Chapter 13: Zeb: A Few Hours Before the Attack
The Present
Location: Leight University, The Meditation Room
I linger in the shadowed corner, watching Ravenna navigate the dream realm. Her glowing presence contrasts sharply with the dark energies she commands, a beacon amid chaos. For hours, she has remained motionless, her body still while her mind battles the chaotic Nexus.
Despite her usual intensity, she appears peaceful. Only the occasional grimace betrays her inner struggle. I know better than to interrupt a dream walker mid-journey; their task is complex, often taxing their physical form in unseen ways.
Ravenna’s skill is undeniable. It's as if she was born to command the dream realm, each movement precise, deliberate. Her mastery piques my curiosity—how could someone from the Rust Valley, a self-taught Tech wizard with no ties to the High families, wield such power? The Vessel program is reserved for those with connections, yet here she is, defying every expectation.
I step closer, kneeling beside her, the distance between us shrinking until I can feel the warmth of her presence. The air thickens, charged with an energy that prickles against my skin. Her breathing is soft, steady, yet it resonates within me like a quiet storm. The closer I get, the more I feel it—a pull that tugs at my very core, as if the shadows within me are reaching out, desperate to bridge the space between us.
There’s a magnetic pull between us, one that defies logic. Perhaps the shadow entity within me recognizes something kindred in her—a spirit entwined with potent forces, just as mine is. The thought both unsettles and intrigues me. What does it mean to find this connection in another? Is it a warning or is it a sign that I’m not as alone in this as I’ve always believed?
Or maybe my fascination is simpler: her ethereal grace and profound understanding of the forces that shape our world captivate me. But I know there’s more. I’m certain she is the dream-walker who infiltrates my dreams. It’s no coincidence that the woman before me bears the same name as the one who pleads with me to shoot her in those dreams—a curious request, especially since I’ve never needed a gun.
Fate has intertwined our paths, bringing her to me when I need her most. The unique power of a dream walker is crucial to fulfilling the ambitions instilled in me by my mother, even as she wrestled with depletion.
She spoke often of ‘Ingrid’s Gate,’ an enigmatic interdimensional gateway woven into countless myths and legends. Mother insisted the gate was real and that the battles to control it had thrust our continent into darkness.
She believed it was my destiny to shield the world from The Gate, just as my ancestor, the Shadow Progenitor—the first and perhaps the only other chosen by the Shadow entity—had done.
"Whoever controls the Gate commands reality itself," she would say, her eyes gleaming with the last of her strength as she gripped my hands tightly.
"It grants extraordinary power to those who can harness its energy and opens paths to other realms for the brave to step through. Such power should never be controlled by just one. Only a Shadow manipulator can prevent the havoc it would unleash."
Back then, I brushed off her words as the ramblings of a mind weakened by depletion. She only spoke of the Gate in those fleeting moments of lucidity we had alone, her voice eerily sharp.
Yet, as the illegal energy trade ignited a depletion crisis, I saw unsettling similarities to the dark times she often recounted.
I now believe the Gate is being reopened by those hungry for more power. It seems I’m the only one who sees the looming threat, and having a dream walker like Ravenna with me could be key to fulfilling the destiny my mother laid out for me.
The destiny to……Ravenna shifts beside me, her lips parting in a whisper so soft it barely reaches my ears. “Plunge the world into darkness for a new light to begin.”
Ravenna shifts beside me, her lips parting in a whisper so soft it barely reaches my ears. “Plunge the world into darkness for a new light to begin.”
My breath catches. Those exact words—my mother’s final warning, now slipping from Ravenna’s lips as if she’s been woven into the same cursed fate.
I lean in closer, my heart pounding, every instinct telling me to keep my distance, to guard myself from whatever force is pulling me toward her. But I can’t resist. There’s something about her—something that draws me in, that makes me need to know. My voice drops to a whisper, heavy with the weight of a thousand questions,
“Who are you, Ravenna? What do you dream of?”
The room grows darker, clouds masking the moon and casting us into deeper shadows. The space feels smaller, more intimate, something not quite right.
