[Image: Under a stormy sky, Becca with long red hair, black robe, glowing softly, kneels in a rocky canyon—Carla in a future tunic, 5D glow, dark hair, weaves golden threads—Rafe in a red medic cloak, rugged build, stands guard—OAK Nexus rift hums, rogue shadows lurk—vivid, gritty] Becca knelt in the canyon, red hair whipping under a stormy sky. Her black robe clung damp against her skin, glowing faintly from the spark she’d fought to reclaim—scars from a brutal attack still raw, but healing. Rain streaked her face as she pressed her hands to the earth—energy pulsed below, wild and warm. Carla crouched beside her—her tunic shimmered with a strange light, dark hair plastered wet—golden threads spun from her fingers, bending time’s flow. “Feel it,” Carla said, voice cutting through the thunder. Rafe stood guard—red medic cloak flapping, rugged frame braced—eyes scanning for trouble. Shadows moved in the distance—rogues closing in. Lightning cracked—Becca’s glow flared—memories surged, pain twisting into strength. She’d been broken at the lake, but not finished—light burned inside her now. Carla’s threads snapped tight—stitching a rift open, golden and jagged. “They’re coming,” Rafe growled, fists clenched—rogues in black tunics stalking closer, no bracelets marking them, just General Grant’s men. Becca stood—spark steady, pulling energy up from the ground. “Not this time,” she whispered—resolve steeling her bones. Rafe charged—red cloak a blur, slamming a rogue into rock—a loud crunch echoed. Carla wove faster—threads lashing, snaring another—the rift hummed loud. Becca thrust her hands forward—light blasted out, a rogue staggering blind. Three against five—the odds were tight—but power flowed through them. Becca’s spark pulled harder—time bending—rogues faltering—her fight now. A rogue swung a club high—Rafe ducked—countered with a fist—blood sprayed. Carla’s threads tripped another—the rift swallowed its scream. Becca glowed brighter—light forging a shield—rogue blows bouncing off. “Back!” she yelled—energy spiking—rogues reeling. Thunder rolled—the rift pulsed—they weren’t breaking her again. Rain eased—the storm faded. Becca’s shield held—rogues scattering—the rift shrinking. Carla sank back—threads dimming—“We held.” Rafe wiped blood—“Barely.” Becca stood tall—spark blazing. The energy settled—rogues gone—she’d forged something new inside herself—stronger now. Lightning flashed one last time—the canyon went quiet. Becca touched her robe—glow steady—“For us,” she said. Carla nodded—Rafe grunted. The ground hummed beneath them—energy steadying. They’d fight on—but today, they stood together—forged anew under the stormy sky.