Chapter 25: Ash and Starlight
July 17–18, 2147, Göbekli Tepe Surface
Selika's POV
The ash-storm raged across the surface, a gray shroud fifty meters wide, its gritty particles stinging Selika Maris Delgado's face as she crouched behind a shattered T-pillar. The ruin stretched ten meters to her left, its glyphs dulled by centuries, mirroring the faint pulse of her neck glyphs under a layer of ash. Her leg throbbed where Silas's shot had grazed her, the bandage soaked through, and the metallic tang of blood mixed with the storm's bitterness on her tongue. The flatbread crumb they'd shared was a distant memory, its salt replaced by the ash's dry bite, but the bond with Reyan—forged in the cavern—held firm, a quiet strength amid the chaos. He knelt five meters ahead, his silhouette a stark outline against the storm, pulse-knife drawn as he scanned for Cult movement."I can feel the Veil shifting," she said, her voice barely audible over the wind. She paused, clutching her rig as a tremor ran through her. "It's not just waiting—it's growing." Reyan turned, his scarred face grim, and moved closer, kneeling beside her. "We'll trace it," he said, his tone steady, a techie's resolve. His hand brushed hers, glyphs flaring—a trust deepened by blood. But as she steadied herself, Inanna's whisper coiled tighter: The cracks will birth me anew. Her vision blurred, and a surreal beat struck—her blood on the glyph-grid had summoned it. The air hummed with an ancient, wordless song, and behind her eyes bloomed a silhouette: a woman veiled in black starlight, eyes weeping rivers of silver. Not Inanna. Not yet. But close—a prophecy, a hallucination, its weight pressing her soul.A Cult drone buzzed overhead, fifteen meters up, its scanner piercing the storm. Mara groaned, dragging herself behind the pillar, her bandaged leg trembling. "Silas is tracking us," she said, her voice rough with her sister's memory. Selika nodded, the vault's hybrid essence—a living machine-temple—echoing in her mind, but the drone's hum grew louder, a prelude to attack.
Reyan's POV
Reyan Al-Mehdi crouched behind the T-pillar, the ash-storm's howl a jagged echo of Mosul's drone strikes, where he'd knelt over bodies and broken maps, hands slick with ash and blood. The surface stretched fifty meters in a gray wasteland, the ruin's glyphs a faint grid ten meters left, and Selika's subdued glyphs ahead snagged him like static on an old wire. Peru's vision of her with Enlil still flickered, but her fight in the cavern had rewired his trust, her blood on the node a proof he couldn't ignore. He gripped his pulse-knife, its weight a techie's lifeline, and scanned the storm, noting the drone's energy signature.Her voice rasped through the wind. "I can feel the Veil shifting," she said, and he crossed the space in four steps, knelt—like he had in Mosul—and stared into her flickering lens. "We'll trace it," he replied, keeping it sharp, though Mosul's ghosts murmured collapse. His fingers brushed her rig, glyphs syncing—a bond he'd solder tight. The drone's buzz sharpened his focus, and Mara's warning—"Silas is tracking us"—set his mind racing. He nodded, calculating. "We fry it, then move." Her grip on his arm, the surreal glint in her eyes, pulled him back. "We'll end this run," he said, his voice a soldier's grit, rooted in memory.
Mara's Perspective
Mara pressed against the pillar, her rig sparking as she patched a signal through the storm's static. Her bandaged leg burned, the cut a twin to her sister's fatal wound, driving her to protect these two with a fury born of loss. The glyphs pulsed like a tech-grid, the surface a hybrid of temple ruin and machine will, and she felt its faint resistance to Silas's pursuit. The Cult drone hovered fifteen meters up, and she triggered a glyph-pulse, frying it with a crack that echoed in the ash. Her breath caught, Kael's silence a fresh ache, but she pushed on, syncing with Reyan's plan. "He's closing in," she warned, her voice steady despite the pain, her resolve a shield.
Climax and Resolution
The storm parted as Cult agents emerged, twenty meters off, their pulse-blades cutting through the ash. Reyan activated a glyph-pulse, arcing energy ten meters out, shocking two agents into retreat. Selika's holo-lens flared, targeting a third, but Inanna's pull staggered her, blood dripping anew. The surreal beat returned—the veiled woman's silver tears pooling in her mind, a mythic pulse guiding her hand. Her blood struck the glyph-grid, and the pulse flared, widening a tunnel exit thirty meters right. Mara rigged a secondary charge, detonating it to bury another agent, debris scattering.Silas advanced, fifteen meters back, his rifle steady, eyes calculating. "Your blood will mend the root," he said, his voice low, a tactician's intent, not a villain's roar. A shot grazed Mara's arm, and she fell, cursing. Reyan lunged, knife clashing with Silas's blade, sparks flying as he parried with precision, forcing him back step by step. Selika dragged herself to the grid, her blood sealing the tunnel, the Veil's hum dimming in her mind. The woman's silhouette faded, leaving a prophetic chill.The cavern shook, sealing the Cult's path, Silas retreating with a strategic pullback, his forces thinning. Reyan supported Selika, his scar pulsing with hers, a bond tempered in ash. Mara staggered up, her blood on the grid, a sister's legacy strengthening the seal. They limped into the tunnel, emerging into a clearer zone fifty meters out. They collapsed against a ruin, rigs dead, sharing a scavenged ration bar. Selika bandaged Mara, Reyan's arm steadied, and their trust deepened, the Veil's shadow a challenge they'd unravel together.