Chapter 22: Shards of Trust
July 14–15, 2147, Göbekli Tepe Cavern Pocket
Selika's POV
The cavern pocket was a claustrophobic refuge, its walls a mere ten meters apart, slick with moisture and etched with faint glyphs that glowed faintly under Selika Maris Delgado's holo-lens. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of blood and scorched metal from the collapsed entrance twenty meters behind them. Her neck glyphs flickered erratically, the shard's echo still thrumming in her rig, now a dull ache rather than a burn. She sat against a jagged rock, legs trembling from the node's fusion, and wiped crusted blood from her chin—a memento of the vault's trial. The flatbread's salt lingered on her tongue, a bitter anchor from their brief respite, but the silence between her and Reyan felt heavier now, a fragile trust tested by the root's power. She glanced at him, fifteen meters across the cavern, his silhouette tense as he examined the rubble."I can still feel it," she said, her voice low, breaking the quiet. She paused, drawing a shaky breath. "The Veil's not gone. It's… waiting." Reyan turned, his scarred face catching the glyph-light, and walked over, kneeling beside her. "We crippled it," he said, his tone pragmatic, a techie's assessment. "But yeah, it's not dead." His hand brushed hers, glyphs flaring briefly—a silent reassurance. She leaned into it, the rift narrowing, but Inanna's whisper crept back: The blood will rise again. Her rig sparked, and she clenched her fist, fighting the pull.A distant rumble shook the cavern, dust sifting from the ceiling. Mara limped over, her bandaged arm soaked with fresh blood, her face pale but resolute. "Silas is digging through," she said, her voice tight with the memory of her sister's death. "We've got maybe an hour." Selika nodded, the tech-myth hybrid of the vault—a living machine—settling in her mind, but a vision hit: Enlil's colossus reforming, its gaze on their blood. She gasped, gripping Reyan's arm, and he steadied her. "We'll face it together," he murmured, a vow etched in his scars.
Reyan's POV
Reyan Al-Mehdi crouched by the rubble, the collapsed entrance a chaotic pile of stone and twisted metal ten meters away. The cavern's damp air pressed against his scars, echoing Mosul's suffocating smoke, and Selika's faint glyphs across the space gnawed at his trust. Peru's vision of her with Enlil lingered, but the vault's fight had shifted something—her blood on the node, her scream against Inanna, proof of her fight. He adjusted his pulse-knife, its weight a techie's lifeline, and scanned the glyphs on the walls, their circuits hinting at a defense mechanism.Her voice broke his focus. "I can still feel it," she said, and he crossed to her, kneeling. "We crippled it," he replied, keeping it practical, though Mosul's ghosts whispered failure. His hand brushed hers, glyphs syncing—a trust he'd rebuild. The rumble hit, and he tensed, glancing at the ceiling. Mara's approach sharpened his resolve. "Silas is digging through," she said, her sister's loss in her eyes. He nodded, calculating. "We rig a trap," he said, his mind on circuits and explosives. Selika's gasp pulled him back, and he gripped her arm. "We'll face it together," he said, meaning it this time.
Mara's Perspective
Mara pressed against a pillar, her rig sparking as she patched a signal through the cavern's interference. The bandage on her arm was crimson, the cut a twin to her sister's fatal wound, driving her to protect these two. The glyphs pulsed like circuits, the vault a hybrid of tech and temple, and she felt its will resisting Silas. A Cult probe drone buzzed overhead, five meters up, and she ducked, triggering a static burst that fried it. Her breath hitched, Kael's silence a fresh wound, but she pushed on, rigging a trap with Reyan's input. "We've got an hour," she told them, her voice steady despite the pain.
Climax and Resolution
The rumble grew, stone cracking twenty meters above as Silas's forces breached. Cult agents poured in, fifteen meters off, pulse-blades humming. Reyan sprang, knife clashing, sparks flying as he disarmed one. Selika's holo-lens flared, dropping another, but Inanna's pull slowed her, blood trickling. Mara triggered the trap—a glyph-charged explosion—shattering the tunnel, debris burying three agents. Silas emerged, thirty meters back, his rifle glowing. "Your blood feeds the root!" he roared, a shot grazing Reyan's side. He fell, cursing, but Selika lunged, her rig unleashing a static wave, staggering Silas.They retreated to the altar, its cracked node pulsing. Mara collapsed, leg bleeding, but pointed. "Override it—blood and code!" Selika and Reyan pressed their hands to the node, blood seeping in. Visions hit—Enlil's exile, Inanna's binding, the Veil's fracture deepening. The node flared, silencing the thrum, the web dimming further. Silas fired, a bolt searing Selika's shoulder, but Reyan tackled him, knife at his throat. The cavern shook, sealing Silas under rubble, his screams fading.They slumped by the altar, rigs smoking. Selika bandaged Mara's leg, her own wound throbbing. Reyan traced his scar, Mosul's weight lifting slightly. They shared flatbread, fingers brushing, the rift healed in battle's forge. Mara smiled weakly, her sister's memory a quiet strength. The vault's echo faded, but the Veil's shadow lingered, a challenge ahead.