Part 2-Chapter 17

Part 2-Chapter 17
~KAISHA~

The first scream didn’t come from inside the Manor, it came from the city. I felt it before I heard it...a sharp, invasive spike that tore through the wards like they weren’t barriers at all, but membranes stretched too thin. The sensation hit low in my chest and detonated outward, stealing my breath mid-inhale. I gasped, fingers digging into the cold stone wall as my vision blurred at the edges.

Redakai reacted instantly. “Kaisha,” he said sharply, stepping into my space as his hand caught my elbow, steady and unyielding.

“I felt that,” I managed, forcing air back into my lungs as the pressure rippled again, deeper this time, like an aftershock.

“So did the wards,” he replied, his gaze flicking upward as the Manor shuddered around us, stone groaning faintly as sigils along the ceiling flared and recalibrated.

A second scream followed. Closer. Not loud enough to be heard through stone or distance, but clear enough in the magic that my pulse stuttered. It slid along my nerves like a blade drawn slowly across bone.

“That’s not echo,” I said, pushing Redakai’s hand away as I straightened, dread pooling low and heavy in my stomach. “That’s happening now.”

Redakai nodded once, already moving. “East sector,” he said, voice clipped and controlled. “Near the old river corridor.”

I followed without arguing, boots pounding against stone as the Manor snapped fully awake around us. Alarms began to murmur, not sirens, not chaos, but sigils igniting along the walls in sharp lines of light. Guards shifted into motion, weapons drawn, voices low and disciplined as they took positions they’d clearly rehearsed too many times.

This wasn’t a drill.

Dirk appeared at the junction ahead, one hand glowing faintly as he stabilized a ward that flickered like a failing pulse. Sweat beaded at his temple despite the cool air. “We’ve got a breach,” he announced, jaw tight as his eyes locked on Redakai’s.

“What kind?” Redakai demanded, slowing just enough to listen.

Dirk grimaced. “Not physical,” he said, flexing his fingers as the ward steadied. “Cognitive. Someone remembered too much, too fast.”

My stomach dropped. “A civilian?” I asked, my voice catching despite my attempt to keep it steady.

“Yes,” Dirk confirmed, flicking his wrist as a projection flared into the air between us. A grainy image coalesced, an ordinary man, mid-thirties, clutching his head as bystanders recoiled around him. “No known magical lineage. No shielding. No idea what’s happening to him.”

“And now?” I pressed, stepping closer before I could stop myself. Redakai’s hand tightened reflexively on my arm.

“And now,” Dirk said grimly, “he’s screaming about a battlefield that hasn’t existed in a thousand years. Names that shouldn’t exist. Orders shouted in a language no one’s spoken in centuries.” His mouth thinned. “And he’s broadcasting it.”

As if summoned by his words, the wards pulsed violently, their hum spiking into a shrill warning that scraped along my nerves and made my vision swim.

“I can stop it,” I said before I could think better of it.

Redakai turned on me immediately. “No,” he snapped, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to meet his eyes. “You do not go near that.”

“I didn’t say I’d go,” I argued, shaking my head as heat flared under my skin, restless and insistent. “But I can feel him. He’s tethered to me.”

“That is exactly why you are not leaving this building,” Redakai countered, his voice dropping into something low and dangerous.

Dirk hesitated, then spoke carefully. “She’s not wrong,” he said, shifting his weight. “The resonance is…directional.”

Redakai shot him a look sharp enough to cut stone. “Finish that sentence very carefully.”

Dirk lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m saying the memory spike is following her signature,” he said evenly. “Whether she’s present or not.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. “So this is happening because I exist.”

Redakai’s jaw flexed. “This is happening because someone answered something they should not have,” he said flatly.

Another scream ripped through the wards, closer still. The sound slammed into me like a physical blow, and I staggered, clutching my ribs as the pressure collapsed inward.

“I can’t just stand here,” I said, my voice shaking as I fought to stay upright. “If this keeps spreading—”

Redakai pulled me against him without hesitation, one arm braced solidly around my back, anchoring me. “You stand here,” he said fiercely, breath warm against my temple, “because if you do not, you become the epicenter.”

I pressed my forehead briefly to his chest, breathing through the spike as the wards strained around us, their hum rising and falling like a labored breath.

Syrus appeared at the far end of the corridor, blade already drawn, eyes bright and focused. “Olympus scouts just crossed the outer perimeter,” he reported. “They are moving fast.”

“Of course they are,” I muttered, straightening as I wiped sweat from my palms.

Redakai released me reluctantly, his hands lingering just long enough to be sure I was steady. “Positions,” he ordered, his voice carrying authority that snapped everyone into motion.

Dirk nodded. “I’ll dampen the civilian’s resonance as much as I can,” he said, already turning away. “But if it keeps escalating—”

“I know,” Redakai cut in.

I watched Dirk disappear down the hall, my chest aching with a guilt I didn’t know how to place, or how to outrun.

“This is just the beginning,” I said quietly, staring at the vibrating stone beneath my boots.

Redakai stepped back into my line of sight. “Yes,” he agreed, his expression hardening. “Which is why you are going to learn how to withstand it.”

I looked up sharply. “You said I wasn’t ready.”

“I said you were not going out there,” he corrected. “Those are not the same thing.”

Something inside me steadied at that. Not calm. Not relief. Purpose.

“Then start teaching me,” I said, squaring my shoulders as another scream echoed through the wards. “Because I’m done being the fault line everyone tiptoes around.”

Redakai held my gaze for a long moment, weighing something older than strategy, then nodded once. “Then we begin now,” he said.

The Manor groaned as if in answer, and somewhere beyond its walls, the city took another step closer to remembering.