Zane's heart slammed against his ribs as the red light in the shattered Synthorium case pulsed like a warning. The low hum filled sector five, vibrating in his bones, and that voice—not Mara's—growled through the air. The words sent a chill down his spine, but Mara was still out there, her shadows creeping through The Vault with Harvesters in tow. She'd stolen a Synthorium fragment, nearly drained his power, and now something else was coming. He was out of time.
"Uh, guys?" Jaxon said, pointing at the blinking case. His armored jumpsuit glowed faintly, scratched from their last fight. "That's not good, right?"
"No," Liora snapped, her green eyes darting between the case and the chamber's entrance, where Mara's portal had been. Sparks crackled on her fingers, ready for a fight. "It's a beacon. Whatever's coming, it's locked on Zane."
Zane's chest ached, the Synthorium's blue glow dim under his skin. Mara's crystal had messed with his power, and the breach from her theft still stung. He thought of Clara, his foster mom, pacing their tiny apartment, and Sophia, his best friend, probably crying over news reports calling him dead. Mara's words, cut deeper than her shadows. He'd trapped her in that warehouse job years ago, cost her brother his life. He couldn't undo that, but he could stop her now.
Mr. Corin stood by a glowing console, his silver hair catching the light as he scanned data. "The beacon's Synthorium-based," he said, voice tight. "Mara's fragment activated it. She's not just after Zane, she's signaling something bigger."
"Bigger?" Zane's voice cracked. "Like what?" His hands glowed faintly, the Synthorium humming, but it felt weak, like a dying battery. He wasn't ready for bigger.
"We'll find out," Mr. Corin said, slamming a button. The console beeped, and a holographic map showed Mara's shadows moving toward sector five's core, a vault within The Vault, where more Synthorium was stored. "She's after the main reserve. If she gets it, she'll be unstoppable."
Jaxon cracked his knuckles. "Then we stop her first. Right, rookie?"
Zane nodded, his throat tight. He was scared—terrified, even—but Clara and Sophia needed him alive. Mara's pain was real, but so was his. "Let's end this," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady.
Liora led the way, sparks lighting the path. "Stay sharp, glowstick. She's not playing nice." Her tone was tough, but she glanced back, like she was checking he was okay.
They sprinted through sector five, the hum growing louder, the red light's pulse syncing with Zane's heartbeat. The air crackled, heavy with energy. Zane's training in the Chronochamber, shields, pulses, felt like a crash course, but it was all he had. The Synthorium whispered: Fight. He clung to it, picturing Sophia's laugh, Clara's strength.
The core vault loomed ahead, a massive door etched with runes, glowing blue. Mara stood before it, her red crystal raised, shadows tearing at the seals. Two Harvesters flanked her, their red-veined bodies glinting, blades ready. The stolen Synthorium fragment glowed in her other hand, amplifying her power.
"You're late," Mara said, her voice cold but raw, like she was holding back a scream. Her dark hair was wild, her eyes burning with hate and hurt. "This ends now, Zane."
Zane stepped forward, his shield flickering to life. "It doesn't have to, Mara. I'm sorry for what happened to your brother, the warehouse. I didn't know. But this—" He gestured to the Harvesters, the vault. "This isn't you. It's that crystal."
Her laugh was bitter. "You think you know me? You left me to rot. This power's my justice." Her shadows surged, faster and sharper, aiming for Zane's heart.
Jaxon dove in, his armor glowing as he blocked the hit. "Not today!" he grunted, sliding back. Liora fired a bolt of electricity, but a Harvester swatted it away, its blades swinging. Zane raised his shield, shadows crashing against it, pushing him to his knees.
"Zane, the fragment!" Mr. Corin shouted, dodging a Harvester's blade. "It's her anchor. Destroy it!"
Zane's chest burned, the Synthorium's hum faint but there. He focused, picturing the pulse that cracked Mara's crystal before. His hands glowed, energy building. But Mara's shadows were relentless, slicing through his shield, grazing his arm. Blood dripped, pain flaring, but he held on.
"You can't win," Mara said, her voice breaking. "This is for him." Her shadows tightened, pinning Jaxon and Liora. The vault's door groaned, starting to open.
Zane's guilt surged—Mara's brother, his fault. But he saw Clara's worried eyes, Sophia's smile. He wasn't that scared kid anymore. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "but I can't let you do this." He thrust his hands forward, blue energy roaring out. It hit the fragment, shattering it into dust. The red crystal in Mara's hand sparked, then dimmed, her shadows faltering.
Mara screamed, dropping to her knees, her face twisting with pain. The Harvesters froze, their red veins fading. The vault's door stopped, sealing shut. Zane staggered, drained, his glow dimming. The Synthorium's hum steadied, the breach gone.
Jaxon broke free, tackling a Harvester to the ground. Liora fried the other with a surge of electricity, sparks flying. Mara clutched her chest, the red crystal crumbling. "You… you took everything," she gasped, tears in her eyes.
Zane knelt beside her, guilt choking him. "I didn't want this, Mara. I swear. Let us help you."
Her eyes softened, just for a moment, like she wanted to believe him. Then they hardened. "Never," she spat. A faint shadow swirled around her, and she vanished, not through a portal but into thin air, leaving only a faint red glow.
Zane's heart sank. She was gone, defeated, but not done. He'd stopped her, but at what cost? Her pain, her brother's death—they were on him. He'd carry that forever.
Jaxon clapped his shoulder, breathing hard. "You did good, rookie. She's out of here."
"For now," Liora said, wiping sweat from her brow. "She's got Synthorium in her system. She'll be back." She looked at Zane, her usual edge softer. "You okay?"
Zane nodded, but he wasn't. He thought of Clara, Sophia, the life he'd lost. "I just want to go home," he said, voice low.
Mr. Corin approached, his suit pristine despite the chaos. "Home's not an option yet," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind. "Mara was a pawn. That beacon, the voice, it's something else. Something bigger." He pointed at the shattered case, where the red light had faded but left a faint burn mark.
Zane's stomach twisted. "Bigger how?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Mr. Corin's eyes narrowed. "The Synthorium's not just power. It's a key. And someone out there wants it—badly."
The team limped back to the Chronochamber, the alarms silent but the hum lingering. Zane's arm stung, his chest heavy with guilt and questions. He'd stopped Mara, saved the vault, but she'd slipped away, and that voice—Extraction imminent—haunted him. Who was after him? And why?
As they reached the chamber, a screen flickered on, showing a news report: EXPLOSION SUSPECT ZANE EDWIN: NEW EVIDENCE SUGGESTS SURVIVAL. A blurry image flashed—Zane, running from the truck that night. His heart stopped. Clara and Sophia would see this. They'd know he was alive—but so would everyone else hunting him.
Before he could process it, the Chronochamber's platform sparked, and a low hum filled the room. The air warped, and a figure appeared, not Mara, not a Harvester, but a man, cloaked in black, his eyes glowing blue like Zane's. "Zane Edwin," he said, voice smooth and cold. "We need to talk."