Subway Musea
Old Rind District
New Boston, North Atlantic Federation arc zone
Western Hemisphere,
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D.
Nine couldn't believe what he was seeing. Elias's swordsmanship was tearing apart the very predictions he was making; every future Nine glimpsed unraveled the instant Elias moved. The threads of probability twisted, collapsed, and rewove into patterns his mind couldn't process fast enough.
Elias's movements looked deceptively simple—no grand flourishes, no wasted motion. Yet the essence of his technique was something Nine's foresight couldn't comprehend. His sword wasn't guided by pattern or logic, but by instinct, discipline, and purpose refined through years of struggle.
Elias didn't rely solely on the power of his gem. Since the age of eleven, he had walked the path of the sword, training his body and mind until they became one seamless instrument of motion. He had pushed himself to the edge of human capability, forging strength not from privilege, but from conviction.
He hadn't been born exceptional. Unlike most children of the Corporate Houses, his stats—the sacred measures of a Gemcrafter's body—had been painfully average. His Carat, Clarity, Cut, Hue, and Hardness were all far below the standards expected of a bloodline gem user.
But what he lacked in innate potential, he compensated for with relentless will. It was conviction—his belief in the ideals he had built his life upon—that had carried him beyond his limits, shaping him into something even Nine's gem could not predict.
The vast body of water that Elias had parted with a single slash was gone—completely vaporized by the searing heat of his plasma blade. The air still shimmered from the residual energy, and steam curled in ghostly trails around him. That one strike had carried enough power to split steel and boil oceans.
Elias advanced through the haze, his eyes locked on Nine. As soon as the assassin stepped into his range of influence, his body reacted instinctively—his stance shifting, posture lowering, breath steadying.
That subtle change alone made the flow of Lumenis within him surge.
Nine felt it immediately. He saw the change through his gem, the threads of causality twisting into a single vision—his death.
Elias's aura flared. He funneled the energy of one of his facets into his sword, the plasma blade swelling with condensed brilliance. The heat warped the air, the corridor trembling under its resonance. With one precise swing, he invoked the technique.
Starwell Fang Slash.
A jagged wave of white energy zigzagged forward, tearing through space itself. Nine's eyes widened as the future he had seen began to unfold exactly as predicted. He couldn't think, couldn't move—his mind locked on the singular image of his death. The probability threads converged into inevitability.
And then—
A hand cut through the air.
The white energy shattered into motes of light, dissipating harmlessly before reaching its mark.
Elias halted mid-step, the shockwave dying around him. A cold, familiar pressure pressed against his chest—the presence of someone he knew too well. His grip on the sword faltered as memories surfaced, flooding his mind. From the smoke, a tall figure emerged. Black coat. Helm with a smooth, opaque visor.
Xer.
"We meet again, Elias Vasselheim," the voice said—calm, distant, unmistakable.
Elias's heart tightened. "You… What are you doing here?"
"I see you haven't forgotten me," Xer replied. "I'm glad."
"Xer—it's you," Nine gasped, relief flooding his voice. The sight of his leader dissolved the terror gripping him. The vision of his death vanished, replaced by the branching hope of survival. If only I'd looked further, he thought bitterly. I would have seen her coming.
"Let's kill this bastard," Nine said, rallying his strength. "Together, you and I can—"
"Shut up, Nine." Xer's voice was sharp enough to cut through his words. "Archie and the others have finished evacuating. The Starlight Gate is ready."
Elias moved.
In one swift motion, he lunged forward, his sword cutting a bright line through the haze. Xer responded instantly, flicking both index and middle fingers together. The air between them cracked.
The next instant, steel met invisible force—Elias's blade intercepting Xer's attack with uncanny precision, deflecting it before it could connect.
Nine stared, speechless.
"Did you see that?" Xer said evenly. "The bastard predicted my strike."
Nine's disbelief deepened. Even with his own foresight, he could rarely follow the trajectory of Xer's attacks—her movements were too layered, too deceptive. Yet Elias had countered it like it was nothing.
"There's a heat field around him," Xer said, analyzing with calm detachment. "He's diffusing his vitality outward as thermal energy—extending his sensory range through ambient temperature."
