Time behaved differently here.
Kaelen felt it immediately—a strange elasticity to each moment, as if seconds could stretch into hours or compress into microseconds at the whim of some unseen force. The air itself seemed charged with potential, thick with a power that made his skin tingle and the hunger within him surge with renewed intensity.
"Welcome to the Crimson Court, harbinger," Dr. Voss repeated, her voice a dissonant chorus of overlapping tones. "We have waited through many cycles for one such as you."
Kaelen studied her carefully. Though she maintained Lydia Voss's physical form, something fundamental had changed. Her movements were too precise, too deliberate—as if her body were an instrument being played by an entity that had never inhabited human flesh before. The entropic light that shone from her eyes pulsed in rhythm with the walls around them.
"Dr. Voss," he said cautiously, "are you still in there?"
A smile spread across her face—too wide, too knowing. "Lydia Voss serves as vessel now. A willing conduit for the Court's wisdom." She tilted her head at an unnatural angle. "She sought understanding. We granted it."
Beside him, Vex tensed. "What have you done to her?"
"Elevated," replied the entity wearing Voss's form. "As we shall elevate all who prove worthy."
The glass-like beings around the hall moved closer, their movements fluid yet mechanical. Kaelen counted twelve of them, arranged in a perfect circle around the central platform where Voss stood. Their featureless faces reflected the crimson light, creating the illusion of constantly shifting expressions.
"What is this place?" Roland whispered, his scientific curiosity momentarily overriding his fear. "It can't possibly exist within normal space-time."
"It doesn't," Voss—or whatever spoke through her—replied. "The Court exists at the nexus of all realities. The point where all possible worlds intersect."
Kaelen took a step forward, drawn by an instinct he couldn't name. The hunger within him responded to this place, recognizing something kindred in its impossible architecture.
"You're the ones behind the Tower," he said. It wasn't a question. "You're causing the unmaking."
"Not causing. Guiding." Voss gestured to the window-like aperture behind her. Through it, Kaelen could see fragments of different realities—cities in various stages of dissolution, some barely touched by entropy, others almost completely unmade. "The cycle of unmaking and remaking is the natural order. We merely... refine the process."
"By destroying entire worlds?" Vex's voice carried an edge of barely contained rage.
"By transforming them," corrected Voss. "Nothing truly ends. It merely changes form."
She turned her attention fully to Kaelen now, studying him with those luminous eyes. "You have begun to understand this, haven't you, harbinger? Each time you consume, you preserve. You transform. You carry forward what would otherwise be lost."
The truth of her words resonated uncomfortably within him. Each consumption had changed him, adding layers to his being—Marcus's desperate courage, Mercer's tactical precision, even fragments of the nameless creatures he'd absorbed in moments of need.
"Why me?" he asked, the question that had haunted him since his awakening. "Why was I... selected?"
"You weren't." Voss smiled again, that too-wide expression that never reached her eyes. "Klein Moretti was. You are... an unexpected variable."
The revelation struck Kaelen like a physical blow. "What?"
"Klein Moretti possessed a unique neurological architecture," Voss continued, circling him slowly. "A mind capable of processing and integrating entropic patterns without dissolution. We had been observing him for some time."
"But I'm not Klein," Kaelen said, though the statement felt increasingly uncertain. The memories he'd accessed, the instinctive knowledge of this world—all belonged to Klein, yet had somehow become part of him.
"No. You are something else. A consciousness that arrived at the precise moment of selection." Voss stopped directly before him. "A fascinating anomaly within an Anomaly."
Roland stepped forward, his scientific mind clearly racing. "Are you saying that Kaelen's consciousness somehow... intercepted the process meant for Klein?"
"Precisely." Voss nodded, pleased. "When the Tower initiated the unmaking, Klein Moretti was to become our harbinger—our agent of transformation. Instead, we found you, Kaelen. A mind from elsewhere, occupying the vessel we had prepared."
The implications were staggering. Kaelen wasn't just an accident of the unmaking—he was an interloper in a process designed for someone else entirely.
"And yet," Voss continued, "you have exceeded expectations. Your consumption patterns, your adaptability... you may prove more suitable than our original selection."
One of the glass beings moved forward, extending what might have been an arm. From its fingertips, threads of crimson light emerged, weaving complex patterns in the air.
"It is time to determine your true potential," Voss announced. "The Test of Harbingers will begin."
