Blood and Sparks: The Edge of Power
Chapter 25: The Fracture’s Edge

Chapter 25: The Fracture’s Edge

The hesitation broke like glass under a hammer.

The darkness surged, a tidal wave of shadow and weight, crashing over us with a force that stole the air from my lungs. Liv’s sparks flared brighter, a defiant burst of light, but they flickered, strained against the onslaught. Her grip on my arm tightened, her nails biting into my skin, anchoring me as the ground beneath us buckled—not stone anymore, not even an imitation, but something alive, pulsing, writhing like muscle under strain. I stumbled, my rifle slipping in my hands, the kinetic charge stuttering as the system screamed in my skull.

System Critical:

Core Anomaly Overload.

Psionic Saturation: 99%.

Host Integrity: 12% and Falling.

Countermeasures Failing.

Recommendation: Abort. Abort. Abort.

Abort.

Like there was a way out.

Like I could just turn off the Hollow, shut down the thing reaching into me, rewriting me.

The words flashed red across my vision, frantic and useless, and I snarled, shoving them aside. I wasn’t aborting. I wasn’t breaking—not while I could still stand, not while Liv was still fighting beside me.

The structure—the Heart, Liv had called it—loomed closer, its glow no longer faint but searing, a sickly green that burned into my retinas.

It wasn’t moving physically, wasn’t crossing the distance, but it was expanding, bleeding into the space between us, its edges fraying into tendrils of shadow and light. They coiled through the air, slow and deliberate, tasting the boundaries of our resistance.

"You are ours," it said again, its voice no longer a blade but a flood, pouring into me, filling every crack in my mind.

It wasn’t just sound—it was sensation, a weight that pressed against my chest, my thoughts, my soul, if I still had one. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

Liv yanked me back, her sparks snapping against the encroaching tendrils, forcing them to recoil—if only for a heartbeat.

"Kai, focus!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the haze, sharp and desperate. "It’s in your head—don’t let it stay there!"

I blinked, my vision swimming, and saw her—really saw her. Her face was taut, her eyes wide with a mix of fury and fear, her sparks dancing wildly across her skin.

She was a storm contained in flesh, holding the line against something that shouldn’t have been possible. Blood trickled from the cut above her eye, staining her cheek, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t falter.

"I’m here," I rasped, forcing the words out, forcing myself back. I raised my rifle, the charge surging through it, and fired—not at the Heart, not at the tendrils, but into the dark itself, a blast of kinetic force that tore through the void like a scream.

The darkness shuddered, the tendrils hesitating, and for a moment, the pressure in my skull eased.

But it didn’t stop.

The Heart pulsed faster, its hum splitting into a chorus of dissonant tones—high and low, sharp and deep, vibrating through my bones until I felt like I’d shatter. The tendrils regrouped, thicker now, their edges glistening with something wet and alive, and they lunged—not for me, but for Liv.

She reacted faster than I could, her hands snapping up, a wall of sparks erupting between us and them. The tendrils hit it and sizzled, recoiling with a sound like flesh on a hot skillet, but they didn’t retreat.

They pressed harder, probing the cracks in her defense, and I saw her stagger, her knees buckling under the strain.

"Liv!" I lunged forward, catching her before she fell, my arm around her waist. Her sparks flared against my skin, hot and erratic, but she didn’t push me away. She leaned into me, her breath ragged, her hands still outstretched, holding the line.

"It’s too strong," she gasped, her voice breaking. "I can’t—Kai, it’s too much."

"No," I growled, pulling her upright, my rifle braced against my shoulder. "We’re not done. Not yet."

The system flickered again, its alerts a chaotic mess.

System Override:

Emergency Protocol Engaged.

Kinetic Reserves: 17%.

Host Integration Risk: Critical.

Recommendation: Final Stand.

Final stand.

The words burned, a cold fire in my gut. I didn’t have much left—my system was failing, my body was fraying, and the Hollow was winning. But I had her. I had Liv. And I had one last shot.