I stand abruptly and walk to the window, the solid wall gradually transforming into a floor-to-ceiling pane of glass. I need air, space to think, to breathe.
Below, the city is quiet under a dim glow of streetlights, the night eerily silent. No sound of students on campus, no drones in the sky—just an oppressive silence, as if the world is holding its breath.
My thoughts remain fixed on Ravenna but then a sharp buzz at my ear pulls me back to reality. I blink, the outside world crashing in as I activate my omni-lens with a thought.
Syph wants to connect blinks into view, disrupting the stillness of the moment. With a thought I connect.
"What?" I cut in, my voice cold and clipped. Her lips twitch into a frown, clearly irritated by my tone.
"There's trouble in the Left hemisphere, likely a 'Dark one'. The portals are out of commission, but division officers will get there as soon as they can. I need you to handle it," she orders,
Right on cue, alarms start wailing, bathing the room in a deep red light.
"Danger detected. All beginner and intermediate students, proceed to the nearest exit portals," blares the announcement, cutting through the sudden chaos.
A Dark One—something we haven’t seen in centuries. The creation of such a creature is nearly impossible, a perversion of Nexus energy that’s been all but forgotten in modern times. The fact that one exists means something has gone wrong.
The weight of responsibility hits me—I’m likely the only one capable of handling this.
I quickly open another window next to Syph’s feed, pulling up live footage from the Right Hemisphere’s halls. The scene is utter chaos—students are fleeing in every direction, their panic palpable.
The public portals, usually the safest escape routes, are malfunctioning, leaving most of them trapped. A few students manage to escape through private, personal portals, but the majority are left vulnerable, at the mercy of whatever is causing this nightmare.
My eyes sweep the room, locking onto the culprit—Darren fucking Jones. Of course, it’s him, his hand clamped around Claire’s throat, the arrogance of his family etched into every line of his face. I am not surprised that the Jones Family is somehow involved in this.
With a goal clear in my mind I reply crisply ready to disconnect. "I'm on it,"
"Contain the threat, Zeb. No unnecessary casualties—do you hear me?" Syph instructs sternly.
My lips curl into a smirk. We’ll see.
"Division members will back you up when they get there," she adds, then cuts the connection.
I glance at Ravenna, a twinge of guilt hitting me for breaking my promise to watch over her. But duty calls—I need to protect the University and I am sure she would be upset if anything happened to Claire. I don’t want her to be upset. The thought of it twists something deep inside me, something I can’t quite name.
I pull out my portal device, taking a deep breath. The shadows twist and coil around the device like serpents, their movements synchronized with my breath. The vortex they form is dark and impenetrable, a portal to the heart of chaos itself. As I step through, the cold grip of the shadows pulls me in, a silent promise of the battle to come
My omni-lens confirms connection with a portal receiver in the Left Hemisphere.
Without hesitation, I step through, ready for what's next.
*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
As I step out of the silent darkness, I’m immediately greeted by loud alarms and chaos. Students in the hallway hurry away from the source of danger, their fear palpable. I leave the portal open as a precaution, striding toward the chaos where the students are fleeing from. The portal’s security is tight—only Claire and I can pass through, impenetrable to the unauthorized.
With ‘The Sight’ activated, I trace the chaotic swirls of dark smoke, their erratic patterns echoing the madness of the Waning Festival. The balance of the energy fields is crumbling, and the silence from the High Ones—those sworn to protect this balance—is deafening. Curious.
I sidestep fleeing students and vault over a fallen locker, my gaze fixed on the source of the erratic energy. As I push forward, a student suddenly stops in front of me, her eyes void of emotion despite the surrounding chaos, her jaw clenched tightly. I move to pass her, dismissing her as just another under the Emo-tech’s influence, but her grip tightens on my arm. She’s strong. Too strong.
A flicker of curiosity sharpens my focus as I notice a dark patch blooming in her pupil, spreading like ink in water. She isn’t channeling the Nexus—something else, something malevolent, is taking hold. I recognize the signs immediately, but I feel no urge to intervene—only to observe.