Vex moved protectively toward Kaelen. "What test? What are you planning to do to him?"
"To show him what he truly is," Voss replied. "And what he may become."
The threads of light suddenly shot forward, enveloping Kaelen before anyone could react. They didn't touch him physically but seemed to pass through his skin, connecting directly to something deeper—his consciousness, perhaps, or whatever passed for his soul in this dissolving reality.
Images flooded his mind—not like the fragmented visions from the fountain, but complete, immersive experiences. He was no longer standing in the Crimson Court but falling through a kaleidoscope of worlds:
A city of crystalline towers, its inhabitants evolved beyond physical form, dissolving into patterns of pure thought as a Tower rose on the horizon.
A primeval landscape where massive creatures with too many limbs and eyes fled from advancing walls of unreality, their bodies unraveling strand by strand.
A world of perpetual twilight where humanoid figures performed elaborate rituals around miniature replicas of the Tower, their bodies gradually transforming into vessels of entropic energy.
With each vision, Kaelen felt himself absorbing something—not memories or powers, but understanding. The Tower wasn't a single entity but a multiversal constant, appearing in infinite variations across countless realities. And the Crimson Court... they were its architects, its curators, selecting and preserving elements from each cycle of unmaking to incorporate into the next iteration of reality.
"Do you see now?" Voss's voice penetrated the visions. "The pattern repeats. The cycle continues. But each time, something is preserved. Something evolves."
The visions shifted, showing Kaelen something new—harbingers from previous cycles. Beings like him, selected for their unique capacity to consume and integrate entropy. Some appeared almost human; others were utterly alien. All served the same function: to absorb and preserve the most valuable elements of their dying realities.
"This is your purpose," Voss continued. "To consume what deserves continuation. To become the vessel that carries the essence of this world into the next cycle."
The crimson threads retracted suddenly, leaving Kaelen gasping. He found himself on his knees, the mosaic floor cool beneath his palms. The hunger within him had transformed, becoming something more focused, more purposeful.
"What did you do to him?" Roland demanded, helping Kaelen to his feet.
"Awakened his true nature," Voss replied. "The harbinger must understand his role if he is to fulfill it properly."
Kaelen steadied himself, the afterimages of countless worlds still flickering behind his eyes. "And if I refuse this role? If I don't want to be your... harvester?"
For the first time, Voss's expression changed to something approaching concern. "The unmaking cannot be stopped, harbinger. It can only be shaped. Without your guidance, entropy will consume indiscriminately. Everything will be lost."
"She's manipulating you," Vex warned quietly. "Don't trust anything they say."
Voss turned her luminous gaze to Vex. "You speak from ignorance, Anomaly. Or perhaps... not?" Her head tilted again, studying him with new interest. "Your pattern is... familiar."
A flicker of something—fear? recognition?—crossed Vex's face before he masked it. "We need to leave," he said to Kaelen and Roland. "Now."
"There is nowhere to go," Voss said simply. "The Court exists outside conventional space-time. You cannot leave without our permission."
"Or without a harbinger's power," Kaelen countered, a new certainty forming within him. The visions had shown him more than just the nature of the cycle—they had revealed something about his own abilities, about the potential that lay dormant within him.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the hunger that had been his constant companion since awakening. But instead of letting it consume him, he directed it—shaped it with his will. The notebook in his pocket vibrated violently, and he pulled it out, finding the pages filled with symbols identical to those on the floor beneath them.
"What are you doing?" Roland asked, watching in fascination as Kaelen traced one of the symbols with his finger.
"Testing a theory," Kaelen replied, his voice steady despite the power building within him. The symbol began to glow with the same entropic light that filled Voss's eyes.
"Interesting," Voss observed, genuine curiosity in her multi-layered voice. "You learn quickly, harbinger."
"I'm not your harbinger," Kaelen said, continuing to trace symbols from the notebook. Each one activated in sequence, creating a chain reaction across the floor. "And I won't be part of your cycle."
The glass beings moved forward in unison, their featureless faces somehow conveying alarm. Voss raised a hand to stop them.
"You cannot escape your nature," she said. "The hunger will only grow. Eventually, you will understand the necessity of our work."
"Maybe," Kaelen conceded. "But I'll make that choice myself, not as your puppet."
He completed the final symbol, and a shock wave of entropic energy burst from the notebook. The mosaic floor cracked along precise lines, forming a new pattern—a doorway of sorts, outlined in pulsing light.
