The world lurched.
For a heartbeat, Eli was weightless—falling through cold air, light and darkness spinning like a kaleidoscope gone mad. Then his boots hit solid ground—stone, smooth and cool—and he stumbled forward, catching himself with Starling.
The air was warmer, tinged with metal and dust, humming faintly with the energy of the ancient city's wards. Holographic lights flickered overhead, Aethel glyphs weaving across the walls in soft pulses of gold and violet. The silence was absolute—cold, heavy, suffocating.
Eli's heart pounded in his chest, relief and anxiety warring for dominance. "Marco?" he called, voice echoing through the empty chamber. "Marco, are you—"
"Signal reestablished," Marco's voice crackled abruptly, sharp with static and unmistakable irritation. "Your disappearance lasted twelve minutes and forty-two seconds. Explain immediately."
Twelve minutes.
Eli's breath caught, heart stuttering painfully in his chest. It couldn't have been—he'd trained, fought, seen visions of the Aethel's fall, pieced together fragments of the binding spell's true purpose. Hours, at least. A full day, maybe.
His mind reeled, struggling to reconcile the disparity. "Twelve minutes?" he repeated, voice rising with disbelief. "That's impossible. I was in there for nearly a day!"
Aura's wings fluttered with a spark of guilt, her light dimming in a wordless apology. She hovered closer, head tilted in a silent question. Her emotions washed over him—confusion, concern, a hint of fascination at the time disparity.
"I—" Eli's voice faltered. "It was… it's not—"
"You are injured," Marco cut in flatly. "Energy levels fluctuated significantly. Argentum Sparks report elevated mana reserves, anomalous mana signatures, and partial contamination. Analyzing."
Holographic light flared—panels scrolling data faster than Eli could track, numbers and symbols blurring into streams of light. Marco's form materialized a few paces away, eyes narrowed and cold, light flickering with every shift.
"Partial contamination?" Eli echoed, looking down at himself. "I'm not—" He stopped, noticing the faint violet glow threading through his veins, pulsing softly in time with the binding spell. "Oh."
"And you sound like my mother," he added under his breath. "I'm fine, just a little... time-sick. Like sea sickness, but for crossing through portals."
Marco's holographic eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch—the AI equivalent of extreme surprise. For a moment, Eli thought he might actually laugh, but instead:
"Time dilation," Marco concluded after a beat. "Localized phenomenon within the portal's energy field. Estimating time differential at one day inside to twelve minutes outside. Intriguing." His eyes narrowed. "Continue. What transpired in the grotto?"
The Report: Unraveling the Grotto's Secrets
Eli exhaled slowly, hands tightening around Starling. How could he possibly compress days of revelation into a simple report? The weight of everything he'd learned pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
"There was… a lot," he admitted, voice low. "The grotto—there were murals, memory portals, glyphs everywhere. I saw…" He hesitated, words catching. "The Aethel's last stand. The city burning. The binding spell—it's not a curse. It's a safeguard."
The admission felt strange on his tongue—like surrendering a piece of himself he'd been clutching too tightly. For so long, he'd hated the binding spell, fought against it, cursed it with every labored breath. And now...
Marco's eyes narrowed, data streams flickering faster around his holographic form. "A safeguard," he repeated, voice flat. "Elaborate."
"It's not restraining my power," Eli said, hand rising unconsciously to touch the silver threads at his neck. "It's... balancing it. There's something inside me—something the Aethel were trying to contain. Something that could burn everything if it got loose."
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His voice cracked slightly on the last words, the enormity of it still sinking in. He wasn't just Eli anymore—he was a vessel, a container for something ancient and terrible.
"Guess that makes me a walking magical pressure cooker," he said with a brittle laugh. "Fun, right?"
Marco didn't laugh. His expression remained impassive, calculations running behind those cold eyes. Aura, however, pulsed with concern and something deeper—a compassion that wrapped around Eli like a warm blanket.
Eli recounted everything—the murals depicting the binding spell's creation, the vision of the Aethel figure's sacrifice, the preserved memories of battle techniques and meditative practices. The purpose of the spell—not to imprison power, but to balance it. To contain something far worse.
As he spoke, the binding spell pulsed softly at his neck, almost... approving. Not chains, but a lifeline.
