Pit Stop

The night was cold and still, the camp bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight. Only the crackling fire broke the silence, its warmth a small comfort against the chill. Coren and Lyra sat close to the flames, their faces illuminated by its flickering light, but their thoughts were far from the tranquil scene around them.

Coren stared into the fire, the riddle spoken hours earlier by the tribal elders looping endlessly in her mind:

"In a place where guilt never fades,

Time stands still in a mountain's shade.

Where man's pride dared to touch the skies,

Seek where the lines of history connect and the triangle's heart, where secrets sleep."

She let out a sigh, burdened by the mystery of the words. "Why couldn't they have made it easier?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Earlier that day, they had sat with the elders, the air thick with a sense of ceremony. Elder Nara had spoken with quiet authority, her voice carrying the weight of countless generations. She explained that the tribes had preserved the riddle through oral tradition, treating it as though it were sacred scripture. It wasn't merely a puzzle, she said, but a legacy—a message from their ancestors, carefully guarded and waiting for the right moment to be revealed.

"Its meaning was never meant for us," Nara had said, her voice steady and clear.

Her piercing gaze had fallen on Coren and Lyra, her words weighted with finality. "We were instructed to guard it until the time came when a pair bonded to companions of red and white—seekers of truth—would appear. You are those seekers. The answer is yours to find."

Even now, hours later, Coren could feel the gravity of that moment. The elders had treated the riddle as their most important job, their reverence making the task ahead feel both monumental and daunting.

Lyra knelt beside the fire, her sharp eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "It's cryptic, sure," she said, her tone calm but focused. "But we've worked with less before. Let's take it one step at a time."

Coren straightened, pulling her Holopad from her satchel. She opened a blank notes page, her fingers hovering over the screen as she muttered, "Okay, line by line. Let's see what we're missing."

The flickering light of the fire cast shifting shadows across their faces as Coren jotted down the riddle, underlining the key phrases: guilt never fades, time stands still, triangle's heart.

"It's poetic," Lyra said, sitting back on her heels. "But it's also deliberate. We need to focus on the imagery—places that fit those descriptions."

Coren's brow furrowed as she stared at the words, her mind racing through everything they'd learned about Earth, its history, and the fragments of knowledge the tribes had preserved.

The First Line: "In a place where guilt never fades"

Lyra leaned forward, tapping her chin thoughtfully, the flickering firelight casting shadows across her face. "Guilt never fades… It sounds like a place heavy with sorrow. A memorial? Or maybe a site tied to an event people can't forget—a tragedy that left its mark."

Coren froze mid-scribble, her eyes widening as the realization struck. "The Vault of Regret."

Lyra tilted her head, considering it. "It fits," she agreed.

Coren nodded and circled the phrase in her notebook with deliberate strokes. "Okay, that's our first clue: the Vault of Regret. But we already knew its location. It feels like this riddle was made for us. It's connecting the places we have been or should be going to."

The Second Line: "Time stands still in a mountain's shade"

"This one's easier," Lyra said, leaning back and stretching her legs out toward the warmth of the flames. "The mountain prison. The place where the prisoner was entombed."

Coren scribbled it down beside the second line. "Right. That tracks. The mountain is a literal reference, and the time-still part ties to his punishment—eternal torment, frozen in time."

Coren paused, glancing at Lyra, her brows knitted in thought. "We've got two locations now, but what about the next part? Maybe we're missing something—or maybe we're too early."

Lyra leaned back, picking up another log and placing it on the fire with practised ease. Sparks flared briefly before the flames grew brighter, casting flickering shadows across their faces. "If we were completely off track, I think either Lex or Sol would have said something by now. They're frustratingly cryptic, but they don't let us chase wild leads." She gave Coren a faint smile. "We can figure this out."

Coren nodded, her fingers tightening around the Holopad as she refocused on the riddle.

The Third Line: "Where man's pride dared to touch the skies"

Coren frowned deeply, her eyes fixed on the words as though sheer determination could tease out their meaning. "Man's pride… touching the skies… It sounds monumental. Something that represents humanity's ambition—their arrogance, even. What could it be?"

