Corrupted Bonds-Chapter 66: Echoes of the Forgotten

The atmosphere in the command deck was tense, heavy with the lingering exhaustion from the rift battles.

Evelyn, Ava, and Sharon Tan were hunched over the data terminals, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of the monitors.

Their eyes were bloodshot, yet determined, the gravity of their situation pressing down on them like a storm cloud that refused to break.

Evelyn stood closest to the central screen, a hand running through her hair as she scanned through encrypted files.

Her brow furrowed as new data poured in, but nothing seemed to align, nothing made sense.

She could feel the presence of something behind the scenes—something manipulating the flow of information, always just out of reach.

"There's something off," Sharon said, her voice tight as she scrolled through the latest system logs. "It's like the system is changing itself as we speak."

Ava crossed her arms, her gaze locked on the screen. "The data's been manipulated. It's more than just Lucian's involvement—it's... as if someone—or something—has been tampering with it for years."

Evelyn nodded slowly, her expression hardening. "We can't keep doing this. We're chasing shadows, and the rift isn't going to wait for us to catch up."

Sharon leaned closer, her fingers gliding over the keys. "This isn't just about Lucian's connection to the rifts anymore. It's something far worse. We need to look at the bigger picture."

Ava stepped forward. "We need answers about Project Veil. The system wasn't designed just for the rifts. There's something more—something hidden. And we need to know why Kira's signal from Site V9 went dark. She vanished. Just like that."

The mention of Kira's disappearance sent a shiver through the room.

Kira, who had once been a promising member of their team, had suddenly become a ghost in the system, her presence wiped out entirely. It wasn't just a loss—it was as if someone had erased her from the very fabric of their reality.

Evelyn clenched her fists at her sides, her jaw tight with frustration. "We can't keep running into dead ends. The system's pulse is shifting. We can feel it. We need to understand its origin."

The low hum of the system reverberated through the room, barely audible, but enough to send a ripple of unease through the team. Sharon stared at the terminal, her fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard, decoding more redacted files.

"Project Veil was supposed to be wiped," Sharon murmured, almost to herself. "But here it is. And it's... changing."

A small flicker appeared on the screen. A new line of code, buried deep within the archives. The words were barely legible, but Sharon managed to isolate them.

[RIFT SYNCHRONIZATION REQUIRED. INITIATING SELF-CORRECTION... PROCEDURE INCOMPLETE]

Ava and Evelyn exchanged uneasy glances, their faces grim. The system's message didn't make sense. It wasn't supposed to be responding this way. The process was unfinished—the system was becoming aware of its own failure.

"We need more time," Ava said, her voice strained. "But time's running out. The rift energy is growing stronger, and we don't know what will happen next."

Meanwhile, in the quiet of the hospital room, Rowan stood vigil beside Lucian's bed, his fingers gently brushing against the unconscious man's hand.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, but it was a fragile sound—one that Rowan clung to.

Lucian's vitals fluctuated, still weak, still unsure. His resonance was there, but it was fractured, the pieces of his mind scattered like fragments of a broken mirror.

Rowan's eyes never left Lucian's face, his expression drawn and weary.

Lucian's recovery was slow, and each moment felt like a precious, fragile thread pulling them further from the darkness. But Rowan knew there was still a deep well of uncertainty that hovered over them, threatening to pull Lucian back into the void. His role as Lucian's guide had always been about stability, but this was different—this was emotional tethering on an entirely new level.

"You're not alone," Rowan whispered, his voice barely above a breath. His thumb ran over Lucian's knuckles, tracing the rhythm of his heartbeat. "I'll bring you back. I promise."

But even as he whispered these words, Rowan couldn't shake the feeling that something darker was moving beneath the surface, something that had nothing to do with Lucian's body or mind.

The system, with its strange messages and hidden motives, was pulling them into a web they couldn't untangle.

Back in the command deck, the team was feeling the weight of their shared uncertainty. They were supposed to have the answers by now, but the deeper they dug, the more questions arose.

"I think it's time we look deeper into the system's foundation," Evelyn said, her voice steady but laced with concern. "We need to understand how Lucian's connection to the rifts is affecting everything."

Sharon's eyes narrowed. "And why it's rewriting itself. There's something it's hiding, something we still haven't found."

"We won't stop until we do," Ava said, the steel in her voice betraying the exhaustion that had settled in. "We need to find Kira. We need to find out what happened to her."

The silence that followed was thick, charged with the urgency of their situation. No one spoke for a moment, the magnitude of their discovery settling heavily on their shoulders.

But beneath it all, a quiet fear lingered—one that had nothing to do with the rifts themselves. The fear that they were being manipulated, that the system they had come to rely on was slowly becoming a force of its own, a power that no one had truly understood.

As the team returned to their work, Rowan's attention never wavered from Lucian. His voice was steady, even as his heart raced in sync with the rise and fall of Lucian's chest.

