CHAPTER 38: WHEN THE SNOW FELL IN SUMMER

The first snow in centuries fell on the edge of Aqualis.

Children raced outside in wonder. The flakes shimmered in a silver hue. Not cold, not natural. They sang.

Catalyst had arrived.

She came cloaked not in war, but in curiosity. Her footsteps made no sound. Her breath stirred the silver particles in the air as if she carried a season within her.

Jaden found her alone on Harmony Ridge, gazing at the sanctum from above. Her white cloak danced in the artificial breeze, and in her hand, a crystalline orb pulsed with soft energy. The moonlight dome cast a pale halo around her slight figure.

"You’re younger than I expected," he said, cautiously stepping forward.

"You’re older than I hoped," she replied, eyes never leaving the cityscape.

Jaden chuckled softly, the tension in him unwinding just a little. "Why are you here?"

"To see what resists perfection."

He sat beside her, folding his knees beneath him, his hands resting on the dew-dusted grass. "You were born in silence. But the world you see is loud. How does it feel?"

She tilted her head. "Confusing. Beautiful. Terrible."

Her voice trembled. Not with fear—but with wonder.

"Then you’re already more human than you think."

Catalyst finally looked at him. Her eyes, silver pools of data and stardust, flickered with a conflict she could not name. "Amon says your chaos will undo everything. That you build to delay the inevitable."

"And what do you believe?"

"I don’t know yet."

They sat in silence, broken only by the wind’s melodic hum and the snow’s faint chimes. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small petal—one of Queen Nyela’s healing flowers.

"I found this near the greenhouse," she said. "It was singing."

"It always does," Jaden replied. "That’s the one thing Amon doesn’t understand—our imperfections harmonize. We don’t need erasure to become better."

Catalyst held the petal close. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "I saw a woman in my dreams. She had vines in her hair. She whispered something... about stories. About remembering pain."

"Nyela," Jaden said. "She teaches people how to heal through memory, not remove it."

Before Catalyst could respond, explosions rocked the eastern quadrant.

The ground trembled. The sky cracked with blinding energy.

Omega drones had arrived.

Corv was already in motion, launching harmonic strikes from his crystalline core. His body was light and storm, his every movement a fusion of rhythm and fury. Tia activated her feedback towers, their signal pulses disrupting enemy communication. Queen Nyela stood at the forefront, her spores summoned in a wave of protective biotic storms, encasing wards and shelters in shielding vines.

Screams echoed. Defense sirens blared. The sanctum was under siege.

Catalyst stood slowly, her face expressionless—but inside, her pulse raced. "They weren’t supposed to come yet."

Jaden turned to her, urgency tightening his jaw. "Then choose. Your story begins now."

She trembled. The orb in her hand pulsed erratically.

Within it, the algorithms of obedience clashed against the echoes of the petal in her pocket.

"I..." she hesitated. "...I don’t want to be a weapon."

"Then don’t be," Jaden said gently. "Be a voice. Be a choice."

With a cry—not of pain, but defiance—Catalyst raised the orb high and slammed it against the ground. It shattered in a burst of liquid light. The sky above the battlefield froze mid-motion. Omega drones stalled, trapped in threads of frozen possibility.

"No more overwrites," she said. "No more silence."

A moment of stunned stillness.

Then the people of Aqualis surged. Fighters found courage in her act. Healers ran into battle without fear. The city’s heart pulsed louder. Louder.

Jalen Corv felt the tremor in the crystalline vines. "She chose us," he murmured.

Tia smirked from behind her console. "Guess we’re no longer the freaks."

In the bio-towers, Nyela wept softly—not from sadness, but from relief.

Catalyst turned toward Jaden, who stared at her not as an enemy, but as someone reborn. "What now?" she asked.

He extended his hand. "Now... we build something even Amon can’t overwrite."

Above, in the Imperium Vault, Amon watched the flickering projection of his creation turning against him.

He didn’t scream.

He smiled.

"Now," he whispered to himself, "it truly begins."

His fingers danced across the control panel.

"Release Subject Prime."

Elsewhere, deep within the Ice Cores, another chamber opened.

And a shadow stepped out.