Story Title :- Echoes in the Circuit
Chapter 7: Ashes of the Rift
The Vault burned behind him.
Kael stood in the center of a storm made not of rain, but of Riftfire—curling, howling, sentient plasma that fed on pain and memory. Dozens of Riftspawn lay shattered at his feet, their distorted forms twitching in agony before melting into ash. The walls dripped with destabilized energy, the very laws of space trembling around his heartbeat.
But Malric Vale still stood.
Not untouched—no, his coat of living code had been slashed and scorched—but unmoved. A calm fury swirled in his glowing eyes, and when he stepped forward, the shadows bent out of his way as if the building itself feared him.
"You disappoint me, Kael," he said, his voice echoing across fractured dimensions. “You were meant to be a god among ruins. Instead, you’ve chosen martyrdom.”
Kael’s grip tightened around his blade. “I’m not here to die.”
Vale gestured—and the Rift behind him pulsed.
“I never said you were.”
The air twisted. Time faltered.
Kael fell to one knee, vision spinning.
The Protocol Field was activating.
Not fully. Not yet. But the tower was beginning to hum with the deep, tectonic resonance of a world rewrite. This wasn’t just about Riftspawn or soldiers anymore—Vale was preparing to reshape reality using the blood of every subject, every memory, every soul sacrificed to the Protocol.
Kael had minutes, maybe seconds, before everything was rewritten.
Somewhere Else – The Hollow Veil
Suddenly, Kael was not in the Vault.
The world blinked, and he found himself floating in a vast, mirror-like void—lit by stars that didn’t exist and voices that had never spoken.
“The Hollow Veil,” whispered a presence nearby. “You’ve touched it before. But now, it calls you by name.”
Kael turned.
Before him stood a ghost made of glass and lightning: Wren—his sister, long thought dead, consumed during the earliest experiments.
“You’re…” he stammered. “You were lost.”
“I was sacrificed,” she said, her face hard but her eyes aching. “To power their first Rift breach. My body died, but my soul was absorbed into the fracture. I’ve been trapped here—among all the others.”
Around them, thousands of faint silhouettes shimmered into view—men, women, children—all consumed by the Syndicate’s hunger.
“They’re about to be erased,” Wren said. “Vale’s final phase will collapse this plane completely. There’ll be no afterlife. No memory. Just control.”
Kael’s heart pounded. “Then help me stop him.”
She stepped forward. “I can give you the anchor.”
“What?”
“You’ve been surviving the Rift. But now, you need to command it.”
She placed her hand over the sigil on his arm.
It flared white-hot, then deep black.
A third layer of glyphs unraveled—ancient, impossible symbols that weren’t just spells… they were truths. Kael felt them burn into his mind: the weight of every soul lost to the Syndicate, every echo of pain turned to power.
Wren smiled faintly.
“Now go, brother. And break the tower.”
The void shattered.
Back in the Tower – Protocol Core
Kael erupted into the central chamber like a meteor, now glowing with power not of this world or any other. Vale reeled back, eyes widening as Kael hit the floor in a shockwave that ripped apart every tethered Rift-creature in the chamber.
“You’ve touched the Veil,” Vale snarled.
“I broke it,” Kael replied.
He moved like light, like memory given form.
Vale summoned a wall of anti-time—Kael sliced through it.
He launched volleys of compressed souls—Kael absorbed them.
Reality twisted into a recursive loop—Kael tore it down with a scream that echoed through planes.
For the first time, Malric Vale faltered.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake!” he yelled, bleeding shadows. “This world is dying. The Protocol is salvation. Evolution.”
“No,” Kael growled. “It’s slavery.”
He raised both hands—and the sigil on his arm flared with all three layers.
A new spell activated.
Not of destruction.
But of release.
Throughout the Tower
Vaults cracked open.
Chambers unsealed.
Souls trapped in glass and code and machinery burst free—flashes of faces, names, moments lost to time. Rift-energy surged uncontrolled as Kael severed the Syndicate’s bindings.
The Protocol screamed as its engine unraveled.
The tower began to collapse.
Back in the Core
Vale was on one knee now, coughing black ichor. “You think you’ve won?” he spat. “You’ve doomed everyone!”
Kael walked forward slowly. “No. I’ve given them a choice.”
Vale reached for a failsafe—a shard of Riftsteel embedded in his chest.
Kael plunged his blade through it.
The shard cracked.
So did Vale.
He dissolved into dust, screaming—not in pain, but in disbelief.
Moments Later
Kael stood at the top of the tower.
Around him, the city was alive with chaos—sirens, Rift-winds, collapsing spires. But above it all, a new light shimmered from the tower’s broken peak: a pulse of freedom. Of souls returned to the Hollow Veil, no longer trapped by wires and sorcery.
Vex’s voice crackled through.
“Kael… it’s done?”
He exhaled. “It’s ending.”
“You okay?”
He looked out over the ruined skyline.
“No. But I’m still here.”
A soft wind blew past him—warm, peaceful.
And for a moment, in the corner of his eye, he saw Wren’s smile.
End of Chapter 7
