Spirebreaker

Fractured Memories

Prologue

The sky was pitch-black and choked with ash. Flames ravaged the forests and bodies floated across the boiling lakes, their flesh stripped from bone. Towering Spires, the hallmark of my city, fell, while Anurans fled beyond the walls, desperate to escape. I watched the horrors unfold from atop a hill and trembled. My father stood beside me with my younger brother resting in his arms.

As the eldest, I had to be strong, but strength abandoned me as I watched my home fall apart.

"Where is Mother?" my brother asked, tears streaming down his face. The question pierced deeper than the screams below, and I looked at him, grief welling up in my heart. I wanted to tell him that she was safe, that we would find her, but I couldn't.

Before I could say a word, I awoke.

My skin was cold, and a gentle breeze swished through my room. My brother lay in his bed a few feet away, sleeping peacefully. For a moment, the smell of ash still clung to the air; then it faded. I looked around before glancing out at the bustling city from my balcony.

It had just been a dream. At least that was what I told myself.

First, there was silence. Then the smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils as she lay motionless in the darkness. Muscles ached as she pushed herself to unsteady feet, and the world swayed for a moment as dizziness washed over her. Without thinking, she raised her wrist and tapped it twice; a narrow beam of light shot forward from a metal band, illuminating her surroundings.

What she saw froze her in place.

The land was in ruins, and dismembered bodies littered the blackened earth. Twisted metal rose from the ground, and barely 20 meters away, a massive crater churned thick smoke into the night sky. She turned slowly, searching for something familiar. Instead, she found a hole in her mind. Her name, her face, and her home had faded away. Only one thought remained clear, echoing over and over again, louder each time.

“GET TO TURIM ALBA”

Ignoring the pounding in her head, she searched the wreckage and covered her nose as the stench of death thickened. A plasma rifle lay clutched in the arms of a headless corpse. She pried it free, and her body moved on its own. Plasma mag loaded, power core 76%, rifle operational. She stared at the weapon in disbelief. “How did I know how to do that?”

“Help… me…” a small voice croaked.

She hurried across the debris on still shaky legs, following the faint cries until she found the source. A young Anuran lay pinned beneath metal and stone from the waist down.

“Great Anura,” she breathed, dropping the rifle.

His chest was stained red, pierced clean through by a jagged piece of metal. Blood soaked what remained of his uniform, and his scorched skin peeled in several places. Dropping to her knees beside him, she took his trembling hand.

“Easy, I'm here.”

Her eyes scanned the debris, assessing what could be pushed away. “Hold on,” she said, straining against a large piece of metal. He groaned as it gave way, coughing up more blood.

“What happened here?”

“Missile explosions,” he rasped. “Heretic… ambush.”

She had hoped for some answers, but was left with more questions. “Do you know who….” The words died on her lips as she turned to him. His hands lay limp at his side, eyes staring at nothing. He was dead. For a moment she remained beside him. Then her gaze drifted to the rubble covering his lower body, and she pushed it away.

Everything below his waist was gone.

She clasped her hands and muttered an old prayer to Anura, one she couldn't remember learning. A loud hum pierced the darkness as a dropship emerged and flew towards the crater. She immediately took off running, rifle in hand, leaping over rocks and wreckage in search of cover. A large wrecked vehicle came into view, and she slipped behind it. 6 figures hopped out of the dropship and began to search the area for survivors. A nearby forest stretched beyond the wreckage. The towering wall of trees promised safety, but nearly 30 meters of open ground stood in her way. She scanned the wreckage desperately for another way out, but movement caught her eye.

A small figure casually hopped past her. It was a froglet no older than 8, in a glowing white gown that swayed slightly with every hop, untouched by the ash covering the ground. She watched the girl move without a care in the world, skipping over twisted metal and mangled bodies as if wandering through a summer meadow.

Where could this child have come from?

