Page 100 of GlitchBorn Heart

I don’t think I can do this anymore. One day, LINK just might succeed in my erasure, and I just may allow it.

Just as my thoughts turn disparaging, I see light. A single thread pulses brighter than the rest, calling to me like it recognizes me. I don’t think. I just do. Desperation overriding caution.

I reach for it. I have no idea where it will take me. I don’t know what it will cost. But standing still in the place that fills with void darkness feels like death. This at least feels like a chance. I only hope, wherever I land, it isn’t Vikktor’s office.

A gentle pull, and I can see the lab. Thank the stars. The window Kael made for me.

I instantly recognize the icy wash of white and steel and the sound of servers humming in a steady rhythm. Systems are only half-back after Eli’s void surge, but it’s something. The window program seems to be only half-recovered as well. I can see out, but I don’t think anyone can see me.

Kael, of course, is bent over the main console, a white T-shirt clinging to his hard chest underneath his black designer suit. I had forgotten in this past day or so just how beautiful he is, in his own dark and lethal way.

His eyes are steadfast on a line of code scrolling across his monitor. He moves to the keyboard and starts typing, fingers hovering over a map of VikkCorp. With a quick swipe, he nonchalantly transfers it to the center console screen suspended above him. The lines flicker to life, routes and blind spots, a complete layout of VikkCorp Tower1.

Outside, the skyline has returned, neon lit again with no scar of black. He’s done it. He’s brought the city back to life.

I can see Ash, and also Ember. They’re working together on something that makes both their foreheads wrinkle.

Together. For me and for Eli. I’m sure.

I’m almost overjoyed with the feeling of family again. Almost.

Ash leans back in his chair. His lazy grin tucked away for once. His eyes are tracking every line of code Kael feeds into the system, searching for hidden frequencies. Ember sits very close beside him, a copper flame of focus as she scrolls logs. A cybernetic arm lays across her desk, the fingers opening and closing eerily without assistance. Something like a cold wind blows up my neck. I shouldn’t be creeped out by this; the way Kael talks, that could very well be my arm someday.

Thin streaks of bright blue spark in the air in my peripheral vision, and for the first time in hours or days, shapes return. Streams bloom around me like open windows punched through the dark. The program continues to render until it’s finally clear enough for me to see details.

My soul yearns. I press my palm against the window of code, but my presence is still a ghost. As I suspected, they still can’t see me, not yet, but I can hear fragments of their conversation, plans being discussed. It’s barely audible through the loud angry music Kael is playing. He tends to listen to the screamy stuff when he’s immersed in his own head. Ash taps his leg to the beat. They both turn to each other with scowling faces and in unison let out a metal scream along with the song.

Why is this so sexy? My code must be corrupted.

Ember rolls her eyes. “Men,” she says to herself, then returns to her logs.

Kael looks up suddenly, as if he feels someone watching him. He freezes, lips pursed, eyes narrowed deep in thought. For a beat, I think, no, I know, he senses me. He turns back to the lines of code with a new kind of focus. The look on his face tells me everything, the determination of a man who would dismantle an entire system to reclaim what he only touched once.

“We won’t have much time,” Ash mutters, tapping his finger to the drumbeat against the map projection. “Vikktor’s still in NeoTokyo. It’s the only opening we’re going to get.”

Kael’s shoulders are taut with tension; that coiled control I both hate and crave. He peels off his jacket and lays it over the chair next to him. As he turns back, I catch sight of his dragon winding down his back through the thin white fabric of his shirt. It pulses, just once. So faint, I blink to make sure I’m seeing clearly.

He has no magic. I know that. Everyone knows that. So why does it look like he does?

I tell myself it’s my imagination. But it could be me. My power weaves itself into things it shouldn’t, leaving traces where there should be none. Maybe proximity is enough. Maybe I’m projecting something onto him that doesn’t belong there.

Another reason we would never work.

Still, it baffles me. Kael Ryudon is all discipline and denial. A man built of respect and rules he swears are necessary. Magic doesn’t choose men like him. They simply have no use for it.

He turns back toward the screens, as if he knows I’m watching him, jaw clenched, completely still. I can’t shake the thought that if power were looking for a host, if it were searching for someone capable of holding it without corruption, it would choose a man like him.

I feel almost sorry for him. I don’t pity him, I just better understand him now. He’s always been exceptional, but I can’t imagine standing so close to the extraordinary and never being able to touch it. To be as capable as he is and never once feel that spark ignite inside your own skin just further explains why he clings to discipline like a lifeline. Kael lives surrounded by people with power. And it’s not just magic; it’s also corporate power and elitist wealth. All day long he studies it, contains it, controls it, yet remains forever on the outside looking in.

As much as I struggle with my own powers, I don’t think I could ever be without it. Magic is chaos and hunger and heat. It’s terrifying, but it also makes me feel alive. Kael has spent his entire life working hard for what he wants, while the rest of us threaten to take more than we’re willing to give. Maybe that’s safer. Maybe it’s lonelier.

Perhaps I’m being too hard on him. Sure, he’s brilliant and meticulous, but he’s also ruthless. He’s earned the name “Anomaly Hunter.”

“This just isn’t sustainable.” Ember is flustered. She blows out a breath that scatters her hair. “DreamNet’s still unstable. Too many U21s dropped offline during the surge, and now they’re all trying to get back in.”

Ash doesn’t look up. “And that’s probably only half of them. Some haven’t come online yet. They’re still drained. If we don’t contain him, the next surge will collapse more than DreamNet. Your whole system could disappear, Kael.”

“I’m aware.” Frustration bleeds from Kael. “Eli’s surge gutted DreamNet for half the U21s. The other half in GameNet were also affected. They’ve scattered. Some are trying to reconnect.” Kael swipes the screen. “Others are waking up with little or no magic. They’ll heal, but now they’ll be angry, resentful. Most are probably joining the rebellion as we speak, thinking this was all the Corporation’s doing.”