The Rust Slums burned, orange flames licking the sky as the elite Weaver's thread-storm tore through the Veins. Kael and the Unthreaded sprinted through a narrow alley, the air thick with ash and the screams of scavengers fleeing their shanties. The shard in Kael's pocket pulsed erratically, its violet leaks sparking glitches—rusted pipes twisted unnaturally, threads of reality fraying around him.
Ryn ran beside him, her goggles smudged with soot, her scavenged jacket torn at the shoulder. "Kael, you're bleeding again!" she shouted over the chaos, pointing to the blood dripping from his nose.
"No time," Kael gasped, clutching the shard. The Weaver's words echoed in his mind: *"Surrender the shard, or the slums burn."* He'd refused, and now the slums paid the price. Guilt clawed at him, but the shard's energy surged, threads shimmering—through the flames, the collapsing shacks, the Weaver's golden storm in the distance.
Vren led the group to a scavenger den, a hollowed-out warehouse with walls of scavenged steel and broken Looms. "Inside!" they barked, their scar stark in the firelight. Mira brought up the rear, her cybernetic arm whirring as she fired her pulse rifle at a pursuing drone, downing it in a shower of sparks.
The den's air was stale, filled with the hum of old tech and the murmurs of terrified scavengers—families huddled behind crates, clutching children. A grizzled woman with a cybernetic eye glared at Vren. "You brought this hell on us!" she spat. "Weaver storms don't just *happen*."
Vren's jaw tightened. "We'll fix it. Stay down."
Kael slumped against a crate, the shard's glow dim but searing. His vision blurred, the memory of his parents flashing again—hiding him, dying for the shard. *"It's your blood,"* his mother had said. Vren's revelation about his creator bloodline made it click: the shard wasn't just a tool. It was a legacy, tied to him.
Ryn knelt beside him, wiping ash from her face. "You okay?" Her voice softened, a rare crack in her tough exterior.
Kael managed a weak nod, but the shard pulsed, and a nearby Loom panel sparked, threads snapping. "It's getting worse," he muttered. "The Voidborn—it's calling me."
Ryn hesitated, then spoke, her voice low. "I… I get it. My family—they were scavengers, too. But my grandmother… she used to talk about the creators. Said they wove reality, that some of us carry their spark. I thought it was just stories." She met his gaze, her eyes fierce. "Maybe it's why I'm drawn to you."
Kael's chest tightened—not just from the shard, but from her words. "Ryn, I—"
A scream cut him off. Outside, the Weaver's storm intensified, golden threads slicing through shacks, igniting more fires. Scavengers ran, but a thread lashed out, pinning a young boy to the ground, his leg caught under debris. His mother wailed, clawing at the rubble.
Kael stood, the shard flaring. "I can't let this happen."
Mira grabbed his arm, her grip iron. "You'll get us killed, slum boy! Your glitches are why we're here!"
"He's right," Vren said, threads coiling around their hands. "We fight, or we're all ash."
Kael pulled free, stepping into the open. The boy's cries fueled him. Threads shimmered—through the flames, the debris, the Weaver's storm. He wove, pain lancing his skull, redirecting a golden thread to slice the debris apart. The boy scrambled free, his mother sobbing as she pulled him away.
But the shard's leak surged, violet energy crackling. Kael's nose bled harder, his vision doubling. The Weaver's storm turned, threads locking onto him—he'd revealed his location.
Mira fired at incoming drones, her cybernetic arm steady. "Idiot! They're coming!"
Vren wove a shield, but the air quaked. A Voidborn rift tore open in the den's center, larger than before, its violet edges pulsing with chaotic threads. The eye within stared at Kael, its whisper deafening: *"Kael… closer…"* The rift pulled, threads unraveling, dragging Kael toward it.
Ryn lunged, grabbing his waist. "Fight it!"
But the rift's pull was too strong. Kael's feet slid, the shard burning in his pocket. The last thing he saw was Ryn's desperate face as the rift swallowed him whole.
To be continued…