Chapter 11: "The Failsafe’s Edge Part II

The air in the chamber hung heavy, thick with the dust of the failsafe's collapse. Kai's chest heaved as he stared at the pedestal, the second relic-lock glowing a dull green, its runes pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. His paradox mark flickered, weaker now, but still alive, a constant ache under his skin. Mara's whisper—"You can't pay it back"—lingered in his ears, softer but no less insistent, driving him forward even as his body screamed to stop.

Lena leaned against the pedestal, her leg a mess of blood and torn fabric, her breathing shallow. "You sure about this, Voss? You're bleeding from damn near everywhere."

Kai wiped his face, smearing blood across his sleeve, and forced a grim smile. "Not dead yet. That's what counts."

Quiet woman stepped up, her knife still clutched tight, her gray-streaked hair falling into her eyes. "We're down to three," she said, her voice flat but steady. "Jittery kid's dust, Tali's barely moving. If this goes south, we're done."

Tali sat slumped against the wall, her frail frame trembling, her broken relic clutched in her hands. Her gray hair hung in limp strands, and her eyes—sunken, watery—darted between Kai and the stash. "We… we can't stop," she whispered, voice cracking. "Not after all this."

Markus nodded, his cane tapping as he moved closer, his face etched deeper with lines than Kai had ever seen. "She's right. That stash—it's why we're here. Syndicate's lifeline, maybe ours too. But this lock… it's different. Older."

Kai squinted at the relic-lock, its green glow casting sickly shadows across the cracked mosaic floor. "Older how?" he asked, flexing his hand, the mark sparking faintly.

"Timelords were guards, failsafe was muscle," Markus said, his tone grim. "This—this is a failsafe's failsafe. Syndicate didn't just lock the stash; they cursed it. Break it wrong, and we might not walk out."

"Fantastic," Lena muttered, straightening up with a wince. "So what's the play, Voss? Smash it and hope?"

Kai shook his head, the hum from the stash buzzing in his skull. "No more hoping. We've got to be smart—figure out how it works." He stepped closer, the mark pulsing in time with the lock, and reached out, fingers hovering an inch from the surface. The air thickened, time stuttering—his hand slowed, then snapped back, a jolt running up his arm.

"Careful, kid," Markus warned, his cane tapping faster. "That's not just a lock—it's a trap."

Before Kai could respond, the chamber trembled, a low groan echoing from the walls. The mosaic floor shifted, tiles cracking apart, and shadows rose—not the failsafe, not Timelords, but something new. Figures formed—three of them, vague and blurred, like echoes of people long gone, their edges flickering with relic-light.

"What now?" Lena growled, raising her dagger, her leg trembling under her weight.

"Echoes," Markus said, voice low. "Ghosts of the trade—Syndicate's first thieves, bound to guard this."

The echoes moved, silent but fast, their forms aging and youth flashing in waves. One lunged at Kai, its hand outstretched, and time twisted—he ducked, but his shoulder aged where it grazed him, skin tightening, then snapping back with a sting. "They're like the failsafe," he shouted, swinging his mark-lit fist. It connected, dust bursting, but the echo reformed, its blank face staring.

"Hit 'em together!" Lena yelled, slashing at the second echo. Her dagger sparked, cutting through, and it crumbled—but reformed a heartbeat later, relentless.

Quiet woman tackled the third, her knife sinking deep, dust spilling, but it grabbed her arm—her hair whitened fully, her grip weakening. She staggered back, cursing, still fighting. Tali whimpered, curling tighter against the wall, useless now.

Kai's mark flared brighter, head pounding as he swung again, smashing the first echo apart. This time, he didn't wait—rushing the pedestal, he slammed his fist into the lock. Time fractured—the chamber shook, the echoes freezing mid-step, then crumbling for good. The lock cracked, green light dimming, but a new sound rose—a deep, grinding rumble from beneath.

"Voss, what'd you do?" Lena snapped, limping to his side, her eyes wide.

Kai panted, blood dripping from his nose, the mark sparking erratically. "Broke it—mostly. But it's not over."

Markus pointed with his cane, his hand shaking. "Look—the stash."

The pedestal shifted, revealing a second barrier—a translucent dome over the pure time stash, its surface etched with runes that glowed a faint, sickly yellow. "Another damn lock," Kai muttered, clenching his fist. "How many do they have?"

"Enough to kill us," quiet woman said, her voice hoarse, her aged arm trembling as she gripped her knife.

"We're close," Kai said, meeting their eyes—Lena's fierce glare, Markus's grim resolve, quiet woman's stoic nod, Tali's frail hope fading fast. "One more, and we've got it."

The rumble grew louder, the chamber trembling harder, and Kai knew—they weren't just fighting locks anymore. The vault was waking up.