OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: OF CHAINS, PULSE, AND THE HEART

"Follow..."

The voice vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The trio froze for a heartbeat, then exchanged silent nods. Tofer activated a series of drones, sending them ahead to trace the digital echo Dana had left.

Unbeknownst to them, Dana's fingers traced invisible sigil threads on her Aurelius bracelet, bypassing the chamber's psychic wards. She tapped into the private comm lines of the Ardent Court, weaving herself into the network like a ghost. Even Keryn's Architect web, normally impervious to intrusion, bent under Dana's precision.

Keryn's system flickered—just for a heartbeat—as foreign threads laced into her Web. No one should've been able to pierce it. Her eyes widened, breath catching as amber-gold patterns blossomed across her screen. Recognition struck instantly.

"It's her," she whispered, voice trembling with relief despite herself. "Tita Dana... she's guiding them."

For a fleeting moment, Ardent Court battlefield systems shimmered with Dana's presence. Paths, traps, and hazards glowed faintly in amber across the mental plane of anyone synced—even through fractured channels.

Seb felt it first. Faint cues glimmered at the edges of his vision, guiding him through loops and false corridors.
"Overlay's here," he murmured, adjusting Aegus. "She's cutting through the distortions... it's brilliant."

Thres' eyes narrowed, his voice steady. "Keep her presence in mind. It's our anchor."

The trio moved with care. The floor tilted and warped beneath their boots, mirrors fracturing them into infinite echoes. Each shard tried to twist reality, but Seb's resonance scans pulsed rhythmically, snapping them back to the true path.

Then her voice again—softer now, frayed around the edges:
"Stay with me... don't trust the walls."

They obeyed, advancing step by measured step. Tofer's drones swept forward, their sensors catching subtle magnetic bends where sigils warped orientation. Behind them, Thres' aura pushed back the hum gnawing at their minds, his very presence a bulwark against despair.

Finally, the alcove revealed itself. The lattice shimmered faintly, orichalcum lines drawn tight to suppress every ounce of Dana's tactical aura. She stood within, unshackled but visibly drained, her bracelet glinting like a dying ember in the dark. Aurelius—dormant to the eye, alive beneath the surface.

Seb's hand flicked a signal. "Thres, anchor. Tofer, prep Atlas. I'll breach."

Precision took command. Seb's vibration-knife hummed as he carved along lattice junctions, weakening the structure surgically without tripping its alarms. Tofer's drones hovered overhead, kinetic filaments ready to lift or misdirect sigil sensors. Thres' stance was unyielding, absorbing the psychic weight pressing harder now, as though the chamber itself realized its prey was slipping free.

The final line gave way. Dana stumbled forward, eyes unfocused from the chamber's distortions, until Thres steadied her. Even exhausted, her presence carried authority.

"Careful," she breathed. "The chamber... it leaves traces. Even when you're out, it lingers."

Illusions swarmed instantly—three false Danas crowding the corridor, each beckoning silently. Thres' grip held steady on the real one, while Tofer's drones screamed warnings. Seb's blade hummed at killing frequency.

"Ignore them," Dana whispered, amber light pulsing faintly at her wrist. "Illusion feeds on doubt. Stay with me."

Tofer's comm flared green. Without hesitation, he linked to Court command, voice clipped and efficient. "Tita Dana is safely secured."

There was a pause, only the faint static of distance filling the line, before Lyle's voice answered—measured, calm, final.

"Good. Escort her to safety Now. Dad is already waiting outside Blackthorn City."

"Wait—what about Xythe and the others?" Thres asked, tension lining his voice.

"They can manage it," Lyle assured, his tone flat but resolute. "Keryn and I will guide them. Focus on Tita Dana. Move. If she's hurt, the Princess will not take it."

Meanwhile, Alexie, Xythe, and Saichel pressed forward. The air warped around them, thick with the hum of crimson sigils that pulsed like a predator's heartbeat.

Without warning, the Abyss convulsed. The corridor roared and split in three, walls grinding together with a screech that shook their bones. Orichalcum shards erupted from the floor, spearing upward. The panels beneath their boots collapsed into black voids. Energy currents whipped through the passage, tearing their formation apart.

Alexie's bracelets blazed, her veil scattering in fractured sparks as the surge dragged her into a collapsing tunnel. Saichel's wires lashed out, Chronos hissing as he anchored himself—"Xythe!"—but the magnetic current ripped him backward into the dark.

And then silence.

Xythe slammed against the ground, dust and metallic rain burning his lungs. His comms hissed with dead static. Alone. The Abyss had swallowed the others whole, leaving only the spectral pulse-thread tugging faintly against his skin—Riyee's heartbeat, the single path forward.

He took a sharp breath, eyes narrowing on the spectral threads. Every movement, every minor spike of adrenaline or fear acted as a breadcrumb through the labyrinth.

A faint pulse drew him down a twisting corridor, narrow and suffocating. The sigils glowed brighter here, an almost sentient presence pressing against his mind. And then, he saw it—a faint rhythmic heartbeat embedded in the stone, weak but unmistakable. Hollow Chamber.

Xythe's steps quickened. The corridor opened into the ritual-prison. There she was—Riyee. Conscious, pale, and exhausted, her body slumped against the orichalcum cuff restraints, her eyes flickering with defiance.

Her wrists strained weakly against the Orichalcum cuffs, skin raw where the metal bit into her. Even drained, she tried to rise, jaw set with stubborn defiance. "You came," she whispered, breath trembling but eyes steady, a fleeting smile breaking through. "I knew you would."

The effort cost her. Her body gave way, slumping as the last of her strength collapsed into the chains.

Xythe cursed, dropping to his knees. The Orichalcum cuffs bit deep into her wrists, siphoning her strength and tethering her to the chamber.

He drew Hecate, loaded with Orichalcum Bullet—a condensed, destructive essence capable of annihilating any known material, even Orichalcum.

The shot rang out once, precise and cold. The cuffs shattered in a burst of sparks and shredded Orichalcum fragments. He lifted her effortlessly, pulse threading against his arm, ready to move.

But then, a voice curled through the chamber—smooth, mocking, too close.
"Well, well... what a reunion."

Lucian Ortega stepped from the shadows, his mask glinting under the crimson sigils. A grin cut across his face as his gaze flicked to Riyee, still limp in Xythe's arms.

"She told you she knew you'd come..." His tone dripped with amusement, finishing her words like he'd been listening all along. "Adorable. I almost believed her myself."

The chamber shuddered as he tapped a sigil etched into the floor, scarlet lines surging alive, sealing every exit. "But you didn't think I'd let it end there, did you?"

Xythe's jaw tightened. The chamber's red light painted his face in harsh strokes. "Step aside, Lucian. You won't touch her again."

Lucian's smirk widened, amusement in his posture. The chamber trembled subtly as he tapped a sigil embedded in the floor, activating hidden traps.

Xythe adjusted his grip on Riyee. Her pulse was faint but steady now, a lifeline guiding him. He moved with surgical precision, ready to strike, every instinct screaming.

The rescue wasn't over. It had only begun.