Blood and Sparks: The Edge of Power
Chapter 24: The Spark in the Abyss

Chapter 24: The Spark in the Abyss

The darkness lunged.

Not like a beast. Not like a predator.

But like a tide.

It didn’t strike, didn’t lash out—it pulled, drew, folding over the edges of reality like a void dragging us into itself. The structure—the thing in front of us—wasn’t waiting anymore. It was moving, bleeding into the space around us, its glow sharpening into something more than just light.

It wasn’t a building.

It wasn’t a wound.

It was something trying to become.

Liv dug her fingers into my arm, her sparks flaring, meeting mine in a chaotic tangle of kinetic energy. My rifle hummed, the charge surging, but it didn’t fire. The trigger was locked—jammed—not because it was broken, but because the Hollow didn’t allow weapons here.

It was rewriting the rules.

And we were running out of time.

"Move!" Liv shouted.

She shoved me forward, breaking the paralysis I hadn’t realized had settled over me. My boots scraped against the stone, the world shifting beneath me—not solid, not liquid, not real.

The structure—the Heart of the Wound—shuddered.

And then—

It spoke.

Not in words. Not in whispers.

Not like the voices before.

This was a command.

Not spoken. Given.

Not asked. Forced.

"You are already ours."

The words weren’t sound.

They were inside me.

My muscles locked, my vision blurred, static bleeding across my system alerts. Liv gasped, her own sparks short-circuiting, flickering out for half a second—just enough time for the Hollow to push in.

It wasn’t trying to consume us.

It was trying to make us part of it.

A conversion.

A merging.

"Fight it, Kai!" Liv’s voice barely cut through the hum rattling my skull.

System Alert: Cognitive Disruption Detected.

Host Integrity: 59% and Falling.

Structural Contamination: Critical.

Psionic Override: 72% Synchronization.

No.

No.

I forced my fingers to move, every muscle fighting against itself, my arms heavy, like something had taken control of my own limbs.

A parasite wearing my skin.

I forced my foot forward, then another, each movement a battle. The Hollow was inside me now, threading through my thoughts like a disease.

I felt it.

Saw it.

A thousand shattered memories that weren’t my own.

It wasn’t always this.

The Hollow.

The Gate.

The Heart.

It had been something else.

I saw flashes—not through my own eyes, but through the bones of time, through something deeper than memory.

A city, vast and golden, where the sky stretched endlessly, where towers shimmered like glass catching firelight.

A war, old and forgotten, against things without names.

A choice.

One that had broken the world.

The sky cracking open, the golden city turning to rot, the people—not dying, but becoming something less.

Something like this.

Not gone. Hollowed.

Not lost. Rewritten.

Like what it was trying to do to me.

My breath hitched.

I was slipping into it.

Becoming part of it.

NO.

My pulse slammed back into my chest, my vision snapping into focus.

I wasn’t them.

I wasn’t this.

I forced my mind to center, to pull back from the edges, to remember who I was.

I was Kai.

I was not theirs.

The Hollow pushed harder. It knew I was resisting.

System Override Initiated.

Defensive Protocols Engaged.

Kinetic Surge Available.

Yes.

I grabbed it.

The charge exploded through me, raw, searing, every nerve lighting up like a thousand volts surging through dead circuits.

My body snapped back into mine.

My rifle fired.

BOOM.

The shot wasn’t kinetic.

It wasn’t physical.

It was me.

The Hollow recoiled.

For the first time since I had entered its grasp—it flinched.

The pressure cracked, just enough for Liv’s sparks to ignite again. She snapped her hands forward, the electricity flaring so bright it turned the world white.

And in that moment—

We ran.

The ground wasn’t real, but it was solid enough to carry us forward.

The darkness didn’t break away.

It followed.

The Heart didn’t collapse.

It pursued.

Not like a beast, not like a monster—but like a claim that hadn’t been completed.

"You are not free."

Its voice was everywhere.

Inside my mind. Inside my bones. Inside me.

Liv grabbed my arm, pulling me harder, her fingers burning hot against my skin. "Keep moving!"

The tunnel ahead twisted, the light dimming, the reality around us fighting against itself, rewriting, shifting, twisting.

The Hollow was remaking the space.

Closing us in.

But the system wasn’t silent anymore.

System Recalibration: 94% Complete.

Exit Vector: Established.

Host Viability: Holding at 61%.

Recommendation: Acceleration Required.

Acceleration.

I knew what that meant.

More power. More force.

More risk.

Liv’s grip tightened. "Kai, we’re running out of time!"

I felt it.

The edges of myself fraying again.

If I pushed harder—if I let more of the system take over—would I still be me by the end?

Would I still be Kai?

The Hollow didn’t wait for me to decide.

The light died.

And the world—

collapsed.

There was no ground beneath my feet anymore.

No tunnel.

No path.

Only falling.

The Hollow had erased the way forward.

I had two choices.

Let go. Fall with it.

Or burn through it.

I reached for the system.

For the kinetic charge waiting in my bones.

For everything that made me more than just a man.

"Hold on!" I shouted.

Then—

I let go.

And let the energy tear through me.

The world slammed back into existence.

Stone—real stone—bit into my knees as I hit the ground, my body skidding across uneven rubble. My breath punched out of me, a sharp, ragged gasp that burned through my lungs.

The Hollow was gone.

Not destroyed.

Not defeated.

Just... left behind.

I coughed, my head spinning, my vision swimming as the system stabilized.

Host Integrity: 58% Functional.

Location: Undefined.

Hollow Proximity: Out of Range.

We made it.

But where?

Liv groaned next to me, pushing herself up, her arms shaking. Her sparks were gone, her energy spent, but she was alive.

We were out.

But the Hollow’s voice still lingered.

A whisper at the edges of my thoughts.

"You are never free."

I clenched my fists, pushing the words away.

We had to keep moving.

Because something told me...

This wasn’t over.

Not yet.