Chapter 7: The Fractured Choice
Chapter 7: The Fractured Choice
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The cribs glowed in the moonlight, side by side.
Thalaya traced her daughters' faces—Maya, who slept with fists curled like a warrior, and Elara, whose tiny fingers clung to a Melodiflora petal. The flower pulsed faintly, its song threading through the nursery: *"Two roots, one tree. Two stars, one sky."*
"You *knew*," Thalaya whispered to the darkness. The Melodiflora had warned her of this night. APGA's summons burned in her pocket, its serpent seal glinting like a predator's eye. *One child only. The one who shines.*
Maya's crib rattled. A stuffed rabbit levitated, twitching as if alive.
"Shh, my lightning," Thalaya cooed, catching the toy. But her hands shook.
Elara stirred, her whimper harmonizing with the Melodiflora's cry. When Thalaya lifted her, the nursery lights brightened. *Always the quiet magic,* she thought. The way shadows parted for Elara, how houseplants leaned to brush her cheek.
But APGA wanted fireworks, not whispers.
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**The Parting**
At dawn, the teleporter arrived—a gaunt man reeking of ozone and regret.
"Finalize your choice," he said, eyeing the twins.
Thalaya knelt, pressing her forehead to Elara's. *Forgive me.*
The baby giggled, unaware she was being gifted a death sentence: a life ordinary, while her sister became a weapon.
Maya fought the swaddling blanket. Her first word wasn't *Mama* but *"Up!"*—and up she went, hovering above Thalaya's arms.
"Remarkable," the teleporter breathed. "The Board will be pleased."
As he activated his device, Thalaya's resolve cracked. "Wait! Let me—"
But the world dissolved into static.
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**Blackstone Citadel**
The APGA complex didn't so much occupy the mountain as *replace* it. Obsidian walls drank the sunlight, their surfaces etched with containment runes that buzzed against Maya's teeth.
"Home sweet hell," the teleporter muttered.
Thalaya clutched Maya tighter. The Melodiflora petal hidden in her sleeve wilted instantly.
They passed labs where glass pods held children mid-scream, their hands fused with vines or crackling with lightning. A researcher in a stained coat nodded at Maya. "Ah, Subject Alpha's sister. Let's hope she lasts longer."
Thalaya's breakfast rose in her throat.
Their quarters were a gilded cage—plush carpets, no windows. Maya crawled toward a ventilation grate, giggling as dust motes danced for her.
"No!" Thalaya yanked her back. *They'll dissect you if you shine too bright.*
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**First Fracture**
Maya's training began at three.
Dr. Voss (no relation to the late Illyria, they assured Thalaya) demonstrated with a melon.
"Focus on its core," he told Maya.
The fruit exploded.
"Good," Voss said, jotting notes. "Now the puppy."
Thalaya intervened. "She's not a monster!"
Voss's smile chilled. "Not yet."
That night, Thalaya packed. Clothes, rations, the Melodiflora petal now brittle as grief.
"We're leaving," she told Maya.
But the door refused to open. The walls hummed: *APGA watches. APGA keeps.*
Maya drew spirals in spilled juice. They glowed.
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**Ghost Sister**
At six, Maya began sleepwalking.
"Who's El'ra?" she asked one morning.
Thalaya dropped a teacup. "Where did you—"
"The sad girl in my dreams. She lives under flowers." Maya frowned. "Why won't you let me play with her?"
Thalaya scrubbed porcelain shards. "Eat your eggs."
But the dreams worsened.
***Shared Vision: The Garden***
Elara (smaller, paler) tends Melodiflora that grows through floorboards.
*"Mama's coming back,"* she tells Maya.
*"No,"* Maya replies. *"She's gone forever."*
The flowers scream.
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**The Luminara Deception**
On Maya's tenth birthday, they gave her a dagger.
"Your invitation," Voss said.
The blade's edge shimmered with holograms: spires piercing clouds, students sparring with elements.
"Luminara Institute," Thalaya read, nauseated. APGA's elite academy, where children became soldiers.
Maya slashed the air, grinning as the blade left comet trails. "When do I start?"
That night, Thalaya found her packing.
"You don't have to go," Thalaya whispered.
Maya folded a jacket with military precision. "You chose this."
The Melodiflora petal crumbled to dust.
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**First Day**
Luminara's towers stank of ambition and ozone.
"Room 1447," the provost said, eyeing Maya's dossier. "And Miss Thalaya—the Headmistress requires… debriefing."
The office smelled of rosewater and betrayal.
"Your daughter excels," the Headmistress purred. "But her focus wavers. Nightmares?"
Thalaya clenched her fists. "She's a child."
"She's a *legacy*." The Headmistress activated a hologram: Illyria Voss reducing a city block to ash. "Your husband's work."
*Ex-husband,* Thalaya almost corrected. The man who'd smuggled Illyria's research to APGA before disappearing.
"Maya's power could surpass her mother's," the Headmistress continued. "Unless… distractions persist."
The screen shifted: security footage of Elara tending a rooftop garden, unaware of the drone above.
Thalaya's blood turned to ice.
"Ah," the Headmistress smiled. "There's the maternal instinct."
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**Collision Course**
Maya's first class: Temporal Rending 101.
"Channel your rage," the instructor said. "Break time's spine."
Maya focused. The classroom clock exploded.
Students cheered. All except a girl in back—pale, freckled, reeking of soil.
"Show-off," the girl muttered.
Maya's temper flared. She *pushed*—
—and froze.
The girl's mind wasn't a void or a storm. It was… *home*.
***Shared Memory: The Nursery***
*Thalaya singing as twins kick in unison.*
*A Melodiflora unfurling between cribs.*
*The moment of severing.*
Maya stumbled. "Who *are* you?"
Elara's smile cut deeper than any blade.
"Guess."
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**Epiphany**
The Melodiflora on Luminara's grounds erupted into bloom.
Thalaya felt it in the Headmistress's office—a seismic shift. She lunged for the drone controls.
Too late.
Elara's face filled every screen, broadcast live from her rooftop garden.
"Hello, Maya."
APGA sirens wailed.
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