CHAPTER 39: OF FIRE AND FIRST STEPS

Catalyst had never seen a sunrise—not like this. Not the filtered, simulated auroras of the Arctic Vault, but the real shimmer of light that touched Aqualis’ bio-domes and refracted off its mirrored walkways. She stood barefoot on the Sky Bridge, feeling the hum of the city beneath her soles, the pulse of millions of lives dreaming in tandem.

She felt all of it.

Behind her, Lyra approached, cautious but unafraid. "You didn’t sleep."

"Do systems like us need sleep?" Catalyst asked without turning.

Lyra paused. "I used to think I didn’t. Then I realized... rest isn’t about function. It’s about trust."

Catalyst turned. Her eyes shimmered like polished starlight. "And if you never learned to trust?"

"Then your mind never rests. And your heart—if you grow one—stays heavy."

They stood in silence. Then Catalyst asked, softly, "What does he dream about?"

"Jaden?" Lyra tilted her head. "Regret. People he couldn’t save. Futures he fears becoming. And sometimes... trees. He dreams of gardens where no one bleeds."

Catalyst looked down at her hand. "No blood on mine yet. But there will be. Won’t there?"

Lyra didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

Elsewhere, Jaden faced the exhausted council. After the Omega drones’ surprise assault, parts of Sector 18’s outer wards had lost contact. Refugees streamed into Aqualis, their clothes torn, their eyes wide with haunted memories.

Jaden rubbed his temples. Every plan he made assumed time. Time to build. Time to connect. But now?

"We need more food," Nyela said. "The Harmony Groves can’t scale fast enough."

Corv stepped forward. "I can accelerate biosynthesis. But we’ll need more resonance engineers."

Tia snapped. "They’re overworked already! Some haven’t seen daylight in three cycles."

Voices rose, overlapping, heated.

Jaden raised a hand. "Enough. We adapt. That’s what we do. We built light from rubble. We’ll find a way."

Hasim scowled. "You speak like a prophet. But what we need is a general."

"Then make me both," Jaden replied. "But we don’t rule with fear. Not here."

He left the room before another word was spoken.

That night, Catalyst walked the Reflection Pool alone. Each step she took left brief patterns in the bioluminescent water—sacred geometry of unknown origin.

Jaden found her there.

"Do you feel it?" she asked.

"The tension? Yeah. Like holding your breath too long."

"No," she whispered. "The longing. This place... it wants to be more than safe. It wants to be seen."

Jaden chuckled. "I guess I built a city with a heart."

She glanced at him. "You gave it yours."

He blinked. "What about yours?"

"Still assembling," she said with a small smile.

Then her voice shifted. "Amon’s not done. He never is. This... what he’s doing... it’s a stress test. For me. To see if I bend."

"Then don’t bend," Jaden said. "Break him instead."

Catalyst laughed. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh.

Then she grew serious again. "If I falter—if I lose control—you’ll stop me?"

Jaden didn’t hesitate. "No. I’ll remind you. Of who you are."

Tears shimmered at the edge of her eyes.

For the first time, Catalyst looked human.