Without realising it, she began to follow the little girl who hopped and twirled around the wreckage. The child stopped abruptly and turned slowly, meeting her eyes. The girl’s face felt familiar, and a memory clawed at the edges of her mind, but it faded the moment she tried to grasp it. The girl giggled and hopped behind a rock. She followed, but the child had vanished. Before she could comprehend what happened, a deep voice shattered the silence.

“Over there!”

Footsteps echoed through the night as she sprinted across the open ground at unnatural speed. Branches tore at her hands and legs as she burst into the forest, and the soldiers followed moments later. The chase had begun.

Intel

Beep! Beep! BEEP!

Daren snapped back to reality; the sound of the warmer blared in his ears. He tapped on the screen, and it hummed as the lid slid open. The aroma of baked Moss Bread did little to ease his troubling thoughts. Sighing, Daren grabbed his food and stepped into the crowded hallway. Voices and footsteps echoed around him, and he quickened his pace. He slipped into his office and breathed a sigh of relief as the door sealed shut.

“You’re in desperate need of rest,” a tiny robotic voice observed. “Want me to reserve a wellness pod for you?”

“I’m fine,” Daren replied with a shake of his head, pushing off the door towards his seat. His sentient drone hovered near him, its retractable arms shining a dull silver in the dim room. As a Shaper, he was one of Anura’s brightest minds, and the JSOF always had a reason to keep him busy, especially now that trouble brewed in the city.

Reports detailing the spread of BZ-RK, a serum created by heretics, across Svarga floated before him. In just three months, this serum had killed over fifty Anurans and spread across the five cities.

“Still reading reports on the serum?” D2 asked.

“Yeah, though I'd rather be tracking the Ghost. She's more dangerous than any serum those filthy heretics can create.”

Daren moved his hands through the holograms, dismissing one report and enlarging the next.

“There’s been no update from the team that encountered her in the sewers, so I believe they're dead,” D2 said, projecting the last known report on the Ghost. Daren sighed, finally taking a bite of the bread. The crisp crust cracked and gave way to the soft, tender inside. He closed his eyes as warm sweetness flooded his mouth and prayed for a thousand blessings on the frog who discovered this delicacy.

The chime of an incoming message pulled Daren's attention away from his food. It had a “high priority” tag, and he opened it with little enthusiasm. The sender was unknown, but the message pattern was familiar.

“Scan all spam messages within the last few days for cipher keys," Daren said, turning to D2.

“Right away, sire,” D2 joked, imitating a bow. Daren rolled his eyes and turned back to his reports. “Done. The cipher key was embedded in a spam message,” D2 said, projecting both message and key.

“Run both of them through our codex,” Daren replied absentmindedly.

“Already done that. It's the Turim Alba contact; they want to meet near the Sprite Express at 0900,” D2 said, hovering around his projection.

“It would seem your message got through. But it could still be a trap.”

Daren didn't respond. He fully understood the risk, but what was at stake was a lot more important. For weeks now, he had been piecing together information about a possible doomsday weapon, and he believed Turim Alba was the target. The intel had come from a Shadow who was now dead, and he had sent out an encrypted message to the Turim Defence Core, hoping someone would respond.

“Clear my schedule; we’re leaving now.” He threw the rest of his food in the trash and grabbed his coat. “The sooner I deliver this intel, the sooner I get to prepare for dinner with my lovely sister,” Daren said, waving a hand to turn off his hologram display.

“Should I let Ren know where you’re going?” D2 asked, following.

“No. Let’s keep our circle small for now. We’ll tell the team everything later.”

With that, Daren walked out once again into the busy hallway. It was time to go incognito.

The Operator

The Svarga JSOF headquarters was massive; huge walls surrounded the vast compound like a fortress, and sentinel drones patrolled the perimeter. Daren passed several on-duty staff as he headed towards his grey HOP-R hover car. The car powered on with a soft hum as he stepped in and the antigravity engaged. A sensor detected the car, and the shield surrounding the building’s exit dropped. Daren drove out onto the busy Svarga highway, joining hover cars and Class 19 dropships that streaked across the city. The magnificent capital city stretched out around him with tall buildings of complex designs rising across the region.

