CHAPTER 1475: STORY 1475: THE SHARD BETWEEN

The cavern held its breath. No dripping stone. No shifting echoes. Only the thin wail of the vessel and the hollow thunder of their own hearts.

Elena’s hand dug into Mira’s wrist, a lifeline and a shackle both. The ember inside her snarled against the cry, demanding rejection—yet beneath that fury, it quivered with something uncomfortably close to recognition.

Mira leaned forward, trembling. “Elena... if we turn away now, it will keep chasing us. Chasing everything.” Her glasslike eyes glittered. “But if we complete it—maybe the hunger ends.”

Elena hissed through her teeth. “Or maybe it just begins with us.”

The vessel’s outstretched hands shook. Ember in one. Crystal in the other. Its faceless head tilted, as though pleading for them to understand. The cry broke again, weaker this time, nearly collapsing into silence.

The marrow’s constructs in the walls pressed harder—faces without detail, arms without joints, every shape reaching. They weren’t screaming. They weren’t attacking. They ached.

The ember in Elena’s ribs flared, searing her chest. The child’s flame inside the vessel faltered in response, guttering like a candle in wind. She felt it—its weakness mirrored in her marrow.

Mira’s body spasmed. A sharp crack split across her shoulder as a shard of crystal pushed through skin. She gasped, falling to her knees. “It’s... calling me,” she choked. “If I don’t answer, it will... break me.”

Elena dropped beside her, fury warring with terror. “Then let me carry it. I’ll burn it out before I let it take you.”

But Mira shook her head violently, hair scattering like broken glass in the marrow-light. “No. If you touch it, it’ll choose fire. And it will burn the world to ash.” Her gaze locked to Elena’s, raw and pleading. “It has to be crystal. It has to be... me.”

The vessel swayed, light flickering in its chest. Both hands trembled now, ember and crystal dimming together. The cry faltered into silence.

Elena’s breath came ragged. She could see it—the shard inside the vessel pulling toward Mira’s veins, yearning for completion. And the ember inside her... part of it wanted to let go, to give the vessel its fire and end this torment.

“No,” Elena growled, standing between Mira and the faceless child. “I won’t let you decide for us.”

She raised her ember hand. The flame flared so bright the cavern shook. The reaching faces recoiled, dissolving back into the walls.

The vessel staggered, keening, its hollow chest spasming like it had been struck. For the first time, its faceless head tilted not in plea—but in pain.

“Elena, stop!” Mira screamed, clutching her cracking ribs. “You’ll kill it!”

“That’s the point!” Elena roared.

But as she surged forward, ember blazing, the vessel did something it had never done before.

It fell to its knees. Hands still outstretched. Chest open, hollow flame guttering. Not resisting. Not defending.

Submitting.

And in that posture—Elena’s fury faltered. Because she had never seen the marrow bow.

Not once.