The truck was useless now, crumpled against the tree. Clara and Hensley trudged through the dense forest under the pale light of dawn, the silence between them broken only by their labored breaths and the faint hum of the Node in Clara''s bag.
Hensley clutched his side, wincing. “Next time, remind me not to crash into anything.”
“Next time, remind me not to let you drive,” Clara shot back, managing a faint smirk despite the tension that knotted her stomach.
They reached a shallow stream, the cold water stinging their feet as they crossed. On the other side, Clara paused, her eyes scanning the horizon. The Node’s warmth in her bag seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat, as if urging her forward.
“What are we even running toward?” Hensley asked, breaking the silence. “Daniel’s lab is still miles away, and we don’t know what else is out here.”
“We’re not running,” Clara said, though she wasn’t sure if she believed it. “We’re moving. There’s a difference.”
“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” Hensley muttered, but he fell silent as Clara froze.
There it was again—that pressure in the air, like static electricity brushing against her skin. Her senses sharpened, her eyes darting to the treeline. The Node began to hum louder, its glow faintly visible through the fabric of her bag.
“We’re being watched,” Clara whispered.
Hensley’s grip tightened on his gun. “Another Custodian?”
“I don’t think so,” Clara said. This felt different—less mechanical, more... human. She scanned the shadows, and then she saw it: a figure cloaked in black, standing perfectly still beneath the trees.
“Show yourself!” Clara demanded, stepping forward.
The figure didn’t move at first, then slowly stepped into the light. A tall man, his face partially hidden by a hood, regarded them with piercing gray eyes. His presence was imposing, but it was the emblem stitched onto his chest—a silver spiral encircling a star—that made Clara’s breath catch.
“Blackthorn lineage,” the man said, his voice smooth but laced with authority. “You carry what does not belong to you.”
“And who the hell are you?” Hensley asked, raising his weapon.
The man ignored him, his eyes locked on Clara. “The Node must be returned to the Custodians. Your interference jeopardizes the Directive.”This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Clara squared her shoulders, her fear giving way to defiance. “If you want it, you’ll have to explain what the Directive even is.”
The man’s expression darkened. “The Directive ensures balance. The Node was never meant for your hands.”
“Well, it seems to think otherwise,” Clara shot back. She pulled the Node from her bag, its glow intensifying as she held it. “It responded to me. It recognizes me.”
The man’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t place—fear, perhaps? “The Node recognizes only the bloodline. You are a descendant of Jonathan Blackthorn, but you lack the knowledge to wield its power.”
“Then teach me,” Clara said. Her voice was steady, but inside she was trembling. “If the Node is connected to me, I need to understand why. I need to know what my family was hiding.”
For a moment, the man said nothing. Then he stepped closer, his movements deliberate and measured. “The truth is not yours to claim. But if you insist on pursuing it, know this: the Node is not just a key—it is a trigger. And every moment you hold it, you risk unleashing forces far beyond your control.”
<hr>
A Dangerous Offer
Before Clara could respond, the air around them shifted again. The pressure was suffocating now, and the forest seemed to darken as a low hum filled the space. The man tensed, his hand moving to a weapon at his side.
“They’re here,” he said sharply.
“Who’s here?” Hensley demanded, his voice rising.
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled a small device from his belt—a sleek, metallic orb that pulsed with blue light. He threw it to the ground, and a translucent barrier sprang up around them just as the first shadowy figures emerged from the trees.
Clara’s stomach turned as she saw them. They weren’t Custodians, but something worse. Their forms were humanoid but twisted, their bodies encased in armor that shimmered like oil on water. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and their movements were jerky, like marionettes on invisible strings.
“Harvesters,” the man muttered. “Drawn by the Node’s signal.”
Clara tightened her grip on the Node, its glow brightening in response. “What do they want?”
“The same thing everyone wants,” the man said grimly. “Control.”
The Harvesters circled the barrier, testing its strength with sharp, clawed hands. One of them let out a guttural screech, and Clara felt the sound reverberate in her chest.
“We can’t stay here,” she said, her voice trembling. “This barrier won’t hold forever.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re right. But leaving means trusting me.”
Hensley barked a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
Clara ignored him, her eyes locked on the stranger. “You know what the Node is, don’t you? You know why it’s connected to me.”
“I know enough to keep you alive,” the man said. “But if you want answers, you’ll have to make a choice. Surrender the Node and walk away, or come with me and face what’s coming.”
Clara hesitated, the weight of the Node pressing against her palms. She thought of Wexler’s words, Daniel’s warning, and the Custodian’s chilling ultimatum.
Her heritage had brought her here, but it was her choice that would decide what happened next.
“I’m not walking away,” she said finally. “If the Node is connected to me, then I need to see this through.”
The man nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes. “Then stay close. And don’t let go of that Node.”
As the barrier flickered and the Harvesters closed in, Clara felt a strange sense of resolve. The truth about the Node—and her family—was within reach. But the cost of uncovering it was growing with every step.
And the echoes of the Blackthorn legacy were louder than ever.