Chapter 45 – Shadows at the Gate

The desert wind howled outside the ruins, sweeping grit and dust through the cracks of ancient stone. Beneath the surface, within the hollowed chambers of the Isu sanctuary, red emergency glyphs flared like warning stars, casting harsh shadows on the walls as the Awakened prepared to vanish.

Kaelen moved through the corridor at a controlled sprint, his mind sharp despite the sirens blaring in his thoughts. Saphira kept pace beside him, coordinating the final evacuation through her wrist-link.

"Extraction point's prepped," she said tersely. "Lysenne's loaded the data node. Minimal corruption."

"Minimal is better than nothing," Kaelen replied, glancing back.

Thessara followed behind them, her movement fluid now, her earlier disorientation gone. The more she reconnected with the world, the more dangerous she looked—though not in the way Ruan feared. She moved with purpose. With history.

Kaelen didn't trust her—not yet. But she knew things none of them did, and right now, knowledge was more valuable than weapons.

"Do we have visual on the breach team?" he asked.

"Not directly," Saphira said. "But we've picked up traces—microdrone pulses, soft-field interference. They're not local."

"Abstergo?"

"Too clean. Too careful."

Kaelen's jaw clenched. "Then someone worse."

A new voice crackled to life in the comms—Lysenne, breathless. "We've got heat blooms in the west corridor. They're inside."

"How many?"

"Five signatures—possibly more behind them. They're not human, Kaelen. At least... not entirely."

That gave him pause. He stopped beside a console embedded in the wall and tapped a command, bringing up a flickering schematic of the temple's western wing. The intruders were moving silently, methodically—each signal tight, precise, too evenly spaced to be mercenaries.

Thessara stepped beside him, glancing at the readouts. "Patterned movement. Synchronized neural cadence. These aren't standard Templar dogs. They're Echelon models."

Kaelen's head snapped toward her. "Echelon?"

She nodded grimly. "Third-tier hybrid constructs. Bio-synthetic. Programmed with Isu reflex data and modern tactics. Designed for subjugation and recovery missions."

"And they're after you," Saphira muttered.

"No," Thessara corrected. "They're after Cindarion."

Kaelen didn't waste another second. "We split. Ruan and Lysenne take the data and clear the escape tunnel. Saphira and I will hold the choke point."

Thessara straightened. "And me?"

"You're with us," Kaelen said. "If they want you, we make sure they don't get you."

For a moment, Thessara looked like she might argue—but then nodded.

They moved fast.

Ruan and Lysenne peeled off down a corridor lined with ancient, inert statues—guardians once meant to defend Isu secrets, now no more than hollow stone. Ruan kept his blade ready, eyes scanning every corner, while Lysenne clutched the data pack like it was a living heart.

Back near the western entrance, Kaelen and Saphira took positions on either side of the narrowing tunnel. The structure here had collapsed in places, forming natural choke points. It would work to their advantage—if they didn't get overwhelmed.

Kaelen activated his hidden blade, the familiar snkkt of its deployment grounding him. "They come, we don't engage directly. Delay and vanish. We're not winning a war here."

Saphira smirked. "Shame. I was in the mood to break something."

A hiss echoed down the corridor. Then another. Not mechanical. Not vocal. Something between.

Kaelen tightened his grip. "Contact in five... four…"

Shapes emerged from the gloom—tall, fluid, cloaked in matte armor that shimmered like water. Their movements were too smooth, too perfect. Not quite human. Not quite machine.

"Now."

Saphira moved first, flanking high. Her blade struck one of the Echelon units, but its reflexes were nearly equal to hers—it twisted, deflected the blow, retaliated with a strike too precise to be instinctual. She ducked, rolled, stabbed.

Kaelen engaged the second, his blade slashing across its side. Sparks flew. No blood. A synthetic scream—not of pain, but disruption—echoed as the unit recoiled.

Thessara raised her hand, and the air trembled. A burst of golden energy flared from her palm, washing over the Echelon formation like a net of light. Three of them staggered—just for a moment—but it was enough.

Kaelen lunged, driving his blade into the exposed joint of the nearest attacker. The thing collapsed, twitching.

"Go!" he barked.

Saphira fell back beside him, nodding. "Exit vector clear."

They ran, Thessara's hand glowing faintly as she brought up rear defense. The remaining Echelon units didn't pursue immediately. They paused, almost as if assessing.

"They're not after us," Kaelen realized aloud. "They're mapping the structure. Scanning for dormant signatures."

"They'll find more than they can handle if they go deeper," Thessara said, eyes distant.

They reached the extraction chamber—a smaller node carved into the rock, where Lysenne and Ruan were already preparing the lift. The data drive pulsed in a cradle of light.

Kaelen didn't speak. He jumped onto the platform, motioning the others to follow.

The lift ascended with a deep, groaning hum, rising toward the hidden surface exit concealed beneath layers of ancient stone and cloaking tech. The ruins would be sealed once they left, buried beneath a failsafe collapse triggered by the temple's own defense scripts.

As the chamber below faded from view, Kaelen looked down—watching the shadows recede.

He didn't know what lay ahead—what more Thessara had buried within her, or what kind of beings the other "fragments" of Project Cindarion might become.

But he knew this:

The war wasn't coming.

It had already started.