“Yala says she’ll make it for dinner. But you shouldn't dare cook anything,” D2 said.

“Come on, I’m not that bad,” Daren replied, smiling. “Am I?”

“You’re a horrible cook,” D2 responded incredulously. “She puked her guts out for days last time. Why in Anura’s blessed name would she want to go through that again?”

“Okay, okay, I won’t cook,” he replied, chuckling as he tapped on a map pop-up, causing the car to switch to a faster route. Minutes later, the car slowed to a near halt before turning away from the highway into the quieter outer district.

Anurans filled the busy street as they went about their daily lives. Workers trudged to the factories on heavy feet, and children played in the street. A few scribes walked among them, helping the disabled and destitute in any way they could. Others knelt before murals of Anura and prayed to her for blessings.

Daren took it all in as he approached Sprite Express, watching as people turned to stare at his car with envy or desire. The outer district was the "working-class" district of Svarga. With fewer patrols and a robust slum network, it was the ideal location for secret deals and meetings.

The Sprite Express building finally came into view. It was a tall structure with a green hue belonging to a rich mogul who handled most of Svarga’s shipping and travel. But it barely registered; he was focused on the informant he was about to meet. Spam messages like the one he received were very common, which was probably why the informant used that as the mule for the cipher key.

No one would suspect it.

The car pulled to a stop in the parking area, and he alighted wearing a dark cloak. He raised his wrist and the bold digits showed 0845. He was fifteen minutes early. After a quick look around, he spotted a small tree a short distance from his hover car and walked towards it to wait. It was now well towards the end of the day, and the sky was beginning to darken. More people were moving about as darkness crept across the alleys.

Daren wasn't bothered. His JSOF uniform was enough to make anyone think twice about messing with him, and he was skilled enough to make anyone stupid enough to try regret it for the rest of their lives.

“You’re incredibly unobservant for someone in this line of work,” a soft voice said from above him. Daren froze, stunned as he noticed someone perched on a branch above him out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you the one?” he replied calmly, turning to get a better look.

“Yes, you’re early,” she replied, dropping down beside him.

“I’ve never been one to show up late to anything; besides, I needed to be sure that I wasn’t walking into a trap.”

“If this were a trap, you would already be dead,” she replied, stepping out of the tree’s shadow. She wore a black coat that reached her ankles, and its collar stretched to cover most of her neck. Daren had seen many intelligence operators during his time in the JSOF, but he had yet to meet one with a frame this small.

“I doubt it, friend,” Daren said, smirking. “My drone has been circling my position the entire time, but I'll admit that you got the drop on me.”

“You’re a Shaper?” she asked, sounding surprised. “Shapers don’t usually venture into the field aspect of espionage.”

“We don’t, but this matter is too sensitive to share with anyone else,” Daren responded, clenching his fist.

“Do you have it then? Conclusive evidence of the threat to Turim Alba?” she asked, stepping forward.

“I do,” Daren replied, pulling out a small rectangular data pack from his pocket.

“Intercepted messages, classified reports, and schematics—pieces of it anyway.” He held the device between his fingers. "It's all in there. I got the intel from a Shadow informant. He was found dead 4 days ago.” Daren grimaced as he remembered the crime scene. "I followed the thread and pieced together the rest.”

She held out her hand, and he dropped the pack into her open palm. “Any idea what kind of weapon it is?” she asked, shoving the pack into her coat. As she moved, the dark blue cybernetic armour beneath her coat became visible, and her plasma daggers flashed into view for a split second.

“No. But one report hinted at a 150 km blast zone. Not enough to destroy an entire city, but enough to cause huge casualties,” Daren replied grimly.

Her eyes widened as the full weight of the information sank in. “Anura, preserve us,” she muttered, resting her hand against the tree.

“Now you see why I had to get this to you as soon as possible,” Daren said.

“Any idea when the attack will happen?” she asked, regaining her composure.

Daren shook his head. “No. But it could happen very soon.” He flipped his wrist to check the time.