"And there's more," Eli added, gesturing to Aura. "She's been trying to teach me—to show me how to use the corruption, how to turn it into something else. How to balance it instead of fighting it."
Marco's gaze shifted to Aura, analytical and cold. She drifted slightly behind Eli's shoulder, wings trembling with nervous energy.
Marco's Plan: The Data Collector Automaton
"Time dilation," Marco mused, eyes glinting with something that on a human would have been excitement. "This presents a valuable opportunity." His holographic form flickered, light coalescing into a new projection—a sleek, insect-like automaton with crystalline eyes and segmented limbs.
The thing was both beautiful and unsettling, its crystal components catching the light in fractal patterns while its limbs moved with an eerie, fluid grace. Eli couldn't help but take a small step back.
"That's... creepy," he muttered. "What is it, some kind of mechanical spider?"
Marco's light pulsed with what might have been annoyance. "This unit," he explained briskly, "will autonomously gather data within the grotto. With the time differential, we can acquire weeks' worth of information in mere hours."
Eli's eyes narrowed as protective instinct flared. "It won't interfere with Aura," he warned coldly. "She's part of that place."
Aura hovered closer to his shoulder, her light flickering with a mix of wariness and curiosity. She reached out one tiny hand toward the holographic projection, then pulled back, wings fluttering nervously.
Marco's gaze flickered to Aura, something calculating and cold in his assessment. "Noted," he replied smoothly. "Its function is strictly observational—no direct interaction. Your attachment to this entity is... observed."
Eli bristled at his tone. "She's not an 'entity,' Marco. She's a person. With thoughts and feelings and—" He cut himself off, realizing how defensive he sounded. "Just... make sure your little spider-bot understands that."
Marco inclined his head slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "Her status remains to be determined. The automaton's programming will respect all sapient entities within the grotto."
Aura's light flickered with wary curiosity, but she didn't move from Eli's side, eyes wide and luminous with caution. Eli exhaled slowly, jaw tight. "Fine," he bit out. "But if it touches her—"
"It won't," Marco interjected smoothly. "Now, continue your report. Specifically, what did you learn about the corruption? What is its origin? How does it relate to the Krev?"
Eli hesitated, feeling the weight of Aura's gaze. There was so much more to tell—about the Aethel's desperate last stand, about the binding spell's true purpose, about the meditation techniques that might help him balance the darkness within. But exhaustion was catching up to him, the adrenaline fading to leave him hollow and drained.
"Can we..." he started, then paused, drawing a deep breath. "Look, I know time is critical. I know we need answers. But I've lived through an entire day in twelve minutes, and my brain feels like it's been put through a strainer. Can I just... rest? For a little while?"
Marco studied him for a long moment, data streams flickering as he analyzed Eli's vital signs, energy levels, and who knew what else. Finally, he nodded once—a crisp, economical gesture.
"Thirty minutes," he conceded. "Then we resume preparations. The automaton will be ready by then."
It wasn't much, but it was something. Eli nodded gratefully, already feeling his muscles trembling with fatigue. Aura hovered close, her light gentle and soothing, radiating comfort and understanding.
As he sank to the floor, back against the cool stone wall, Eli felt the binding spell pulse softly at his neck—not chains, but a presence, alert and watchful. Not his enemy, but his guardian.
And for the first time since entering the dungeon, that thought didn't fill him with rage.
The Contemplation: A Moment of Quiet
As Marco's holographic form flickered and dispersed, busy with calculations and preparations elsewhere, Eli let his head rest against the wall. Aura settled beside him, her light dimming to a gentle glow that cast soft shadows across the ancient stone.
"What am I becoming?" Eli whispered, the question barely audible. "What am I meant to be?"
Aura's response came not in words but in emotions—confidence, reassurance, a steady belief that flowed through the binding spell like warm honey. The silver threads pulsed gently at his neck, syncing with his heartbeat.
Eli closed his eyes, breathing deeply. For just a moment, in the quiet darkness behind his eyelids, he could almost see it—threads of light weaving through shadow, not fighting but dancing, a balance as precarious as it was beautiful.
The dark core of Starling pulsed in his hand, slow and steady, almost like a second heartbeat. Not corrupted, but transformed. Not lost, but waiting.
Thirty minutes. And then back into the unknown.
But this time, Eli thought as exhaustion finally claimed him, he wouldn't be facing it alone.