Chapter 23: Fractured Bonds

The escape from the Nexus Core was chaos, each step more frantic than the last. The cavern around us groaned like a wounded beast, its crystalline walls cracking and splintering as crimson energy erupted in violent bursts. Mira clutched me tightly to her chest, her breaths sharp and uneven as she followed Lucien's lead. Charlotte trailed behind, her grip on her sword unsteady but determined, her movements slower than usual from exhaustion.

The faint crack running down my arm pulsed faintly in rhythm with the collapsing Core, sending waves of heat through my small frame. I squirmed against Mira, too weak to cry but unable to stay still. My body ached, a feverish burn spreading through my limbs. Her grip on me tightened, her fingers trembling as she whispered, "Stay with me, baby. Stay with me. Please."

The passage began to narrow, debris falling around us as the crimson glow dimmed into a sickly, flickering light. Lucien swung his sword in quick, practiced arcs, clearing a path as chunks of the ceiling rained down. "Keep moving!" he shouted, his voice strained but commanding.

"I'm trying!" Mira snapped, her voice laced with panic. She glanced down at me, her lips trembling as she noticed how pale I'd become. "He's burning up, Lucien! We need to stop, even for a second—"

"We don't have a second," Lucien barked, his tone sharper than intended. He didn't look back, his focus fixed on the faint glimmer of light marking the end of the passage. "If we stop here, we all go down with this place."

Charlotte stumbled over a jagged piece of stone, catching herself on the wall with a hiss of pain. "He's right," she said, her voice tight. "The Core's energy is collapsing inward. If we don't get out now, none of us will make it."

---

The moment we burst into the open air of the western wing, the oppressive weight of the Core eased—but only slightly. The estate itself felt different, heavier, as if the veins of the Crimson Trail had spread further during our descent. The metallic scent lingered, faint but suffocating, and the faint hum of the Trail's energy vibrated beneath the floorboards.

Mira dropped to her knees near the wall, her arms trembling as she adjusted me in her grip. "It's okay, baby," she whispered, her voice breaking as she kissed my forehead. "We're out. We're safe now."

But I wasn't safe. My tiny body shivered violently, beads of sweat rolling down my face as the fever worsened. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one weak and labored. Mira's hands moved frantically, brushing the hair from my damp forehead and pressing her palm against my cheek to check the heat. "Lucien," she said, her tone sharp with panic. "He's getting worse."

Lucien sheathed his sword, the amulet still faintly glowing in his hand. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before shifting to Mira. "The Core did something to him," he said grimly. "The connection—"

"I don't care about your connection!" Mira snapped, her voice rising as she glared at him. Tears welled in her eyes, her fear bubbling over into anger. "You said we'd protect him! Look at him! Does this look like protection to you?"

Lucien's jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening under the weight of her words. "If we hadn't gone down there, the Core would've collapsed unchecked. The entire estate would've gone with it."

"Don't you dare try to justify this!" Mira shouted, her voice cracking. Her arms curled protectively around me, shielding me as if her fury alone could undo what had happened. "He's a baby, Lucien. A baby! And you let that thing touch him."

Charlotte stepped forward cautiously, her face pale but her tone steady. "Mira," she said gently, though her voice carried a firm edge. "None of us wanted this. But he's alive. We're all alive. That has to mean something."

Mira's lips trembled as she shook her head, her tears spilling over. "This isn't living," she whispered, her gaze dropping to me. Her thumb brushed over the faint crack on my forearm, and she flinched as it pulsed faintly.

---

The tension hung thick in the air as we moved to the nearest intact room, a library lined with ancient tomes and crumbling shelves. Mira placed me on a makeshift bed of cushions, her hands lingering on my feverish skin as if afraid to let go. I felt her every movement—her shaking fingers, her shallow breaths—but I was too weak to respond. My body was heavy, uncooperative, my limbs limp and unresponsive.

Lucien stood by the window, the amulet dangling from his fingers as he stared out into the darkness. His expression was tight, unreadable, though the furrow in his brow betrayed the weight of his thoughts. Charlotte sat nearby, her back against the wall as she flipped through the pages of Lilia's diary, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Found anything yet?" Lucien asked, his voice low.

Charlotte didn't look up. "Pieces. Fragments of something bigger." She turned another page, her eyes narrowing as her finger traced a line of faded script. "There's mention of a failsafe. Something about an anchor and a vessel."

"What does it mean?" Mira asked sharply, her gaze snapping to Charlotte. "What failsafe?"

Charlotte hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she spoke. "The anchor is tied to the estate. To the Crimson Trail. And the vessel…" Her eyes flicked to me briefly before dropping back to the diary. "The vessel is him."

Mira's breath caught, her body going rigid as her arms curled protectively around me. "No," she said, her voice low and trembling. "No, you don't get to say that. Not after everything."

Charlotte held up a hand, her tone cautious. "It's not about sacrifice, Mira. The failsafe is supposed to sever the Trail's grip entirely. To stop Valthys for good."

"Sever it how?" Lucien asked, his voice clipped.

Charlotte hesitated again, her finger tracing another line. "It's… symbolic. The anchor and the vessel have to undergo a ritual—a symbolic death. It's the only way to cut Valthys's tether."

Mira's reaction was immediate and visceral. "Absolutely not," she snapped, her voice rising as she stood, her body shielding me like a barrier. "You're not using him for some ritual. I don't care what it promises to fix."

"Mira, listen to me," Charlotte said, her tone firm but pleading. "This isn't about using him. It's about ending this. Once and for all."

"No," Mira said again, her voice breaking. "There has to be another way. There's always another way."

Lucien turned from the window, his expression hard. "This is the way," he said quietly, though his voice carried an edge of finality. "If we don't do this, Valthys will keep coming back. The Trail will keep spreading. And eventually, it will take him anyway."

Mira rounded on him, her eyes blazing. "You don't care about him," she spat, her voice trembling with fury. "You never have. All you care about is your precious estate, your damned Trail. You're no better than the thing down there."

Lucien flinched, the words hitting something, but he didn't respond. His gaze dropped to the amulet in his hand, his jaw tightening as he turned back to the window.

Charlotte shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking between the two of them. "We need to focus," she said, her tone cautious. "Arguing won't help him. Or us."

Mira didn't respond. Her arms curled tighter around me, her tears falling silently as the room descended into a tense, heavy silence.

---

The system's text flickered into view suddenly, breaking the stillness. Its words were sharp, cold, and unforgiving.

[The anchor bends. The vessel bleeds. The trail remains sharp.]

The warning hung in the air like a blade, and I felt the weight of it settle over everyone in the room. Lucien's grip on the amulet tightened, Charlotte's expression grew darker, and Mira's body trembled against mine.

Time was running out, and no one had an answer.