Her visor tilted slightly toward Nine. "He's reading the motion of everything around him—the air, the heat, even our energy signatures. By synchronizing it with his sword style, he predicts attacks through pure instinct. That's why your probability gem failed. You couldn't understand his rhythm, so you couldn't calculate a future that would beat him."
Nine's throat tightened. His gem pulsed dimly, the threads of causality trembling in disarray. For the first time, he understood—Elias wasn't fighting with foresight.
He was fighting with something beyond it.
"The others can go," Elias said quietly. "I just want to talk with you."
Xer tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but edged. "You're still so soft, Vasselheim. But the time for talk is long gone."
She raised her hand, and with a low hum, a wand materialized—black metallic alloy, its length engraved with glowing crimson sigils. At its crescent-shaped head rested a deep red gem, pulsing faintly like a living heart.
"Grafhel Lattice," Xer intoned.
Lines of crimson light burst from the wand, weaving into a lattice of crystalline beams that filled the chamber. The pattern crackled with unstable energy—an annihilation weave designed to disassemble anything it touched, molecule by molecule.
Elias reacted instantly. His sword blazed white-hot as he poured Lumenis into the blade and swung. The two forces collided. The lattice and the white slash met midair, detonating in a violent bloom of light. The shockwave tore through the chamber, sending shards of metal and fractured stone in every direction. When the smoke settled, the floor was scorched black—and Xer and Nine were gone.
Elias lowered his guard, the tip of his sword dimming as the plasma cooled. He waved his hand through the drifting haze, clearing the smoke enough to confirm it. Nothing. No signatures. They had escaped.
He exhaled deeply and dismissed his blade, the radiant edge collapsing into particles of light. The residual glow of his base facet faded as he released the heat field he'd maintained.
Relief hit him like gravity. The tension drained from his shoulders, and his body sagged slightly as the strain of overusing his Facets caught up to him. His breathing steadied, but the weight in his chest remained. For now, the battle was over—but the past he thought he'd buried had just walked back into his life.
****
Auralis Haven, Alpine Confederation Zone
New Geneva, European Federation Zone
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D
Nighttime in Auralis Haven was unlike any night Naia had ever seen. The sky above shimmered with ribbons of auroral light—bands of blue, gold, and violet weaving together in slow, fluid motion. The phenomenon wasn't merely decorative; Ellira had explained that the aurora reflected the living rhythm of the Lumenis Weave itself, guiding the behavior of those attuned to it. The city seemed to breathe with the lights, its pulse rising and falling with each shifting hue.
After the cold dismissal from Celestex, neither felt ready to return to the hotel Naia had booked for them. Ellira, ever the optimist, had suggested they walk the city instead.
"You came all this way," she had said. "You should at least enjoy some of your time here."
Naia hadn't protested. Maybe she needed the distraction more than she realized.
They ended up in Refraction Row again—the lively commercial heart of the Mid-Harmonic Belt. At night, it was an entirely different world. The market terraces glowed with neon hues and crystalline lanterns that floated freely through the air, casting shifting colors across the glass walkways. The veins of luminous quartz beneath their feet responded to every step, painting trails of light wherever they walked.
Crowds moved in a gentle rhythm. Luminia in flowing robes of refracted silk mingled with humans in light armor or casual gem-thread attire, exchanging goods, stories, and laughter. Street musicians played instruments that sang through resonance rather than strings, and the air smelled faintly of ozone and spiced lumen-tea.
Naia allowed herself a small smile. "It's different at night," she said, watching as a Luminian child tugged at their parent's sleeve, pointing toward a floating display of shifting gemstones. Ellira turned to her, her golden eyes glinting in the auroral light.
"At night, the Weave relaxes," she said. "It lets the city dream. It's one of the various things about the city I love." Ellira smiled as she thought of her childhood here, coming to live down here from the mothership after she had reached her teen years. She and her sister had spent their time visiting the Market area.
Naia gave a chuckle. "I can see why you like it. I feel just as relaxed as the city."