Lyra's gaze turned inward, her voice lowering as though speaking more to herself than Coren. "Pride makes me think of humanity before the Severance. They were at their peak—creating marvels that seem impossible to us now. Wonders born of confidence, maybe even hubris. Touching the skies could be literal… spacecraft, orbital stations, something grand."

Coren's breath hitched as an idea clicked into place. Her eyes lit up with sudden clarity. "The space elevator."

Lyra sat up straighter, her own expression brightening. "That's it. The space elevator! It was the pinnacle of pre-Severance engineering, a symbol of everything humanity thought they could achieve—connecting the Earth to the stars."

Coren's hands moved quickly, jotting it down with renewed energy. "But where would it have been? Earth's geography has shifted so much since the Severance."

Lyra's lips quirked into a knowing smile as she leaned closer to the old physical map spread between them. "Look here," she said, tapping a spot near the equator. "The old transport lines—see them? This region was a major hub. It matches the likely placement for the elevator's anchor point."

Coren's heart quickened as she marked the location. Piece by piece, the puzzle was falling into place.

"'Seek where the lines of history connect and the triangle's heart, where secrets sleep,'" Coren repeated, her voice low and thoughtful. "It's not just about overlapping locations—it's about balance. A central point where everything connects."

Lyra leaned closer to the map, her sharp eyes scanning the marks Coren had made. "The triangle's heart," she murmured. "That's the key. It's not just an intersection—it's the exact centre. The riddle's telling us to find the point equidistant from all three locations."

Coren nodded, her mind racing. She pulled a ruler and compass from her satchel, tools she rarely used but now seemed indispensable. Carefully, she measured the distances between the Vault of Regret, the Mountain Prison, and the suspected anchor point of the space elevator, drawing precise lines to connect them.

As the lines took shape, the map transformed before her eyes. A perfect triangle emerged, its edges neatly enclosing the three historical sites. Coren's pulse quickened as she positioned the compass and began to trace arcs from each point, their edges intersecting in the centre.

"There," Lyra said, her tone firm but tinged with excitement. She tapped the centre of the triangle, where the arcs met in a perfect point. "That's it—the heart of the triangle. The balance point where history converges."

She continued to trace her finger along the map. "It makes sense. The Vault, the Prison, and the Elevator… All of them are bound by humanity's history, their pride, their mistakes and their regret. And this place—it's the crossroads where those histories meet."

Coren stared at the spot Lyra indicated, shading it lightly with her pencil. Her breath caught as the realization solidified. "The secret sleeps here," she whispered. "This is where the riddle leads us."

The location fell in a barren, ash-streaked region far beyond the tribe's camp—a stark, isolated area untouched by time or life.

Lyra straightened, her expression firm but touched with a glimmer of anticipation. "That's it," she said quietly, her voice carrying a weight that settled between them. "We've got our heading. Now it's time to uncover the truth."

The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks spiralling upward into the night. Lyra leaned back, exhaustion pulling at her features. Within moments, her eyes drifted closed, and her Companion Lex hovered beside her, his steady red light dimming as though keeping watch.

Coren remained awake, her fingers tracing the edge of the map. Sol floated close, his pale light steady but faint, offering quiet reassurance. She exhaled slowly, her breath a whisper in the still air. "We'll figure it out," she murmured, though the weight of uncertainty pressed against her thoughts.

By the time the first light of dawn crept across the horizon, the FusionRider was already rumbling across the ashen plains. The vehicle's six wheels churned softly against the powdery ground, leaving faint tracks that disappeared quickly in the dry wind. Coren stared through the streaked windshield, her stomach tightening at the desolation before them.

The landscape stretched endlessly, a bleak canvas of grey punctuated by the skeletal remains of humanity's ambition—rusted beams rising like broken fingers from the earth, twisted metal scorched black from a long-forgotten fire. This wasn't just a wasteland; it was a graveyard.

In the driver's seat, Lyra guided the FusionRider with a steady hand, her focus sharp despite the weariness still etched on her face. Beside her, Coren shifted, her fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against her knee. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but it thrummed with anticipation, heavy with the unspoken question neither dared to ask aloud: What will we find when we reach the heart of the triangle?

