"Captain," Jask acknowledged Cypher with a curt nod. They were obviously going to have words later in private.
"Where's Tor? And Knives? Omri?" I asked, looking around for the rest of our crew.
"Right here," Knives called, appearing from behind another wreck with Tor beside her. Omri trailed behind them. Click was perched on Omri's shoulder, and he scrambled down and practically threw himself at me. I caught my little friend, tears of staggering relief springing to my eyes as I cuddled him close.
"How did you find us?" Vic asked, as he looked between Cypher and me.
"The wayfinder." Cypher held up the device. The crystal inside was now pulsing so intensely it cast flickering light across all our faces. "It's been leading us to the Genesis Engine."
Vic rushed forward, his eyes wide as he stared at the pulsing wayfinder. "The Engine is real," he breathed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I knew it. The codex wasn't lying." He fumbled in his pack and pulled out several pages of notes, covered in his cramped handwriting. We were lucky he never removed his satchel, even while on the ship, because the rest of us only had the clothes on our back and the weapons we'd beenholding. He muttered to himself about theories and hypotheses that I couldn't hope to understand.
"How far?" Jask asked, looking at Cypher's wayfinder.
"Another few hours of walking, maybe less."
"We should rest first," Kora said, eyeing me with concern. "Everyone looks dead on their feet."
I nodded gratefully. My limbs felt like lead. I wouldn't be any use to anyone like this, much less prepared to harness the power of the engine.
"There's a relatively intact wing ship over there," Zoya pointed to a medium-sized vessel whose hull remained mostly unbroken. "We could set up camp inside, get some sleep before we make the final push."
"Good idea," Cypher agreed. "We'll take watches in pairs. First Dark isn't safe, even with all of us together."
We made our way to the ship, clearing enough space in what had once been the main cabin for everyone to get as comfortable as they could. The echos continued to watch us, pooling in corners and sliding along walls, but they kept their distance.
"Do you think the engine will really be able to restore Nytheris?" I asked Vic quietly as we helped Omri set up a small cooking apparatus with only what was available on the ancient ship, plus the power from his emerald anchor crystal hanging around his neck.
"If the codex is accurate, yes," Vic whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he pulled the book from his satchel. "It's not just a terraforming tool. It's the original creative force that shaped the first realms. The codex says it exists in a state of pure potential, that it can be molded by strong enough will to?—"
A deafening sound cut through whatever he was about to say. Blinding white light flooded through the broken windows of the ship, so bright it felt like daggers in my eyes.
"DOWN!" Cypher shouted.
Before I could react, he tackled me to the floor, covering my body with his own. The light intensified, burning through closed eyelids, accompanied by a high-pitched whine that made my ears throb.
"What's happening?" Kora screamed over the noise.
I cracked my eyes open beneath Cypher's protective weight, squinting against the glare. Through a shattered viewport, I could make out a massive tear in the First Dark. It wasn't like any portal I'd ever seen, as if someone had ripped through reality with brute force rather than skill.
"Someone's coming through!" Jask yelled.
The light began to dim as the portal stabilized. Through the tear, massive shapes emerged—five Assembly barges, their heavy, brass and iron hulls groaning as they slipped through the portal.
CYPHER
From the momentI drew breath, I carried a destiny no child should bear. Then came the years of failure, of watching hope wither like neglected crops. Our people, once proud Nytherians, drifted between realms like ash after a fire, stripped of leadership, of magic, of identity. The elders who remembered our homeland's glory faded one by one until only their stories remained, pale shadows of truth. The children knew nothing but the aftermath—the screams, the hunger, the desperate flight.
I was eight when I last saw my sister, her fingers slipping from mine as the portal tore us apart. "I'll find you," I'd promised. Even now, I could hear my father's final command cutting through the chaos. "The burden is yours now, son. Carry it until your dying breath."
I couldn't push down the memories that flooded back as I watched the Assembly barges breach the First Dark. The day Nytheris collapsed played in my mind with perfect clarity. Thescreaming, the ground splintering beneath our feet, the very air crackling with corruption.
Father had thrust me toward the skiffs, his crown askew, his face streaked with the blood of the royal guards who'd fallen defending the evacuation point. "Take him," he'd ordered my mother, who stood frozen, torn between her husband and her son. "He must survive."
I remembered fighting, kicking against the hands that dragged me onto the skiff. "No! Father! Runa!" I screamed until my throat was raw.
My sister had stood beside our father, her copper eyes—so like our mother's, so like mine—meeting mine across the growing chasm. She was fifteen to my eight, the crown princess, the rightful heir. It should have been her on that skiff, not me. I was just the spare, the second child, the one they'd never expected to rule.
"The king goes first!" I'd shouted, reciting the evacuation protocols we'd been taught since we could walk. "The line must be preserved!"