Chapter 2 – The Hollow Spark

The first thing Reyan remembered…

was the silence.

Not the quiet kind, but the hollow kind — the kind that came after screams.

The kind that lingered after something had ended, but no one had admitted it yet.

He stood in the heart of the crater, dust swirling in the pale violet air.

Zone 3-Sigma was supposed to be cleared weeks ago.

But the Rift had changed its mind again. Like it always did.

He touched the ground — fractured, brittle, scorched.

Not from heat.

But from memory.

"Kaul, report," came the voice in his comm.

Commander Varun's voice was clipped, clinical.

"Visuals confirm remnants of a Rift breach. No anomalies in sight," Reyan replied, adjusting his lens-scan. "But the environment is… wrong. Temperature normal. But electromagnetic feedback is spiking."

A pause.

"Proceed with caution. If readings escalate, fall back. This is not a proving ground. Do not try to earn stripes."

Reyan didn't answer. He never did when people told him what not to do.

He stepped forward.

Every inch of this place felt unfinished — like time had peeled back partway and then forgotten to reseal.

Buildings floated in partial gravity. Shadows were frozen mid-fall.

A Rift did this… but not like the others. This was intentional.

In the distance, a figure knelt beneath a broken lightpost.

At first Reyan thought it was a cadet — another scout. But the moment he looked longer, something inside him twisted.

The figure wasn't there.

It was a projection.

No — a memory.

Burned into the Rift's fracture.

He drew closer.

The figure turned — his own face staring back at him, hollow-eyed, covered in blood.

"You came too late," the ghost whispered. "Again."

Reyan stepped back, alarm flaring.

The ghost shattered like glass — but the sound reversed, folding in on itself like time rewriting.

Then the Rift opened.

A pulse exploded through the crater — not outward, but inward — as if reality itself inhaled sharply.

And then… he was inside.

No portal. No warning. Just… transition.

The world bent around him — a city suspended in twilight, streets twisted in recursive loops.

And in the center of it all stood a spire. A black tower spiraling upward into a sky that didn't end.

He heard voices. Countless. Overlapping.

But one was clearer than the rest:

"You seek power. You don't even know why."

He spun. No one.

Another voice — younger this time.

"You want to save them. But you can't even save yourself."

And then a new voice. Older. Colder. Deeper.

"Would you give up who you are… to become what they need?"

Reyan clenched his fists. "Who are you?"

The shadows around the spire twisted. Something watched.

The voice replied, not with words — but with memory.

Suddenly, Reyan wasn't standing anymore.

He was six years old, gripping his brother Kairav's hand during an evacuation siren.

Towers falling. Screams all around. A Rift storm exploding above them like a god ripping through the sky.

He saw his mother running back into the fire to pull someone out.

She never returned.

Then, snap — age thirteen.

His father's voice: "Control it, Reyan. Emotions break people. You want to lead? Then learn to be colder than what you face."

He had obeyed. Perfectly.

The Rift collapsed those memories into dust and asked again:

"Would you give up your past — your guilt, your warmth — to become something stronger?"

Reyan spoke slowly. "If I must."

The shadows shifted.

"Then you'll be given the Hollow Spark."

A surge ignited in his chest.

He screamed.

Not from pain.

From emptiness.

Something burned inside — not flame, not light.

A spark that hollowed — taking every memory and stripping it of meaning.

Not erasing. Preserving, but dulling.

A cold clarity filled him.

When his eyes opened again, the world was white.

Outside the Rift, Commander Varun stared at the breach's edge.

Time had warped violently — six minutes passed in the outside world.

But inside, the feed showed Reyan gone for thirty-seven subjective hours.

No cadet survives that.

And then…

The Rift tore open again.

Reyan stepped out.

Silent. Eyes burning with a soft violet fire.

His pulse was steady. His expression — unreadable.

The med-officer ran up. "We need to scan—"

"Stand down," Varun said.

He looked into Reyan's eyes and saw something terrible.

Not madness. Not trauma.

Purpose.

"What did you see in there?" Varun asked.

Reyan looked past him. Toward the horizon. Toward something only he could feel.

"I saw what I needed to become."

That night, Kairav found his brother sitting alone in the barracks rooftop — wind howling around him.

"You're back," Kairav said, relief washing over his voice. "They said you went MIA. I thought—"

Reyan didn't smile.

"I'm fine."

Kairav hesitated. "You don't look fine."

Reyan glanced sideways. "You look older."

Kairav laughed nervously. "That's rich coming from you. You disappeared for six minutes and aged like three years."

Reyan didn't reply.

Kairav studied him. His brother had always been composed. But now? He was still.

Not calm. Still. Like something was no longer moving inside him.

Kairav's voice softened. "What happened in there?"

Reyan stared at the Rift storms in the distance.

"I let go of something."

Kairav frowned. "What?"

"…My hesitation."

[TWO DAYS LATER – STRATEGIC COMMAND BRIEFING]

Reyan stood alone in the circular chamber as a hologram of the Rift core rotated above.

The Council's voices echoed.

"This power you demonstrate — temporal phasing, memory suppression fields, multi-weapon conjuring — all without a stabilizer. That's impossible."

Reyan spoke quietly. "It's not power. It's resonance."

"Your readings show near-perfect alignment with Rift waves," one analyst said. "Even the top Sync Units show degradation after 20 seconds. You maintain it indefinitely. What changed?"

Reyan looked them in the eyes.

"The Rift gave me something. I don't know what it took in return. But I accepted the cost."

The Council chamber went silent.

Then a woman in white — cold and regal — leaned forward.

"We're assigning you leadership of Alpha Cadet Unit. Effective immediately. You'll train in live-Rift zones. No simulations."

"And the others?" Reyan asked.

"You'll be given two to command. The rest will follow."

She paused.

"One of them is Aarav."

Reyan tilted his head, intrigued. "The unstable one?"

"He has raw potential. But he's fragmented. You'll keep him in line."

Reyan didn't respond immediately. Then:

"Or he'll break."

[LATER — INSTRUCTOR MIRA'S LOG, PRIVATE ENTRY]

"Reyan returned with abilities no one fully understands. His records show no panic. No mental deterioration. Just… a void. Like his emotions went through a machine and came out polished. Empty, but reflective.

Aarav still feels everything. Reyan feels nothing. And both are changing faster than we can control."

[MIDNIGHT — CADET TRAINING QUARTERS]

Reyan walked past the other cadets in silence.

Saira Myles was waiting by the door.

She didn't salute. She didn't speak.

She just stared at him, eyes unreadable.

"You saw something in there, didn't you?" she finally asked.

Reyan paused. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you stopped pretending."

A faint flicker crossed his face. "Pretending what?"

"That you're human."

Reyan didn't respond. Then, softly:

"I'm more human now than I've ever been."

Saira narrowed her eyes. "That's not comforting."

He stepped past her.

But as he walked away, she whispered:

"You're wrong, Reyan. You didn't let go of hesitation. You let go of hope."

He didn't stop walking.

But something in his step faltered.

[RIFT-WATCH RECORD – 7 DAYS POST-INCIDENT]

Subject: Reyan Kaul

Observed conducting 17 successful simulations across destabilized rifts.

Zero injury reports.

Subject remains calm, lethal, and disturbingly precise.

In the shadows of the Rift, something whispered:

"He has begun to forget."

But deeper still, something else whispered back:

"No… he's only beginning to remember."

[To be Continued…]