Ellira smiled, happy that Naia was here with her. They stopped by a vendor selling glowing crystal trinkets, small harmonizers that emitted soft melodies when touched. Ellira bought two—one shaped like a spiral, another like a small flame—and handed the latter to Naia.
"It reacts to your resonance," she said. "A gift."
Naia raised an eyebrow.
"Do you buy things for random people you just met?" Naia asked.
"You're not random," Ellira said, smiling wider. "We're friends, aren't we. We're working together, risking both our lives. We have to trust each other, and I trust you, Naia Vasselheim."
Naia sighed, though her expression softened as she took it.
"I don't know whether to think you're cute or naive with that way of thinking," Naia said. Her expression hardened for a moment, her prosthetic arm squeezing her fist. But then she lit up, looking Ellira straight in the eye. "But sometimes being naive can be quite cute, which is endearing in its own way."
They continued walking, the conversation light but warm. Ellira took them to visit her favorite café built inside a crystal dome that refracted moonlight into liquid patterns, and Naia found herself quietly enjoying the rhythm of her voice as they enjoyed a couple of Luminia snacks and tea. For the few hours they were there, the weight of politics and investigation seemed to fade.
Later, when they finally returned to the Harmony Suites, the hotel Naia had booked earlier, the city's glow followed them through the windows. The penthouse was elegant and serene—two adjoining rooms framed by transparent walls that offered a panoramic view of the alpine valley. The auroral sky reflected across the glass ceiling like a painting in motion.
Naia leaned against the balcony railing, her coat draped loosely around her shoulders, watching the ribbons of light curl and shift above. Behind her, Ellira stood by the doorway, still holding the small harmonizer she hadn't yet activated.
"It's strange," Naia murmured, her gaze fixed on the auroral sky. She didn't turn around. "For a city built on two worlds trying to coexist, it looks so perfect from up here. Makes you wish the rest of the world was like this place."
Ellira stood by the doorway, her silhouette framed by the soft golden light that filtered through the glass walls. Her voice came gentle, certain. "We can make it so."
Naia glanced over her shoulder, one brow slightly raised. "You really think so?"
"I know it," Ellira said quietly.
Naia gave a faint, thoughtful smile. "Even though humanity and Luminia aren't exactly compatible? Your kind are pacifists by nature. Whether that's good or bad depends on who's judging. But that nature of yours—that calm, collective harmony—is what makes your people so stable. We humans…" She trailed off, her eyes shifting back toward the city. "We're selfish. Always have been. We build things to feel powerful, not connected."
For a moment, neither spoke. The hum of the city below filled the silence, resonant and alive.
Then Ellira's voice returned, softer now—fragile at the edges. "Even so, I still choose to believe in coexistence." She hesitated, the faintest tremor in her breath. "I had a sibling. A twin."
Naia turned fully toward her then, something shifting in her expression.
Ellira's eyes were distant, luminous in the low light. "She believed in coexistence more than anyone. She fought for it—fought against everything that tried to keep us divided." Her hands tightened slightly at her sides. "And she died for it."
Silence settled again, but it was heavier this time, filled with memory and loss. Ellira rarely spoke of her sister, Xerna. The wound of her absence was something she carried quietly—a hollow place in her soul where a bond had once been constant, as natural as breathing.
"That's why I choose to believe it's possible," Ellira continued, her voice steadying, even as her eyes shimmered faintly with grief. "Because if we can share loss, if we can understand pain together, then we can learn to live together too. Maybe not today. Maybe not in our lifetime. But someday."
Naia didn't answer right away. She just watched Ellira in silence, the aurora lights painting them both in shifting hues of gold and violet. When she finally spoke, her tone was quiet—almost reverent.
"I'm sorry about your sister," Naia said.
Ellira nodded slowly. "Thanks."
Their eyes met across the soft glow of the room—two women from opposite sides of the same fragile peace, both caught somewhere between duty and understanding. For a moment, neither spoke. The aurora lights shifted again, painting their faces in gold and violet.
Finally, Naia looked away. "Get some rest," she said. "Tomorrow, we start digging where Celestex doesn't want us to."
