My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 267: How to start

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Chapter 267: How to start

Her hand slipped into his hair—wet, tangled, matted from sweat—and pulled his face to her shoulder.

"Slow down," she muttered.

The words didn’t carry judgment. Just direction. A line to hold onto.

Cubes moved behind her, sensors active. Its core processor dialed down the ambient heat in the containment bay by two degrees. Airflow shifted, pressure stabilizers adjusted automatically, and the cold returned across the lab in a quiet breath.

She didn’t look up. Her arms stayed wrapped tight around him.

Elias wasn’t resisting. He wasn’t collapsing either. He was just there—heavy, shaking, breath catching between her ribs. His hands hovered near her biceps, fingers barely resting against the sleeves of her uniform. He didn’t pull away.

"How are you even alive?"

The question slipped out quieter than she expected. Still sharp. Still weighted.

She didn’t let go.

"You killed yourself," she said. "For Kikaru. Said there was nothing left. No one to fight for."

Her voice faltered—not in pitch, but in speed. She had to force herself to finish.

"So what was that, Elias? What the hell was that?"

He flinched at the sound of his name.

Not because she said it.

Because she said it like that.

His hands shook more now. The tremors were small, but they hadn’t stopped since she caught him. His breathing hadn’t evened out either.

"I’m sorry," he whispered.

The apology barely reached her ears. The air between them was too cold. Too loud.

"I just..."

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Elara raised her hand.

She touched his face gently. Her fingers pressed across his lips. Not to hurt. Not to quiet something dangerous.

Just to hold.

His breathing slowed—not much. Enough.

She left her hand there.

Neither of them moved.

Her voice came next, low but steady. No mask. No authority. Just weight.

"No more words."

Her throat tightened as she said it. She didn’t try to cover the sound.

"You can ask forgiveness later."

Elara shifted her stance, planted one foot back, and hooked Elias’s arm over her shoulder. His weight sagged unevenly, muscle memory failing him in short, twitching bursts. Her legs braced beneath the strain. She didn’t flinch.

Frost traced along her boots as Cubes circled beside them, dispersing thermal static from the exposed containment dust. The air sharpened with filtered ozone. A fine mist rose as the temperature dipped slightly, clearing the particulate cloud stirred by the collapse.

Behind the containment barrier, Torv’s rifle remained raised.

He hadn’t moved.

Sweat gathered along the edge of his visor, streaked down his brow, and caught in the crease of his glove. His grip trembled—not enough to misfire, but enough to notice.

Mira stepped beside him, hand on his arm.

"Hold," she said under her breath.

Her eyes never left Elias.

A low chirp emitted from the command line, and Mira tapped twice on her wrist console. A single flash blinked overhead—an internal signal routed through their security feed.

Lykos caught it and leaned forward.

"She’s risking too much," he muttered, voice clipped.

He adjusted the comm tab on his collar and shifted his stance, watching the layered plastic curtain sway faintly as the building’s air control cycled another pulse through the vents.

Then another figure moved in—this time fast, precise, not armed.

The medic wore dark grey fatigues and a portable diagnostic rig mounted to her wrist. The tablet interface blinked rapidly, data flowing in steady lines as it synced with the local node.

She stepped past the outer buffer and slowed only once inside.

"Internal readings are spiking," she said, eyes locked to the tablet. "No radiation. No abnormal leak. But his vitals are unstable—neural feedback’s irregular. He needs to be moved now."

Her boots crunched over fractured containment glass. Her attention didn’t waver.

Elara’s eyes didn’t shift.

Her grip on Elias didn’t loosen.

"Clear a path to the infirmary," she said.

The tone cut through the air with no ambiguity. Her voice didn’t rise, but the weight behind it landed harder than any shout could have. The medic nodded once and moved to relay it.

Elias leaned into her without meaning to.

His legs were still finding the rhythm of walking again. His shoulder pressed against her collar, the contact uneven and warm. Her breath brushed the side of his neck—steady, rhythmic, focused.

She hadn’t let go.

Her hand stayed in his hair.

Her fingers shook.

Elias flinched once as the shard in his shoulder fired another burst of pain, sharp and cold. The sensation trailed along his spine, then leveled out. The hum from the surrounding equipment answered it, quiet but present. A mechanical chorus in the background—diagnostic stations syncing, environmental readouts streaming in real time, security sensors adjusting calibration thresholds.

They’re watching, he thought.

Not just the guards. Not just the medic.

All of them.

The Federation. The administrators. Whatever black-flag chain of command Geras reported to. He didn’t know how far it went. He didn’t know what parts were lies. Only that enough of it had cracked.

His father’s file had too many blanks.

Cradle Planet’s fall didn’t match the official briefings.

Kael Ironhand’s death, cataloged forty-five years ago on Giselsin, mirrored everything they’d been taught to ignore.

It couldn’t all be coincidence. But he couldn’t prove it, either.

Kikaru’s voice flickered across his memory. Her talk of doctors, of something hidden in the records—unfinished, broken. That path still felt open, just buried.

But now Elara was here.

Holding him.

Supporting him.

Can I trust her?

He wanted to. fгeewebnovёl.com

Her uniform still bore the Valkyrie insignia. Her clearance still matched Cube X’s command tier. She still answered to the same system that lied. The same one that had kept him in a tank, sealed under glass, until something finally broke.

But her touch wasn’t official. it was

Her fingers weren’t trained responses.

Her voice didn’t come from protocol.

He felt her hold steady against his side, her breath slow, her hand still pressed behind his neck. Her boots leftlue feelings The red line depth Ice depth Vibing MOtions

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