Her grip slackens as her eyes turn fully black, a twisted smile creeping across her lips as she caresses her own skin. I remain motionless, studying the grotesque transformation from bliss to rage.
“A weak and worthless vessel,” she hisses as her face begins to sink in, her skin paling to an almost deathly white.
I watch dispassionately as her life-force drains away, her body crumpling under the strain of a failed integration. Another weak vessel—nothing more.
“You would have been the perfect Shadow manipulator,” she finally murmurs, her voice fading as her eyes return to their normal hue. Her expression is blank, lifeless, as she breathes her last breath.
If Dark Ones are truly emerging, an energy crisis is the least of our worries. Without breaking stride, I step over the student’s lifeless body, my focus already shifting to the source of the disturbance ahead. There’s no time to linger—the real threat is still at large.
I spot Darren ahead, his energy wild and erratic, colder than the shadows around him. His eyes are darker than the night, veins bulging black with the Nexus energy that pulses within him.
I see his life-force—streaks of light—being pulled out, consumed by the dark tendrils of the Nexus as they slowly feed into Claire’s body. Her eyes are pitch black, absorbing his life-force with a Soul shift. A terrifying and fascinating technique.
I act quickly. With a wave of my hand, I command the shadows that fill the room. With a mere thought, the shadows obey, coiling into a spear that flies with unerring precision, pinning Darren to the wall. The spear yanks free and floats beside its master.
My breath hitches as the cold presence of the Shadow entity slithers through my mind whispering promises of power if I just let go—if I just let it in. I clench my teeth and force it back into submission with practiced ease. To lose focus would mean surrendering myself to the darkness entirely, becoming nothing more than a puppet for this ancient force—a fate worse than death.
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Darren tries to move, but I barely need to think—the shadows obey, thickening into chains that slam him back against the wall. He groans, blood bubbling up as he grins, his teeth stained crimson.
I glance at Claire, lying bruised and bleeding on the floor. Despite the physical assault and the strain of the Soul shift, she’s still alive, her eyes dazed but determined. She’s strong. Strong enough to make it to the portal. I send her to safety, sharpening my focus on the task at hand.
I step closer to Darren, brushing his hair away from his eyes with deliberate care. The entity’s influence is clear in the void that stares back at me—dark, hungry, relentless. His cheeks have hollowed, the skin stretched tight over sharp bones. Whatever power he’s channeling is devouring him, siphoning away his vitality with every passing second. An almost perfect integration.
Tutting, I say, "Darren, Darren. What have you been up to this time?"
"Getting handsy, Shadow. We should get to know each other first," he mocks.
"Not my type," I reply, my voice laced with sarcasm as I study the entity wearing Darren’s face. There’s a method to this madness, but first, I need to know—what exactly am I dealing with?
“Who are you?” I compel, my tone as cold as the shadows binding him.
Darren sneers. "Is that the best you’ve got?"
"You’re not wrong—mindshifting isn’t my specialty." With a flick of my finger, the spear beside me splits into countless smaller spears, each one hovering inches from his face.
"But shadows? Those, I command." I send the small spears to strike the closing wound from the previous attack. They twist in unison, digging into the flesh before yanking free, seamlessly reforming into a single, long spear.
He growls in agony, “You wouldn’t dare cross the Jones family, Shadow.”
I raise an eyebrow, allowing a cold smile to curl my lips.
“The Jones family? I’m shaking—really.” My voice is thick with sarcasm as I watch him clutch his bleeding wound, his bravado fading as the reality of his situation sinks in.
The wounds begin to close, but I don’t miss the way his body is shrinking, his muscles withering as if the very act of healing is consuming him from within. The strain of controlling the vessel and repairing the damage is draining his life force, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self.
“Once the body depletes, your essence will fade with it, becoming nothing more than a whisper in the ethereal realms,” I say, my tone leaving no room for contest.
“But you can avoid that—just give in to me.”
One of the small spears drifts closer to his eyes, and for the first time, I see fear flicker in them. It’s fleeting, but it’s there—a crack in his resolve.
“Last chance. Who—or what—are you?”