Ellira nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Goodnight, Naia."
"Goodnight, Ellira."
As the Luminian envoy disappeared into her suite, Naia stayed on the balcony a little longer, the soft hum of her gifted harmonizer flickering faintly in her palm—a quiet rhythm echoing the heartbeat of a city that was very much alive.
****
"You want to break in," Ellira said, lowering her voice. They were seated in the hotel's continental restaurant, a sleek dining hall overlooking the glowing skyline of Auralis Haven. Their table was crowded with dishes—fresh bread, layered pastries, buttered toast, coffee, and fragrant tea. It was far too much for two people, yet most of it was vanishing before Naia's eyes.
Luminian metabolism was vastly stronger than that of humans; their bodies burned energy as fast as the Weave could replenish it. Ellira, delicate as she looked, was eating with quiet intensity—methodical, elegant, but unstoppable.
Naia watched her for a moment, sipping her coffee. She had slept better than she had in weeks, her mind clearer after the previous night's outing. The walk through Refraction Row had reminded her that the world still had softness in it—colors, laughter, things worth protecting. And perhaps that clarity was why, over breakfast, she finally spoke her plan aloud.
"Yes," Naia said, spreading syrup across a slice of bread. "Most corporate archives keep an off-site vault system, isolated from GSA oversight. Celestex's backup servers are stored in one of those. If we get inside, we can access any files they have on Malcolm Hynes."
Ellira paused mid-bite, setting down her fork. "You're serious," she said. "Naia, that's… that's not just risky—it's corporate espionage. We could get into real trouble if we go too far."
Naia leaned back in her chair, unconcerned, her coffee cup poised between her fingers. "It was Elias' idea," she said.
Ellira blinked, startled. "Your brother? Elias Vasselheim suggested this?" She sounded genuinely surprised. "I didn't think he'd do something like that."
Naia's lips curved faintly. "Because he looks too strict?"
Ellira gave a small laugh. "He gives me the feeling he's one of those GSA boy scouts—polished, disciplined, always by the book."
Naia shook her head slowly, a shadow of nostalgia crossing her expression. "Elias isn't like that. He's the kind of person who'll follow his ideals to the end, no matter the cost. When he believes in something, he doesn't hesitate—even if it means going against the rules… or the House."
She paused, her tone softening as she stirred her coffee absently. "When we were kids, everyone thought I'd be the one to carry the Vasselheim legacy. I was the loud one, the competitive one. But Elias… he just kept doing things his way. Quietly. Purposefully. And in the end, he surpassed every expectation."
Ellira studied her for a moment, her usual confidence dimmed by curiosity. "You sound proud of him," she said gently.
Naia's mouth tilted in a small, distant smile. "I am. But don't tell him that."
For a brief moment, they both laughed—the sound soft, natural, almost dissonant against the elegant hum of the restaurant. The world outside the glass walls glittered under the auroral sky, serene and unaware of the storm the two women were planning.
Ellira leaned forward, eyes alight with a mix of nervousness and intrigue. "So," she said quietly, "when do we start?"
Naia took another sip of her coffee, her expression composed, but her gaze sharp. "Tonight."
Ellira paused mid-chew, her golden eyes flickering with thought. The idea of a direct break-in clearly unsettled her. A scion from one corporate dynasty infiltrating the vaults of another—especially House Celestex—could ignite political disaster. Even Naia, with her family's influence, wouldn't be immune to the fallout.
"Maybe… we do things differently," Ellira said carefully.
Naia looked up from her coffee. "What do you mean?"
Ellira swallowed, setting her fork down. "Maybe instead of physically breaking in, we do it virtually."
Naia tilted her head, studying her. "Virtually?"
A small, knowing smile curved Ellira's lips. "You'll see," she said simply, then returned to her breakfast as if she hadn't just suggested a federal crime over pastries.
After breakfast, Ellira guided Naia to a private hovercar waiting outside the hotel. She didn't explain where they were going, and Naia didn't ask—though curiosity simmered beneath her calm exterior.
