The world did not rebound.
It survived the second attempt but like a wounded animal staggering away from a predator.
Aurelianth lay on the cold stone summit, lungs heaving, skin trembling with faint aftershocks of the Pulse's touch. Lioren knelt beside him, both arms wrapped around him as if daring the sky to try again.
The matriarch spoke in a voice that vibrated the stones beneath them:
"The Pulse has withdrawn.
The Second Attempt…is complete."
Aurelianth swallowed a groan.
"Complete?" he rasped. "It nearly tore me out of this world."
Lioren gripped his hand tighter.
"You threw it back. You won this time."
He wished that were true.Because the Pulse's final message haunted him:
"Third.
The third attemptwill be mine."
That whisper had carved itself behind his ribs like a seed of dread.
The Countdown Begins
The elders slowly stood, raising flickering lanterns to inspect the damage.
Moonlight pooled weakly on the summit.
Shattered lantern-glass crunched underfoot.
Runes burned out.
The cliff's protective seals had melted to dim scars.
Elder Vesen approached with a grave face.
"You need rest. We must bring you down to the village."
Aurelianth pushed himself upright despite the world tilting.
"No… I need to know when it will return."
Lioren looked horrified. "Aurelianth..."
He held her arm.
His fingers were cold.
Too cold.
"When?" he demanded again, voice trembling from exhaustion.
The matriarch drew in a long breath.
"The Pulse follows a law older than this continent," she said. "A rule etched into the fractures of the world."
She raised her lantern, letting the faint moonlight pass through the cracked glass.
"Three attempts for what it claims.
Three nights between each attempt."
Aurelianth's heart stuttered.
"So I have… three nights?"
"Yes," Elder Therrin said, voice harsh. "Three nights of quiet. And then the world will quake again."
Aurelianth's veins prickled unpleasantly.
His runes twitched beneath his skin.
Lioren stared at him with growing fear.
"Three nights until it comes back… for you."
The matriarch nodded sharply.
"And on the third attempt, it always arrives in full form. No shadows. No echoes. No breaches."
Her voice deepened.
"It arrives with its entire hunger."
Aurelianth's stomach twisted.
He whispered, voice raw:
"Does… does anyone ever survive the third attempt?"
Silence fell like a dropped blade.
Elders looked away.
Hunters clenched their jaws.
Lioren's hand tightened painfully around his own.
The matriarch spoke at last:
"Not in recorded history."
A cold wave rolled through Aurelianth.
Not fear.
Something older.
Something like a memory of drowning.
Lioren knelt and faced him directly.
"You're not a recorded history," she whispered fiercely. "You're not the first Aurelianth. You're you."
Her thumb brushed his cheek.
"You're Deviation. You're the chance the world didn't expect."
He swallowed hard.
He wanted to believe her.
The Walk Back Down
The village watched them descend the cliff staircase.
Some stared at Aurelianth with awe.
Some with terror.
Some with trembling hope.
He felt every one of their eyes on him.
Children peered out from behind skirts and doorways, looking at him as if he were glowing. Maybe he was... his runes flickered faintly, refusing to sleep.
Lioren noticed.
She leaned close and whispered:
"You're still shining."
"I'm trying to shut it down."
"Don't." She shook her head. "Let them see it. Tonight you fought the Pulse and lived."
Aurelianth forced a small, painful smile.
"I didn't feel alive while it was happening."
She squeezed his hand.
"That's why you're still here."
They reached his chamber, the doorframe still cracked from the last intrusion.The matriarch halted outside.
"Aurelianth," she said quietly. "Rest. Tonight is recovery. Tomorrow… training."
"What kind?" he asked weakly.
"The kind that teaches you how to stay in this world," she said."And how to stop being pulled into its hunger."
Night Without Peace
Lioren didn't leave his side.
Not even after the matriarch commanded her to sleep.Not even after the other lanterns in the corridor dimmed.
She sat cross-legged beside his bed, polishing her new lantern...a stronger one forged from broken moon-crystal fragments she salvaged after the Pulse's breach.
"You should sleep," Aurelianth whispered.
"So should you."
"I'm afraid to."
She looked up at him.
His mismatched eyes glimmered faintly, silver veins flickering beneath the skin like restless lightning.
"I'm afraid that if I close my eyes," he whispered, "I'll open them in the tear."
Lioren set her lantern down and climbed onto the bed beside him, pressing her forehead against his.
"I won't let that happen," she said softly. "If you start fading, I'll drag you back by the veins."
He huffed a weak laugh.
"You talk like you aren't terrified."
She didn't deny it.
"I am," she said. "But fear is honest. And you deserve honesty."
Aurelianth leaned into her touch.
For one precious hour, he slept.
No Pulse.
No shadow.
No clicking.
Just warmth.
Just breath.
Just her.
The Dream That Isn't His
Then he woke.
Because he was standing in a different place.
Not in his bed.
Not in Umbralune.
Not in the world.
He stood inside a vast white plain...a blank world, no shadows, no horizon, no sound.
A place before creation.
And before him stood…the original Aurelianth.
The boy whose body he inhabited.The one the Pulse took during his third attempt.But he wasn't a ghost.
Not exactly.
He wore the same silver-veined skin.
But his eyes were hollow.
Drained.
Empty as the Tear.
Aurelianth froze.
"You're him," he whispered.
The other Aurelianth tilted his head.
A voice emerged, not from his mouth....but from the blank world itself.
"You shouldn't be here."
Aurelianth's breath hitched.
"Then where should I be?"
"On the edge."
"The… edge?"
"Between.
You are not one life.
You are not one world.
You are not one fate."
Aurelianth stepped closer.
"If you're the original… then why are you here?"
The hollow figure flickered.
"Because I was consumed.
And the consumed become echoes in the Before."
"Before what?"
The other Aurelianth lifted his hand.
And the blank world cracked....a faint line of black splitting across the white.
A Tear.
Smaller.
But identical.
Aurelianth's blood ran cold.
"The Pulse," he whispered. "It got you through this place."
"Through the Before.
Through the space where stories form.
Where names decide what they are allowed to be."
Aurelianth felt sick.
"Am I next?"
The hollow figure didn't blink.
"Unless you change your ending."
"My… ending?"
"Refuse the third attempt.
Break its law."
Aurelianth clenched his fists.
"But the Pulse said...."
"The Pulse lies."
The Tear in the dream-world widened.
The hollow Aurelianth stepped into it.
"Three nights."
"Then write a new rule."
"Or become me."
He vanished.
The Tear swallowed all light..then the world snapped shut.
Waking to the Countdown
Aurelianth jolted awake, gasping.
Lioren grabbed his face, terrified.
"Aurelianth! Aurelianth, look at me....what happened?"
He swallowed hard.
"I saw him," he whispered.
"Who?"
"The original me. The one the Pulse took."
Her breath stopped.
"What did he say?"
Aurelianth stared at the ceiling.
"He told me the Pulse lied."
She frowned. "About what?"
Aurelianth's veins glowed faintly...fear and determination mixing like fire under skin.
"He said…I don't have to wait for the third attempt."
Lioren's lantern flickered wildly.
"And then he said…"
Aurelianth whispered the last words, voice shaking:
"Write a new rule."