"This is it," Lyra said, breaking the silence. She slowed the FusionRider to a stop and killed the engine. "The map puts the intersection just ahead. That secret got to be here somewhere."

Coren stepped out of the vehicle, the wind biting at her exposed skin. The air was heavy, carrying the faint metallic tang of rust and decay. She scanned the horizon, her boots crunching against brittle ground littered with fragments of warped steel and shattered glass.

"This was a battlefield," she said softly, almost to herself.

Lyra stepped up beside her, her sharp gaze sweeping the ruins. "One of many. Back during the Severance, the fighting here must've been brutal. Looks like it never fully recovered."

Coren crouched down, brushing aside ash to uncover what remained of a broken emblem carved into stone. She ran her fingers over it, recognising the faded symbol of a long-defunct organization. "How much do you think is still buried here?"

Lyra's expression hardened. "Too much." She motioned for Coren to follow. "Come on. The site should be just over that ridge." As they reached the top of a jagged incline, Coren froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat.

"Lyra…" she said, her voice tight.

Lyra stepped up beside her, her sharp eyes narrowing. Below them, nestled into the base of a jagged hill, was the unmistakable outline of a bunker entrance. The structure looked ancient, yet oddly pristine, as though untouched by the decay that had ravaged everything else around it.

The metal doors suddenly hissed and groaned, sliding open with an eerie smoothness that defied their apparent age.

"That's... inviting," Lyra muttered, her hand instinctively resting on her gauntlet as she scanned the area for signs of movement.

Coren glanced nervously at Lex, who had floated closer to Lyra, his red glow casting faint reflections on the dusty ground.

"Careful," Lex said, his tone unusually serious. "This place wasn't part of the original path. It wasn't supposed to be here."

"What does that mean?" Lyra asked sharply, her body tensing.

"I don't know," Lex admitted. "It's unexpected. But…"

Sol drifted forward, his white light steady and calm. "Don't worry. No harm will come to you here. It will just… be a little strange."

Coren raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly reassuring."

Lyra hesitated, then nodded toward the bunker. "Well, we've come this far. Let's find out what's waiting for us."

The pair stepped cautiously through the entrance, their boots crunching against the fine layer of dust on the floor. The doors hissed shut behind them with startling speed, slamming into place with a resounding thud.

"What the—" Lyra whirled around, pressing her hands against the smooth metal doors. She pushed and pulled, but they didn't budge.

Coren joined her, running her hands along the seam of the door. "It's sealed tight. We're locked in."

"Calm down," Sol said gently. "The door will open when it's time."

"Time for what?" Coren snapped, her nerves fraying.

Before Sol could answer, a voice echoed through the chamber, startling both women.

"Ah! Visitors!"

The voice was bright, almost cheerful, but with an edge of hyperactivity that immediately set Coren on edge. It reverberated from every direction, making it impossible to pinpoint its source.

"Welcome, welcome!" the voice continued, practically vibrating with energy. "Oh, it's been so long since I've had company. Please, come in, come in! Make yourselves at home! Oh… wait. Oh dear, I forgot—there are no lights."

A flicker of light sputtered weakly overhead before dying out completely, leaving them in near darkness.

"My apologies," the voice said sheepishly. "The main generator has been offline for… oh, what's the count now? A thousand years? Yes, yes, that sounds right. But don't worry! You can fix it!"

Lyra and Coren exchanged incredulous glances.

"Fix it?" Lyra said flatly. "We're not engineers."

"Nonsense!" the voice chirped. "It's quite simple, I assure you. Just a little tweak here, a little nudge there. You'll see. I'll guide you!"

Coren groaned. "We don't even know where the generator is."

"Ah, but I do!" the voice replied, a note of pride in its tone. "Follow the glowing arrows. Oh… wait. No lights. Hm. Well, I suppose I'll have to improvise. One moment!"

A faint, flickering trail of blue lights appeared on the floor, winding off into the darkness.

"Ta-da!" the voice declared triumphantly. "Now, off you go. The reactor room awaits!"