They left the Mid-Harmonic Belt behind, gliding toward the outer edges of the city. Naia noticed the shift immediately—the light, the air, even the hum of the Weave. The resonance density here was different: thicker, richer, more controlled. The Lumenis current flowed through the air like an invisible tide.
The hovercar followed a winding road flanked by towering bioluminescent trees. Shafts of gold and violet light filtered through their leaves, painting the glass canopy of the vehicle in shifting colors.
After several minutes, the terrain changed. The temperature rose, the crisp alpine air giving way to a warm, radiant breeze. The contrast was striking—Auralis Haven's cool, crystalline atmosphere replaced by something almost tropical. The sunlight here felt stronger, more natural, as if the sky itself was closer.
Naia looked out the window, eyes narrowing. "This area's climate—how is it so different?"
"The estate regulates its own atmosphere," Ellira replied. "Luminis field manipulation. Most can't afford it."
Naia gave a low whistle. "So whoever owns this place has money."
Ellira's only response was a small, mysterious smile. The hovercar rounded a bend, and Naia caught sight of the property ahead. Her breath stilled for a moment.
The estate stretched across the hillside like a gleaming jewel—terraced gardens of golden flora surrounding a mansion of glass, marble, and radiant alloy. Luminian architecture fused seamlessly with human engineering: archways of translucent crystal, bridges of refracted light, and towers that glowed faintly against the bright sky.
It was easily the largest residence Naia had ever seen—opulent even by Vasselheim standards. The hovercar slowed, coming to a stop at the base of the main steps. The mansion loomed ahead, serene and radiant beneath the auroral sky.
Naia turned toward Ellira, one eyebrow raised. "I'm guessing this isn't a random friend's place."
Ellira smiled faintly, her tone calm but amused. "No. It isn't."
The hovercar door opened with a soft hiss. Warm air swept through, carrying the faint scent of sun-kissed glass and ozone. Ellira stepped out first, and Naia followed, her boots meeting the marble path that shimmered faintly under the midday light.
Ahead, the mansion's main entrance unfolded like a living construct—photonic petals of glass sliding apart to reveal a tall Luminia woman framed by radiant light. Naia immediately sensed the difference in her.
She was taller than Ellira, her presence commanding yet effortless. Her hair—white with threads of gold—fell in luminous waves that refracted the surrounding light. The markings along her cheeks formed symmetrical sigils that pulsed faintly, and her skin had that perfect crystalline translucence of a high-tier Luminia. She had abandoned any trace of glamour. Everything about her was extraordinary.
But it was her eyes that caught Naia's attention—irises like mirrored prisms, reflecting dozens of tiny movements, as though she were watching the world from every possible angle at once.
"Ellira Solenne," the woman said, her voice carrying a resonant warmth that felt almost too composed. "You didn't tell me you were bringing company."
Naia caught the flicker of discomfort that passed over Ellira's face.
"Neru," she said softly, the name weighted with something complicated. "It's been a while."
Neru Veyra smiled faintly. "Has it?"
She glanced toward Naia, her gaze sharp and analytical, scanning her in a way that felt less like curiosity and more like pattern recognition.
"And you must be Agent Vasselheim," Neru said.
"Yes," Naia said.
"Come in, then. Ellira doesn't usually bring people here unless she wants something." Neru stepped aside for them.
The interior of the mansion was vast and radiant, a network of semi-transparent halls filled with flowing beams of light that shifted like slow rivers. The walls pulsed faintly, translating the light around them into harmonic whispers—a place built not to impress, but to perceive.
As they walked, Naia felt a faint tingle across her skin, as though being scanned from multiple directions at once. Ellira must have sensed her tension, because she murmured, "Don't worry. It's just Neru's perception field. She sees everything within her light-planes."
"Light-planes?" Naia repeated.
Neru's voice came from behind them. "Parallel luminic strata. I split my awareness across them—eight, sometimes nine, depending on focus. It lets me process events in simultaneous vectors. Think of it as omnidirectional perception. Movement, sound, even potential trajectories."
Naia stopped for a moment, turning to face her. "You can predict motion?"
