The sharp clang of metal doors sliding open signaled their arrival at Core’s main medical facility. Kaelen barely registered the lights flashing by as the emergency personnel rushed him and Lyrian through the corridors. The metallic scent of antiseptic filled the air, cutting through the chaos. Lyrian was unconscious beside him on a stretcher, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, a haunting reminder of how close they had come to death.

“Move, move!” A medic barked.

The hospital wing came alive with activity, doctors and nurses mobilizing in an instant.

Jax and Nyra trailed behind, their faces hardened with tension. Andras walked briskly ahead, his posture rigid, issuing orders to anyone in his path. “I want a full status report on both of them. No delays!”

“Commander,” one of the medics addressed Andras, glancing between the monitors attached to Kaelen. “He’s stable, but his vitals are erratic. We’re seeing a strange fluctuation in his system.”

“Figure it out,” Andras growled, his gaze never leaving Kaelen’s pale face.

Jax, leaning against the doorframe of the emergency bay, watched the scene unfold, arms crossed. “Guess this wasn’t just another routine rescue, huh?” he muttered to Nyra.

Nyra didn’t respond immediately, her eyes fixated on Lyrian. “I knew something was off. Lyrian never goes down that easily. Whatever hit him... it was more than just a physical wound.”

Kaelen stirred on the stretcher, a soft groan escaping his lips as he fought against the weight of his own body. A nurse immediately rushed over, adjusting the monitors.

“Easy, you’re safe now.”

Safe. The word echoed in Kaelen’s mind, but it felt distant. He had never felt less safe.

“Andras…” Kaelen’s voice was barely a whisper.

Andras stepped forward, his face unreadable.

“You did well, but we’re not out of this yet. You need to rest.”

Kaelen wanted to protest, to tell him there was no time to rest. But the weight of exhaustion pressed down on him, and the words died in his throat. His vision blurred as the sounds of the hospital faded into the background.

Hours passed. The bustling energy of the hospital wing had slowed to a murmur. The emergency lights had dimmed, leaving the room bathed in a soft glow. Kaelen blinked awake, his body heavy, his mind slow to catch up. The pain in his limbs was dull, but the memories of the fight were vivid.

To his left, Lyrian lay in the bed next to him, awake but still looking worse for wear. His face was pale, dark circles under his eyes. But despite everything, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, look who’s back in the land of the living.”

Kaelen shifted in his bed, wincing slightly. “Speak for yourself. You look like death warmed over.”

“Thanks, appreciate that.” Lyrian chuckled softly before wincing at the effort. “You don’t exactly look like a million bucks yourself.”

Kaelen smirked, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

“At least we didn’t get arrested… again.”

Lyrian snorted, shaking his head.

“Small miracles, I guess. Though I think I’d prefer jail over whatever nightmare we just went through.”

Silence settled between them for a beat, both of them replaying the events in their heads. Kaelen's mind wandered to the moment the shadows had surged, the feeling of something ancient and powerful stirring within him. He pushed the thought aside for now.

“I swear, next time we’re picking the mission.” Kaelen finally said, breaking the tension.

“Deal. But only if I get veto power over anything involving explosions or getting kidnapped.”

Kaelen chuckled softly, the sound comforting in the otherwise quiet room. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was normal. Like they weren’t caught in the middle of a war between magic and technology, between light and dark.

“You think Andras is pissed?” Lyrian asked, staring up at the ceiling, a small smirk forming on his face.

“Oh, definitely! But he’s always pissed, so we’ll survive.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

A silence settled between them, heavier this time. Kaelen could feel it—the weight of everything unspoken. The battle they’d just fought, the scars they couldn’t see, and the one thing they hadn’t talked about.

The elephant in the room.

Lyrian cleared his throat, turning his head slightly toward Kaelen, his tone losing its usual sarcasm.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“So, we’re just not gonna talk about what happened back there?”

“What part of it, exactly?”

His attempt to deflect fell flat. They both knew there was only one part that mattered.

Lyrian shifted uncomfortably, grimacing as he adjusted himself on the bed.

“Come on, man. You know what I mean. The... shadows.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “That was you, right? Or, like, something inside of you?”

Kaelen sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he tried to make sense of it himself.

“I didn’t... I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I know. But it did. And I saw you, man. It wasn’t just some random outburst. That power—it’s part of you.”

Kaelen closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of Lyrian’s words sink in. He had spent his entire life running from the truth, avoiding what made him different, burying the parts of himself that felt too dangerous. But now there was no more running. Not after what had happened in that room.

“I don’t even know what it is. It’s like... something inside me just snapped. I felt the shadows, like they were alive, like they were waiting for me to command them.”

Lyrian didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his eyes never leaving Kaelen’s face.

“And the worst part was that it felt... natural. Like I was supposed to do it. But I don’t know how far it goes, or what I’m capable of.” His voice dropped even lower. “I don’t know if I can control it.”

Lyrian sat up a little, his gaze serious.

“Look, I don’t pretend to know what that was or where it came from. But I do know you. You’re not gonna let it control you. You’re too stubborn for that.”