“This is worse than I thought.”

Daren frowned. “What do you mean?”

For a moment, she said nothing. Her eyes drifted towards the darkening sky. “I think Anura tried to warn me about this,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t understand.”

Daren watched as sorrow and regret flickered across her face.

“My daughter had a dream 2 days before I got your message. It was about Turim’s destruction.”

"A premonition,” Daren said, his eyes widening. “You better hurry then; your city council needs to be warned.”

She nodded. “This might be the last time we see each other. For what it's worth, my name is Zara.”

Daren gave a nod. “Good luck, Zara; you’ll need it.” Zara waved without turning, then disappeared into the shadows of a nearby alley.

“You think she'll succeed?” D2 asked, flying down to hover beside Daren.

“I hope so, for all our sakes,” Daren replied as he walked towards his car. It was time to go home.

Driving back home took 2 hours. Daren stopped by a small stall to grab a few drinks and other things his sister loved. She was a picky eater but enjoyed walber fruit and toasted algae wraps, so he grabbed half a dozen of each. His home was in the upscale Mercantile District, close enough to the JSOF headquarters to make his daily journey easy but far enough to escape the city’s noise.

“Don't drop my drink. If even one of them breaks, I’ll sell you for scraps,” Daren said jokingly as he reached the front door.

“Yala will definitely not let that happen,” D2 replied with a chuckle.

“I'm sure she'll side with me; after all, I'm her...” He stopped abruptly, noticing the open door.

Room doors in the building are paired to the owner's biometrics and cannot be opened without their permission. Daren stepped in cautiously, plasma pistol in hand, as he checked every room.

“D2, contact Ren with an SOS alert and tell Yala to stay away,” he called out, scanning another room for intruders.

D2 did not respond.

“D2?” Daren called out again, turning in confusion. A loud crack sounded as something smashed into his head. He grunted in pain and was thrown to the side. A shadow emerged from the darkness with a metal Hanbo in her right hand, and D2 dangled from her left hand, impaled by a thin blade. She walked with unnatural grace and silence, signature dual blades still strapped to her back. He watched helplessly as a large cube fell, releasing a faint orange barrier that covered the room.

“They call me Ghost,” she said, crouching. “You’ve heard of me, right?”

Daren said nothing. His head throbbed, and blood dripped into his eye, blurring his vision.

“Your attempts to stop what's coming to Turim are commendable.” She paused. “But it was in vain. We know where Zara is, and a few Trident missiles should be greeting her right about now.”

Daren clenched his fist in rage and turned angry eyes towards her. “You won't win. The cities will never bow to heretics,” he said, coughing.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she replied, throwing D2 aside. “I'm just here to enjoy myself since I couldn't get to play with Zara.”

Ghost stabbed him with a syringe, and his pain intensified. He tried to move but failed, realizing that he was now paralyzed.

“It's a custom nerve toxin I concocted,” Ghost said, twirling the syringe between 2 fingers. "And thanks to this barrier, no one will hear your screams.” Her lips curled into a chilling smile as she spoke.

Daren paled as the realization hit him. Images of the Ghost’s victims flashed through his mind, each one more gruesome than the next. And now, it was his turn. Ghost pulled a knife from her boot and pressed it against his knees.

“Let the fun begin.” She drove the knife into his thigh. The nerve toxin kept him immobilized, yet didn't dull the pain or prevent him from screaming in terror.

Outside, Anurans went about their daily lives, unaware of the bloody mess in progress mere steps away.

Doomsday

“Zara!! Come over here, the food's getting cold,” a shrill voice called across the open field. It was a sunny day, and the weather was cool. The gentle breeze swished through Zara’s white gown, caressing her skin. The lilies around her swayed softly, and she played among them.

She enjoyed being outdoors. She had always believed that one could connect better with Anura, praised may she be, when surrounded by nature. Her love for the grassy fields made her odd among her peers, but she didn't mind.

“You’re a weirdo.” Zara turned towards the voice. A young frogling in dark clothes stood a few feet away holding a large jug of water. She looked at him for a moment before turning back to her flowers.

