Chapter 42 She lives
Nothing closed behind us like a tired eyelid.
There was no impact, no wind, no fall. Only the feeling that the world had forgotten to continue existing.
The Dead Moon Rift wasn't a place, it was an interval. A space between two thoughts of the universe, where everything that had been erased still breathed without permission to return.
The ground beneath our feet felt like milky glass, but it reflected things that weren't there: burnt forests, fleeing packs of wolves, children with golden eyes being pulled away from their mothers. Each step made the images rearrange themselves, like memories trying to save themselves from oblivion.
Conrad squeezed my hand.
“This… isn't happening now, is it?” he asked softly.
“It's always happening,” I replied. “Only here, time has nowhere to hide.”
Ahead of us, a fracture pierced the space like an open scar, pulsing in shades of gray and gold. A silent, heavy energy emanated from her, making my bones vibrate.
The Rift.
I knew without anyone needing to tell me.
The symbol on my chest burned differently, not as a warning, but as longing. And then I heard.
Not voices. Names.
Hundreds of them, whispered within my mind, as if each erased hybrid had left an echo clinging to my existence. I saw shadows forming around the fracture, incomplete figures, fragments of people who no longer belonged anywhere.
“Bearer of the Shattered Link,” the same presence echoed. “You crossed through oblivion.”
Conrad instinctively stepped in front of me, but I pulled him back.
“They don’t want you,” I murmured. “They want what’s left of me.”
The fracture widened, revealing scenes from the past: sorcerers raising forbidden symbols, ancient kings ordering erasures, hybrids being used as keys to close doors that should never have been opened.
I felt a knot forming in my chest.
“It wasn’t a massacre,” I whispered. “It was a ritual.”
The symbol reacted, projecting around us the golden path I had seen in the whirlpool, now complete, linking each forgotten fragment to my presence.
“You are the last anchor,” the voice declared. “If the Link is restored, the world will remember what it tried to destroy.”
I swallowed hard.
“What if I don’t want to carry this alone?”
For a moment, the Rift hesitated.
Conrad intertwined his fingers with mine, firm as a root.
“Then it doesn’t carry it alone,” he said. “It carries it with me.”
The scar in space began to close… but not out of obedience.
Out of choice.
The Rift didn't close completely.
It breathed.
The space around us rippled, and the images reflected on the glass floor began to move more clearly. They were no longer just scattered memories, but entire scenes, as if someone were turning the pages of a forbidden book.
I saw an ancient stone room, much older than any castle I knew. Hybrids lined up in circles, hands clasped, symbols burning beneath each of their skin. In the center, an empty throne.
“That was the heart of the Link,” I murmured without realizing I was speaking aloud.
Conrad looked at me in profile. “You've been here before.”
“Not me,” I corrected, feeling the words spring from a place that wasn't just mine. “But what remained of me.”
The Rift pulsed once more, projecting the next scene: kings from forgotten eras, their eyes cold, watching the ritual break. Their fear was almost palpable.
They weren't trying to save us.
They were trying to protect themselves.
“The Link wasn't shattered by fault,” I continued, my voice faltering. “It was broken on purpose. They realized hybrids could cross planes… and decided to erase us before anyone else learned to do the same.”
A violent pressure filled the air. The shadows around the fracture began to move, taking on more defined outlines. They weren't Void Hunters.
They were remnants of hybrids.
Fragments of souls that never managed to return.
Conrad moved closer to me, as if he wanted to merge me with his own body.
“Maya, tell me what to do.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, searching for the symbol beneath my skin, feeling the heat expand.
“Don't fight,” I replied. “Remember.”
I raised my hand toward the Rift. The golden path detached itself from my chest and stretched to the fracture, touching every shadow around it.
The fragments began to react, gaining form, light, identity.
Names returned.
Not in sound, but in presence.
“They don’t want revenge,” I whispered. “They want continuity.”
The Rift trembled, as if being rewritten from the inside out.
But then I felt something different.
A tug.
Not coming from it.
Coming from me.
My whole body burned, and for a second I was certain that if I took one more step, I wouldn’t just be Maya again.
Conrad held my face tightly.
“Look at me,” he asked, his voice firm despite the chaos around us. “It doesn’t matter what you are here. I met you out there. And that’s where we’re going back together.”
The shadows hesitated. The Rift groaned, like a wounded animal.
And the world, once again, began to push us out.
The impact wasn't physical.
It was as if the world had swallowed its own breath.
I opened my eyes, feeling the weight of the castle around me again—the smell of ancient stone, the distant creaking of the towers, the muffled sound of footsteps rushing down the corridor. My legs gave way, but Conrad was already with me, his arms firm, preventing me from falling.
“Breathe, Maya,” he whispered close to my ear.
I obeyed, even with my chest burning as if I had passed through fire and ice at the same time.
The map room was different.
Not visibly… but I knew. The scrolls on the walls now glowed almost imperceptibly, as if something behind them had awakened. Kael was kneeling near the circular table, his eyes closed, one hand pressing against his chest.
“You touched what was buried in time,” he murmured, still not looking at me. “And now it touches back.”
“Kael?” I called, my voice weak.
He slowly raised his head. His eyes were moist, not from pain, but from overwhelming emotion—as if he had seen too much at once.
“For years I only saw feelings,” he said. “Now I’ve seen memories that aren’t mine. Screams trapped between worlds. Hybrids trying to exist in silence.”
Conrad closed the hall door, as if that gesture could contain everything that was escaping.
“So it’s real,” he said. “The Dead Moon Rift is awakening.”
Kael nodded.
“It never slept. It only waited for someone who still carried the ancient language within their flesh.”
All eyes fell on me.
I swallowed hard.
“I didn’t open the Rift,” I said with difficulty. “I answered it.” The symbol beneath my skin pulsed once, slower now, like a weary heart.
“And that means…” Conrad began.
“That they know where I am,” I finished.
The silence that followed was more terrifying than any attack.
Outside, a bell rang in the east tower.
Then another.
And another.
Kael jumped to his feet.
“This isn’t a regular alert,” he said. “It’s a border summons.”