I channeled everything I had into the rifle—every spark, every ounce of kinetic energy still humming in my core. The barrel glowed, white-hot, the air around it warping with heat, and I aimed—not at the tendrils, not at the Heart, but at the space between, where the darkness was thickest, where the Hollow’s will felt strongest.

"Get ready," I muttered to Liv, my voice low, steady despite the tremor in my hands.

She nodded, her sparks steadying, syncing with mine.

"Together," she said, and it wasn’t a question.

I pulled the trigger.

The blast erupted—a beam of pure kinetic force, brighter than her sparks, louder than the Heart’s hum, tearing through the void like a comet. Liv’s energy joined it, a cascade of light and heat weaving into mine, amplifying it, turning it into something more—a weapon forged from both of us, from everything we had left.

The tendrils burned away, disintegrating into ash and shadow.

The darkness recoiled, the Heart’s glow faltering, its pulse stuttering as the blast slammed into it. For a moment—just a moment—the Hollow screamed, a soundless wail that ripped through my mind, my system, my everything.

And then it stopped.

The silence was deafening.

The darkness didn’t vanish, didn’t dissolve, but it pulled back, thinning into a haze. The Heart still stood, its glow dimmed, its tendrils gone, but it wasn’t dead—not even close. It was waiting again, patient, eternal, certain we’d falter eventually.

Liv slumped against me, her breaths shallow, her sparks fading to faint flickers. I held her up, my own strength barely enough to keep us both standing. My rifle hung limp in my hand, its charge spent, its hum silent.

"Did we...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"No," I said, my throat raw. "But we hurt it."

She managed a weak laugh, bitter and defiant. "Good enough."

The system pinged one last time, faint and fractured.

System Status:

Reserves Depleted.

Host Stability: Critical.

Anomaly Contained: Temporary.

Recommendation: Recover. Prepare.

Prepare.

For what? The Hollow wasn’t done—it couldn’t be. It was too old, too vast, too wrong to be stopped by us, by this. But we’d bought time—seconds, minutes, maybe more. Time to breathe, to think, to find a way out.

I shifted, pulling Liv closer, her weight heavy against my side.

"We need to move," I said, scanning the dark. "Before it comes back."

She nodded, slow and unsteady, but her eyes were still sharp, still alive.

"Where?"

I didn’t have an answer—not a real one. The light was gone, the Heart was quiet, and the Hollow stretched endless around us. But that thread, that pull from before, the one that had led me to her—it was still there, faint but persistent, tugging at the edges of my mind.

"There," I said, nodding toward nothing, toward the unknown. "That way."

She didn’t argue. She just straightened, her hand finding mine, her sparks brushing against my skin—weak, but enough.

We walked, step by aching step, into the dark.

The stone steadied beneath us, cold and unyielding, a fragile anchor in the chaos. The darkness didn’t close in again—not yet—but it watched, a presence at our backs, a shadow we couldn’t shake. My system was silent now, its warnings exhausted, its reserves drained. I felt hollowed out, a shell held together by will and Liv’s grip, but I kept moving.

The thread grew stronger, a whisper of direction in the void. It wasn’t the Gate, wasn’t the Heart. It was something else—something older, something buried.

A way out, maybe. Or a deeper trap. I couldn’t tell, and I didn’t care—not as long as it kept us going.

Liv’s voice broke the silence, soft and rough. "You think he’s still in there? Rylan?"

I didn’t answer right away. The memory of his face—his real face, not the thing at the Gate—twisted in my chest, sharp and heavy.

"I don’t know," I said finally. "But if he is, I’ll find him."

She squeezed my hand, a small, fierce gesture. "We’ll find him."

The darkness shifted ahead, a faint shimmer breaking the black—not light, not sound, but something between. A ripple in the void, a crack in the Hollow’s skin. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

I took a breath, steadying myself, and stepped toward it.

The Hollow didn’t stop us.

But it whispered—soft, insidious, a promise woven into the air.

"You will return."

I didn’t look back.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.