"Impossible," Voss whispered, her composure finally breaking. "You cannot create pathways without the Court's guidance. The risk of dimensional collapse—"
"I'm not creating," Kaelen interrupted. "I'm consuming in reverse. Giving back what was taken." He turned to Vex and Roland. "Get ready to move. This won't last long."
The doorway in the floor widened, revealing not darkness but a familiar sight—the university campus, though from an angle that suggested they would emerge somewhere different from where they had entered.
"Stop him!" Voss commanded, and the glass beings surged forward.
Kaelen grabbed Vex and Roland by their arms. "Jump! Now!"
They leapt into the opening just as the first of the glass beings reached them. As they fell, Kaelen heard Voss's voice one last time, no longer commanding but almost... pleased.
"Until we meet again, harbinger. The cycle continues, with or without your consent."
The sensation of falling lasted only moments before they crashed onto solid ground—concrete, cold and wonderfully real. Kaelen rolled onto his back, staring up at a night sky filled with stars partially obscured by the Tower's looming presence.
"We're back," Roland gasped, looking around in disbelief. "The east quad of the university."
Vex was already on his feet, scanning their surroundings with practiced vigilance. "We need to move. They'll find us again."
Kaelen stood slowly, his body aching from the dimensional transition. The notebook in his hand had changed—the pages now permanently marked with the symbols he had activated, the paper itself taking on a slight crimson tint.
"What happened back there?" Roland asked, his scientific curiosity evidently overwhelming his fear. "How did you create that portal?"
"I didn't create it," Kaelen explained, tucking the notebook away. "I... remembered it. The visions showed me pathways that already exist between realities. I just... opened one."
"That shouldn't be possible," Roland muttered. "Even Thorne's most advanced theories never suggested—"
"We can discuss theoretical physics later," Vex interrupted. "Right now, we need shelter and a plan." He turned to Kaelen, his expression unreadable. "And you need to tell us exactly what you saw in those visions."
Kaelen nodded, though he wasn't sure he could articulate the full scope of what he had experienced. The multiverse of unmakings, the endless cycle of destruction and rebirth, the harbingers who had come before him—it was too vast, too alien for simple explanation.
But one thing had become clear: the Crimson Court wasn't creating the entropy that consumed this world—they were harnessing it, directing it toward some greater purpose that spanned countless realities.
And they had chosen him—or rather, they had chosen Klein Moretti—to play a crucial role in that purpose.
"This way," Vex said, leading them toward a building that appeared relatively untouched by entropy. "There's an old emergency bunker beneath the Anthropology Department. Thorne showed it to me once—said it might be useful if things went wrong."
"Things have definitely gone wrong," Roland muttered, following close behind.
As they moved across the campus, Kaelen noticed something strange—the entropic distortions seemed to be avoiding them, creating a bubble of relative normality in their immediate vicinity. He could see the effect clearly now, with his enhanced perception: waves of unreality bending around them like water around a stone.
"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing to the phenomenon.
Vex glanced back, his eyes narrowing. "See what?"
"The entropy. It's... avoiding us." Kaelen watched in fascination as a nearby bench unraveled into component molecules, the process stopping precisely at the edge of their invisible bubble.
Roland studied the effect with scientific interest. "Some kind of entropic repulsion field? Is this your doing, Kaelen?"
"I don't think so," Kaelen replied, though he wasn't entirely sure. Since the encounter with the Crimson Court, his connection to entropy felt different—more controlled, more intentional.
They reached the Anthropology Department without incident—a squat, modernist building with concrete walls and narrow windows. Vex led them to a maintenance door at the rear, then down a service corridor to what appeared to be a janitor's closet.
"Stand back," he instructed, pressing his palm against a specific point on the wall. As at Thorne's laboratory, lines of blue light emerged beneath his touch, forming complex patterns before the back wall of the closet slid aside, revealing a narrow staircase.
"How many secret facilities did Thorne have?" Roland asked, sounding both impressed and slightly betrayed.
"More than he told any one person about," Vex replied, leading them down the stairs. "That was his insurance policy. No single individual knew everything."
The bunker was smaller than Thorne's laboratory but similarly equipped with technology that seemed beyond current scientific understanding. Screens displayed real-time data about entropic concentrations throughout the city, and a central holographic projection showed the Tower in extraordinary detail, layers of its structure rendered transparent to reveal the complex patterns of energy flowing within.
