Gabriel stirred as his senses returned.

He opened his eyes. The dome was still intact, the fire reduced to dim coals. Pale light filtered from the vines above, their glow soft and twitching.

Leonardo’s arm stayed around him, unmoving. One leg was hooked loosely over his, holding him close in sleep. Gabriel could feel the steady thrum of energy under his skin, too fast, too hot.

He’d only used enough power to keep the fire alive. Why would he need guiding already?

Gabriel shifted carefully, just enough to prop himself on one elbow and face Leonardo. He hesitated, jaw tight, then slowly reached out, pressing the back of his fingers to Leonardo’s cheek.

Too warm. Not dangerous, but wrong.

He swallowed hard and moved his hand to Leonardo’s wrist, skin brushing skin.

The moment they touched, Gabriel’s breath caught again.

It wasn’t burn phase. The energy wasn’t spiraling out or dragging him into overload, but it was unstable, looping in strange patterns, coiling without release.

The fear clung low in his chest, bitter in his throat, but it didn’t stop him. He reached for his pouch and pulled out the energy scanner, fingers steady now.

The device powered on with a low hum, its cracked screen flickering faintly in the dark. He pressed it gently to Leonardo’s chest.

The readings jumped in irregular pattern. Sharp peaks that didn’t match internal output. Like something external was interfering.

A feedback loop.

“His energy’s reacting to the zone,” Gabriel murmured.

Leonardo shifted slightly, a soft groan catching in his throat. His brow furrowed deeper. Sweat beaded along his temple.

The vines were no longer neutral. It was amplifying Leonardo’s energy, echoing it back through him.

That’s why he was overheating. Not from power use, but from the zone itself.

Gabriel leaned in, voice low. “Leonardo. Wake up.”

The vines overhead twitched.

“Come on.”

Leonardo stirred, lids fluttering open. For a moment, Gabriel saw it, the red-gold shimmer pulsing faintly at the edge of his irises.

“You don’t have to,” Leonardo murmured, voice rough. “Not here. Not now.”

Gabriel didn’t let go of his wrist. “I’m not going to guide you,” he said, voice calm. “You don’t need it. But we have to move.”

Leonardo blinked slowly, like the words were hard to hold.

Before he could respond, the vines flashed.

A surge of heat flooded the dome.

The ground shifted, not a quake, but a pulse. A wave of dimensional tension moving beneath them.

A sharp crack split the air.

Gabriel looked up just as a fracture opened across the ceiling. Dust rained down. The vines recoiled, flaring in erratic bursts of light.

Leonardo swayed and Gabriel caught him.

“We can’t stay here,” he said sharply, reaching for his bag. He slung it over one shoulder, and helped Leonardo up. The Esper leaned heavily on him, legs unsteady.

A shadowed break in the wall, maybe an exit. They had to move.

The corridor beyond the crevice narrowed fast, pressing inward like the zone was reluctant to let them through. Gabriel led the way, steadying Leonardo as he moved with effort. Each step from the dome eased the discomfort.

The walls here were different. Pale mineral veins glinted under the dim light, pulsing with a muted violet hue. The vines had thinned out, trailing in limp strands that clung to the ceiling but didn’t move.

Gabriel checked the scanner. The signal trembled, quieter now, like a retreating tide.

Leonardo’s breath caught. Gabriel tightened his grip. “Just hold on,” he said under his breath.

He didn’t answer, but his fingers twitched slightly where they rested against Gabriel’s side. Whether from pain or effort, he couldn’t tell.

They turned a final bend, and the passage opened into a hollow space. The ceiling arched unevenly, formed from collapsed stone and what looked like remnants of a structural dome. An old support beam had fallen across the top and lodged itself diagonally, creating a sort of shelter over the bowl-like chamber below. Fractured stone curved along the walls like ribs. The floor sloped inward but looked solid.

“This will do,” Gabriel said after checking the scanner. No vines. No heat blooms.

He helped Leonardo down slowly, lowering him against the curved wall where the rock was driest. Leonardo let out a sharp breath as he sank to the floor. His head tipped back. Sweat beaded at his temples. His lips parted for air.

Gabriel crouched beside him, pressing the scanner to his chest again. The readings flickered but far less aggressive than before.

“You’re stabilizing,” he said, quietly but clearly.

Leonardo gave a faint huff of breath that almost passed for a laugh. “You get bossy when you’re worried, huh?”

The corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitched. “Only with people who scare me.”

Leonardo’s eyelids lifted slightly, hazel eyes hazy but focused. “Didn’t mean to.”

Gabriel glanced away. “I know.”

He stared at the scanner, then tucked it away. His hand lingered, trembling just slightly before he stilled it against his thigh.

“This place… it’s better. Less reactive.” He hesitated. “But I don’t understand why it hit you like that. You didn’t use much power. Just enough to maintain the fire.”