“I said, you’re a W-E-I-R-D-O,” he drawled, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Leave me alone,” Zara replied, dusting dirt from her knees. She turned to leave, but he was directly beside her. His hand clamped around her arm like a vice.

“What do you want?” she asked, trying to pull free.

Suddenly, the boy pushed her and screamed: “WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO GET DOWN AND GIVE ME 50!!”

Zara stared at him in confusion. “What???”

“GIVE ME FIFTY,” he bellowed and emptied the jug on her head.

The world shifted, and rain hammered the ground. Engines screamed as dropships flew overhead, and Zara found herself on her knees staring into a muddy puddle, her reflection staring back at her.

She wasn't a child anymore.

“DID YOU LOSE SOMETHING DOWN THERE, RECRUIT?” a deep voice bellowed. Zara looked up to see a massive frog glaring at her with a plasma cannon strapped to his back.

“I SAID GIVE ME 50 PUSHUPS, OR YOU'LL BE SCRUBBING THE ENTIRE MESS HALL WITH A TOOTHBRUSH FOR 2 WEEKS!”

Zara dropped immediately. The movement was natural to her, as if she'd repeated it a thousand times before. When she finished, she rose and clasped her hands behind her back, but the instructor was gone.

“You shouldn’t be here," another voice said.

Zara turned to face a young Anuran in a hood standing beside her. “Why?” she asked, puzzled.

“You need to wake up,” he replied, his form turning to mist.

Zara frowned. “Wake up?”

“Yes ... wake up,” his voice echoed.

"WAKE UP, ZARA!”

The world shifted again, and she was running through a dense forest, weaving between trees as branches whipped across her face. Her clothes were torn and scorched in several places, and a sleek plasma rifle was strapped to her back. A loud bang sounded, and a tree exploded into splinters. She was being chased.

She could remember more now. Her life in the fields outside Turim Alba, her training in the Turim Defence Core, her husband and 2 children, her daughter's premonition, and meeting Daren in Svarga.

Everything washed over her in a massive wave as she ducked into a thick patch of bush and hid. Her breathing came hard. Her head still hurt, but her memories were returning piece by piece.

A branch snapped nearby. “There you are, Turim scu…” The words never finished as Zara pounced, shoving her dagger into his head repeatedly. His scream echoed into the dark forest, and the others rushed in guns blazing, but she was gone. Zara hopped from tree to tree, moving with amazing dexterity and speed. She landed on a branch, fingers gripping the damp bark hard as she hauled herself onto it. Unslinging her rifle, she aimed at the 2 soldiers running towards her.

Her breathing slowed as she tracked the running duo with her reticle and squeezed the trigger. A bang rang out. The plasma round tore through both soldiers, killing them instantly. The remaining soldiers were nervous. Every rustle in the bushes made them flinch, and they were moving back to back. It didn't matter. She dropped into their midst, ripped a blade from one of the soldiers, and buried it in his thigh. He cried out, and the other 2 opened fire.

Big Mistake.

Zara pulled the bleeding Fury into their line of fire. “Wait!" he yelled, but it was too late. Plasma rounds ripped through him, and he died choking on his own blood. The other 2 froze for a moment from shock, and that was all she needed. The blood-soaked blade found the eye of one of the soldiers, and 4 plasma rounds tore through the other, killing him instantly.

Silence settled over the forest.

Zara’s hands trembled from the adrenaline, but her mind was finally clear. She immediately gathered supplies from the fallen soldiers before sprinting back to the dropship at the wreckage. The HOP-R Class 19 dropship sat where they'd left it. Zara swiped an access card she'd taken from one of the soldiers on the panel and climbed in as the hatch hissed open. Memories she didn't know she still had surfaced one after the other.

Her hands moved on their own, flipping switches, and the systems came alive. The soft hum of the engine filled the cockpit as the aircraft lifted a few feet off the ground. Zara engaged the throttle, and it shot into the night sky. Gravity assist kicked in almost instantly, taking the strain off her body as the forest disappeared beneath her. Minutes later, the magnificent Spires of Turim Alba came into view. They stood tall like great pillars and glowed beneath the faint blue shimmer of the city’s protective barrier.

