EPISODE 12: Threadbreaker
1188 Words
The air shifted—again.
But this time, it wasn’t quiet.
It was rage.
The lights in the chamber buzzed violently overhead, pulsing like a heartbeat out of rhythm. Sparks spat from the broken glass surrounding the obsidian tank, and the walls vibrated as if some vast engine beneath the floor had just been awakened.
Seviah turned slowly to face him—the Threadbreaker.
That’s what the Archive called him. That’s what her body was beginning to understand. Because every second he was near her, something inside her came undone. Not physically. Not violently. But essentially.
Who she was… unraveled.
“What are you?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“A memory,” he said simply. “Once they couldn’t kill.”
Renn stepped forward, shoulders tense.
“If you come out of a cage, you’re not a memory. You’re a monster.”
The Threadbreaker smiled.
It was almost gentle.
“Is that what they told you?”
His eyes flicked toward Seviah.
“They told you stories too. That you were made to receive the Gift. That you were special.”
He took a step closer.
“They didn’t tell you the Gift was stolen.”
Seviah’s throat went dry.
“Stolen from who?”
“Me.”
The air cracked around him, and Seviah’s skin responded—goosebumps racing up her arms. Her breath caught as her heart beat once—twice—and then skipped.
The Original moved at last, stepping between them.
“This isn’t the way.”
“Isn’t it?” Threadbreaker said. You and I were born to tear the veil open. She’s the one they sent to close it.”
“Because it needed closing.”
“No,” he growled. “Because humans get scared.”
Suddenly, the room shifted.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Like their surroundings folded backward. The glass walls shimmered and turned to black trees. The floor cracked open and became soil. Moonlight poured through a canopy of stars that hadn’t been there seconds before.
Renn gasped.
“Where are we?”
“Not a where,” Seviah said. “A when.”
They stood now in the middle of an open field, surrounded by distant screams. Shadows moved in the distance. Buildings burned.
“This… this is the first test site,” she whispered.
The one from her visions.
The one she never knew if she had imagined or lived.
And at the center of it—three children.
Two girls.
One boy.
All glowing.
All holding hands.
Seviah stepped closer.
“That’s us.”
The boy let go of the girls’ hands and stepped forward toward a trembling researcher. The air shimmered, and the boy raised his arm—and the man exploded. No fire. No sound. Just... gone.
The girls—one white-haired, one glowing gold—screamed.
The boy fell to his knees.
And then, the field reset.
Gone again.
They were back in the chamber.
“Why show us that?” Renn spat.
“Because that was the truth,” the Threadbreaker said. “They blamed me for what they built me to do.”
“And now?” Seviah asked. “You want to finish what they started?”
He stepped forward, touching her wrist.
“No. I want you to decide what we become.”
Suddenly, her body flashed white.
Not in pain.
In awareness.
Memories from his mind flooded hers—cautious, steady. He let her see.
The endless testing. The isolations. The repetitions of voices screaming through the walls. His mother—her face erased. The Original, crying. The Archive learns him like code.
And worst of all…
Seviah’s face.
Younger.
Smiling.
Walking into the room where he’d been caged.
“You knew me,” she whispered.
“Before you forgot.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
He hadn’t stolen anything.
He’d been stripped.
He let go of her wrist, and she stumbled back, dizzy.
The intercom buzzed again.
“All active subjects: Termination orders have been deployed. Countdown initiated.”
Seviah’s blood ran cold.
“They’re purging the facility,” Renn said.
The walls began to hiss. Vents opened.
A faint chemical smell filled the air.
“Gas,” said the Original. “Protocol Omega-7.”
“We don’t have time,” Seviah said. We have to go. Now.”
“There’s no exit down here,” Renn growled.
The Threadbreaker turned to the wall and raised his hand.
His palm split open, light pouring from it.
The wall melted.
A tunnel appeared—pure white and humming with power.
“I built this escape years ago,” he said. “Just in case I ever woke up.”
“Where does it lead?”
“Somewhere they won’t follow.”
“And what’s waiting there?”
He looked back at her.
“The rest of us.”
They ran.
Seviah last.
As she passed through the broken wall, the facility exploded behind them. Not fire—light.
Purging everything.
Resetting the Archive.
Burning the labs.
The secrets.
The lies.
Ahead, a door opened into a vast open space.
Sky. Mountains. Stars.
Freedom.
But also—shadows.
Silhouettes waiting.
Watching.
Seviah slowed.
Beside her, the Threadbreaker whispered:
“The others are waking up.”
“What others?”
“The ones who remember the first war.”
“There was a war?”
“There will be.”
Nali stepped forward slowly, her dark curls tucked behind one ear, her expression unreadable. The glow in her eyes pulsed like a heartbeat—steady, deep, and unnerving.
Seviah felt her chest tighten.
“Nali?”
The girl didn’t respond immediately. She looked older than Seviah remembered—stronger, sharper—but her face still held the trace of that gentle smile from the orphanage.
“You’re alive,” Seviah whispered, stepping forward.
“I was never dead,” Nali replied. “Just… taken. Moved somewhere they thought you’d never find me.”
“But your file—”
“Was altered.”
She turned toward the Threadbreaker.
“He found me.”
Seviah looked between them.
“You know him?”
“He brought me out,” Nali said. “Helped me remember what they buried. We were the first wave, Sev. You and I. Before the Archives. Before the rooms. They experimented on us together.”
“Why didn’t I remember?”
“Because they made you forget.”
Seviah took a step back, the world shifting beneath her.
“You’re one of them now?” she asked, voice shaking.
Nali raised her hand—just enough to reveal a sigil glowing at the center of her palm. It wasn’t Archive-made. It pulsed like a living thing.
“I’m one of us.”
Then she looked up.
“And we remember the war.”
Seviah turned toward the Threadbreaker.
“You said the war is coming.”
“I didn’t say that,” he corrected. “I said…”
He smiled.
“There will be.”
And behind him, more shadows moved.
Some tall. Some small.
All glowing.
All Gifted.
And all looking at Seviah.
Waiting.
- Writer