Leonardo swallowed. “Felt like it turned on me.”

Gabriel reached for his wrist again, fingertips brushing the skin. “It did. The dome’s resonance was feeding off your energy, looping it back into you. Like a mirror. Or an amplifier.”

He trailed off. Leonardo’s skin was still too warm, but not dangerously. His energy shimmered, more contained now.

“If we’d stayed…” Gabriel shook his head. “You might have flared without even realizing it.”

Leonardo didn’t answer right away. His hand shifted, curling around Gabriel’s.

“You pulled me out of it.”

He looked down at their hands, then up at Leonardo’s face. He had always feared Espers, feared the unpredictable, inhuman surges of power that made them dangerous when unbalanced. But right now, there was nothing threatening in Leonardo. Just heat, fatigue, and something raw beneath the surface.

It should have frightened him. But it didn’t.

“This time,” Gabriel said quietly, “don’t fight me if it happens again.”

Leonardo’s gaze didn’t waver. “I won’t.”

Their hands remained like that for a long moment. The quiet here was different. Not empty, just calm. The walls didn’t breathe. The zone didn’t press in.

He didn’t relax, but his shoulders eased.

For now, they were safe.

Gabriel didn’t let go.

Not immediately. Not until Leonardo’s breathing evened out and the red-gold flicker behind his eyes dulled to a faint shimmer. Even then, he only shifted slightly, just enough to slide his pack off and kneel beside him properly.

The scanner dimmed, no spikes, no loops. Still, Gabriel kept it close.

Just in case.

Leonardo had slumped against the wall, head tipped back, one arm draped across his stomach. He didn’t speak. Just watched Gabriel in silence, eyes dark but steady.

The quiet wasn’t comforting.

It didn’t.

He reached for his canteen and unscrewed the cap. “You need water,” he said, offering it without meeting Leonardo’s eyes.

Leonardo accepted it with a slow nod, hand brushing Gabriel’s as he took it. He drank in short gulps, then exhaled. “Thanks.”

Gabriel sat back on his heels, scanning the cavern again. The faint violet glow in the mineral veins had settled into something almost peaceful.

He spoke softly. “The resonance is thinner here. Less reactive. That’s good.”

Leonardo didn’t respond right away. His breathing was slow but not quite steady. Muscles drawn tight beneath sweat-slicked skin.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Leonardo said finally, his voice rough.

Gabriel looked over at him. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to fix everything alone.”

Gabriel rubbed his hands together, nerves unsettled. “I’m not. But if your energy is being affected by the zone... if I miss something...”

“You didn’t.”

Gabriel’s breath hitched slightly. That voice, solid, even while Leonardo looked half-faded against the rock, held no mockery. Just conviction.

“You noticed it before it turned dangerous,” Leonardo said. “That’s what matters.”

Gabriel didn’t know how to respond. So he simply nodded and shifted closer. “Let me check again.”

He reached out gently, fingers pressing to the side of Leonardo’s neck, right over his pulse point.

Still fast. Still hot. But not flaring.

Leonardo didn’t move. His eyes stayed on Gabriel’s face, quietly focused.

Gabriel swallowed. “It’s not flaring. But the distortion’s still there. Like your energy’s trying to align and keeps failing.”

Leonardo tipped his head slightly. “Can you fix that?”

Gabriel hesitated.

He wasn’t sure if it would work. But his hands moved anyway.

“I can try something light,” he said. “Not a full guiding. Just enough to redirect the interference. Think of it like... adjusting the current.”

Leonardo didn’t speak. But he turned his hand, palm up. Waiting.

Gabriel looked at it for a second longer than he meant to.

Then he reached out. Their fingers met. Slotted together.

The connection wasn’t sharp like last time. It didn’t yank or rush.

He closed his eyes.

Took a breath.

And began to guide.

Not deep. Not into Leonardo’s core. Just to the edge, where the static danced and curled and pulled his energy out of sync. Gabriel steadied it, tracing the distortion and nudging it gently into alignment. Like adjusting threads under tension. A quiet tune-up, not a rescue.

Leonardo’s jaw slackened. His shoulders eased.

Gabriel exhaled slowly. The tension in his own chest didn’t lift entirely, but the tightness around his heart softened.

“You’re stabilizing,” he whispered.

Leonardo’s hand tightened faintly around his. “So are you.”

Gabriel’s eyes opened.

The guiding glow faded.

But he didn’t let go.

Not yet.

Leonardo’s breathing quieted, but Gabriel stayed tense. He crouched beside him, watching. One wrong shift, one flicker of red behind his eyes, and Gabriel would step in again, whether he was ready or not.

But no flare came. Only warmth. Only tension.

Gabriel kept his hand where it was, wrapped lightly around Leonardo’s. His skin still radiated heat, but it wasn’t erratic anymore, just trapped.

