Lyra's POV
Nyx explodes from my mother's shadow like darkness given form.
The ritual chamber floods with shadow-magic. Guards scream. Domitius stumbles backward. My mother or whatever was pretending to be my mother collapses like a puppet with cut strings.
The programming controlling my body shatters.
I drop the blade, gasping, clutching my head. What
That wasn't your real mother, Nyx says, her voice echoing through the chamber. Just a construct. A fake designed to break your spirit.
More shadows pour from the corners. Resistance fighters emerge mortals and minor gods, all armed, all ready to fight.
Take Domitius alive! Nyx commands. We need him for questioning!
Chaos erupts. Guards versus resistance. Magic versus weapons. The chamber becomes a battlefield.
Through it all, Kairos remains kneeling in the ritual circle, chains glowing.
I stumble toward him. Are you
I'm fine, he says calmly. Though these chains are quite uncomfortable.
How are you so calm?
Because I've seen this moment a thousand times across different timelines. He smiles slightly. In most of them, you save me. In a few, you kill me. I'm hoping this is one of the better timelines.
Despite everything, I almost laugh. You're insane.
I'm a god. It comes with the territory.
A guard rushes at us. Nyx appears from nowhere, her shadow-blade cutting him down before he reaches us.
We don't have much time, she says urgently. More Council forces are coming. We need to break those chains and get out of here.
I can't break them, I say. I don't have that kind of power.
Actually, Kairos says quietly, you do. You just don't know it yet.
I stare at him. What?
Touch the chains, he instructs. Trust me.
That's insane! They're designed to hold gods!
And you're designed to be more than mortal. His star-filled eyes lock onto mine. Trust me, Lyra. Please.
Against all logic, I reach out.
The moment my fingers touch the chains, they shatter.
All of them. Like they were made of glass.
Kairos stands, his full power flooding back. The air around him ripples with temporal energy. He looks like a god now ancient, powerful, terrifying.
But when he looks at me, his expression softens.
Thank you, he says.
An explosion rocks the chamber. Part of the ceiling collapses. Domitius is fighting his way toward an exit, protected by a dozen guards.
Stop him! Nyx shouts.
But Domitius throws something a small glowing orb. It hits the floor and explodes in blinding light.
When my vision clears, he's gone. Escaped.
Damn it! Nyx kicks a broken stone. We needed him!
We have something better, Kairos says. He waves his hand, and time itself seems to bend. The fake mother-construct rises from the floor, animated by his magic. This thing holds traces of Council magic. We can use it to track them.
Nyx nods. Good. Then let's
Alarms blare throughout the building. Loud, urgent, terrifying.
Lockdown protocol, one of the resistance fighters says grimly. They're sealing the entire tower. No one gets in or out.
Can you teleport us? I ask Kairos.
Not all of us. And not through Council wards. He looks at Nyx. Can shadows work?
Maybe a few people. Not this many. Nyx curses. We're trapped.
My mind races. Trapped in a tower with Council forces closing in. No escape. No
Wait.
Solon, I say urgently. They took Solon to the dungeons. We can't leave without him.
We might have to, Nyx says gently. If we don't escape now
No! I step toward her. He saved me. Helped me. I won't abandon him!
Kairos studies me. The dungeons are three levels down. Heavily guarded. We'd have to fight through dozens of soldiers to reach him.
Then we fight.
Lyra
He's my friend! My voice breaks. The only real friend I've ever had! I won't leave him to die!
Silence falls. The resistance fighters exchange glances.
Then Nyx smiles. Well. I suppose we're rescuing a court scribe. She looks at her fighters. You heard her. Change of plans. We go down, not up.
That's suicide, one fighter protests.
Probably, Nyx agrees cheerfully. But it's also the right thing to do. Anyone who disagrees can wait here.
No one moves. They're all staying.
Something warm blooms in my chest. These people strangers mostly are risking their lives for Solon. For me.
Thank you, I whisper.
Thank us if we survive, Nyx says. Now move!
We run through burning hallways. Fight past guards. Descend stairs into darkness.
The dungeons are worse than I imagined. Cold stone. Screaming prisoners. The smell of blood and fear.
Which cell? Kairos asks.
I close my eyes, listening. Through all the noise, I hear one familiar voice. Singing. Actually singing.
Solon's voice, cheerful despite everything: Oh they locked me in a dungeon dark and deep, but I've got secrets that will make the Council weep...
This way!
We find his cell at the end of a long corridor. He's behind a door covered in magical locks.
Took you long enough! Solon calls when he sees us. I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me!
Never, I say.
Kairos waves his hand. Time reverses around the locks. They click open one by one.
Solon stumbles out, bruised but grinning. So what's the plan? Daring escape? Last stand? Dramatic sacrifice?
Still working on that, Nyx admits.
That's when the floor beneath us explodes.
We fall all of us down, down, down into darkness.
I hit water. Cold, black water that shouldn't exist this deep underground.
I surface, gasping. Around me, the others are doing the same.
Where are we? I choke out.
Kairos's eyes glow, illuminating the space.
We're in a massive chamber beneath the dungeons. Ancient. Covered in symbols I don't recognize.
And in the center, sitting on a throne made of bones
Fate.
The real Fate. Alive. Waiting.
Hello, Lyra, she says with a sad smile. I've been expecting you.
She stands, and I see she's not alone.
Behind her throne stand figures in the shadows. Dozens of them.
Welcome, Fate continues, to the real trial. The one that will decide whether the universe lives
She gestures to the figures behind her, and they step into the light.
My blood freezes.
They're all me.
Dozens of girls who look exactly like me. Different ages. Different clothes. But the same face. The same curse.
or dies, Fate finishes. Because you see, Lyra, you're not the first weapon the Council created.
You're just the only one who survived.