"Thorne called this the Backup Observatory," Vex explained, activating systems with practiced efficiency. "Less advanced than his main facility, but designed to operate independently if the primary lab was compromised."
"Which it now is," Roland added grimly, examining the equipment with a technician's eye. "The Agents and the Cult will have stripped it bare by now."
Kaelen approached the holographic Tower, studying its internal structure with newfound understanding. The visions had shown him that the Tower wasn't merely a physical construct but a multidimensional anchor point—a nexus where the Crimson Court's influence could manifest in this reality.
"We need to talk about what happened," he said finally, turning to face the others. "About what I saw."
Vex nodded, his expression grave. "Tell us everything."
Kaelen took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. "The Crimson Court isn't causing the unmaking—at least, not directly. They're... harvesting it. Using it to preserve elements from each reality before it collapses completely."
"Preserve for what purpose?" Roland asked.
"To incorporate into the next cycle. The next... iteration of reality." Kaelen struggled to articulate concepts that seemed to exist beyond language. "They believe they're saving what's worth saving before inevitable collapse."
"And the harbingers?" Vex prompted.
"Their agents in each world. Beings capable of consuming entropy and the essences of others—preserving them in a form that can survive the transition between cycles." Kaelen touched the notebook in his pocket. "That's what this hunger is. It's not just about power or survival. It's about... selection. Choosing what continues and what doesn't."
Roland looked troubled. "So they want you to be their... what? Their curator? Deciding what parts of our world deserve to survive?"
"Yes. But there's more." Kaelen hesitated, unsure how to explain the most disturbing revelation. "I wasn't their original choice. Klein Moretti was. I somehow... intercepted the process when the Tower appeared."
Vex and Roland exchanged a look that Kaelen couldn't interpret.
"That explains the discontinuity in your pattern," Vex said carefully. "When Thorne first examined you, he noted anomalies within your entropic signature—inconsistencies that didn't match his theoretical models."
"You knew?" Kaelen asked, a flicker of betrayal rising within him.
"We suspected something was unusual about your manifestation," Roland clarified. "But we had no framework to understand what it meant."
Vex moved to one of the computer terminals, typing rapidly. "There's something else you should know. Something Thorne discovered just before the attack on the sanctuary."
A new image appeared on the main screen—a map of the city with multiple points highlighted in different colors.
"These are entropic signatures similar to yours," Vex explained. "Other harbingers."
Kaelen stared at the map in shock. "There are more like me?"
"Not exactly like you," Roland said. "But entities with similar consumption patterns. Thorne identified at least three distinct signatures before communications were cut."
"The Court said Klein was selected," Kaelen murmured, trying to process this new information. "They didn't say he was the only one."
"It makes sense from an evolutionary perspective," Roland theorized. "Multiple candidates, competing to see which proves most effective."
The implications were staggering. Somewhere in the dissolving city, other harbingers were operating—consuming, selecting, perhaps even communicating with the Crimson Court.
"We need to find them," Kaelen decided. "These other harbingers. If they're working with the Court—"
"Or against them," Vex interjected. "We shouldn't assume their goals align with the Court's agenda."
A sudden alarm blared from one of the monitoring stations. Roland rushed to check it, his expression darkening.
"Massive entropic surge two kilometers east," he reported. "Concentrated around the Old City district."
Vex pulled up visual feeds on the main screen. The images showed a section of the city undergoing accelerated unmaking—buildings, streets, and people dissolving into component particles at an unprecedented rate. But unlike the chaotic dissolution they had witnessed elsewhere, this process seemed controlled, directed.
At the center of the phenomenon stood a figure that made Kaelen's blood run cold. Humanoid but clearly no longer human, its body partially transformed into the same glass-like substance as the Court's members. Entropic energy flowed from the surrounding area into the figure, which appeared to be absorbing the very essence of the dissolving reality.
"Another harbinger," Vex confirmed grimly. "But one that's much further along in the transformation process."
"It's consuming an entire district," Roland whispered, horror evident in his voice. "The population density in that area was—"
"We have to stop it," Kaelen interrupted, the hunger within him responding to the sight of the other harbinger—not with fear but with a primal recognition. Competitor. Rival.
"How?" Roland demanded. "If it's as powerful as it appears—"
"I can match it," Kaelen said with a certainty that surprised even him. The knowledge from the Court's visions crystallized into understanding. "The consumption goes both ways. It's not just about taking—it's about balance."
