The morning after the breach dawned gray and heavy. The air in the southern district still carried the metallic tang of burnt current, and the streets were littered with fragments of shattered conduits and scorched metal. The once‑steady hum of the city had turned uneven, like a heartbeat struggling to find rhythm again.
Kaelen Burn stood among the wreckage, sleeves rolled up, his hands blackened with soot. He worked alongside a group of volunteers, clearing debris from a collapsed walkway. Every clang of metal against stone echoed through the hollow streets. His muscles ached, but he didn't stop. The work kept his mind from replaying the night before the roar, the light, the shockwave that had thrown him to the ground.
The Guardians had sealed off the southern perimeter. Their armor gleamed faintly in the morning light, runes pulsing with steady rhythm as they directed civilians away from the danger zone. Drones hovered overhead, scanning for unstable current pockets. The air shimmered faintly where the barrier had been rebuilt, a translucent wall of light stretching across the horizon.
Kaelen paused to catch his breath, leaning on a broken beam. The Veil's glow was faint today, a pale shimmer behind the clouds. For once, it didn't feel threatening... just distant, like a memory fading at the edges.
"Hey, Kael!"
He turned to see Lira Venn jogging toward him, her copper braid swinging behind her. She wore her scavenger jacket again, though the edges were singed from the night before. Her silver eyes caught the light, faintly luminescent, a reminder of the current that flowed through her veins.
"You're supposed to be resting," she said, stopping beside him.
"I could say the same to you," he replied, managing a tired smile.
She smirked. "Fair. But I heal faster than you do." Kaelen chuckled softly. "Trait-born perks."
"Exactly." She handed him a small canteen. "Drink. You look like you're about to pass out."
He took it gratefully, the cool water washing away the taste of dust. Around them, the district buzzed with quiet determination. People were rebuilding, patching walls, repairing conduits, sweeping away the remnants of chaos.
Lira glanced toward the sealed barrier. "They say the Paragon drove the Beast back into the Belt."
Kaelen nodded. "I saw him. He was… something else."
"Yeah," she said softly. "They always are."
For a moment, they stood in silence, watching the workers. Then Lira nudged him lightly. "You're coming with me today."
He raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"The upper tiers. I need to deliver some parts to the Academy, and you're the only one who can fix the regulators if they act up."
Kaelen hesitated. The upper tiers weren't exactly welcoming to Nulls. But Lira's expression left no room for argument.
"Fine," he said. "But if someone throws me out, I'm blaming you."
She grinned. "Deal."
The lift that carried them upward was old but sturdy, its walls lined with flickering lights. As it ascended, the city unfolded beneath them. The lower districts fading into a maze of metal and smoke, the mid‑levels glowing with the soft pulse of current lines, and the upper tiers gleaming like a crown of glass.
Kaelen pressed a hand against the window, watching the transition. The air grew cleaner, the light brighter. Up here, the streets were wide and polished, lined with crystalline trees that shimmered faintly.
People moved with purpose. Scholars in long coats, artificers carrying tools that hummed with energy, Guardians in ceremonial armor. Kaelen felt out of place in his worn jacket and oil‑stained gloves.
Lira noticed his discomfort. "Relax. You belong here as much as anyone."
He gave a short laugh. "Tell that to them."
They passed a group of students from the Academy. One of them, a tall boy with silver hair and faintly glowing eyes–glanced at Kaelen, then whispered something to his friends. They laughed quietly.
Lira's jaw tightened, but Kaelen just shook his head. "It's fine."
They reached the Academy's outer gate, a towering structure of glass and steel. The guards scanned Lira's identification rune and waved them through.
Inside, the air hummed with energy. The Academy was a marvel of design, floating platforms, suspended walkways, and massive conduits channeling current through transparent tubes. Students practiced their abilities in open courtyards, shaping light, manipulating metal, or enhancing their bodies with bursts of strength.
Kaelen couldn't help but stare. It was beautiful, and painful.
Lira led him to a maintenance chamber near the central tower. "The regulators here keep overloading," she explained. "They've been trying to fix them for weeks."
Kaelen knelt beside the nearest unit, tools in hand. The casing was sleek, but the wiring inside was a mess. He frowned, tracing the lines with practiced precision.
"Whoever designed this didn't understand balance," he muttered. "They're forcing too much current through the stabilizers."
Lira leaned against the wall, watching him work. "You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
Within minutes, the regulator's hum steadied. The lights above brightened, casting a warm glow across the chamber.
Lira smiled. "You make it look easy."
Kaelen shrugged. "It's just logic. Machines make sense."
"People don't?"
He looked up at her, a faint smirk on his lips. "Not usually."
She laughed, the sound echoing softly through the room.
After finishing the repairs, they stopped by the market square on their way back. The upper‑tier market was nothing like the one below. Stalls floated on levitating platforms, and merchants displayed goods that shimmered with refined current—crystals, weapons, and intricate devices that pulsed with light.
As they browsed, Kaelen overheard a group of scavengers talking near a vendor's stall.
"…found it near the Belt," one said. "Looked like a book, but not paper... crystal, pure and clear. The Orders took it before we could study it."
"Probably another relic," another replied. "They'll lock it away like the rest."
Kaelen paused, listening. A crystalline book. Something about the description tugged at him, though he couldn't explain why.
Lira noticed his expression. "What is it?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just curious."
They continued walking, but the thought lingered.