"You'll wake up soon, Lucian. I'll be here. Always."

Lucian lay still on the bed, his body healed but his mind still fractured. The once vibrant Lucian was a shadow of himself, lying motionless under the sterile lights. His resonance flickered weakly, like a dim flame trying to stay alight in the darkness.

Rowan was by his side, his hand resting gently on Lucian's, as if he could will his strength back into the other man with his touch alone.

He hadn't left Lucian's side for hours, his tired eyes fixed on the man who had been more than just an Esper to him. The connection they shared, once so powerful, now felt like a thread, thin and fragile. But it was still there.

Every slight fluctuation in Lucian's vitals was met with a surge of hope, then doubt. Was this enough? His heart ached as he tried to push through the exhaustion, desperate to anchor Lucian back to reality.

A faint shift in Lucian's hand broke the silence. Rowan's breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward, his eyes searching Lucian's face, hoping for any sign of recognition.

But nothing came.

Rowan's shoulders slumped in quiet defeat, though he didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he tightened his grip, as if his guiding resonance could reach deeper, tethering Lucian's mind to the present.

"You're still in there," Rowan whispered softly, his voice barely audible.

Just as the weight of his words settled in the room, the door creaked open softly, and Quinn entered, followed by Ari. Their faces were drawn, still bearing the marks of the rift battles, but they came with the quiet strength of those who had faced impossible odds and survived.

Ari, always brimming with energy, was unusually quiet as she stepped in, her eyes softening at the sight of Rowan and Lucian. She walked over to Rowan's side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch warm and grounding.

"How's he doing?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if not to disturb the fragile peace in the room.

Rowan's eyes flickered up to her, the pain in his gaze unspoken but palpable. "Still not awake. His vitals are... fluctuating."

Quinn stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a quiet concern. "It's not over, Rowan," Quinn said, his voice low but firm. "You're doing everything you can. We all are."

Rowan didn't reply immediately. Instead, his gaze returned to Lucian, and he tightened his grip on his hand again, the pulse of their shared connection thrumming faintly in his chest.

His voice was thick with emotion. "I can't lose him, Quinn. We've lost so much already. I can't—"

Ari stepped forward, her eyes soft and understanding. She placed a hand on his arm, giving it a firm squeeze. "You won't lose him. He's a fighter, just like you. We all know what he's capable of."

Quinn nodded, his gaze shifting to Lucian with a quiet reverence. "We've all been through too much to fall apart now. Lucian needs you, but he also needs us. Don't carry this alone, Rowan."

The quiet strength in their voices wasn't lost on Rowan, though he still felt the weight of his responsibility. But he knew, deep down, that they were right. Lucian needed him, but the team needed to be strong too.

"I'm not alone," Rowan murmured, almost to himself, the words lingering in the room. He felt a wave of gratitude for their presence, but it didn't erase the anguish that gnawed at him. He had always been the anchor, the one who kept everyone grounded. But now, with Lucian in this state, he was the one who needed holding.

The door opened again, and Evelyn entered, her face weary but resolute. She had been working tirelessly on the system, trying to understand what was happening, and it showed in the lines on her face and the slight tension in her shoulders. Yet when she saw Lucian, her gaze softened.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said quietly, walking over to stand beside them. "How's he doing?"

Rowan lifted his head and met her gaze. "He's still... not here. His vitals are fluctuating, but it's like his mind is still lost somewhere."

Evelyn exhaled deeply, her brow furrowed as she studied Lucian. "It's not just his body that's broken," she said. "The rift, his abilities—they've torn him apart, Rowan. We need to keep him tethered, but it's not enough."

Ari stepped forward, placing a hand on Evelyn's arm. "We'll help you with that. We'll help bring him back. But you're not alone, Rowan. We'll all be here."

The reassurance was grounding, but Rowan's gaze didn't waver from Lucian's still form. He felt the weight of the unspoken fear—that Lucian might never fully return. That fear lingered in his chest, but he couldn't give up. Not now. Not when Lucian had given everything for the team.

As if on cue, Lucian's fingers twitched again, the faintest movement. Rowan's breath caught, his heart pounding.

"Lucian..." Rowan whispered, his voice trembling. He leaned closer, the pulse of their connection stronger now, the tether between them beginning to hum with renewed strength.

The beeping on the heart monitor quickened, though Lucian's eyes remained closed. Rowan's hope sparked, just for a moment.

But the fear still lingered. Was it enough? Would Lucian truly return?

—

The air was heavy in the command deck, the tension palpable. Outside, the skies over Zarek HQ remained bleak, the dim glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the building. Within the facility, the hum of machinery and quiet murmurings of the team were the only sounds breaking the oppressive silence.

The holographic map of the rift sites had shifted, with new markers flashing—yet again, Project Veil was far from their reach, the layers of encryption deepening with each passing day.

