Page 171 of Remnants: Disruption
I see the rift. It’s over what I think is the Steel Empire. Which is somewhat disconcerting since that’s at least a few hundred miles from New Chicago.
It’s a rift of darkness. Of midnight ink that I just created.
I know I created it. The same way I know Cass is still alive. The same way I knew those spirits were being directed into the afterlife.
It’s instinctive.
I don’t think. I just fly straight through it.
The same strange lights flash. The same way they had when I’d fallen into the void in the Seer’s grotto.
The same voices speak. But their words are strange and repetitive.
Cass’ tether strengthens here. Just a little. Like it’s trying to pull her back together. Like it’s helping me.
“Thank you,” I whisper to no one.
To something far greater than me. Or, perhaps not—
But no one answers—how could they?
There is no one here.
Something cracks again.
And the world reappears.
I see window a little too late. My body reforms, but the momentum carries. There’s a sickening pop as my shoulder strikes the thick panes.
Rolling onto the floor, I cradle Cass between my one useful arm and a plane of shadow that cushions us as we roll back into the center of the room.
I stand slowly and painfully, feeling my shoulder reknit itself.
Cass doesn’t move, but I can hear her breaths—ragged and painful.
My shoulder thunks back into place, and I nearly puke but manage to let out a strained groan before bending to pick her up.
She’s so light. So much lighter than she should be.
Her bed sinks with her weight and I drop to my knees beside her. Sweat beads at her forehead, plastering her dark hair to her scalp and face.
“Cass,” I whisper, stroking her face. “Baby, please.”
Nothing.
She’s alive, but the tether is starting to fray. The void had only done so much.
“Goddamnit,” I hiss, putting my hands on her neck and face. I see the wound now. It’s not even bloody. Like her body hadn’t even bothered to bleed.
Like it knew it was over.
“You can’t die on me,” my tears fall now.
There’s nothing to be done. Nothing to do. I can only sit here and watch this happen.
“This is so fucking unfair,” a torrent of darkness crashes into her bedside table. It fragments like a bomb just went off.
If what had happened to Percy was excruciating, the torment now is rending.