"Names are meaningless, Shadow. But know this—we’ve found the cracks between your worlds. And soon, we’ll tear them wide open and drown your reality in our darkness." Darren hisses, a sick satisfaction in his voice, despite the fear in his eyes.
“The true black raven will guide us.”
His words strike a nerve, sending a chill down my spine. We. Dark Ones. Sentient energy that flows within the Nexus. Their presence marks the start of another dark age—just as Mother predicted. The weight of her words presses down on me, heavier now than ever before. For a moment, the fear almost slips through, but I force it back, sharpening my focus.
"In that case, I have to destroy you," I reply coldly, my resolve hardening like steel.
With a thought, the spear beside me inches closer to his forehead, poised to strike. A swift pierce through—he won’t be able to heal from that.
As Darren’s body withers further, his skin pulling taut over his bones, I catch a glimmer of desperate resolve in his eyes. A low, guttural sound escapes his lips, and suddenly, the very air around us begins to vibrate. The windows lining the hallway tremble, then crack, a web of fractures racing across the glass.
A split second later, the glass shatters, exploding outward with a deafening crash, sending razor-sharp shards hurtling toward me like a deadly rain. Each shard glints with lethal intent, reflecting the dim light in a way that makes them seem almost alive. The danger is immediate, the threat undeniable—there’s no time to lose.
In an instant, I channel the shadows, commanding them to coil and expand into a protective barrier behind me. The shards slam into the shield with a series of sharp pings, deflected just in time. But in that split second of distraction, Darren seizes the opportunity. He strains against the shadow chains, his body convulsing as he draws on every ounce of strength to break free.
I whirl around, but it’s too late—he's already torn himself from the restraints, his breath ragged and triumphant. His body continues to shrink, the energy drain evident in his hollowed features, but the fierce determination in his darkened eyes tells me he’s far from defeated.
Darren’s hands snap forward, and with a surge of desperate power, the ceiling collapses in an instant. I barely manage to throw up a shadow shield as beams crash down around me, splintering and scattering debris. He’s on me before I can fully recover, sharp objects whirling through the air with lethal intent. I dodge, my shadows barely keeping pace with his onslaught. Despite the chaos, I can see it—his strength is failing, his strikes more desperate, more erratic.
He avoids flinging heavy objects at me, clearly conserving what little energy he has left. His face is sinking in, his skin tight against his bones. For a moment, I’m almost impressed by his resolve—the entity within him is clinging to life with everything it has.
“I am not going back to the darkness,” he hisses, panting as he puts everything he has into a punch aimed at my face.
I catch it easily, a cold smile curling my lips. "Oh, I’m sure the darkness missed you terribly."
With a flick of my wrist, I toss Darren back, slamming him to the floor, and chain him down with shadows. His mouth opens to protest, but I silence him with a shadow gag. "Let’s end this on a quiet note, shall we?"
With a wave of my hand, I hurl a spear, aiming straight for his eyes.
“Zeb! Stop!” A female voice commands.
The spear halts mid-air, the tip trembling inches from Darren’s forehead. I hear the crunch of broken glass underfoot as footsteps approach. I don’t need to turn to know who’s behind me—the authoritative tone, the measured gait. Emma Jones. Darren’s mother and the High Commander. Her presence sends a ripple of tension through the air, but I keep my focus sharp, unyielding.
"As much as I’d love to finish this, it seems mama is here to save you. Lucky you."
Behind her, five high-ranking division members stride into the room, their movements precise and controlled. Two immediately step in front of her, hands hovering over their hover guns, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. With a slight tilt of her head, she gestures toward Darren, and the others rush to the dying figure.
“You dare harm the child of a High One?” she says, her tone as sharp as the blade of a knife.
I scoff, “Harm? I was just interrogating him”
My gaze doesn’t waver "Your boy is lost, to a Dark One. The entity in him needs to be destroyed. The only way is his end.”
“You presume to lecture me on matters you barely comprehend?” Emma’s voice drips with disdain as she strides toward the struggling Darren.
“Your ignorance is as dangerous as your arrogance, Shadow manipulator.”