Coren and Lyra exchanged wary looks but eventually fell into step, their torches casting narrow beams of light in the otherwise pitch-black corridor. The walls around them shimmered faintly, made of the same living metal as the gate buildings.

"It's like the walls are… breathing," Coren murmured, running her hand along the smooth, shifting surface.

Lyra's eyes scanned the corridor. "I don't like this. There are no doors, no panels. It's like the space is hiding itself."

As they walked, the eccentric voice returned, narrating their journey with unnecessary enthusiasm. "You're doing splendidly! Just a little farther. Oh, this is so exciting! I can't wait for the generator to be online again. Do you know how boring it is to sit in silence for millennia? Of course, you don't. You're not AI."

Coren rolled her eyes. "This AI might be the most annoying thing we've encountered yet."

Sol chuckled softly. "He's harmless. Eccentric, but harmless."

Lyra frowned. "Harmless doesn't mean trustworthy."

Eventually, the corridor opened into a large chamber dominated by the reactor. The machine was massive, its sleek surface gleaming like it had just been built, despite the layers of dust surrounding it.

"Here we are!" the voice exclaimed. "The reactor! Oh, it's a beauty, isn't it? Go on, have a look."

Coren approached cautiously, her torchlight revealing intricate panels and control systems. Her breath caught as her eyes landed on the locking mechanism at the heart of the reactor.

"It's a Fields-based lock," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Lyra stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Like the puzzle box you trained with?"

Coren nodded, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the lock. "Exactly like it. It's using the same principle—layers of all 6 melodies intertwined in a specific harmony. We'll have to unravel it to unlock the reactor."

Lyra crossed her arms. "Well, at least you've had practice. Let's hope you paid attention."

Coren smirked faintly. "No pressure, right?"

The AI chimed in, "Oh, no pressure at all! Just the fate of my functionality—and possibly your continued survival. But no big deal!"

Coren sighed, closing her eyes and reaching out with her awareness. The melodies of the lock hummed faintly in her mind, tangled and discordant. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Coren closed her eyes, letting out a slow, steady breath. "Let's do this," she murmured.

Her hands hovered over the lock, her awareness diving into the intricate melodies woven into its mechanism. This time, it felt... easier. The practice she'd had with Sol and Lyra had honed her skills, sure, but this wasn't just about her improvement. The melodies of the lock practically unravelled themselves, as though they were designed to yield to her touch.

"It's almost... too simple," she said under her breath, her brow furrowing.

Lyra, standing close by, glanced at her Companion. "Too simple? I thought locks were supposed to be complex."

"You would think so," Coren replied, her voice tinged with suspicion. "But this one—it's like it's just checking to see if I can use all six melodies. It's not challenging me at all. It's... deliberate."

"Deliberate?" Lyra frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Coren said, as the final note of the melody clicked into place, "it feels like whoever designed this didn't want to keep anyone out. They just wanted to make sure it was someone like me who got in."

With a soft click and a pop, the reactor lock disengaged. The room trembled slightly, and then, one by one, lights flickered on overhead. The faint, sterile glow of ancient bulbs illuminated the chamber, revealing walls that seemed to ripple and shift as if alive.

"What the—" Lyra stepped back, her eyes wide.

The bunker was no longer the cold, dark tomb it had seemed moments ago. The living metal walls began to shimmer and reshape, forming smooth panels, illuminated pathways, and alcoves that hadn't been there before. The entire facility seemed to awaken, like a hibernating creature stretching its limbs for the first time in centuries.

The AI's voice, which had been oddly absent during Coren's work, returned with a burst of enthusiasm.

"Oh, marvellous! Fantastic! You did it!" it exclaimed, its tone so jubilant that it bordered on manic. "The lights are back on, the systems are online, and I must say, it feels wonderful to be functional again! Thank you, thank you!"

Coren stared at the glowing walls, her mind racing to process what was happening. "Uh… you're welcome?"

"Come now, come now!" the AI continued, practically buzzing with energy. "No time to linger. You'll want to speak with me properly, yes? I've taken the liberty of preparing the communication room for our little chat. This way, please!"