She was going to make it home.

Suddenly, 2 interceptors pulled up alongside her aircraft, matching her speed. These were smaller one-man jets built for speed and precision strikes.

“This is TDC special forces. State your business, pilot, or be shot down," a voice said over the open channel.

"This is Lieutenant Zara," she replied without hesitation. “I have critical intelligence for the Turim council.”

"Land your aircraft, pilot. Command will verify your identity on the ground.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, tightening her grip on the controls. "There's an attack coming. Just let me get it to the council first, then you can detain me.”

“Negative. Land the aircraft immediately!” he responded.

The wingman pulled back to get into firing position. Zara cursed under her breath as she realized that talking was futile. "I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

Zara slammed the speed brakes. The sudden loss of speed sent both interceptors shooting ahead of her, and she rolled hard to the left.

G-forces crashed into her before the gyro chair eased the strain. She came up directly behind the lead pilot as she exited the roll and opened fire. Plasma rounds bounced off his shield, and the pilot rolled away, forcing her to break pursuit. Warning alarms screamed through the cockpit as "Missile lock” flashed in red on the holo display. Zara banked hard and launched flares before accelerating as the missile exploded behind her.

Debris clipped her wings, and she cursed as she engaged the dropship’s shields. Seconds later, the wingman swooped in and opened fire, forcing Zara to enter a series of evasive maneuvers. Sweat coated her forehead as plasma rounds battered her weakening shield. She needed to end this quickly before it gave out.

An opportunity came as the lead pilot drifted too wide during a turn. Zara opened fire, shattering his shield and clipping his wings. The interceptor exploded in a shower of sparks, and he entered an uncontrolled spiral. Moments later, the canopy blasted free as he ejected safely. Another warning alarm sounded as the last pilot locked onto her and fired. Zara dumped more flares, and the dropship shuddered violently as the missile exploded. Her shield collapsed, leaving her exposed.

“Stand down, soldier. We're on the same side,” Zara said over the open channel. The pilot responded with more plasma rounds, and she veered side to side, weaving through the incoming fire.

A risky idea formed in her head. It was dangerous, but it was the only option left.

Zara engaged the afterburner, and the engine screamed as she accelerated upward. The interceptor took the bait and followed. Nausea washed over her as her vision blurred at the edges. Altitude warnings flashed in the cockpit, and she smiled as the interceptor didn't back down.

It was exactly what she wanted. She cut the throttle and pulled back hard, slowing her speed as her nose tipped upward. The interceptor flew past, unable to adjust to her change in direction. She grunted as g-forces slammed into her, engaging her missiles as she leveled out and locked on. He banked hard to escape, but it was too late. 2 missiles exploded against his shield, collapsing it, and debris tore through his engine. The canopy burst open as the pilot ejected, and his jet spun into the darkness.

Zara breathed a sigh of relief and turned the dropship back towards Turim Alba. She accelerated as the city came into view. The dread that had followed her since Svarga began to fade, replaced at last by hope.

She could still save her city.

A bright light caught her attention, and something emerged from the clouds, descending toward Turim Alba with unnatural speed. Zara watched, stunned, as it struck the city's barrier.

A blinding flash followed, consuming the night sky, and an explosion hit a heartbeat later. Shockwaves slammed into her dropship, throwing it violently through the air. Zara grunted as she struggled with the controls before finally bringing the aircraft to a hover, facing Turim.

From her vantage, Zara watched helplessly as Spires crumbled and an inferno swept across the city's commercial district. One of the liveliest districts in Turim Alba now lay in fiery ruin. Her breath caught as she remembered her family and friends. Were they safe? From this distance, she couldn't tell.

All she could do was watch.

Just as despair threatened to swallow her, another ball of light descended from the sky. Her heart stopped as the realization sank in.

There was a second one.