The slums shook as Weaver ships roared overhead, their thrusters blasting ash through the Veins. Kael crouched in the hideout's tunnel exit, Ryn at his side, her goggles reflecting the chaos. The Unthreaded scrambled, grabbing weapons and tech. Vren's voice cut through: "Move! They've found us!"
Kael's hand tightened on the shard, its glow dim but sharp. The traitor—Tor, with his sneaky signal—had sold them out. Weaver enforcers were here, and the hideout's shields wouldn't hold.
Mira shoved past, her cybernetic arm hefting a pulse rifle. "Your fault, slum boy," she hissed. "Your glitches led them right to us."
"Save it," Ryn snapped, drawing her knife. "He's not the one signaling bounties."
Kael shot her a look. She'd seen Tor, too.
The tunnel quaked, a blast tearing through the Veins above. Enforcers breached the slums, their boots pounding, drones whirring. Vren led the Unthreaded to a side passage, but a drone burst through the ceiling, its laser slicing toward Kael.
He dove, the shard flaring. Threads shimmered—through the drone, the tunnel, the crumbling stone. He twisted a thread, and the drone's laser veered, blasting a wall instead. But the shard cracked, a hairline fracture leaking violet energy. Pain stabbed Kael's chest, his breath hitching.
Ryn yanked him up. "You're killing yourself!"
"No choice," Kael gasped, blood dripping from his lip.
Vren spun, threads weaving to collapse the tunnel's mouth, slowing the enforcers. "Kael, hold it together. That shard—it's not just tech. It's a key, from the creators who built the Looms. Before the Weavers."
Kael's head spun. "Creators?"
"Gone," Vren said, eyes dark. "But their power's in you. And that shard."
A second blast rocked the tunnel, stone crumbling. Enforcers breached the collapse, their armor woven with glowing threads. Drones flanked them, scanners locking on. Kael's glitchweaving surged, unbidden—he tore a thread, and the tunnel's ceiling buckled, burying the drones. But the shard's crack widened, energy searing his hand.
Mira fired her rifle, downing an enforcer. She grabbed Kael as he stumbled, her grip iron. "Don't die yet, rat," she growled, shoving him forward. "I'm not done hating you."
Kael managed a weak grin, but Ryn's knife flashed, cutting a drone's claw. "Focus, Kael!"
The Unthreaded fought to a narrow exit, slums burning above. Vren led them toward a scavenged skiff, but a figure blocked the path—an elite Weaver, their armor pulsing with golden threads, eyes hidden behind a visor. They raised a hand, threads coiling like snakes.
"Kael," the Weaver said, voice cold, resonant. "The shard is known to us."
Kael froze, the shard's energy pulsing in sync with his fear. How did they know his name? The Weaver stepped closer, threads tightening the air. The Unthreaded raised weapons, but Vren's face paled.
"Run," Vren whispered.
But Kael's legs wouldn't move. The Weaver's visor locked on him, and the world seemed to glitch.
To be continued…