Fragments of Oblivion: Lost Memories

The storm hadn't let up.

Rain hammered against the fractured windows of Sector Twelve's outer district, the air thick with the acrid scent of burning oil and desperation. Shadows flickered across broken walls and narrow alleyways, cast by the dying glow of malfunctioning streetlights. The outer district wasn't a place people came to willingly—it was where they ended up, drained and hollow, after the floating city above had bled them dry.

Elias stepped into the darkness, the coin-like device from the stranger clutched tightly in his palm. It pulsed faintly, its surface warm against his skin, as if it carried its own heartbeat.

He didn't look up. The floating city loomed above, its massive, glittering frame a constant reminder of what had been taken. The storm mirrored the churn in his mind, its relentless roar pressing against his thoughts.

He turned into a narrow alley, the device's pulse growing faster, tugging him forward like a magnetic pull. It felt unnatural, intrusive, as if it was reaching into him for something he wasn't ready to give.

"What the hell did you give me?" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The answer came from the alley itself.

A figure stepped from the shadows ahead, their silhouette barely visible against the storm's fury. Elias froze, instinctively gripping the small tool strapped to his belt—a makeshift pulse-caster he'd built for short-range defense.

"Elias Verdan," the figure said, their voice unnervingly calm. "You came."

The glow from a flickering streetlight caught the edge of their face, revealing a woman with sharp features and eyes that seemed to gleam with an unnatural light.

"You were expecting someone else?" he replied, his tone flat.

The woman tilted her head, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips. "No. I was expecting you to hesitate."

She took a step closer, and for the first time, Elias noticed the faint shimmer around her—a ripple in the air, subtle but unmistakable. Mana.

Elias's grip on the pulse-caster tightened.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low.

"I'm not the one who wants something," she replied, stopping a few paces away. "But I've been sent to test how badly you want what you're looking for."

Before he could respond, she moved.

It wasn't a simple step or a lunge—it was a blur, faster than his eyes could follow. One moment she was standing still, and the next she was on him, her hand raised in a claw-like gesture. The shimmer around her flared, bright and sharp, as if the air itself bent to her will.

Elias barely managed to roll to the side, the force of her strike slamming into the wall behind him. The impact wasn't subtle—it shattered the concrete like it was paper, sending shards flying in every direction.

He stumbled to his feet, his pulse racing.

"Not bad," she said, shaking the dust from her hand. "But if that's all you've got, you're going to disappoint a lot of people tonight."

Elias didn't answer. He didn't waste time thinking, either. His fingers moved instinctively, pulling the pulse-caster from his belt and flicking the switch. The small device hummed to life, emitting a low, steady frequency.

She lunged again, but this time he was ready.

The pulse-caster discharged with a sharp crack, sending out a concentrated wave of electromagnetic force. It wasn't powerful enough to kill, but it sent her sprawling back, her shimmer faltering as she hit the ground.

Elias didn't wait. He surged forward, closing the distance between them. The pulse-caster wasn't designed for prolonged use—it would overheat if he pushed it too far—but he didn't need it to last.

He brought the device down, aiming for her exposed shoulder, but her hand shot up, catching his wrist with an iron grip. Her eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the same light as the shimmer around her.

"Clever," she said through gritted teeth. "But you're not the only one with tricks."

The shimmer around her surged, wrapping her body in a distorted haze. The air between them grew heavy, vibrating with energy that pressed against his chest.

And then he felt it.

It wasn't the raw, overwhelming power of a storm, but something subtler, sharper—like the edges of a broken mirror cutting into his mind. Her mana wasn't just force; it was precision, invasive and calculating.

Elias gritted his teeth as the pressure mounted. His pulse-caster sputtered, the strain too much for its crude components, and she took the opportunity to twist his wrist, forcing him to drop it.

"Do you feel that?" she asked, her voice low and steady. "That's what you're up against. The system you hate—the one you've refused to touch—this is the price it demands."

The weight of her words settled on him, cold and suffocating. He could feel it now, the invisible tendrils of her mana brushing against the edges of his mind, searching for something to take.

"No," he growled, his voice strained.

She smirked. "You don't get to say no."

The shimmer around her flared again, brighter this time, and for a moment he thought it would crush him entirely. But then something changed.

The coin-like device in his pocket flared to life, its surface growing hot against his skin. A sharp pulse radiated outward, cutting through the haze of her mana and sending her reeling back.

