Council. They hadn’t spoken in months, and Kyra doubted Lyric would be eager to help her now. But Lyric had access to the archives, and if anyone could help her track down the locations of the remaining shards, it was her.

Kyra pushed herself to her feet, shoving the shard back into her satchel. The streets of Illenar were quiet as she stepped outside, the faint crimson light of the dying sun casting long shadows across the cobblestones. She moved quickly, her head down, avoiding the gaze of the Watchers who patrolled the alleyways. The whispers had faded again, but the tension in her chest remained. Every shadow seemed to move in the corner of her vision, every flicker of light a potential threat.

Lyric’s apartment was in the upper district, a sprawling network of narrow streets and towering spires that overlooked the rest of the city. The journey was nerve-wracking, every step punctuated by the silent, watchful presence of the city’s enforcers. By the time Kyra reached Lyric’s door, her palms were slick with sweat, and her heart was pounding in her chest.

She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the door. What if Lyric turned her away? What if she reported her to the Council? The risks were enormous, but Kyra knew she didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly, the sound barely audible against the silence of the street.

The door creaked open a moment later, and Lyric’s face appeared in the gap. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her sharp, piercing eyes narrowed as she took in Kyra’s disheveled appearance.

“Kyra,” Lyric signed, her gestures quick and precise. “What are you doing here?”

“I need your help,” Kyra signed back, her movements hesitant. “It’s important.”

Lyric frowned, her gaze flicking to the satchel at Kyra’s side. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she signed. “The Watchers—”

“Please,” Kyra interrupted, stepping closer. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t urgent. It’s about the signal.”

Lyric’s expression darkened. She glanced over her shoulder, then stepped aside, motioning for Kyra to come in. The apartment was small but meticulously organized, its walls lined with shelves of books and artifacts. Lyric closed the door behind her and turned to face her, arms crossed.

“What are you talking about?” Lyric signed, her gestures sharp with suspicion. “What signal?”

Kyra hesitated, then reached into her satchel and pulled out the shard. Its glow cast eerie patterns across the room, illuminating the shock in Lyric’s expression.

“This,” Kyra signed. “It’s part of something bigger. A message from Earth—or what’s left of it. But it’s been corrupted, and now it’s dangerous. I think there are more pieces out there, scattered across Aethon. I need your help to find them.”

Lyric stared at the shard, her expression unreadable. When she finally signed, her gestures were slow and deliberate. “You’re risking everything by bringing this to me. The Council doesn’t want us digging into Earth’s past. You know that.”

“I don’t care what the Council wants,” Kyra signed, her hands trembling. “This is bigger than their rules, bigger than their fear of noise. The shadows are real, Lyric. I saw them. They’re coming for us.”

Lyric’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “The shadows? That’s just a story—”

“It’s not,” Kyra interrupted, her gestures frantic. “I saw them in the Hollow Expanse. They’re connected to the signal. If we don’t figure this out, they’ll destroy everything.”

For a long moment, Lyric said nothing. She glanced at the shard again, her brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she sighed and motioned for Kyra to sit.

“Start from the beginning,” she signed. “And don’t leave anything out.”

Kyra nodded, her heart pounding as she began to recount everything: the excavation site, the whispers, the encounter in the Hollow Expanse, and the man who had told her about the scattered shards. Lyric listened in silence, her expression growing darker with every detail. When Kyra finished, the room felt impossibly quiet, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

Lyric stood and crossed to one of the shelves, pulling down a weathered map of Aethon. She spread it out on the table, her fingers tracing the lines of its worn surface. “If what you’re saying is true,” she signed, “then the shards would be in places like this.” She pointed to several marked ruins scattered across the map, each one labeled with the name of a long-abandoned city.

“These sites are heavily monitored,” Lyric signed. “The Watchers won’t let you get close without permission.”

“Then we’ll have to be careful,” Kyra signed, her determination outweighing her fear. “If we don’t do this, no one else will.”

Lyric hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll help you. But if we’re caught, we’re both finished.”

Kyra managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

As they planned their next move, the shard pulsed faintly, its glow casting long shadows across the map. The signal was waiting, and Kyra could feel the weight of its presence in her mind. The journey ahead would be dangerous, but she knew one thing for certain: the truth was out there, buried in the ruins of Aethon, and she wouldn’t stop until she found it.

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