Page 76 of Echoes From the Void

The ‘for now’ hangs between us like a death sentence. We all know corruption this aggressive doesn’t just stabilize. If we don’t find answers...

I force the thought away. “Let’s move. Every minute we waste?—”

“Is another minute that corruption has to spread,” Dorian finishes, his immortal detachment cracking slightly. “Not just in Leo. If Valerie’s using the same corruption that took Leo’s father...”

“Shadow-walk?” Matteo’s voice stays steady despite his trembling hands. Through our bond, I feel how much that control costs him.

I nod, gathering darkness around us. “Hold on. If my mother’s wards are anything like her personality, this won’t be a smooth ride.”

The shadows consume us. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sensation of falling through void-touched space. Then we emerge, stumbling, before an abandoned medical facility.

Corruption stains the outer walls like bruises on concrete, but underneath the decay, power thrums—old wards still active, still hungry. Still protecting whatever secrets lie within.

“Your mother certainly had a flair for the dramatic,” Bishop observes, Guardian marks scanning the building’s defenses. “These wards... I’ve never seen patterns this complex.”

“Can we break them?” Matteo’s shadows test the barrier, recoiling at the ancient power.

“We don’t need to.” I step forward as something pulls at my blood, my essence recognizing itself. “I think... I think we’re expected.”

The corruption covering the walls recedes at my approach, revealing pristine white surface underneath. A path clears to the main entrance as emergency lights flicker to life.

“Well that’s not ominous at all,” Dorian mutters, frost spreading beneath his feet.

Another wave of pain hits through the pack bond—Leo’s agony becoming our own. Time slips away with each corrupted heartbeat.

“Only one way forward,” I say, and cross the threshold.

The facility swallows us like a living thing, lights activating with each step. Every room holds more questions than answers—equipment I half-remember from fractured memories, screens filled with essence pattern data that makes my shadows curl in recognition.

“These readings are decades old,” Dorian moves to a control panel, his frost creeping across the screen to reveal data that makes his ancient eyes widen. “But the power signatures... they’re still active. Still running experiments.”

A crash echoes from deeper in the facility. We spin toward the sound as Matteo’s shadows rise like weapons. Bishop’s Guardian marks pulse brighter, casting eerie light on sterile walls.

“Something’s still here,” Matteo growls, positioning himself between us and the sound. His protective instincts war with the pain still pulsing through our bond from Leo.

Through our twin bond, Finn’s recognition spikes. “Not something,” he says quietly. “Someone. Can’t you feel it?”

He’s right. Beyond the hum of ancient equipment and active wards, another presence lurks. Something familiar in a way that makes my shadows writhe—like looking in a broken mirror.

Leo’s pain hits again through the pack bond, stronger this time. The facility’s lights flicker in response, as if sensing our desperation.

“This way.” I follow an instinct I don’t fully understand, letting my blood guide me. The corridors shift around us, leading deeper into the facility’s heart.

We pass rooms filled with monitoring equipment, walls covered in equations I almost recognize. Each step feels heavier than the last, like the facility itself weighs our worth. Judges if we deserve its secrets.

Then we reach a set of double doors marked “Project Genesis.”

“Frankie,” Bishop’s warning carries real fear as his Guardian marks pulse faster. “These readings... whatever’s in there, it’s powerful.”

“It’s also our only chance.” I press my palm to the scanner beside the doors, ignoring how my shadows tremble. For a moment, nothing happens.

Then my mother’s voice fills the corridor, making my heart stop:

“Welcome home, my light.”

The doors hiss open to reveal a cavernous lab. Unlike the pristine corridors, this room bears the scars of battle—scorch marks blacken the walls, shattered equipment litters the floor, and in the center...

Two massive tanks still hum with power.

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