Standard agents failed to penetrate Sanctum's barrier nineteen times. Their mathematics were too rigid, too predictable. She sent me because I understand broken patterns. Because my crystallized veins sing harmonies that shouldn't exist.
Twenty-seven hours since arrival on Untia. Seventeen spent analyzing barrier fluctuations. The solution was elegant in its simplicity - ancient wards and barriers don't recognize me as fully corporeal. My fractured existence allows temporary integration into their mathematical framework.
Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap. The rhythm helps maintain stable Olais progression through my tissue. Crystallized within acceptable parameters.
Initial reconnaissance proves interesting. Sanctum's defensive matrices are intricate but not impenetrable. The others failed because they tried to solve their way through. I succeeded because I'm already broken - geometry that bleeds, mathematics that shatters.
She was pleased when I reported the breach. "This is why you're special, my General," Her voice carried harmonics that made reality flinch. "You see patterns others can't. Because you exist in fragments."
The dining area provides optimal observation points. Multiple subjects displaying various manifestations of Statica:
Subject A: Silver light. Precise geometric patterns. Evidence of channel damage.
Subject B: Blue light. Weather manipulation. Emotional resonance affects local atmosphere.
Subject C: Green light. Statica probability manifestations. Unusual temporal signatures.
All documented. All categorized. All—
Target Located. Initiating detailed scan.
The golden one. Lyra Velrose. She—
She's laughing.
She's... happy.
Something shifts in my carefully ordered systems. Blood begins to flow faster, each drop containing fractals that shouldn't—that can't—
Warning: Emotional resonance detected. Attempting to stabilize.
The way she moves. The way her chaos-fire dances beneath her skin in patterns that refuse to resolve. The way she belongs.
I belonged once.
Error: Unauthorized memory surface detected. Suppressing.
More blood now. My pristine gloves are staining. The crystal patterns under my skin are growing too fast, too chaotic, too—
She touches the silver one's arm carelessly, like physical contact isn't a violation of proper mathematical progression. Like connection is natural. Like she deserves—
Warning: Critical emotional threshold approaching. Recommend immediate withdrawal.
My fingers lose their rhythm. Tap-tap—slip. Tap... tap...
This feeling. This burning, shattering feeling. It refuses to resolve into proper equations. Refuses to be solved. Refuses to—
"Hate," I whisper, and the word tastes like broken glass and revelation.
Emergency Alert: Multiple system irregularities detected.
The silver one stiffens suddenly. His scars catch the light as he senses the mathematical disruption my failing control is causing.
Tactical retreat required. The barrier solution won't last if my crystalline matrices destabilize further. She needs this intelligence. Needs to understand Sanctum's defenses. Needs—
CRITICAL WARNING: Emotional overflow imminent. Emergency shutdown initiated.
I withdraw through gaps in reality's equations, my perfect rhythm shattered by tremors. Let the others test Sanctum's barriers with their corporate precision. Let them try to solve this sanctuary with pure mathematics.
I succeeded where they failed because I'm broken. Because my fragmented soul can slip through ancient wards like blood through crystal lattices.
But I saw too much.
Remembered too much.
Hated too much.
System Override: Emergency shutdown complete.
Emotional contamination contained. Proper pattern restored. Mission parameters maintained.
But in my dreams, I will see her burn, and remember how to hate.
YOU ARE READING
Fragmented Light
Science FictionIn the shadowy tunnels of Galri, survival is everything, and Lyra Velrose has learned to scrape by through wit, defiance, and a knack for stirring trouble. But when she uncovers a corporate conspiracy tied to the life-force energy known as Olais, he...
