Forbidden Love - Fragments of Forgotten Love

Chapter 7

"Fight it," Costa urged, though I could see him struggling too. "Focus on my voice, on the memory anchor."

I squeezed the warm stone in my palm, feeling its stabilising pulse. The ghostly images flickered but didn't disappear entirely.

"There," Marcus pointed ahead. "The surface access."

A circle of pale light appeared above us—not the artificial glow of the underground, but something softer, more natural. As we climbed toward it, the psychic tether began to weaken, the invisible threads stretching thin.

We emerged into a world I barely recognised. The sky above was a deep amber colour, neither day nor night but something in between. Strange plants grew in twisted spirals around the entrance, their leaves shimmering with an oily iridescence. The air smelled of rain and something else—something alive and growing.

"Welcome to the surface," Marcus said, breathing deeply. "The atmospheric processors have been working to restore the original composition for decades. It's almost breathable without filters now."

A sleek and silent vehicle waited nearby, its surface seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it. Two figures emerged from it, their faces uncovered and friendly.

"Transport to the Sanctuaries," the driver said, a woman with silver hair and kind eyes. "I'm Kira. This is Dex." She gestured to her companion, a man whose arms were covered in the same shifting tattoos I'd seen on Sera.

"How long until we reach safety?" Costa asked, helping me toward the vehicle.

"Six hours if the weather holds," Dex replied. "But we'll be crossing Council territory for the first half of the journey. They'll be monitoring all routes."

As we settled into the vehicle's surprisingly comfortable interior, I caught a glimpse of movement in the distance—sleek aircraft rising from what must be New Avalon's centre, their searchlights cutting through the amber haze like knives.

"Retriever drones," Kira said, following my gaze. "They'll be scanning for your bio-signatures."

The vehicle hummed to life, its engine nearly silent as we accelerated away from the access point. I watched the strange landscape through the window—a world transformed by centuries of environmental catastrophe and recovery. Twisted forests of metallic-looking trees gave way to vast plains where the soil itself seemed to pulse with faint luminescence.

"The anchor stones will mask your signatures temporarily," Marcus explained, gesturing to the devices we still clutched. "But they won't fool the Void Walkers for long."

"What exactly are they?" I asked, unable to shake the image of those distorted figures emerging from the tunnel.

Dex's expression darkened. "Former preservation subjects whose minds fractured during reset. The Council found they could repurpose the damaged psyches—turn them into trackers who exist partially in normal space and partially in what they call the void state."

"That's monstrous," Costa whispered.

"It's efficient," Marcus replied bitterly. "Who better to hunt escaped subjects than those who share the same psychic resonance?"

The vehicle swerved suddenly, diving into a ravine that hadn't been visible until we were nearly upon it. Kira navigated with practised ease, following what appeared to be a dry riverbed.

"Sensor shadow," she explained. "The mineral deposits in these canyons interfere with tracking systems."

As we traveled deeper into the transformed wilderness, the echowisps began to appear again—not in the frantic clusters we'd seen underground, but solitary orbs drifting like dandelion seeds on the wind. Their whispers were different here, less urgent, more contemplative.

"The land remembers," one seemed to say as it floated past our window.

"They're everywhere," I murmured. "Not just in the facility."

"The Collapse left psychic scars on the world itself," Dex said. "Places where millions died in moments, hope was extinguished, and choices were taken away—they all generate echowisps."

The amber sky gradually darkened to a deep copper as we travelled, and stars appeared as strange, shifting constellations I didn't recognise. When the moon rose, it was surrounded by a prismatic halo that cast rainbow shadows across the landscape.

"The atmospheric changes," Marcus explained, seeing my wonder. "The light refracts differently now."

Costa had been quiet, staring out at the altered world with an unreadable expression. Finally, he turned to me. "Are we doing the right thing?" he asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Running. Leaving the others behind." His green eyes searched mine. "If what they say is true. if we really are symbols that could help end the Council's rule over its people or what should have been my people. I don’t even remember signing up for the program.”

“Neither do I, remember signing up. Can we see the files showing us signing up for this program? Around the time I met Costa, it was found out that my father had a mistress, and she had a son, my half-brother. Do you know what happened to him? I’m starting to remember our last few moments together 600 years ago we were at a park after to had told your parents the King and Queen that you would only marry me, then royal guards grabbed us I was charged with enchantment or something like that then it goes black until the awakenings. We might be able to save our people, but first we need to regain our strength, only then will we be able to help them.” I said.

Marcus hesitated, exchanging glances with Kira through the rearview mirror. "There's something we haven't told you."

"More secrets?" Costa's voice held a sharp edge.

"Not secrets," Dex said gently. "Incomplete information. The files you're asking about—the consent forms for preservation—they don't exist."

My heart seemed to skip a beat. "What do you mean?"

"You never volunteered," Marcus said quietly. "None of the subjects did. After your public declaration of love defied both families, you were declared enemies of the state. The official record states you were executed for treason."

"Executed?" Costa's face went pale.

"It was the perfect cover," Kira continued, navigating through a field of crystalline formations that glowed faintly in the moonlight. "The Council's predecessors—the Emergency Preservation Committee—took anyone with desirable genetic profiles. The world was ending. They didn't ask permission."

The vehicle fell silent as we absorbed this. My fingers found Costa's, intertwining with his.

"Your half-brother," Marcus said after a moment, "Elliot Jackson. He became a resistance leader during the early years of the Council's rule. There are monuments to him in the Eastern Sanctuaries."