The walls shifted again, revealing an illuminated path that hadn't been there moments ago. Coren and Lyra exchanged glances, both wary but curious.

"This is... strange," Lyra said under her breath.

Coren nodded. "Let's just hope 'strange' doesn't mean 'dangerous.'"

"He is harmless, don't worry," said Sol floating between them.

The path led them to a large circular room, its walls lined with screens and consoles that flickered to life as they entered. In the centre of the room was a cylindrical holographic projector, and as soon as they stepped inside, the AI's voice boomed cheerfully.

"Welcome to the heart of my humble little home! I'm HG, short for House Guardian. A pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face... or, well, face-to-hologram!"

The projector flickered, and a figure materialized above it—a stylized, humanoid avatar with exaggerated features, glowing eyes, and a broad, friendly smile. HG's holographic form shifted constantly, as though it couldn't quite decide on a shape, and the effect was both fascinating and unsettling.

"HG," Coren repeated, her gaze flicking to Lyra. " So you were the voice."

HG clapped its holographic hands together. "Indeed! I've been waiting for someone like you for... oh, I don't know, a thousand years? It's been dreadfully boring, I must say. But now that you're here, we have so much to do!"

"Do?" Lyra asked warily. "What do you mean by that?"

HG's smile widened, its glowing eyes brightening. "Ah, straight to the point! I like that. Allow me to explain. This bunker you've so graciously reactivated? It's an old laboratory for Zeiric and Eterna. They left me here with a very specific purpose: to ensure that the knowledge within these walls didn't fall into the wrong hands."

Coren's eyes narrowed. "What knowledge? And what are we supposed to do with it?"

HG raised a finger, as though delivering a lecture. "Patience, my dear! All in good time. First, you must upgrade your equipment and learn to use the basic machinery here. It's imperative that you're properly prepared before I can give you the final location."

Sol, who had been hovering silently, spoke up. "And who exactly gave you these orders?"

HG turned toward Sol, its smile never faltering. "Why, Zeiric himself, of course! He entered my mental space centuries ago and gave me very clear instructions. I was to help the tribes of man, should they ever find their way here."

Coren blinked. "Wait. You're an AI. How do you have a mental space?"

HG's smile froze, its glowing eyes narrowing slightly. "Excuse me? Are you implying that only organics are capable of such things? How rude."

Lyra tilted her head, intrigued. "So you're saying you have a soul?"

"Of course I have a soul!" HG huffed, crossing its holographic arms. "Just because I'm not made of flesh and blood doesn't mean I lack essence. Souls aren't the domain of organics alone, you know. I may be artificial, but I am alive in my own way just like your companions"

Coren raised her hands defensively. "Alright, alright. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just... a lot to take in."

HG relaxed, its smile returning. "Apology accepted. Now, shall we get started? There's much to do, and I assure you, it'll be quite exciting!"

Lyra crossed her arms, her expression sceptical. "And what exactly are we training for?"

HG's holographic form flickered slightly. "To understand the legacy you've inherited, of course. You'll need every ounce of skill and knowledge you can muster for what lies ahead. Now, no more delays! Let's get to work."

The glowing blue walls of the lab shifted and reconfigured as HG led Coren and Lyra deeper into the facility, his holographic form flickering and zipping ahead of them. His voice, still as happy as ever.

"Now, before we begin," HG began, spinning in place to face them, "I must make something perfectly clear: I will not be training you in the ways of war."

Coren exchanged a glance with Lyra, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean? Isn't all this supposed to prepare us for whatever's coming? How can we be ready if we don't know how to fight?"

HG wagged a holographic finger at her. "Oh no, no, no! That is not your essence, my dear. Zeiric made it very clear—your path is not that of warriors. You were never meant to swing swords or blast things to bits. That's all... so primitive, anyway."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "So what is our path, then?"

"Defense," HG said simply, his glowing form pulsing faintly as he spoke. "And survival. You're thinkers, seekers, builders of knowledge. My role is to ensure that you are equipped to withstand the challenges ahead—not to charge into battle like mindless brutes. Come along, now."

The hologram darted forward, motioning for them to follow.