You’re dismissed,” she commands with a flick of her hand.
Her cold gaze fixes on him, and for a moment, I catch a flicker of something deeper—disappointment, perhaps pain—before her expression hardens once more.
“You disappoint me,” she says icily, her words so frigid that even I feel the chill. The Jones family is known for their strength and unyielding nature—qualities Darren has never truly embodied.
“Secure the building,” Emma orders without missing a beat, her eyes scanning the depleted body of one of Darren’s victims. “Ensure the surviving students find a safe portal.”
Now weak enough to be handled, I release the shadow chains. The division members move swiftly, their binding devices clicking into place around Darren with a precise hum. The small orbs whirr to life, generating an invisible shield that envelops him. He thrashes, letting out a guttural growl, but it’s futile—he’s contained.
“You’re welcome,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than anyone else. There’s no room for pleasantries—not when the shadows still linger, and the real battle is yet to come.
As I exit the room, the shadows trailing behind me like a dark cloak, I activate my omni-lens with the intention of calling Syph. She’s a High One, which means she can’t be trusted. But she’s also my sister, and right now, the only one who can help—aside from Dad.
Syph responds to my call, but denies access to her visual feed. Typical. I go straight to the point.
“It was a Dark One.”
“Hm,” she murmurs, acknowledging what she’s already confirmed.
“That means someone’s found a way to bypass the law of consent,” she deduces, her voice sharp.
“Take Emotech offline,” I recommend, my tone firm. "It’s the only tech capable of accessing the human soul. Once the user accepts the terms, it’s essentially consent.”
There’s a pause. Syph stays silent for a beat too long, and I can almost see the gears turning in her mind as she weighs the implications. Doubt flickers in her voice when she finally speaks, “What about Father?” The question is cautious, laced with the awareness that he won’t be easily swayed.
I sense her hesitation, the way she’s torn between her duty and the potential backlash.
“You’re the High Educator, Syph. Your school was in danger—you have the power to make the call. Father will respect you for your quick thinking,” I suggest, knowing full well I’m pushing her into a corner. My words are calculated, designed to nudge her toward the decision I need her to make.
"If they’ve found a way to bypass the law, it means they can manipulate any mind that’s ever agreed to the terms—turning Emotech users into unwitting vessels," I add, letting urgency seep into my voice. The stakes are clear, and I can feel her processing the weight of them, the silence on the other end like a taut wire ready to snap.
The pause stretches out, and I almost wonder if she’ll refuse. But then Syph speaks, her tone cautious but decisive,
“You’re right. We can’t take that risk. I’ll initiate a temporary shutdown of Emotech within the university perimeter while we investigate.”
“That’s the spirit,” I reply, a slight smirk tugging at my lips.
“Maybe I’ll start calling you the ‘Quick Thinker’ instead of the ‘High Educator.’”
“Don’t push your luck, Zeb,” she shoots back
“And remember, this is just a precaution. If we don’t find evidence to support your theory, the tech goes back online.”
“Fair enough. But you know I’m always right,” I say, conceding the point for now. I know this is the best concession I’ll get from her.
“But mark my words, Syph—this is bigger than just a precaution. Something’s brewing, and if we don’t act fast, it’s going to boil over.”
Another pause, this one shorter, and then Syph’s voice softens slightly, a rare crack in her usual armor. “Be careful, Zeb. There’s more at stake here than just your usual games.”
“I always am,” I reply, the smirk fading as the gravity of the situation settles back onto my shoulders. The weight of it is almost suffocating, but I push it down. There’s work to be done.
She disconnects without another word, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the darkened hallway ahead. I pocket the omni-lens and open a portal to the meditation room, the shadows swirling around me like a cloak of night.
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I walk through the portal to find Ravenna right where I left her, and Claire lying beside her, her lower body encased in flexi armor as she channels the Nexus to heal her wounds. Her breaths are deep and erratic, each one a struggle against the pain.
Sensing my presence, Claire asks, “What the fuck is going on, Zeb?” Her voice is shaky, still distraught from her encounter. Fear lingers in her eyes, barely concealed behind her confusion.
