The Touched, led by Kael, launched a chaotic attack on a K'tharr artifact site in the ruins, their unstable abilities wreaking havoc. Violet energy crackled wildly through the air as Emma and the Seedkeepers arrived at the scene. Around a dozen Touched stood before them, their glowing bodies thrumming with erratic power. At the forefront was Kael, trembling, his eyes wild and desperate as he shouted, "Stay back! You can't stop them! They're coming!"
Emma stepped forward slowly, her K'tharr blade sheathed, her movements deliberate to avoid escalating the situation. "Kael, we're here to help," she said, her voice firm yet calm. "You don't have to fight us. Tell us what's going on."
Kael's body spasmed, energy sparking erratically from his trembling hands. "You don't understand!" he screamed, his voice raw. "They see us! They're in the void—watching! They'll take everything!"
Emma tried to hold his gaze, her heart pounding. "Who's watching, Kael?" she asked, her tone steady but urgent. "We can help you. You just have to talk to us."
"You can't help!" Kael bellowed, releasing a blast of violet energy that seared the ground where Emma had just dodged, scorching the ruins further. "They'll destroy us all!"
Emma remained focused as Kael's power flared uncontrollably. "Chloe, now!" she called.
Chloe's healing light surged to life, enveloping Kael in golden radiance. He collapsed to his knees, his screams fading into weak whimpers. The remaining Touched hesitated, their powers flickering as Kael's rage ebbed.
Emma took a step closer, addressing the group. "We don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice steady but resolute. "We want to help. Let us."
A young woman among the Touched stepped forward cautiously. Her faintly glowing violet eyes betrayed fear and determination. "I'm Lila," she said, her voice trembling. "We… we don't want to fight. But the voices—they won't stop. They tell us to find the artifacts, to… to prepare."
Emma softened her tone and stepped closer. "Prepare for what? What are the voices saying?"
"They're… they're not human," Lila replied, her voice shaking. "They're from the void. They say something's coming—something big. They want us to be ready."
Markus stepped in sharply, his voice cutting through the air. "That's exactly what I've been saying," he said, his frustration evident. "The Void Leviathan, the Quantum Schism—we're running out of time, Emma. We need to leave."
Emma turned to him, her jaw set in defiance. "Not yet," she said firmly. "We can't abandon them, Markus. They need us."
"They're a liability!" Markus snapped, his gray eyes ablaze. "They're connected to the void—whatever's coming, they're drawing it here!"
"We can help them," Emma countered, unwavering. "We can break that connection."
Markus folded his arms, his voice low but sharp. "How? You don't even know what you're dealing with!"
"I'll figure it out," Emma said, her tone steady despite the doubt gnawing at her. "We always do."
Lucas stepped forward, his expression grim but focused. "I've been analyzing the Touched," he said, his voice calm but urgent. "The K'tharr biotech—it's amplifying their sensitivity to the WoodDust. It's making them… vulnerable to whatever's out there."
Emma's eyes flickered with a spark of hope. "Can we sever that connection?" she asked quickly, her gaze locked on Lucas.
"Maybe," Lucas admitted cautiously. "But it'll take time—more than we might have."
"Then we start now," Emma said decisively. "We help the Touched, we train the recruits, and we prepare Earth. No hesitation."
Markus's frustration boiled over, but he said nothing as he turned away, his posture tense. "You're risking everything," he muttered darkly. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Emma didn't flinch, though doubt pulled at her mind. She turned to Lila, meeting her gaze. "We'll help you," she promised. "All of you. I won't let this spiral further."
As the storm on the horizon grew darker still, its violet lightning cut across the sky in jagged flashes—silent promises of the Void Leviathan's approach. The WoodDust's hum deepened, vibrating with a restless pulse from the void, pressing against the fragile hope they clung to.