Lucian's condition had taken precedence, but the war within the rift was far from over. As the team reconvened in the command deck, the weight of the mission hung over them like an ever-pressing storm.

Rowan finally stepped away from Lucian's bedside, the silent promise he had made to him still echoing in his heart.

His footsteps were heavy as he entered the room, his presence quiet but undeniable. The team was gathered around the central table, the usual chatter absent as everyone processed their personal exhaustion and the heavy burden of the mysteries unfolding around them.

Ari and Quinn were already seated, their eyes heavy with the weight of what had transpired, but their focus was sharper than ever. They had both been through hell and back, yet there was something in the air now that made even their usual resolve flicker for a moment.

Quinn was the first to look up as Rowan entered, his tired eyes softening. "How's Lucian?" he asked, his voice steady despite the evident concern.

Rowan's gaze flickered over the group, his face lined with exhaustion. "Still not fully awake. There's some progress, but it's slow. I'm keeping him tethered, but it's a delicate balance."

Ari sat forward, her brow furrowed. "We'll need to keep up the resonance synchronization," she said, her voice almost mechanical, but her eyes were far from impassive. "The rift's influence is still present, even if we've closed the active sites. We can't afford to lose the connection."

Rowan nodded, but the exhaustion weighed heavily on him. He had never felt this emotionally drained, as if the weight of Lucian's fate was a physical force pressing on him from all sides. It felt as though every inch of him was tied to Lucian, his very soul bound to the fractured mind of the one person he had vowed to protect.

As the silence stretched on, Evelyn entered the room, her pace quick but measured, her face etched with concern but also a deep focus. She moved to the table and took a seat, joining the rest of the team.

"We need to talk about Kira," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. The mention of Kira's name sent a chill through the room—her disappearance was an unanswered puzzle that lingered in the background of their minds.

Rowan's gaze hardened. "What happened to her? Why can't we find her?"

Evelyn's expression was unreadable. "Her signal from Site V9 went dark. But it's not just that. The system's logs are redacted, and there's evidence of tampering. Whatever she encountered in the rift... it wasn't just her abilities or her Esper resonance that was affected. It's as if she was erased from the system entirely."

Sharon, who had been reviewing the system's data, looked up at that moment. "It's not just a glitch. Someone or something is actively preventing us from finding her. It's like the system itself is protecting something—or hiding it."

Quinn leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "We need to find her. She was key in the early stages of our investigations. Whatever happened to her, it's connected to Lucian. We can't afford to lose any more pieces of the puzzle."

Ari's voice was sharp. "We've been working with incomplete information from the start. Project Veil, the rift sites, Lucian's condition—all of it points to something bigger. And Kira's disappearance is too convenient."

Evelyn folded her arms, her fingers tapping gently on her elbow as she processed the information. "We'll continue digging. We have to get access to the redacted files. But we're running out of time. The rifts are still active—despite the team's success at closing them—and the corruption is spreading faster than we anticipated. The next wave could be far worse."

Rowan's exhaustion was becoming palpable now. He stood from his seat, his gaze flickering toward the doors that led to Lucian's hospital room. "We're not just fighting the rifts. We're fighting something we don't understand. Lucian's power—his connection to the system—it's all part of this. And the system is fighting back."

Ari stood up as well, her tone insistent. "Lucian's recovery isn't just about him. If we don't stabilize him soon, the rifts will start to tear apart more than just space. We need him."

Rowan's voice dropped to a near whisper, his eyes unwavering. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Ari placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch light but grounding. "We'll do it together. But right now, we need the system to give us answers. And fast."

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The tension in the room was thick, but beneath it, there was a sense of unspoken unity. They were more than just a team—they were a family, bound together by the chaos of the rifts, and each of them knew that they couldn't afford to stand alone anymore.

The conversation shifted to Project Veil, its dark origins, and its connection to Lucian. Sharon, typing furiously at the terminal, uncovered another fragmented piece of the encrypted code.

"I think I've found something." Sharon's voice was steady, but there was a spark of excitement beneath her calm exterior. "The system's been trying to hide the true origin of Project Veil. But if I'm right, the encryption's breaking down. We might have the chance to finally see the full picture."

Evelyn leaned forward. "What do you mean by 'breaking down'?"

"Not fully, but it's starting to leak information," Sharon explained, her eyes scanning the screen. "We'll need time to decode the rest. But... we're getting closer. I can feel it."

The room fell silent as they absorbed her words. They were on the verge of something important, but the stakes had never been higher. With Lucian's recovery hanging in the balance and Kira's disappearance still a mystery, they were playing a dangerous game of time.

Rowan turned to Ari and Quinn, his voice firm. "We're not stopping until we find Kira, fix this system, and bring Lucian back. No matter what it takes."

The team nodded, their shared resolve solidifying in the quiet tension of the room. They were a family, and they were in this together. The path ahead was uncertain, but they would face it as one.