Page 145 of GlitchBorn Heart

Lyra catches me before I hit the ground, fingers gripping my shirt, eyes searching my face, making sure I’m not injured. Her hand moves to the middle of my back, stroking me like my mother used to when I was young. I’m a little shaken that the memory has surfaced right at this moment in time. I haven’t thought about her in years.

“Breathe,” she says softly. “You’re okay.”

“I’m not,” I rasp, staring at my hands like they might light up again. “This...this isn’t possible. I don’t have magic.”

She smiles, unafraid of what I’ve become. “You do now.”

I do now. Those three words set off the harsh realization that my magic didn’t awaken randomly. It emerged because of her. Because I let her in. Because whatever this bond is, it doesn’t care about my life rules or that I could be a liability to whoever I choose to walk this path with me.

I look out at the horizon and chuckle quietly. “The architect has become part of the system.” I run both hands down my face, still feeling heat in the tips of my fingers.

Her magic hooks into mine instinctively, not asking permission, just assuming I’ll follow. And I do, because my power responds before my mind catches up. Lyra releases me and turns toward her parent’s cottage. “Come on, let’s get you home so you can take a minute to process all this.”

Home.

That word sounds so foreign to me. Sure, I have one, my penthouse, but it’s mainly where I transition from work to sleep, or where I go to train after a long day in the neon rot.

I can sense that LINK’s presence has dropped away as DreamNet renders around us, raw edges smoothing around the sea, colors filling in to form the digital sunset. The program is adapting quickly to our intrusion from the hijacked entrance. Impressive. I’ll need to study this later.

Lyra begins to lead the way. Sand whips at our ankles as we walk toward the small cottage rising from the dunes. Its lights glow warm against the darkening sky, windows flickering like golden candlelight. It looks almost too fragile to exist here, a small slice of comfort against the harsh expanse of code. The roof is thatched in pale reeds that sway in simulated wind, casting ripples of shadow over the walls. Weathered wood shutters cling to the windows, painted once in soft blues but now faded to a shade between ash and sky.

The closer we get, the more the air shifts to a cold chill that doesn’t seem natural, even for DreamNet. My magic recoils, tightening against my skin as if it knows what’s ahead. The wind stops altogether, silence thick enough to stifle my breath.

Lyra throws her hand in front of me, protectively, surveying the area around the cottage.

Through the window, I catch glimpses of mismatched furniture, the glow of a hearth, and shelves sagging under the weight of actual books. She must have dreamt them up herself, a product of having too much time on her hands while trapped inside. No one reads actual books anymore, so naturally I get lost in the thought of us sitting in front of the fire reading together, savoring the tranquility of the moment, words connecting us in ways technology never will.

I know why she holds on to this dream. It feels alive in a way the rest of this world doesn’t. Personal. Stolen pieces of memory woven together into a sanctuary.

The blowing sand fades at the doorstep. It’s much more than a home. It’s Lyra’s heart made into architecture, every piece of it a testament to a place where she can still feel human, still feel safe.

We take two steps inside and immediately are met with a violet surge that erupts through every windowpane. The lights flash like the bulbs are shattering inward. A voice echoes, fractured and furious. “Well, it took you long enough.”

Elliot Vaille. Eli.

“Lyra?! What the hell is he doing here?” His eyes strobe.

That’s when I feel it, his void building at just the mere sight of me standing beside her. Not just absence, but a seismic shift, like gravity inverted. The kind of darkness that remembers light only to consume it.

He manifests through a dozen images at once, hollow avatars, their mouths twisting in sync, void-light spilling from their eyes. His presence is wrong here, jagged, tearing pixels from the simulation as he forces his way in.

Lyra steps forward. “Eli.” Her voice breaks on his name.

I immediately move to shield her, my body taking over reactively, sliding her behind me. I remain there, firelight still humming under my skin.

I’m ready to protect her, ready for a fight. And for the first time in my life, I’m not just fighting the system. I’m part of the game now.

He snarls through all the mouths at once. “Don’t touch her! Don’t let him touch you!” His void lashes out, ripping at me like black claws of static.

I feel Lyra’s power waver, pulled between love for her brother and rage at what he’s become.

My magic surges harder on impulse, protective, no thought involved, just action. LINK immediately finds us from his surge, her code fracturing as Eli’s void eats into her core.

DREAMNET COMPROMISED

“LINK—stand down. Do not engage!” I bark, my voice coming out too loud for the room. I turn to Lyra and take both her hands in mine. “Feel me. Match my pulse. We can hold him. We have to hold him. If this void reaches outside of DreamNet again, he could destroy the entire city.”

Her eyes snap to mine, calculating, scanning. Her head tilts like she’s processing her reaction. It’s like a fist through my heart. She’s only part human now, more machine than ever before.