Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty Eight
The transport’s hum was softer this time, almost muffled, as if the weight of the Red Verge clung to it even after they’d left. Astrid sat near the window, her head leaning against the cool metal. The familiar sights of the Nexus’s glowing towers growing closer should have been comforting. Instead, they felt distant, unreal.
Her hands still trembled slightly from the strain of stabilizing the fracture. She clenched them into fists, willing the shaking to stop.
“You’re quiet,” TESS said from across the cabin, their tone sharp but not unkind.
Astrid glanced at them, then at LUX, who sat motionless beside her. His glowing blue eyes stared straight ahead, but she could feel the weight of his awareness, like he was constantly calculating and recalibrating.
“I’m tired,” she said finally, her voice flat.
“You’ve done this before,” TESS replied. “Why does this time feel different?”
Astrid hesitated, her chest tightening. “Because it is different. The Verge… it didn’t feel like the Bastion. It felt... alive. Like it wasn’t just reacting to me—it was trying to fight back.”
LUX’s gaze turned toward her, his voice steady. “The fractures adapt to their environment. Their resistance grows stronger with each occurrence.”
Astrid frowned, leaning forward. “So, what? The more I fix, the harder it gets?”
“Yes,” LUX replied simply.
“Well, that’s great,” Astrid muttered, rubbing her temples. “What happens when it’s too strong for me to handle?”
“That,” TESS said, their voice quieter than usual, “is the question no one wants to ask.”
When they returned to the Nexus, Astrid half-expected someone to greet them with answers, a plan, or even a vague reassurance. Instead, the halls were eerily quiet, their glowing panels pulsing faintly as if mirroring her unease.
LUX and TESS led her to the Archive, where the projection sphere awaited. It flickered to life as they entered, displaying fragments of data from the Verge.
“Let’s skip the part where you show me a bunch of scary patterns and get to the part where we figure out what’s next,” Astrid said, crossing her arms.
TESS smirked faintly. “Someone’s impatient.”
“I’m exhausted,” Astrid shot back. “And I don’t want to do this dance anymore. What’s causing these fractures? And how do we stop them for good?”
LUX stepped closer to the sphere, his towering frame casting long shadows across the room. “The fractures are linked to the balance of chaos and order. Each disruption creates ripples, and those ripples manifest as fractures in the Nexus’s energy flows.”
“Okay,” Astrid said, trying to keep up. “But why now? The Nexus has been here for ages, right? What changed?”
TESS and LUX exchanged a glance, and Astrid’s stomach sank.
“What?” she asked, her voice sharp.
“You,” TESS said bluntly.
Astrid blinked. “Me?”
“The Core identified you as an anomaly,” LUX explained. “Your presence has introduced variables that did not exist before. While you have stabilized fractures, your very nature may also be contributing to their formation.”
Astrid stared at him, her chest tightening. “So, I’m not just the key to fixing things—I’m the reason they’re breaking in the first place?”
“No,” LUX said firmly. “You are a catalyst. Change is inevitable, but it is not inherently destructive. You are proof of that.”
“Tell that to the fractures,” Astrid muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.
The room fell silent for a moment, the hum of the Archive filling the space. Astrid paced in front of the projection sphere, her thoughts racing.
“So, what happens if I can’t keep up? If the fractures keep getting worse?”
LUX’s glowing blue eyes followed her movements. “Then the balance will fail. Chaos will spread unchecked, and the Nexus will fall.”
Astrid stopped in her tracks, staring at him. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is not simple,” LUX said, his voice calm but resolute. “But it is reality.”
TESS folded their arms, leaning against the console. “If it makes you feel better, we’re not completely out of options. Yet.”
Astrid raised an eyebrow. “What options?”
“The Core’s deeper archives contain information on ancient energy structures—fragments of knowledge from before the Nexus was built,” TESS explained. “There might be something there we can use.”
“Might?” Astrid repeated, narrowing her eyes.
“It’s better than nothing,” TESS said with a shrug.
Hours later, Astrid sat alone in her quarters, staring at the ceiling as the faint glow of the Nexus’s energy pulsed in time with her thoughts.
She couldn’t stop replaying LUX’s words in her mind. “You are a catalyst.”
Catalyst. The word carried so much weight. She’d wanted to make a difference, to matter, but this? Being the reason fractures existed in the first place? That wasn’t what she’d signed up for.
A soft chime broke her thoughts.
“Come in,” she said, expecting TESS’s usual sarcasm.
Instead, LUX stepped inside, his towering frame illuminated by the faint light of her quarters.
“You’re checking on me?” Astrid asked, sitting up.
“I sensed your unease,” LUX said, stepping closer. “You carry doubt.”
Astrid scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “Of course I do. Every time I think I’m getting a handle on this, something worse shows up. And now you’re telling me I might be the reason for all of it.”
LUX tilted his head, his glowing blue eyes steady. “You misunderstand. Your presence does not create chaos—it reveals imbalance that already exists.”
Astrid frowned, meeting his gaze. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It should,” LUX said softly. “You have the strength to confront what others cannot. And you are not alone.”
Her chest tightened at his words, a flicker of warmth cutting through her fear. “Thanks, LUX. For, you know, being you.”
LUX inclined his head. “You should rest. The path ahead will not be easy.”
Astrid gave a faint smile. “It never is.”