Kaelen snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not so sure.”

“Well, I am. And hey, maybe it’s not a bad thing. I mean, you saved our asses back there.”

Kaelen shot him a look. “Barely.”

“Barely is still better than not at all.” Lyrian countered with a grin. “But Kaelen, you can’t keep ignoring this. Whatever that power is, it’s part of you now. We need to figure it out before it takes over.”

Kaelen leaned back, his thoughts swirling. He knew Lyrian was right. The shadows had always been there, lurking at the edge of his consciousness, but now they were demanding to be acknowledged. And with every passing moment, the fear grew that they might overwhelm him entirely.

“I know. But I don’t know where to start.”

Lyrian’s grin returned, albeit a little more tired. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. Plus, you’re not exactly alone in this. You’ve got Aria, Jax... Hell, even Andras. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

Kaelen allowed himself a small smile, grateful for the support, though the worry lingered. He glanced at Lyrian, who still looked pale but was at least breathing steadily now. His usually vibrant green eyes were tired, with dark circles etched beneath them.

“Thanks. But for now, maybe you should focus on staying conscious.”

Lyrian chuckled, though it was cut short by a wince.

“Fair enough. But seriously, we’re not done talking about this. You’re not getting out of it that easy.”

He paused, looking at Kaelen more intently, his brow furrowing slightly.

“There’s one more thing I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“What is it?”

Lyrian hesitated for a moment, then spoke, his voice softer but curious.

“What exactly is a Veilborne? I mean... you are one, right? Do you even know how it works? How you... became one?”

The question hung in the air between them, and Kaelen felt a pang of discomfort. He had asked himself the same thing countless times, but the answers were elusive. The Veilborne were more myth than reality to most, even to him. He had heard the stories growing up, but they had always seemed distant, like tales meant to scare children or explain the unexplainable.

“I don’t have all the answers. I didn’t even know for sure until recently.” He glanced away, as if searching for the right words.

“The Veil... it’s this barrier between worlds. Between dimensions, really. Sometimes, it thins, and when it does, things slip through. Energies, entities... things that shouldn’t be here. And sometimes, people are born in those moments. That’s what a Veilborne is.”

Lyrian blinked, absorbing the explanation.

“So, you were born during one of those... events?”

Kaelen nodded slowly. “Yeah, something like that. But it’s not just about being born at the right or wrong time. There’s something more to it. Veilborne are connected to the Veil itself, to the energies that flow through it. That’s where the... power comes from. The shadows, the darkness, all of it.”

Lyrian leaned back slightly, processing the information.

“But why you? Why now?”

Kaelen sighed, his hands gripping the edge of the bed.

“I wish I knew. The Veil... it’s unpredictable. I’ve spent my life trying to ignore it, to keep whatever connection I have buried deep. But now, with everything happening—Aether, Core, the mercenaries—it’s like the Veil is calling to me. Like I’m supposed to play some role in all of this. And I have no idea what that means.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure... whatever’s coming, we’re in this together. Veilborne or not, you’ve got people who’ve got your back.”

Kaelen’s smile was faint, but genuine. “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”

The gravity of the conversation weighing on him, but a flicker of determination sparked inside. He didn’t know what the future held, or what the shadows inside him truly wanted. But he wasn’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

Suddenly, the door creaked open softly, and Nyra stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“You two still playing the ‘who’s more beat up’ game?”

“Nyra, if you wanted to check on me, you didn’t have to pretend to be worried.” Lyrian quipped, flashing her a tired grin.

Nyra raised an eyebrow. “If I was worried, I’d have brought flowers. But since I didn’t…”

“Harsh.” Kaelen muttered, rubbing his forehead. “What’s the word from Andras?”

“He wants to debrief you both as soon as you’re fit to walk. But he knows you need time to recover.”

Kaelen exchanged a glance with Lyrian, both of them thinking the same thing: time was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

“Get some rest. Andras isn’t going anywhere. Neither are the problems we’re facing.” She hesitated briefly, her eyes softening just a touch. “Take care of yourselves. You’ve been through hell. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Lyrian offered a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll rest when I’m dead. Which, you know, could be soon at this rate.”

Nyra shot him a look, but the corners of her lips twitched slightly. “Try not to make it too soon, alright?”

“We’ll do our best. Promise.” Kaelen added.

She shook her head lightly, but there was a hint of warmth in her gaze.

“Just stay out of trouble for once.”

With that, she gave them both a small nod before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving the two in the lingering silence.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Lyrian sighed deeply, leaning back into his pillows.

“She’s right, you know.”

Kaelen didn’t answer right away. His mind was already turning, trying to piece together what had happened, what Varyk’s next move might be, and what role he was now playing in a game much larger than himself.

“You think we’re ready for what’s coming?”

Lyrian glanced over, his expression turning serious.

“Ready? Hell, I don’t think anyone’s ready. But that’s not stopping any of it from heading straight toward us.”

He leaned back, his eyes focusing on the ceiling again.

“We’ll have to make do, as usual.”

Kaelen nodded slowly, knowing full well that the storm they were caught in was only just beginning.