Vex studied him carefully. "You're suggesting we fight this harbinger directly? That's suicide."
"Not fight. Counterbalance." Kaelen pointed to the holographic Tower. "The Court needs harbingers to direct the unmaking, to make it selective rather than indiscriminate. But they don't control us completely—that's why they needed to test me, to try to convince me to accept their purpose."
"So what's your plan?" Roland asked.
Kaelen's gaze remained fixed on the other harbinger's destructive work. "We establish contact. Find out if they're willing allies of the Court or pawns being manipulated. And if necessary..."
"You consume them," Vex finished, his expression unreadable.
"Yes." The word hung in the air, heavy with implication. "If they've surrendered completely to the Court's agenda, they're a threat to whatever remains of this world."
Roland looked skeptical. "Even if we wanted to approach this... entity, the level of entropic distortion in that area would kill normal Anomalies within minutes."
"I can create a buffer zone," Kaelen said, remembering how entropy had bent around them on their way to the bunker. "The same way I opened the pathway from the Court. I can... push back against the dissolution, create a stable approach."
Vex and Roland exchanged another of those uninterpretable looks.
"There's something you're not telling me," Kaelen said, his patience wearing thin. "What is it?"
After a long moment, Vex nodded to Roland, who reluctantly activated another file on the system. A video recording appeared—Professor Thorne, looking haggard but still himself, recorded shortly before the attack on the sanctuary.
"If you're viewing this," Thorne's recorded image began, "then my worst fears have been confirmed. The harbingers have begun active consumption phases, and the Court's endgame is approaching."
Kaelen watched, transfixed, as Thorne outlined a theory that chilled him to the core: the harbingers weren't merely selecting elements for preservation—they were competing to determine which version of reality would form the template for the next cycle.
"Only one harbinger will ultimately be chosen," Thorne continued. "The others will be consumed or discarded. The Court creates this competition deliberately—a form of evolutionary pressure to identify the most efficient, most adaptable selector."
The recording continued, detailing Thorne's research into previous cycles—fragments of evidence suggesting that the fundamental nature of each new reality was shaped by the dominant harbinger's consumption patterns and inherent biases.
"The harbinger doesn't just choose what survives," Thorne concluded. "It becomes the foundation upon which the next iteration of existence is built."
The recording ended, leaving a heavy silence in the bunker.
"Why didn't you show me this before?" Kaelen asked quietly.
"Thorne wasn't certain," Roland replied. "It was theoretical, based on incomplete data. And he worried that knowing might influence your natural development as an Anomaly."
"Or push you toward the Court's agenda," Vex added. "If you believed you could shape the next reality."
Kaelen turned back to the screen showing the other harbinger's destructive work. The implications of Thorne's theory transformed everything. If true, he wasn't just fighting to survive this unmaking—he was potentially determining the fundamental nature of whatever came after.
"We still need to confront this other harbinger," he said finally. "But with a new purpose. Not just to stop the immediate destruction, but to understand what kind of reality they would create if they won this... competition."
Vex nodded slowly. "And to ensure that if a new reality must emerge from this collapse, it's shaped by someone who hasn't surrendered their humanity entirely."
"Someone like you," Roland added, looking at Kaelen with new understanding.
The weight of this responsibility settled over Kaelen like a physical burden. He had never asked to be a harbinger, never asked to be thrust into Klein Moretti's body at the moment of selection. But here he was, potentially holding the future of existence in his hands.
"We'll need weapons," he said, forcing himself to focus on immediate practicalities. "And a way to approach without being detected immediately."
"The bunker has an armory," Vex confirmed, moving toward a sealed door at the rear of the facility. "Thorne prepared for various contingencies."
As they began gathering equipment, Kaelen felt the notebook vibrating again in his pocket. He withdrew it, finding new symbols appearing on the pages—different from those he had used to escape the Court, but somehow familiar.
A message, perhaps. Or a warning.
The true nature of his role was becoming clearer, and with it, the terrible responsibility that had been thrust upon him. The Crimson Court, the other harbingers, the cycle of unmaking and remaking—all part of a cosmic process he had stumbled into by chance or fate.
But one thing was certain: he would not be a passive participant in their game. If reality itself was at stake, then he would fight to preserve what made it worth saving—not just for himself, but for all those who had already been lost to the entropy's advance.
The hunger within him stirred, no longer a mindless craving but a focused purpose. The test had only just begun