"Predict and counter," Neru said simply. "It's useful in combat… and in hacking. Light-planes make for excellent data threads when you know how to weave them." She gestured toward a side chamber lined with holo-consoles and crystalline processors floating in suspension. "This is where I work."
Naia stepped inside and froze. The room was a hybrid between an observatory and a data sanctum. Massive displays projected streams of shifting code, light-glyphs, and topographic overlays of the city. Above it all hung a holographic map of Auralis Haven, every layer flickering in color according to energy density.
Ellira turned to Naia. "You wanted a way into Celestex's vaults? Neru can do it—virtually."
Neru gave her a sidelong look. "Still volunteering me for crimes, I see."
"Only for good reasons," Ellira said, smiling lightly. It seemed like there was a long history between the two. Naia couldn't help but be interested in this version of Ellira.
Neru sighed and folded her arms. "And what makes this a good reason?"
Naia stepped forward. "Malcolm Hynes. We think Celestex is hiding something about his research—something the UEF never saw. We need access to their off-site vaults."
For a moment, Neru said nothing. The light from the consoles played across her face, reflections shifting like water. Then she exhaled softly.
"You're asking me to breach one of the most secure corporate data networks in the Federation," Neru said.
Ellira met her gaze. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
Neru's mirrored eyes flickered, her expression softening just a little. "You always were terrible at asking for small favors."
Ellira smiled faintly. "I thought you liked that about me."
Naia's brows lifted slightly, the tension between the two not lost on her. "Ex-girlfriend, I'm guessing?"
"We tried giving that human concept a thing," Neru said smoothly. "Didn't work out that much."
Naia gave a low whistle. "Well, this just got interesting."
Neru ignored the comment and approached the central console. "I still have satellite access from my time with the Luminia Concord. It's technically decommissioned, but I never gave up the control key. With it, I can piggyback into the orbital relay that links to Celestex's outer network."
Naia crossed her arms. "How long will it take?"
"Not long," Neru said, fingers dancing through streams of light. "Breaking into a vault is like finding a pattern in a mirror—you just have to look from the right angle."
She glanced briefly at Ellira and smiled, a hint of something unspoken in her tone. "Don't worry. It'll be just like old times."
Ellira exhaled softly, half in relief, half in anticipation. "Thank you, Neru."
The older Luminia's expression softened.
"Don't thank me yet," she said. "If you're right about what Celestex is hiding… we might not like what we find."
The chamber dimmed as Neru approached the central console. The crystalline processors hovering in the air began to spin, emitting low harmonic tones that synchronized with her pulse. Light poured from the floor in geometric veins, crawling up the walls until the entire room glowed like the inside of a prism.
Naia stood beside Ellira, arms crossed, watching the transformation unfold. "This is how you hack?" she asked.
Neru smiled faintly without turning. "For Luminia, hacking isn't just code. It's communion."
She extended her right hand, and the markings on her skin ignited—thin filaments of golden light tracing up her arm. From her palm, a web of reflections began to bloom, fractal and infinite, expanding outward until her body seemed to shimmer in multiple layers.
Ellira's expression softened, a note of pride in her eyes. "She's activating her bloodline gift," she murmured. "Mirror Synapse."
Naia tilted her head. "And that does what, exactly?"
"It allows her to split her awareness across parallel light-planes," Ellira explained quietly. "Every reflection becomes another perspective—another mind. She can see and think in all directions at once. It's how she navigates the Resonant Network. Just like how your empathy abilities allow you to access the Resonant Network."
"She can access the Resonant Network too," Neru said.
"Only the part that the GSA allows me to," Naia said.
"Interesting," Neru said.
The words barely left her lips before the air shifted. The chamber's light refracted, and Naia saw faint duplicates of Neru standing at different angles—some upright, some inverted, others half-phased into the luminous walls. Each moved independently, touching glowing runes, rerouting data streams, redirecting energy.
Neru's voice came layered—one tone, a chorus of herself:
"Initiating Mirror Synapse. Integrating with the Resonant Network."
The room pulsed with energy.
From the ceiling, threads of photonic data cascaded like streams of rain. Symbols—half binary, half glyphic—spiraled through the air, forming concentric circles that rotated around her.