Elias staggered to his feet, pulling the device from his pocket. It pulsed faintly in his palm, its glow steady and rhythmic.

The woman stared at him, her expression unreadable.

"That's not possible," she muttered, more to herself than him.

Elias didn't respond. He didn't have answers, only questions, and the storm outside seemed to echo his confusion.

The woman straightened, the shimmer around her dimming slightly. "It seems they were right about you," she said, taking a step back. "But don't get comfortable. Tonight was a test. The real trial begins tomorrow."

Before he could ask what she meant, the air around her rippled, and she was gone, vanishing into the shadows as if she'd never been there.

Elias stood alone in the alley, the rain washing over him. He stared at the device in his hand, its faint glow reflecting in his eyes.

The storm raged on, but his thoughts were louder.

Whatever this was—whatever it had awakened—it wasn't finished with him yet.

Elias turned the coin-like device over in his palm, its faint pulse matching the beat of his heart. The rain drenched him, but he barely noticed. His thoughts raced, replaying the woman's words.

"Tonight was a test. The real trial begins tomorrow."

He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to think about what that meant. Whatever this device was, it had just saved his life. That much was clear. But how? And why did it feel like something was pulling at him from the inside every time it activated?

The storm seemed to grow quieter as he stood there, the shadows of Sector Twelve stretching long and deep around him. For a moment, he almost convinced himself he was alone again.

Then came the sound.

A whisper at first, faint and indistinct, like the murmuring of a crowd heard through thick walls. It grew louder with each passing second, until the alley was alive with it—a cacophony of voices, fragmented and overlapping.

Elias's head snapped up, his pulse spiking. The whispers weren't coming from the rain or the storm. They were coming from the air itself.

And then, just ahead, the shadows moved.

They poured out of the cracks in the alleyway walls, coalescing into a shape that writhed and shifted like smoke caught in a storm. The voices grew louder, sharper, each one distinct and yet impossible to understand.

Elias took a step back, his grip tightening on the device. His pulse-caster was gone, left behind in the struggle with the woman. He was unarmed, exhausted, and cornered.

But he wasn't helpless.

The shadow lunged toward him, its form solidifying into something vaguely humanoid—a creature of blackened limbs and jagged edges, its eyes glowing with the same faint shimmer of mana he'd seen before. It moved like it was made of broken time, its motions erratic and unnerving.

Elias moved without thinking, raising the device and pressing his thumb against its surface. The pulse came again, stronger this time, rippling outward in a wave that tore through the rain.

The shadow froze mid-stride, its form trembling as the pulse washed over it. The voices grew distorted, warping into pained cries that sent a chill down his spine.

But it didn't stop.

The creature surged forward, faster than before, and Elias barely had time to throw himself to the side. It struck the ground where he'd been standing, the impact shattering the concrete and sending shards flying.

Elias hit the ground hard, his breath knocked from his lungs. He rolled onto his back, his mind scrambling for a plan. The device pulsed faintly in his hand, its glow dimming, and he realized with growing dread that it wasn't infinite. Whatever energy it had, it was running out.

The creature turned toward him, its movements jittery and wrong. It raised one arm, the jagged edges of its limb twisting into a blade.

Elias's fingers brushed against his belt, finding nothing but the empty slots where his tools should have been. His inventions, his safety net, were gone. All he had was the device—and himself.

The creature struck, and Elias threw the device forward without thinking. It collided with the shadow's chest, releasing another pulse of energy that lit up the alley in brilliant white.

The creature screamed, its form fracturing as the energy tore through it. The voices grew louder, more desperate, before fading into silence.

Elias scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. The shadow was gone, its remnants dissolving into the rain. But the device lay on the ground where it had fallen, its glow completely extinguished.

He hesitated before picking it up, half-expecting it to burn him. But it was cold now, lifeless in his hand.

For the first time in years, a wave of something unfamiliar swept over him. It wasn't relief. It wasn't satisfaction.

It was fear.

The whispers hadn't just come from the shadow. They had come from inside him.

He staggered back against the wall, his fingers clutching the device like it might anchor him. The storm roared on, but it felt distant now, as though the world itself had pulled away.

And then he heard her voice.

"Why did you forget me?"

The words weren't spoken—they were inside him, threading through his thoughts like a knife. He pressed his free hand to his head, his teeth grinding together. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

But the voice came again, softer this time, full of something raw and broken.

"You let them take me."

Elias fell to his knees, the device slipping from his grasp. The storm swallowed him whole, and the world went dark.