Chapter 27: The Hollow Choir III

The cavern trembled violently, relic-voices wailing as a rift tore open—jagged light split the far wall, breach-glow spilling out in a flood of shimmering mist, the stash's light dimming to a faint flicker in Kai's grip. His mark flared, a sharp burn that aged his arm—gray hair spilled wild, wrinkled skin sagging over bones before snapping back with a crackle—his breath caught, Mara's ache a searing sting in his chest as her echo faded into the chaos. The chants peaked, a desperate chorus—"Take… take…"—then fell silent, replaced by a deep, resonant hum that shook the stone.

"Rift—Kael's side!" Kai yelled, shoving Lena forward—her bandaged arm swung, her dagger flashing as she stumbled toward the light, mist swirling thick around her boots. "Move—now!" His voice cut through the hum, raw and urgent, the cavern's glow pulsing in time with his racing pulse.

Markus limped after her, his cane cracking against stone—his aged leg trembled, runes flaring bright beside him as he squinted into the rift. "He's close—forces coming through," he rasped, his breath short, his sharp eyes catching shadows beyond the light—boots echoed faintly, relic-augs glinting red in the haze.

Quiet woman hauled Tali forward, her knife slashing through the mist—her whitened hair whipped in the rising wind, the frail girl gasping as she clung tight. "They're coming!" Tali cried, her voice breaking—the voices faded entirely, the breach's hum growing sharper, a pull tugging at their edges. Her gray hair caught the glow, her frail hands shaking but resolute.

Kai's mark burned hotter—time bent faintly, slowing the mist around him—he swung his arm, dust swirling as the air thickened, but his legs aged mid-step, trembling before snapping back with a groan. "Hold it together!" he barked, the stash flickering in his grip—Mara's whisper lingered, soft and final: "Stop him…" Her ache fueled him, a fire against the cold.

Lena reached the rift's edge—breach-light flared, blinding, as shadows solidified—Syndicate scouts spilled out, aug-eyes glowing red, relic-weapons humming. "Company!" she snarled, slashing forward—her dagger sparked off an aug-arm, dust bursting in a cloud—her bandaged arm held steady, though her stance wavered under the onslaught.

Quiet woman dodged a relic-bolt—stone aged beside her, crumbling to dust before snapping back with a crack—her knife sank into a scout's chest, dust exploding as she yanked it free. "More—too many!" she shouted, shielding Tali with her body—the frail girl clung tighter, her breath short, eyes wide with terror and defiance.

Markus swung his cane—runes sparked along the shaft, a scout's aug-arm crumbling to ash as he struck—his chest heaved, his aged frame swaying. "Rift's live—Kael's gate!" he rasped, staggering back as another bolt grazed him—stone warped, the cavern shaking harder, walls groaning under the strain.

Kai's stash pulsed one last time, a faint heartbeat—he slammed it down against the stone, time cracking outward in a weak wave—scouts froze for a heartbeat, dust bursting from their ranks—his arm withered, skeletal and trembling, snapping back slower than before. "Go!" he roared, shoving Markus toward the rift—breach-light flared brighter, the hum deafening, Kael's forces closing in fast.

They stumbled through—Lena first, her dagger slashing as she crossed—quiet woman dragging Tali, her knife a blur—Markus limping, his cane dragging—Kai last, his mark dimming, his breath ragged. The mist cleared on the other side, shadows loomed—relic-hum roared louder, the choir's silence a heavy void. Scouts swarmed behind, aug-eyes piercing the haze, but the rift held them back, just barely.

Kai turned, his mark a faint flicker—gray hair wild, his body trembling from the toll—he met their eyes: Lena's fierce glare, Markus's grim nod, quiet woman's steady grip on Tali, the frail girl's resolve shining through her fear. The stash was dead in his hand, its light snuffed out—the cavern faded behind, the rift a jagged scar. Kael's forces were near, their hum a promise of what waited ahead—a fight brewing, no time left to mourn.

The breach stretched beyond, an expanse of fraying stone—platforms floated in the distance, reality bending at its seams. Kai clenched his fist, the stash's weight a cold reminder—Mara's trade, the choir's truth, every life burned. "He's next," he muttered, his voice hard, stepping forward—the team followed, battered but unbroken, the reach ahead a shattered path.