Page 13 of Alien Guardian's Vow
She hadn't questioned my path this time, and I hadn't dismissed her scanner readings. The ruins hummed around us, ancient and unstable, binding us together with threads of necessity and a connection neither of us wanted but both increasingly felt.
RIVERA
The corridor groaned around us, water dripping from cracks in the ancient ceiling. The dim emergency lighting flickered more erratically here, casting long, dancing shadows that played tricks on the eyes, making stable-looking floors ripple and solid walls seem to shift. Water dripped incessantly from somewhere above, the sound echoing in a way that made it impossible to pinpoint, amplifying the sense of being lost deep underground.
Varek moved ahead, taking point with an infuriating, animalistic grace I couldn't hope to match. His tall frame, which should have been clumsy in these narrow, crumbling passages, moved with silent efficiency. He tested structural integrity with a touch, a glance, an innate sense I couldn't fathom, his prehensile tail providing constant, subtle adjustments for balance on precarious ledges.
I followed, trying to place my feet exactly where his larger boots had been, my own balance feeling clumsy and inadequate. My scanner was nearly useless here; the ambient energy fluctuations and structural damage created too much noise for reliable readings. I had to rely on Varek's judgment and my own eyes, squinting into the gloom. I stumbled more than once on loose debris or slick patches of damp stone, catching myself with scraped palms, biting back curses.
He'd slow slightly when I faltered, a barely perceptible change in his pace, but he never commented, never offered help unless absolutely necessary. The silence stretched between me and him, thick with the tension of our forced proximity and the memory of... everything that had happened since I'd foolishly touched that panel.
We reached a place where the floor simply ended—a wide crack, a chasm at least three meters across, dropping into absolute blackness below. Varek leapt across it effortlessly, his tail providing perfect counterbalance, landing silently on the other side. He turned, waiting, his golden eyes impassive in the dim light.
I peered into the darkness below, my stomach twisting. "How deep is that?"
"Deep enough," he replied flatly, his voice echoing slightly. "You will not survive the fall."
"Comforting," I muttered, backing up a few steps. No choice. Taking a deep breath, I ran forward, pushing off the crumbling edge with everything I had. For one heart-stopping moment, I hung suspended over nothing but blackness, the damp, cold air rushing past me.
Then Varek's hands caught mine, strong and sure. His hands closed around mine, and I felt the spark before our markings even flared. My stomach dropped—not from the leap. From him. From the way he wouldn’t let me fall. The contact sent an immediate jolt through my markings—silver fire racing up my arms, met by an answering pulse of gold from his lifelines. The bond flared between us, sharp and startlingly intimate. He pulled me across to safety with an ease that nearly sent me stumbling into his solid chest again.
This time, he released my hands immediately, stepping back as if the contact had burned him too. His expression was unreadable, but the slight flicker in his lifelines betrayed... something. Disturbance? Annoyance?
"Your markings," he said, his voice tight, formal. "They respond to my lifelines."
"Yeah, I noticed." I rubbed my hands where the sensation still tingled, trying to mask my own discomfort with sarcasm. "Some kind of energy resonance, maybe."
He frowned, the expression deepening the lines around his mouth. "It's... distracting."
"Sorry my life-saving markings are inconvenient for you," I snapped, turning away before he could see the flush I felt rising in my cheeks.Distracting? Try terrifying.
He didn't reply, simply turned and continued deeper into the ruins, forcing me to follow. For the next hour, we navigated treacherous paths—narrow ledges crumbling at the edges, floors slick with mineral-laden water, sections where the very air seemed to vibrate with unstable energy. He moved with that infuriating Nyxari grace, while I struggled to keep pace, slipping once on a wet section of floor and barely catching myself on a protruding conduit, gasping as my scraped palms stung.
Varek turned instantly at the sound, his hand half-extended toward me before he visibly pulled it back, his expression a confusing mix of annoyance and... something else. Concern? Responsibility? "Are you injured?" he asked stiffly.
"I'm fine," I bit out, pushing myself up, ignoring the sting in my palms and the throbbing in my bruised shoulder. "Let's keep going."
He gave a short, clipped nod, but I noticed he slowed his pace slightly afterward. Not enough to be obvious, perhaps not even consciously, but enough that I could follow more safely without feeling like I was constantly about to fall into darkness. The small consideration was almost more irritating than his usual arrogance.Damn him.For all his rigid adherence to tradition and his suspicion of humans, he was undeniably competent in this environment. And, infuriatingly, protective in his own brusque way.
We turned a corner and stopped abruptly, both of us freezing simultaneously. The corridor ahead buzzed and crackled with lethal danger. Blue-white electricity arced violently from floor to ceiling in chaotic, unpredictable patterns, illuminating the passage in harsh, strobing flashes. A sharp, corrosive gas hissed audibly from damaged conduits overhead, its acrid scent burning my nostrils even from here. The air temperature fluctuated wildly—one moment a blast of intense heat washed over us, the next a wave of freezing cold that made my teeth chatter.
Varek studied the obstacle, his golden eyes reflecting the blue flashes, his posture shifting into tactical assessment. "We'll have to climb over." He pointed to a narrow, crumbling ledge that ran along the wall above the deadly energy field, partially obscured by fallen, sparking debris. "The debris will provide handholds, if it remains stable."
I examined the path he indicated—a precarious climb over energized metal, loose rock, with electrical discharges snapping mere inches away. One slip, one piece of debris giving way, and we'd be instantly incinerated or electrocuted. Suicide.
"Wait." I stepped forward, stopping him before he could approach the climb. "Don't climb." I closed my eyes, forcing myself to ignore the chaos, focusing inward, letting my markings respond to the energy field ahead. Silver light bloomed beneath my skin, a familiar warmth spreading as my perception expanded, reaching into the crackling energy.
Through my markings, I could sense the patterns—not just see the arcs, butfeelthe flow, the ebb, the surge. The chaotic discharges weren't entirely random; they followed complex patterns dictated by the failing systems feeding them. And within that chaos...
"There's a null zone," I said, opening my eyes, locking my gaze on the lethal field with newfound certainty. "A corridor within the arcs where the energy fields cancel each other out. It shifts, moves, but it follows a predictable sequence."
Varek's expression darkened instantly. "You want us towalkthrough that?" He gestured incredulously at the deadly display.
"It's safer than climbing over energized debris that could collapse at any moment," I insisted, standing my ground. "The null zone is about two feet wide. If we time it right and follow the pathexactly, we can get through without being touched."
"Absolutely not." His voice hardened with the absolute authority of Nyxari tradition, the ingrained caution of his species. "That is madness! Trusting unstable energy? Your senses are unreliable! This is ancient power, not human circuitry!"
"My senses haven't dropped rocks on me!" I shot back, frustration making my voice sharp. "That climb is suicide, Varek, and you know it. This way is possible. Trust me!"
