Chapter 149
The cavern I enter stretches out and upward like a cathedral. The glowing veins embedded in the rock throw demonic-looking light across the walls, shimmering with every ripple of steam rising from unseen fissures below.
Cora and I step cautiously toward the edge of a massive fissure that cuts through the chamber. The drop is dizzying, revealing a labyrinth of interconnected tunnels and chambers below, their depths lost in a shifting haze of mist and light.
“What is this place?” I whisper, my voice small against the vastness.
Cora doesn’t answer immediately. Her gaze sweeps the chamber with an intensity I’ve rarely seen, her expression a mix of reverence and something else—an edge of calculation. The ethereal light catches her features, softening the sharp lines of her face and making her look younger, almost fragile, if not for the weight of her stare.
Then I see it. Among the natural topography of stone and molten rock, something distinctly unnatural emerges. Markings—symbols etched into the walls and floor. Nearby, a partially buried machine juts from the ground, half buried in shards of volcanic rubble, its oddly organic design strangely familiar.
“This is Enkian, but how? Wake said his people haven’t had technology like this in centuries” I say, stepping closer to the machine. My heart beats faster as I reach out, my fingers hovering over the nearest carving. “But it doesn’t look ancient.”
Cora crouches beside the machine, her fingers brushing its surface. She studies it with the kind of reverence reserved for something holy, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s not,” she murmurs, her voice almost lost in the cavern’s vastness. “This design… It’s far more advanced than anything I’ve encountered before.”
I glance at her, suspicion blooming in my chest. “But you have seen something like this before, haven’t you? Or something close?”
Her silence is deafening.
“Come on,” I press, my frustration rising. “You’ve been studying Enkian artifacts for decades. Don’t tell me you don’t have any theories about what this is.”
Cora straightens, brushing dust from her hands. Her expression shifts, her features smoothing into an unreadable mask. “Ideas are worthless without proof,” she says evenly, her voice infuriatingly calm. “Speculation serves no one, least of all us.”
I narrow my eyes, a bitter laugh bubbling up. “Why can’t you let me decide that for myself? I care about the Enkian too. Or did you think I came all this way because I didn’t have anything better to do?”
Her eyes flash with a sudden spark of anger. “This isn’t about respect—”
“Isn’t it?” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intend. “I thought if you couldn’t respect me as an adult, you’d at least respect me as a scientist.”
The faint sound of steam hissing fills the tense silence between us. Cora draws a deep breath, but before she can speak, my frustration boils over.
“I’m not some clueless kid tagging along for the ride, Grandma. I’ve been assaulted, held against my will, manipulated, experimented on, and nearly killed more times than I can count. And I’m still here. I couldn’t turn back even if I wanted to. Wake needs me. Electra’s people need me. And whether you’ll admit it or not, you need me, too.”
The words hang between us, crackling with tension. For a moment, I think she’s going to lash out or walk away, but instead, her shoulders sag slightly. When she speaks, her voice is low and bitter, carrying the weight of years I can’t fully comprehend.
“You think you’re ready for what’s coming? You’re naive, ignorant, reckless. I was raised to lead my people, Phoebe. I’ve bled for them, sacrificed for them. And because of one moment of weakness when I was little more than a child, my birthright is gone. The goddess I dedicated my life to decided I was unworthy and moved on without me.”
Her voice cracks, and the raw emotion in it pulls me up short. My anger falters, replaced by an unfamiliar ache. “I… I don’t think that’s what—”
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” she snaps, her voice cold and sharp. “Or what I want. We are pawns to forces far beyond our understanding. I thought that by taking myself out of the equation—by doing the work no one else would to understand the threat to us—I was following Electra’s will. I found the lost tribes. I helped bring them together. I underwent the ritual and regained my body, thinking my destiny was finally coming together.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “But Electra’s gift didn’t return with it. I wasn’t worthy.”
“Grandma…” I reach for her, but she takes a step back, her shoulders trembling.
“You can be dealt shit hand after shit hand,” she continues, her voice breaking, “and still you’re expected to push through with a smile because that is what it means to lead. That is what I am trying to do.”
The weight of her words sinks into me, and suddenly I see her differently. She’s not just my enigmatic, self-assured grandmother. She’s a woman who’s been rolling with the punches for nearly a century, carrying burdens I can’t begin to fathom.
“You’re not unworthy,” I say, my voice soft. “No one could look at everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve built in spite of it, and say you’re not fit to lead. But I don’t think it was ever supposed to come down to just you. Or me.”
I step closer, taking her hands in mine despite the way they tremble. “We’re stronger together.”
The moment our hands touch, a spark jumps between us—not lightning, but something deeper, something ancient. It’s powerful, vibrating through my very core, and I know it comes from both of us.
The cavern groans in response, the ground trembling beneath our feet. Cracks spiderweb up the walls, and before either of us can react, the ceiling collapses.
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