He poured water into his palm and wiped Leonardo’s brow, movements smooth despite the clinging sweat.

Leonardo didn’t recoil.

He didn’t even blink.

His eyes tracked every motion, red-gold shimmer faint at the corners. Not threatening, just there. Like embers waiting for wind.

Gabriel finished the gesture and let his hand rest on Leonardo’s shoulder for a moment, grounding them both.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Leonardo said after a beat. His voice hoarse, but steady. “I wasn’t going to rampage.”

“I know,” Gabriel replied, voice soft. “I was only checking.”

Leonardo arched a brow faintly. “You scanned me?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I checked by touch.”

Something flickered behind Leonardo’s eyes. Surprise, maybe. Maybe something more.

Gabriel exhaled. “You weren’t spiraling. The zone was holding on, not letting go.”

Leonardo’s lips parted, but for once, he didn’t tease. He didn’t try to brush it off with a smirk or a cocky line. He just looked at Gabriel.

“Then why step in?” he asked. “Why risk it?”

Gabriel hesitated. His fingers twitched against his leg, as if some part of him still expected backlash for being too close to an Esper for too long.

“Because I wanted to help.” he said.

A silence settled between them, but it wasn’t empty.

Leonardo sat up a little straighter, wincing as he adjusted his weight. He looked pale beneath the flush.

But his hand moved.

Slowly. Deliberately.

And then it brushed close to Gabriel’s wrist, hovering first, then settling with a careful pressure. Not claiming. Not forcing.

“Let me say this,” Leonardo said, voice low. “This time... don’t push me away.”

Gabriel looked up, startled.

His expression was steady. Honest. “I know you’re scared. I’ll back off if you want, but don’t run. Not yet.”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to say it.

But he felt it, settling in his chest like warmth after frost.

He still felt afraid, but this time, it wasn’t in control.

Not now.

He didn’t answer with words.

He just reached forward, slowly, intentionally, and curled his fingers back into Leonardo’s.

Their palms touched.

And for a long moment, neither of them moved.

The quiet didn’t last.

A low groan echoed from somewhere deep in the stone walls around them. Not the structure itself, something behind it. Like the zone was shifting again. Restless.

Gabriel tensed.

Leonardo turned his head toward the sound but didn’t try to rise yet. “Whatever that is,” he muttered, voice still a little rough, “I don’t like it.”

Gabriel agreed. The dimensional pressure had returned. Faint but rising. Like a tide inching closer to shore.

“We need to keep moving,” he said.

Leonardo nodded, already bracing his hand against the wall to push up. Gabriel moved beside him, slipping one shoulder under Leonardo’s arm without needing to ask. The contact was familiar now. Comfortable, even if the heat still radiated from Leonardo’s skin.

He was stabilizing, but he wasn’t stable.

As they stepped out of the hollowed shelter, the air outside hit them colder than before. Gabriel tightened the coat around himself. Leonardo didn’t flinch. Just adjusted his stance and let Gabriel guide him forward through the uneven terrain.

The vines glowed dimmer here. Less reactive.

Gabriel glanced up. “We’re further from the dome’s influence.”

“Good,” Leonardo said, his eyes scanning the narrow path ahead. “Let’s keep it that way.”

They moved in silence for a while, stepping carefully between the ridged ground and fractured stones. Every few feet, Gabriel felt the zone’s pulse again. Not strong, but wrong. Unstable.

A glimmer in the dark ahead caught his eye.

Not light. Not movement.

A shimmer. Like a barely visible distortion in the air.

He held up a hand and slowed. Leonardo stopped with him, steady now despite the fatigue.

Gabriel stepped forward cautiously, narrowing his eyes at the shimmer. Then he reached for a small sensor stick from his belt pouch and tossed it gently toward the distortion.

It didn’t touch anything.

It vanished.

Like it had been swallowed whole.

Leonardo let out a slow breath. “Portal echo?”

“Or worse,” Gabriel said. “Could be a collapsed field. Might be nothing, or it might open again.”

He stepped back and turned toward the left path instead. The shimmer didn’t follow. The pressure didn’t increase.

It was a warning. Not an attack.

“Let’s find higher ground,” Leonardo said. “If this zone shifts again, I want to see it coming.”

Gabriel nodded. He didn’t say it, but the same thought was circling in his mind.

The zone was pushing them, terrain, timing, something unseen.

Whatever destabilized the dome was still moving with them.

It was moving with them.

By the time they reached a plateau that overlooked the valley below, the sky had shifted. Still a murky grey, but tinged with soft green pulses at the horizon, signs of atmospheric stress.

Leonardo sat down, stretching his legs. Gabriel joined him, quiet settling between them.

Neither spoke.

But both of them knew it, this was only the beginning.

Something was coming, and the zone already knew it.