Fragmented Light

Chapter 10: Whispers

Morning in Sanctum didn't just taste like infinity – it weighed like it too. Lyra's legs shook as she stood in her room's doorway, one hand white-knuckled on the frame. The higher gravity of Untia pressed down like a physical presence, making every movement feel like fighting through mineral sludge.

'Fantastic,' she thought, watching her trembling fingers. 'Can't even stand properly. Very impressive. Really showing off that tunnel rat grace.'

But it wasn't just the gravity. The air was wrong – too clean, too pure, too... much. Her lungs, used to filtering everything through layers of crystal dust, didn't know what to do with all this oxygen. Each breath felt like drowning in clarity.

The corridor ahead stretched forever in both directions, sunlight streaming through crystal-glass windows that lined one entire side. No tunnel walls. No comforting stone pressing close. No proper ceiling height that kept you from floating away into the void. Just... space.

Her mining instincts screamed about structural integrity, about the tons of rock that should be pressing down from above. But there was no rock. Just that endless blue nothing outside that they called sky. She tried to take a step and nearly collapsed as another wave of vertigo hit.

"Wow. You are really not handling this well, huh?"

The voice made her startle badly. She spun around – too fast, the gravity catching her off guard – and would have fallen if someone hadn't caught her arm. A young man steadied her with casual strength, his touch precise enough to account for Untia's pull.

"Easy there." Amusement colored his voice, but not mockery. "First day's the worst. Well, first week really. Though I've never seen anyone look quite this green just standing still."

Up close, she could see silver light hadn't fully faded from his skin, tracing geometric patterns across his arms like luminous tattoos. His smile was crooked but kind, and his eyes held the look of someone who remembered their own first days of vertigo.

"I'm Veritas," he said, helping her find her balance. "And you're our new tunnel rat. The one who bent a junction into interesting new shapes."

"Not... on purpose," Lyra managed through lungs that still couldn't figure out this clean air business. Speaking felt strange – no dust to filter the words through, no proper echo off proper stone walls.

"The best stuff never is." He grinned, adjusting his grip as she swayed again. "Seriously though, you look about three seconds from intimate floor contact. Maybe we table the whole walking adventure for a minute?"

She wanted to argue, to prove she could handle this strange new world and its wrong gravity and its too-clean air. But her legs had other ideas, trembling like she'd just worked a double shift in the deep tunnels.

"Here." Veritas guided her to what looked like a window seat. "Take a minute. Let your body remember how bones work. Meanwhile..." Silver light danced between his fingers as he made a complex gesture. "A little trick I learned my first week."

The air... changed. Became denser, more familiar. Like proper tunnel atmosphere instead of this overwhelming purity. Her lungs gratefully seized on the adjustment, finally remembering how to process oxygen properly.

"Better?" He settled against the wall opposite her, watching with clinical interest as some of the green faded from her face. "Took me forever to figure that one out. Kept passing out during training because I couldn't handle the clean air. Very embarrassing. Started a whole new fashion trend of faceplanting during forms."

Despite everything, Lyra felt her lips twitch. "Very... stylish."

"Right? I'm basically a trendsetter." His casual tone didn't quite hide how carefully he was monitoring her condition. "Think you can handle the grand tour? Promise to catch you if gravity decides to rearrange your relationship with the floor."