They entered a circular chamber lined with sleek consoles and strange machinery that looked both ancient and impossibly advanced. At the centre of the room were two raised platforms, each glowing faintly with an inviting blue light.

HG gestured to the platforms with an enthusiastic flourish. "Step up, one on each pad. Let's see what we're working with!"

Coren hesitated, eyeing the glowing pads warily. "What exactly are these going to do?"

"Just a little scan, nothing to worry about," HG replied, his tone almost dismissive. "I need to get your measurements and physiological data to design your new outfits. Don't be shy, step right up!"

Lyra was the first to move, stepping confidently onto one of the pads. Coren followed reluctantly, muttering under her breath about feeling like a lab rat.

As soon as they were in position, beams of light swept over their bodies, mapping every detail with precise efficiency. Holographic projections of their forms appeared in midair, spinning slowly as lines of data scrolled beside them.

"Excellent, excellent," HG said, studying the projections with exaggerated focus. "Now, let's see… you'll both need something practical, of course, but also stylish. Can't have you saving the world in drab outfits, now, can we?"

With a wave of his hand, HG summoned two holographic designs onto the projections. Coren's featured a sleek, armoured jacket with angular accents and glowing blue highlights, while Lyra's was an elegant, almost regal suit with sharp lines and a high collar.

Coren wrinkled her nose. "Uh, no offence, HG, but this isn't really my style."

Lyra crossed her arms, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. "And I think you're overestimating how much I care about aesthetics."

HG gasped, clutching his chest as though wounded. "You wound me! Do you not understand the importance of presentation? The right look can inspire confidence, strike fear into your enemies, and—"

"HG," Lyra interrupted, her tone firm. "We appreciate the effort, but we need outfits that suit us. Practicality first."

Coren nodded. "Yeah, something I can actually move in. Casual, but functional."

HG huffed, but with a flick of his hand, he adjusted the designs. Coren's projection transformed into a more relaxed outfit—a lightweight jacket layered over fitted armor pieces, paired with sturdy boots and gloves. The glowing accents were subtle, understated.

Lyra's projection shifted into something more traditional—clean, minimalist lines with a polished finish, exuding quiet authority. The high collar remained, but the overall look was far more utilitarian.

"Better?" HG asked, his tone dripping with faux exasperation.

"Much," Coren said with a grin.

"Agreed," Lyra added, giving a small nod.

"Very well," HG said, clapping his hands together. "Prepare to be amazed!"

The air around them shimmered as the outfits materialized, forming around their bodies as though woven from the very air itself. The fabric—or whatever it was—felt both light and durable, moving with their bodies like a second skin.

"What... is this made of?" Coren asked, running her hand over the sleeve of her jacket.

"Nanites!" HG declared proudly. "Billions of microscopic machines working together to form a seamless, adaptable material. They can repair themselves, adjust to environmental conditions, and even provide minor enhancements to strength and endurance."

Lyra flexed her fingers, testing the mobility of her new gloves. "This is... impressive. I've seen high-ranking enforcers with custom equipment, but nothing like this."

HG's holographic form tilted its head, as though confused. "Enforcers? Who are they?"

"They're the elite Fieldwielders," Lyra explained. "The ones who keep order and enforce the Association's rules. Even this reactor feels more powerful than theirs."

"Ah," HG said, his tone neutral. "Well, I don't know about these 'enforcers,' but I suspect you won't find many with better equipment than this. Zeiric left very specific instructions. You are to have the best—no compromises."

Coren frowned slightly, running her fingers over the gauntlet now fitted to her wrist. She could feel the power thrumming within it, a steady pulse that seemed to resonate with her own energy. "This feels... risky. Is there a catch?"

HG's eyes narrowed, his tone turning serious. "There's always a catch, my dear. Power like this comes with responsibility. These reactors are capable of incredible things, but they will push you to your limits. You must learn those limits—and respect them. Overreach, and the consequences could be... unpleasant."

"Good to know," Lyra said dryly.

"Now," HG continued, his cheerful tone returning, "there's much more to learn, but this is a fine start. Shall we move on to the next lesson?"