The room felt too small.
Kayden paced from wall to wall, hands buried in his hair, every instinct screaming that something inside him wasn't sitting right. His reflection in the cracked mirror watched him — always a fraction too slow or too fast — as if mocking his attempts to understand himself.
Seren stood by the door, arms folded. She wasn't watching him like a subject. She was watching him like someone standing beside a bomb without knowing which wire to cut.
The hum beneath Kayden's skin pulsed again. Not pain. Not power.
A presence.
He stopped pacing, his voice low.
"Seren… who exactly is Elias Rune?"
Seren hesitated — and that alone told him enough.
"He was one of the Eye's first Conduits," she said. "Before the classifications even existed. Before resonance signatures, neural mapping, stabilization protocols."
Kayden frowned. "How long ago was that?"
"Thirteen years." She exhaled. "He survived a breach no one thought was survivable. At first, he seemed stable — calm, composed. Brighter than any of us. Until he wasn't."
Kayden swallowed. "What happened?"
Seren stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"He didn't just hear the veil's whispers like other Conduits. He started… answering them."
A chill crawled up Kayden's spine.
"You mean he went crazy."
"No," she said softly. "I mean he made sense of things no human was meant to understand."
Kayden sank into the chair, rubbing his face. "And you think he can help me?"
"He's the only one who might know why the veil reacted to you like that."
Kayden's voice cracked on instinct. "Why me? I didn't ask for this — I'm not anything special."
Seren crouched beside him, looking him in the eye.
"You're alive. After what happened in that chamber, after what you did in the café… Kayden, that alone makes you the rarest thing in this building."
He looked away, jaw tense. "I don't feel rare."
"You wouldn't," she said. "Those who survive resonance never feel special. They feel haunted."
The way she said it told him she wasn't speaking theoretically.
Before he could ask, an alarm echoed through the hallway — a low, resonant tone that vibrated through the walls like a heartbeat trying to break out of concrete.
Seren's expression sharpened instantly. "That's the lower sector alarm."
Kayden stood. "What's in the lower sector?"
She stepped toward the door, swiping her badge. The lock hissed open.
"Rune."
Down Below
The elevator descended farther than Kayden expected — a full minute of humming machinery and the faint metallic pulse of the building's deeper systems. Seren stood rigid beside him, one hand resting subconsciously near the concealed device strapped to her thigh.
Kayden broke the silence. "Why keep him down here?"
"Because he likes it," Seren said. "And because this is the only place where reflections can't form naturally."
"That doesn't sound reassuring."
"It shouldn't."
The elevator chimed softly and opened onto a long corridor lined with matte-black walls. The air was colder here, as if the temperature itself was afraid.
Two guards stepped forward. Their eyes locked instantly on Kayden.
One leaned toward Seren. "Director Hale approved this?"
"He did," Seren replied, voice steady.
The guard glanced at Kayden again — not suspicious, not aggressive… but cautious. Like Kayden was a creature that might react unpredictably to sound or movement.
They stepped aside.
Kayden walked with Seren down the long, silent hallway until they reached a reinforced door with a circular viewport made of anti-reflective composite.
Seren touched the intercom panel and spoke calmly.
"Elias. It's Seren."
A beat of silence.
Then a voice — soft, melodic, eerily familiar — drifted through the speaker.
"Seren Vale," it said. "Is it my birthday?"
Kayden's skin prickled. There was humor in that voice. Warmth.
But beneath it… something else.
Seren didn't react. "We need to ask you something."
"Ask me anything," Elias said cheerfully. "The walls get bored of me."
Seren gestured for the guards. They unlocked the door, each movement precise, ritualistic — as though any misstep might invite something in.
The door slid open.
Kayden inhaled sharply.
The Collector
The chamber was dimly lit, circular, and entirely matte — no glass, no metal, nothing that could form a reflection. The floor was chalk-white against the black walls, like a room drawn from a dream.
At the center sat a man on the floor, cross-legged, facing away from the door.
He looked… ordinary.
Dark hair tied loosely.
Simple clothes.
Calm posture.
But Kayden instantly felt it — a sensation like standing too close to a speaker turned to silent maximum volume.
A pressure without sound.
A presence without weight.
Elias Rune turned his head slowly, smiling as if greeting an old friend.
And Kayden froze.
The man's eyes were not glowing.
Not inhuman.
Not monstrous.
They were understanding.
Too understanding.
Like he recognized Kayden deeply — down to a layer of identity Kayden didn't know he had.
Seren stepped forward. "Elias, this is Kayden Hart."
Elias stood gracefully. "Ah. The one who shook the chamber."
Kayden felt his pulse spike. "I didn't mean to—"
Elias lifted a hand. "Don't apologize. The veil doesn't speak without reason."
Seren stepped slightly in front of Kayden. Protective. "We brought him because the veil reacted to him. Harder than anything I've seen."
Elias approached Kayden calmly, hands clasped behind his back.
When he stopped just two feet away, Kayden felt the air tighten — not deadly, not hostile… just overwhelmingly aware.
"Tell me," Elias said softly, "when you touched the static… did it feel familiar?"
Kayden swallowed. "I don't know. Maybe. Everything felt — wrong. Too real."
Elias's smile widened.
"Good," he whispered. "That means the veil remembers you."
Kayden's breath hitched. "Remembers me? Why would it—"
Elias leaned closer.
Close enough that Kayden saw faint static twitching at the edges of his pupils — like distant lightning caught behind glass.
"Because," Elias said, voice impossibly gentle,
"you've been there before."
Kayden's knees almost faltered.
Seren's voice snapped. "Elias, stop."
But Elias didn't stop.
He whispered one more sentence — soft as a dying signal.
"And it wants you back."
The lights flickered.
The hum rose.
The cracked mirror in Kayden's room — miles above — shattered on its own.
Kayden staggered backward, clutching his head as a memory surged — not visual, not verbal, but felt. A cold hall. A hand through glass. A whisper calling his name before he ever existed.
He fell against the wall.
Seren grabbed him. "Kayden— stay with me!"
Elias stood perfectly still, smiling faintly, as if watching a flower bloom in winter.
"The pulse has begun," Elias said quietly. "The veil isn't opening."
His eyes glowed with impossible calm.
"It's waking."
---