By the time they returned to the lower district, the sun had dipped below the towers, casting long shadows across the streets. The air was cooler now, the hum of the city softer.
Kaelen parted ways with Lira near the transit line. "Thanks for dragging me up there," he said.
She smiled. "You needed the change of scenery."
"Maybe."
"See you tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
As she disappeared into the crowd, Kaelen turned toward home.
...
His mother, Seren Burn, was waiting when he arrived. She was a slender woman with dark hair streaked with silver and kind eyes that carried both warmth and worry. Their small apartment was tidy, lit by a single current lamp that flickered gently.
"You're late," she said, though her tone was gentle.
"Work ran long," he replied, setting his tools on the table.
She studied him for a moment. "You were near the upper tiers again."
He hesitated. "Lira needed help."
Seren sighed but smiled faintly. "That girl's a good influence on you."
Kaelen chuckled. "She'd disagree."
They ate dinner quietly; synth‑grain stew and filtered water. The simplicity of it was comforting.
Afterward, Seren reached across the table, placing a hand over his. "You're doing well, Kael. I know it's not easy."
He looked down. "I'm just fixing things, Mom. That's all I can do."
"That's more than most," she said softly. "You have a gift, even if the tests couldn't see it."
He didn't answer. He'd heard those words before, but they always felt like hope trying to disguise itself as truth.
...
Later, when she had gone to rest, Kaelen stepped outside. The night air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the city's current lines. He leaned against the railing, looking up at the towers that pierced the sky.
The Veil's glow shimmered faintly above the clouds, distant and silent.
He thought about the scavengers' story—the crystalline book, the artifact the Orders had taken. He thought about the Paragon who had faced the Beast, about the power that seemed to flow so easily through others but never through him.
And yet, as he stood there, he felt something subtle, a faint vibration beneath his skin, like the echo of the city's current. It wasn't strong, barely noticeable, but it was there.
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. Probably just exhaustion.
Tomorrow would be another day of repairs, another day of work.
But somewhere deep inside, beneath the quiet rhythm of his thoughts, a spark waited, small, patient, and unaware of the storm it would one day ignite.
....
The next morning came with the scent of rain. Kaelen woke early, the faint patter of droplets against the window mixing with the hum of the current lines outside. His mother was already gone, called to assist the medics in the southern ward.
He dressed quickly and stepped into the street. The district was quieter than usual, the usual chatter replaced by the sound of distant machinery. Workers were still repairing the damage from the breach, and the air smelled faintly of ozone.
At the corner, he found Lira waiting, leaning against a railing. She looked tired but alert, her silver eyes bright even in the dim light.
"You're up early," he said.
"So are you," she replied. "I figured we could check the conduit lines near the old transit tunnels. They've been unstable since the attack."
Kaelen nodded. "Lead the way."
They walked through the narrow streets, past shuttered shops and flickering lamps. The tunnels lay beneath the district, a network of old transport routes now used for maintenance and storage. The air grew cooler as they descended, the hum of current growing louder.
Lira crouched beside a damaged conduit, her fingers brushing the surface. "The flow's uneven," she murmured. "Feels like it's splitting in two directions."
Kaelen knelt beside her, examining the wiring. "The stabilizer's cracked. I can patch it, but we'll need a new core soon."
She nodded, focusing. A faint glow spread from her hands as she activated her Trait; Resonance Flow. The current around the conduit shimmered, bending to her will. The unstable energy steadied, the hum smoothing into a low, even rhythm.
Kaelen watched, fascinated as always. "You make it look easy."
"It's not," she said, her voice strained.
"It's like trying to calm a storm with your hands."
When the glow faded, she exhaled and sat back. "That should hold for now."
Kaelen tightened the final bolts and stood. "You saved us a lot of trouble."
She smiled faintly. "You fix the machines. I fix the current. We make a good team."
He nodded, and for a moment, the tension of the past days eased.
They spent the rest of the morning checking other conduits, repairing what they could. By midday, the rain had stopped, and sunlight filtered weakly through the cracks above.
As they climbed back to the surface, Lira glanced at him. "You ever think about leaving the Enclave?"
Kaelen blinked. "Leaving?"
"Yeah. Going beyond the walls. Seeing what's out there."
He hesitated. "The Belt's dangerous. The storms, the Beasts…"
"I know," she said. "But sometimes I wonder if there's more than this. More than towers and barriers."
Kaelen looked out at the skyline, the towers gleaming in the distance. "Maybe. But for now, this is all we have."
Lira smiled faintly. "For now."
They parted ways at the junction, the afternoon light casting long shadows across the street. Kaelen returned to his workshop, the familiar scent of oil and metal greeting him. He set his tools on the bench and sat for a moment, listening to the steady hum of the repaired conduits.
The city was alive again, but beneath its rhythm, something new stirred, a quiet anticipation, a sense that change was coming.
Kaelen didn't notice it yet. He only knew that the current felt different, smoother, almost… expectant.
He reached for a damaged regulator, his hands moving automatically. The work grounded him, gave him purpose. But as he adjusted the wiring, a faint spark leapt from the metal, brushing his skin.
It didn't burn. It pulsed... once, twice–then faded.
Kaelen frowned, rubbing his hand. The sensation lingered, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
He shook his head and returned to work.
Outside, the city lights flickered, and far above, the Veil shimmered faintly, its glow reflected in the crimson of his eyes