The storm came without warning.
Kaelen Burn had been working since dawn, his hands deep in the guts of a broken conduit near the southern edge of Veyra Enclave. The air smelled of ozone and rust, and the faint hum of current pulsed through the ground beneath his boots. He'd been patching the same line for hours, sweat dripping down his neck, when the first tremor hit.
The ground shuddered, just enough to make his tools rattle. He froze, listening. The hum of the current shifted, it was off‑beat, uneven. He frowned and glanced at the monitor beside him. The readings spiked, then dropped, then spiked again.
"Lira," he called over his shoulder. "Are you seeing this?"
She was crouched a few meters away, her copper braid hanging loose as she traced her fingers along a conduit panel. The faint glow of her Resonant Flow shimmered around her hands, silver light threading through the cracks in the metal.
"Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "The current is unstable. It's splitting somewhere upstream."
Kaelen wiped his hands on his jacket and stood. "Could be a regulator failure."
"Could be worse," she muttered. "Feels like something's pushing back."
He frowned. "Pushing back? What–"
She looked up at him, eyes bright with reflected light, cutting him off before he could complete his words. "The current's alive, Kael. You know that. It moves, it breathes. But this... this feels wrong. Like it's fighting itself."
Before he could answer, the tremor came again, stronger this time. Dust rained from the ceiling of the tunnel. The lights flickered, then steadied.
Kaelen grabbed his toolkit. "We need to shut it down before it blows."
Lira nodded and moved to the control panel. Her fingers danced across the interface, but the system didn't respond. The screen flashed red.
"Manual override's locked," she said. "It's rerouting power from the upper tiers."
Kaelen swore under his breath. "Tch, of course it is."
He knelt beside the conduit, prying open a side panel. The heat hit him immediately, waves of it rolling out like breath from a furnace. The current inside was surging, arcs of light snapping across the coils.
"Kael," Lira said quietly. "We should get out."
He shook his head. "If this line ruptures, it'll take half the district with it."
She hesitated, then crouched beside him. "Then we fix it fast."
They worked in silence, the air was thick with tension. Kaelen's hands moved automatically, disconnecting damaged wires, rerouting flow through auxiliary lines. Lira steadied the current with her Resonant Flow, her light weaving through the conduit like threads of silk.
For a moment, it seemed to work. The hum steadied, the heat started to fade. Kaelen exhaled, relief washing through him.
Then the monitor screamed once more.
The readings spiked off the chart. The conduit roared, light bursting from the seams. Kaelen barely had time to shout before the explosion tore through the tunnel.
He hit the ground hard, the world spinning. His ears rang, his vision blurred. The air was thick with smoke and dust. Somewhere nearby, metal groaned and collapsed.
"Lira!" he shouted, coughing.
"..." No answer.
He pushed himself up, pain flaring in his ribs. The tunnel was half‑collapsed, debris scattered everywhere. Sparks rained from the ceiling. He spotted her a few meters away, pinned under a fallen beam.
"Lira!"
She stirred weakly, her voice faint. "Kael… the current… it's still building…"
He stumbled toward her, shoving debris aside. The conduit behind them pulsed with blinding light, the hum rising to a scream.
"Don't move," he said, bracing himself against the beam. He pushed, muscles straining, but it barely shifted.
"Kael, you have to go," she said. "It's going to blow again."
"Not without you."
He pushed harder, teeth gritted. The beam groaned, then lifted just enough for her to crawl free. She gasped, clutching her side.
The conduit's light flared again, brighter than before. The air vibrated, the ground trembling beneath them.
Lira looked up, eyes wide. "It's going to rupture–"
Kaelen didn't think. He grabbed her and threw himself over her as the conduit exploded.
The world dissolved into light.
For a heartbeat, there was no sound, no heat, no pain—only stillness. The light stretched and folded, bending around him. He felt weightless, suspended in a sea of motion.
Then he saw it.
The current wasn't just energy—it was structure. Threads of light weaving through everything, connecting stone, air, flesh. Each thread pulsed with rhythm, a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
He reached out instinctively, and the threads responded. They bent toward him, wrapping around his hand, humming with warmth.
A voice echoed in the silence. Not loud, not human—just a whisper that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
[Synchronizing.]
The light surged. The threads tightened, pulling him into their rhythm. His heartbeat matched theirs, his breath syncing with the pulse of the current.
[Chrononaut System: Initialization Complete.]
The words burned across his vision, faint and translucent.
[User: Kaelen Burn.]
[Vital Synchronization: 87%.]
[Temporal Field: Stable.]
Then the world snapped back.
...
Kaelen gasped, the sound tearing from his throat. He was lying on the ground, the tunnel around him scorched but intact. The air was thick with smoke, but the conduit or what was left of it, was silent. The light had faded.
Lira stirred beside him, coughing. "Kael…?"
He turned to her, relief flooding through him. "You're alive."
