The Red Pulse

Eliar didn't move for a long time. He sat slumped against the jagged rock, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his body trembling from exhaustion and adrenaline. The faint warmth of the crimson energy still lingered in his palms, a phantom sensation that refused to fade. His fingers twitched involuntarily, as if expecting the light to return.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself, staring at his hands like they belonged to someone else. He flexed his fingers, trying to summon that strange power again, but nothing happened. The air around him remained still, heavy, and unyielding.

The barrier he'd created flickered faintly at the entrance of the crevice, casting jagged shadows on the walls. Outside, the creatures circled restlessly, their guttural growls rising and falling in eerie unison. Every now and then, one would swipe at the barrier, its claws scraping against the shimmering surface, but it held.

For now.

Eliar pressed his forehead against the cold stone behind him, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The energy he had felt—chaotic and overwhelming—wasn't magic. At least, it didn't feel like the kind of magic he'd read about in books. It had a pattern, a structure that he could almost understand if he thought about it hard enough.

It was like the equations he had worked on in his past life—wild and unpredictable on the surface, but with an underlying logic that revealed itself to those willing to dig deep enough.

"Past life," he murmured bitterly. That's what it was now, wasn't it? His life as Eliar Vayne, the mathematician, the man obsessed with unraveling the mysteries of the universe, was over. Dead and gone.

And now he was… here.

"Where is here?" he asked aloud, his voice cracking. The words felt meaningless against the oppressive silence of the world around him. The sky above the crevice was just as alien as it had been when he first woke—an endless expanse of darkness streaked with glowing red veins that pulsed faintly, as if the sky itself were alive. The air was thick and metallic, clinging to his throat with every breath.

Eliar closed his eyes, trying to suppress the rising panic. He needed to think, to focus. There had to be some logic to this, some kind of explanation. He replayed the moments before his death—the reactor, the explosion, the light. It didn't make sense. None of it did. He should've been dead.

Maybe he was dead.

The sound of claws scraping against the barrier brought him back to the present. His eyes snapped open, his heart lurching. The creatures hadn't left. Their glowing eyes stared at him from the other side of the flickering light, unblinking and filled with hunger. They weren't going anywhere.

The barrier wouldn't last forever. He could feel it, the faint connection between himself and the energy wavering like a thread about to snap. Whatever force he had tapped into, it was finite, and it was running out.

Eliar forced himself to his feet, every muscle in his body protesting. He leaned against the wall of the crevice, his legs shaking beneath him. "Think, Eliar. Think." He scanned his surroundings, searching for anything that could help him. The crevice was narrow and uneven, its walls jagged and slick with some kind of faintly glowing residue. The ground beneath his feet was cold and unyielding, littered with sharp stones.

He couldn't stay here. If the barrier fell while he was cornered in this crevice, he wouldn't stand a chance. The creatures would tear him apart.

"Okay," he said, his voice trembling. "You need to move. You need to—"

A sharp crack interrupted his thoughts. His head snapped toward the barrier, his breath catching in his throat. One of the creatures had struck it again, but this time, the light flickered dangerously. The crimson threads began to unravel, tiny fractures spreading through the energy like cracks in glass.

Eliar's pulse quickened. "Oh, come on! Not now!"

He stumbled forward, his mind racing. He had no idea where to go, no idea what lay beyond the crevice, but staying here wasn't an option. He took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he reached out toward the barrier. The faint warmth of the energy sparked in his palms again, but it was weaker now, erratic and unstable.

"Just a little longer," he muttered, his voice desperate. "Hold on, damn it."

The creatures outside growled, their movements becoming more frantic as they sensed the barrier weakening. Eliar could see the hunger in their eyes, the way their slick, black bodies twitched with anticipation. They were waiting for him to fail.

And he was failing. He could feel it.

Panic clawed at the edges of his mind, but he forced it down. He didn't have time for fear. He had to act. He turned and scrambled deeper into the crevice, his hands and knees scraping against the rough stone as he moved. The narrow passage twisted and turned, the walls closing in around him until he could barely squeeze through.

Finally, the crevice opened into a wider space—a hollowed-out chamber hidden within the jagged rock. Eliar stumbled into it, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. The air here felt different, heavier somehow, and the faint glow of the crimson veins in the walls cast eerie shadows across the space.

He collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving. Behind him, he could still hear the creatures clawing at the barrier, their shrieks echoing through the narrow passage. The sound made his skin crawl.

For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe. To think. His hands trembled as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the glowing veins in the walls. The energy pulsed faintly beneath his touch, sending a shiver up his spine. It was the same energy he had felt before, the same chaotic force he had somehow bent to his will.

He stared at the glowing threads, his mind racing. What are you?

It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. But if he was going to survive, he had to figure it out. He didn't have a choice.

The creatures' shrieks grew louder, and Eliar knew his time was running out. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He wasn't ready to die—not again.

"Alright," he said, his voice steadying. "Let's see if I can figure you out."