CHAPTER 48: The Forty-Eighth Fracture

“Saaya! SAAYA!” I shouted, shaking her gently.

“Saaya, are you okay?”

Her eyes fluttered open, then slowly turned until our gazes met.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” she murmured, voice calm. “Better now that I know we’re together.”

I exhaled deeply, relief washing over me. A faint smile tugged at my lips.

“As much as I’d love to keep cuddling with you—especially with you on top of me—could you maybe… get off?”

She blinked, then scrambled upright, flustered.

“Where are we?” she asked, scanning the ruined landscape around us.

I pushed myself up slowly, eyes dragging across the devastation.

“This is… my home world.”

Saaya whipped around, disbelief sharp in her voice.

“This is your home world?! How can you even tell?”

I pointed toward a half-destroyed sign jutting from the rubble. On it, a woman in a flowing blue dress held a golden sword.

“That,” I said, “she’s from a really famous series back on Earth. Or… I guess, here.”

She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes.

“Who is she?”

“No one important,” I replied. “Just a fictional character. But that’s how I know—it confirms this really is my world.”

My voice softened as I looked around again.

“But if this is my home… why is it like this? Why is everything destroyed? Why are there bodies everywhere?”

A sick knot twisted in my stomach. Saaya didn’t answer.

Instead, she looked up—slowly, silently—eyes fixed on the empty sky. It was still. Cloudless. Yet somehow… wrong. The air pressed down on us, faint but undeniable, like the world was holding its breath.

I moved beside her, watching her face tighten. Her violet eyes sharpened—not in fear, but recognition. She wasn’t just looking. She was listening.

“Saaya?” I asked quietly. “What is it?”

She didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

“…Something’s watching us.”

A chill crawled down my back.

“What do you mean?”

She turned her head toward me, voice low and steady.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I can’t see anything, but there’s a presence… like something divine. Watching. Waiting.”

I looked up again, the silence deafening. Even the wind was gone.

“You think it’s one of the gods?”

She nodded slowly, hesitating.

“Not one I’ve felt before. It’s not Yuuka. Not Elunara. Not Set. This one feels… older. Colder. Lonelier.”

Her gaze drifted to me.

“And it’s not looking at me. It’s looking at you.”

My stomach dropped. I instinctively stepped in front of her.

“Why? Why now?”

She reached out, gently touching my arm.

“I think… we weren’t pulled here by accident. Someone wanted you back. Maybe they were waiting until you were strong enough to remember.”

Her expression darkened slightly.

“Or maybe… they want to break you. Mentally.”

I grabbed her hand, gripping it tight.

“I won’t break. Not with you by my side.” I turned to her, trying to smile.

“A promise is a promise, right?”

She tightened her grip and gave me the purest, most sincere smile I’d ever seen.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s look around. My powers are working again. I don’t know why, but… it feels good to have them back.”

She nodded with determination. I reached inward and activated my scalars—bending gravity to make us fall eastward.

We passed over ruined cities. Collapsed bridges. Empty streets. Dead statues of people frozen mid-run. Craters. Blood. Abandoned machines and charred bodies.

“This is awful,” Saaya said softly.

I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes forward.

“Let’s go to my home city,” I finally said. “I need to check something.”

“Okay,” she replied without hesitation.

We landed minutes later. The once-beautiful skyline was now just jagged skeletons piercing a gray sky.

“What is this place?” she asked as we touched down.

I stared ahead in silence, heart heavy with memories.

“Before the collapse,” I began, “this place was fifty years ahead of its time. It was a living organism—circuits, glass, and quantum computation.

“Towers of mirrored alloy spiraled into the sky like frozen lightning bolts, their exteriors alive with data, advertisements, and automated traffic systems. Aerial trams danced between buildings on magnetic rails. Drones carried food, supplies, even people.”

I walked slowly as I spoke.

“Now look at it. The solar concrete is cracked and sparking. The server spires flicker with glitching holograms—ghosts stuck in loops. Some still show the weather from five years ago. Some beg for a reboot. One… just keeps smiling.”

Saaya said nothing, only listened.

“The neural grid that connected everyone and everything—broken. Fiber-optic veins hang like exposed nerves. Synthetic gardens turned into black vines, climbing shattered windows like they’re trying to choke the city.”

I stopped near the hollow remains of a defense mech, its arm melted, visor cracked.

“The last battle happened here. Military suits collapsed in the alleys. Drones frozen mid-fire. Some buildings took direct orbital strikes. Precision tech turned desperate in the end.”

I looked up. The sky was thick with ash and failed cloud-seeding tech. A half-lit satellite hung broken in the distance.

“This place used to be beautiful,” I whispered. “It was hope. Advancement. A future.”

Saaya stepped closer, quietly taking my hand again.

“And now?” she asked.

I looked back toward the center of the city.

“Now… it’s a graveyard with a pulse.”