She blinked, dazed. "What… what happened?"
He looked around. The debris that had been falling mid‑explosion was scattered across the floor, but something was off. The scorch marks on the walls were reversed, as if the blast had pulled inward instead of out.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "But we're still here."
She sat up slowly, wincing. "You stopped it."
He shook his head. "No. I couldn't have."
But deep down, he knew something had changed. His body felt different, somewhat lighter, sharper. The hum of the current wasn't just sound anymore; he could feel it, like a pulse beneath his skin.
Lira reached out, touching his arm. "Kael, your eyes…"
He frowned. "What about them?"
"They're glowing."
He blinked, startled. The reflection in a shard of metal showed faint crimson light flickering in his irises, fading as he stared.
Before he could speak, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the tunnel. Guardians.
"Come on," Lira said, pulling him up. "We need to get out before they start asking questions."
He nodded, still dazed, and followed her through the rubble.
They emerged into the open air just as the rain began to fall. The city stretched before them, lights flickering in the distance. The storm clouds above glowed faintly with current, lightning tracing slow arcs across the sky.
Lira leaned against a wall, breathing hard. "That was too close."
Kaelen nodded, staring at his hands. They were trembling, faint sparks of light flickering between his fingers before fading.
"Kael," she said softly. "What did you do down there?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Whatever it was, it saved us."
He didn't answer. His mind was still replaying the moment... the light, the threads, the voice.
The words echoed in his head, clear and calm.
They made their way back to the lower district in silence. The streets were nearly empty, the rain washing away the dust and ash. When they reached the workshop, Lira stopped at the door.
"You should rest," she said. "You look like hell."
He managed a weak smile. "You're not much better."
She smirked. "Fair." Then her expression softened. "Kael… whatever happened down there, be careful. The Orders don't like things they can't explain."
He nodded. "I know."
She hesitated, then turned to leave. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
When she was gone, Kaelen stepped inside. The workshop was quiet, the faint vibration of repaired conduits filling the air. He sat at his workbench, staring at his hands again.
The faint glow returned, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Then, without warning, the voice returned.
[Chrononaut System: Active.]
[Temporal Field Calibration: Incomplete.]
[Would you like to begin synchronization?]
Kaelen froze. The words hovered in his vision, faint but unmistakable.
He swallowed hard. "What are you?"
[System Response: Chrononaut Interface. Temporal Synchronization Unit.]
[Purpose: To stabilize and manipulate temporal flow.]
He stared, heart pounding. "Temporal flow?"
[Affirmative.]
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "This is insane."
[Correction: This is synchronization.]
The words faded, leaving only silence.
Kaelen sat there for a long time, the rain tapping softly against the window. His reflection in the glass looked the same; tired, bruised, human, but behind his eyes, faint symbols flickered like embers.
He didn't know what the System was or why it had chosen him. But he knew one thing for certain: nothing about his life would ever be the same.
...
The next morning, the city was buzzing. Word of the conduit explosion had spread fast. The Guardians had sealed off the area, claiming it was a "localized current malfunction." No casualties, no damage beyond repair.
Kaelen kept his head down as he walked through the market. People were talking... about the storm, about strange light that had been seen from the upper tiers. No one mentioned him or Lira, but he could feel the weight of it all pressing on his chest.
He found her near the transit line, arguing with a supplier over parts. When she saw him, she waved him over.
"You look better," she said.
"Feel worse," he replied.
She laughed softly. "That's about right."
They walked together through the crowded street. The air smelled of rain and metal, the city alive again after the chaos.
Lira glanced at him. "You're quiet."
"Just tired."
"Liar."
He smiled faintly. "You always see through me."
"Someone has to."
They stopped at a bridge overlooking the lower conduits. The current lines below glowed faintly, steady and calm.
Lira leaned on the railing. "You ever think about what it means? The current, I mean. Everyone says it's just energy, but sometimes I think it's more than that. Like it's… aware."
Kaelen looked down at the glowing lines. "Maybe it is."
She turned to him. "You felt it too, didn't you? Down there."
He hesitated. "Yeah."
"What did it feel like?"
He searched for the words. "Like time stopped. Like everything was connected, and I could see how it all fit together."
She studied him, her expression unreadable. "That's not something a Null should be able to feel."
"I know."
They stood in silence for a while, the hum of the city filling the space between them.
Finally, Lira straightened. "Whatever happened, don't tell anyone. Not yet."
He nodded. "I wasn't planning to."
She smiled faintly. "Good. Because if the Orders find out, they'll take you apart to see how you work."
He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow.
As she walked away, Kaelen looked down at his hands again. The faint glow was gone, but he could still feel it, the pulse of the current, the rhythm of something vast and unseen.
He didn't know what the System wanted or why it had chosen him, but he could feel it waiting, patient and silent, just beneath the surface.
And for the first time in his life, Kaelen Burn wasn't afraid of what came next