The light of the Rift was blinding—silver, violet, and gold, churning like a sea of stars torn from their constellations.

Riven raised an arm to shield his eyes, but it was too late. The vision burned into his retinas, etched like a memory. He staggered backward, disoriented, as reality convulsed around him.

Then—she fell.

Auren crashed into his world with the grace of a warrior and the fury of a star. Her boots landed on fractured pavement, cracking the stone. Her sword was already drawn, humming with energy that didn't belong in this world.

Their eyes locked.

For a heartbeat, the noise of the broken city fell away. Only the Rift’s glow remained between them.

“You—” he started.

Auren took a defensive stance, eyes darting. “This isn’t my realm. Where am I?”

Riven raised both hands slowly. “Easy. You don’t want to draw attention. Not here.”

A rumble echoed from the sky—distant, but growing. Like a storm with a mind of its own.

Auren frowned. “The Rift is unstable. I didn’t open it.”

“Neither did I,” he said.

Another heartbeat passed. Then, from the shadows of a collapsed tower, they emerged—creatures made of static and smoke, with faces that flickered between memory and nightmare.

The Null.

They weren’t supposed to appear this soon.

Riven swore under his breath and reached for his photon rifle. “Whatever you are, I hope you can fight.”

“I was born to,” Auren replied, and then she was moving—faster than his eyes could track, blade slicing through one Null with the precision of a dancer trained by war.

Riven followed, firing into the darkness, each bolt lighting up the street with streaks of blue fire.

The Null hissed as they fell, unraveling like threads caught in wind.

They fought side by side, a symphony of motion and light. Auren’s blade moved like a whisper, Riven’s shots like thunder.

But there were too many.

“We can’t hold them here!” Riven shouted.

“Then lead the way!”

They ran—ducking into alleyways, past broken machines and burning neon. Every step, the Rift pulsed behind them like a heartbeat they couldn’t escape.

---

They reached the safehouse just before dawn.

Riven bolted the steel door behind them, breathing hard. Auren collapsed onto a crate, sword resting beside her.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Auren broke the silence. “You’ve seen me before, haven’t you?”

He nodded. “Three times. Always near the Rift.”

“I’ve dreamed of you,” she said quietly, not looking at him. “But not like this.”

Riven studied her face. Not just beautiful—familiar. In a way that defied logic.

“I think,” he said slowly, “we knew each other. Once. In one of the timelines the Rift erased.”

Auren met his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then why did it bring us back together?”

Before he could answer, the ground trembled.

The Rift wasn’t done.

Not even close.

And in its wake… the past was returning.