Chapter Four: Parallel Pulse
Part Eight
Date: Maelis 26, Year 204 PCR
Location: Caervale Ridge — Fracture Basin Echo
Time: Veildusk – Stars hidden, hums exposed
The glyph pulsed again.
Not loudly.
Not like before.
This one whispered.
Not into the air—into them.
Zephryn stood in the center of the fracture basin, breathing slow, spine locked, the last of the cast still unraveling behind his eyes.
Selka stood close—too close for safety, not close enough for comfort.
"Do you hear it?" he asked, voice distant.
Selka nodded.
"It's trying to speak."
"No," Yolti said behind them. "It's trying to remember."
Bubbalor hadn't moved since the cast. His crystal form was still curled around the glyph's edge—not protecting Zephryn anymore.
Guarding the glyph.
Kaelen paced the perimeter, halberd low.
"We need to shut it down before it opens something we can't close."
"It's not opening," Zephryn murmured. "It's reflecting."
"Same thing."
The treeline broke.
Cantare Unit emerged first—slow, careful, disciplined even in approach.
Sylie's eyes flicked instantly to the silver-humming glyph.
Her squad fanned out behind her like breath held mid-sentence.
"Contact confirmed," Sylie called. "Legato, report."
Kaelen didn't look up.
"We handled it."
"The Riftborn?"
"One. Maybe two. Or a memory of something worse."
Selka met Sylie's eyes.
"It reformed mid-fracture. Took pulse shape from the terrain. No warp, no sound."
"Spontaneous emergence?" Liora asked behind her. "Not possible."
"It didn't emerge," Zephryn said softly. "It was already here. We just woke it up."
Snap.
A pulse sound to the far left.
Not hostile.
Just steady.
Recon.
Mino appeared first—his Veilmark half-dimmed, one hand signaling stillness.
"Three squads, one basin," he said dryly. "Either a setup or a song."
"Feels like both," Sylie responded.
Rhea stepped into the glyph's glow—and flinched.
"That's not Veilcast. That's… that's harmonic layering. Do you see the way it's folding? It's calling to something beneath."
"Let's not answer," Kellian muttered.
"Too late," Torr said, eyes locked to the ridgeline behind them. "Look."
A shape rose.
No Riftborn ripple.
No pulse spark.
Just… a silhouette stepping out from the side of the basin, where the glyphlight didn't touch.
It was humanoid.
But wrong.
Thin limbs made of pulse-thin bonework, arms wrapped in reversed Veilthread that moved against the wind.
It didn't speak.
It didn't blink.
But its chest pulsed—once—and every Veilmark on every arm in the basin dimmed for a breath.
"Is that…?" Yolti whispered.
"It's wearing a Choir ring," Sylie said.
Mino stepped forward once.
"Designation?"
The figure raised one finger to its throat.
And hummed.
Not a note.
A name.
Not spoken. Just resonated into their heads.
"Tether."
Selka's sword was already up.
Zephryn didn't move.
"Is that its name?"
"No," Yolti said, stepping toward him.
"That's ours."
The glyph behind them trembled.
Echoed the name back.