"The Resonant Network connects every corporate node across the city—even the off-site vaults," Ellira explained, her voice calm but tinged with awe. "Neru's mind can surf it like a waveform."
The air thickened as the light around Neru condensed, narrowing from radiant chaos into precise, pulsing streams. Her eyes opened—now mirror-bright, each iris fracturing into countless prismatic reflections that mapped the entire data lattice of Auralis Haven. In those eyes, Naia could see the ghostly shimmer of moving patterns—datastreams, relay nodes, and transmission lines threading across space like luminous veins.
"I've reached the Celestex outer firewall," Neru said, her tone steady and analytical. "Their vault system is divided across twelve frequency gates. I can't brute-force them—not without triggering a failsafe."
Naia stepped closer, her expression unreadable. "Options?"
Neru paused for a brief moment, then extended her hand toward Naia. "Give me your hand, Vasselheim. If your empathic abilities truly allow you to access the Resonant Network, I can use the strength of your emotional signal to amplify my own connection. Together, we might bypass their gates using reflection logic. Every light plane I occupy mirrors an adjacent frequency strand. With the added sensory resonance, I can align all twelve simultaneously, then—"
Her mirrored projections shimmered around the room, their voices overlapping in a chorus that vibrated like harmonized tones of glass.
"—I can fold the gates inward."
Naia gave a single, firm nod and extended her non-prosthetic arm. Neru's fingers brushed against Naia's palm, and instantly, a surge of light spread across both of them.
Filaments of Lumenis webbed from Neru's core into Naia's gem network, weaving intricate patterns of radiant circuitry that pulsed in sync with their heartbeats. The resonance field around them deepened, filling the chamber with a low hum that seemed to breathe through the walls.
Naia's gems flared to life—each socket glowing in sequence as if acknowledging Neru's presence. The sensation was overwhelming: every fiber of her being connected, tuned to the same rhythm as the Luminian's.
Neru inhaled sharply, her mirrored eyes widening. She hadn't expected it—the compatibility, the perfect symmetry of their resonance. The empathic wave from Naia's core met her Mirror Synapse on every light-plane, stabilizing and magnifying her reflections.
"I wasn't expecting…" she murmured, her voice layered in multiple tones. "This level of alignment. Your emotional frequency—it's harmonizing perfectly with my signal."
Naia smirked slightly, her voice even. "Then use it. Don't waste the connection."
Neru's mirrored forms smiled faintly in unison, then turned back toward the glowing web of data. "Understood," she said, and the chamber's light flared—twelve rings of refracted brilliance spiraling outward as she and Naia became one thread in the living code of the city.
"Vault located," she said calmly. "Outer network breach successful. I'm inside their data spine."
Ellira's brow furrowed. "You did it?"
"Partially." Neru's mirrored forms flickered. "They're running double-encryption protocols—one photonic, one gem-encoded. Clever. It means someone at Celestex didn't trust their own system."
Naia's expression hardened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning there's a hidden layer—one not tied to their corporate servers. Whatever Malcolm worked on, it wasn't just for Celestex. Someone else embedded a ghost circuit into their architecture."
The temperature in the room dropped as the lights flickered. One of Neru's reflections shuddered and dissolved into static.
"Someone knows we're here," she said softly.
"Can you trace it?" Naia asked.
Neru's real form opened her eyes, which now glowed with a deep indigo light. "No need," she said. "They're already tracing us."
Ellira's pulse quickened. "You mean they—"
Before she could finish, one of the ceiling panels flared red. A pulse of resonant energy rippled through the mansion's defense grid.
"Celestex just activated counter-intrusion," Neru said. "They know someone accessed the vault. And they're triangulating the signal—here."
Naia drew a slow breath, steadying herself. "Can you retrieve any information about Malcolm?"
Neru's mirrored selves shimmered, collapsing back into her as she severed the connection between her, Naia, and the Resonant network. The chamber dimmed, the glow fading to a soft silver.
"I already did," she said, her voice strained but steady. "Enough to know what Malcolm was working on… and why he was killed."