“Why was Darren like that? Is he okay?”
“He became a Dark One, taken over by lost dreamwalkers desperate to find a way back to the physical realm,” I reply, settling into a lotus position beside Ravenna. I glance at Claire, noting the shock on her face. “He may or may not be alive, depending on what the division does.”
Claire’s eyes widen in horror, her breath catching in her throat as she slowly sits up. “A Dark One?” she whispers, her voice trembling. Her hands begin to shake, and she clenches them into fists, her knuckles turning white as the reality of it sinks in.
“But… how? Darren, he seemed normal. He wasn’t supposed to—”
“Nothing is as it seems in this city, Claire,” I say, my gaze fixed on the mirror opposite me. The weight of the situation presses down on me, but I keep my voice steady. “There’s something wrong with the energy field. The Waning between the realms is being used to create an imbalance.”
I pause, letting the gravity of my words sink in, watching as Claire’s expression shifts from confusion to dawning horror. “It’s no longer just speculation. The incident at the festival, and today—they’re all connected. Dark Ones are slipping through the cracks, desperate to reach our realm. And they’re dangerous.”
Claire’s eyes widen further, fear flickering in their depths as she begins to grasp the scale of the threat we face. Her hand trembles slightly as she wipes a bead of sweat from her brow. “But why now? Why is this happening?”
I recall Darren’s chilling words, ‘The true Black Raven will guide us.’
I take a deep breath, feeling the shadows tighten around me, their cold presence a stark reminder of the power I wield. “I don’t have all the answers, but what I do know is that this was done with intention. Someone powerful is behind it.”
With my eyes still closed, I inhale deeply, sensing the shadows in the room enclosing around me, like a protective shroud. “I need to bring Ravenna back. The ethereal realms are no longer safe. If she hasn’t found the location of the recycling center, we’ll have to find your father another way.” I add, my tone resolute.
I also need her to finish her energy tracking device—maybe we can find the source of this chaos. Maybe I can find the gate.
Claire bites her lip, clearly torn between her fear for Ravenna and the overwhelming situation we find ourselves in.
“Can’t you just wake her up?” she asks.
“No, it’s too dangerous to yank a traveling soul. It could splinter,” I reply, my tone firm but understanding.
Claire nods slowly, her gaze shifting between me and Ravenna. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, the puzzle pieces clicking into place, but not forming a clear picture. She opens her mouth, as if to ask another question, but then her expression suddenly changes—her eyes widen, and she clutches her head as if struck by a sudden realization.
“Zeb… someone is calling me,” she says, her voice low and uncertain, like she’s struggling to believe it herself. She falls silent, her focus turning inward, her breathing shallow as she searches for the source of the voice.
I watch her closely, my curiosity piqued but tempered by caution. After a few tense moments, her eyes fly open, now filled with a new sense of urgency.
“It’s Simon, my brother. He found his way to the city and needs a way into the university,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush, a mix of relief and fear in her voice as she tries to make sense of this new development.
I remember Simon—barely clinging to life amidst the chaos of the Waning Festival after failing the trials. His coming here without an invitation is a disaster waiting to happen. My plans to find Ravenna momentarily paused, I stand up, my mind already calculating the risks.
“Does he know what he’s walking into?” I ask, keeping my tone even as I weigh the situation.
“I don’t think he understands, Zeb. He just... he just needs help,” Claire replies, her voice shaky. The desperation in her eyes is hard to ignore, but I push it aside, focusing on the task at hand.
His coming here uninvited is suicide. I can already foresee the complications—he’s a liability we can’t afford, but I know there’s no avoiding this. Pausing on my plans to bring back Ravenna, I make my decision.
“We’ll deal with it,” I say, more to myself than to Claire, as I move towards the portal. I glance back at Ravenna, making sure she’s stable, before I step through.
As I prepare to retrieve Simon, a sense of unease settles in my gut. I know this will only complicate things further, but there’s no turning back now. The shadows tighten around me as I focus on the portal, feeling the weight of what’s to come.