My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 131: Ranged Killings

Chapter 131: Ranged Killings

Lunch came too fast, the cafeteria buzzing with shard users and guards. Elias grabbed a tray—stew again, lumpy and gray—and found a corner table. The air smelled of grease and tension, voices overlapping in a low roar.

His comm buzzed mid-bite, a sharp chime cutting through the din. "Elias Kael," the message read, stark on the screen. "Report to Warden Geras. Now."

He shoved the tray aside, the stew sloshing, and stood. Kikaru caught his eye across the room, her frown asking questions he couldn’t answer. He nodded once, heading for the door, his boots thudding on the tile.

The halls were cold, the sterile hum of the facility pressing against his ears. Guards nodded as he passed, their rifles glinting under the harsh lights. He reached Geras’s office, the reinforced door hissing open at his touch.

Inside, the room was sparse—matte black floor, dim lights, a desk cluttered with files. Geras sat behind it, his gray undershirt taut against his frame, his eyes sharp as he looked up. "Kael," he said, his voice gruff. "Sit."

Elias dropped into the lone chair, the metal creaking under him. His shard pulsed, a faint thump he felt more than heard. Geras leaned forward, his knuckles rapping the desk once.

"Mission’s still on," Geras said, his tone clipped. "You’re infiltrating the Primed Epics—week from now, team of four. But we’ve got a new piece."

The door hissed again, and Elias turned, his breath catching.

Colby walked in.

He wasn’t the wiry kid Elias remembered—Colby was a wall now, shoulders broad as a damn bulkhead, arms thick with muscle that strained his gray tank top. His white hair was buzzed short, one eye patched with black fabric, the other glinting sharp under the office lights. No shard glowed at his chest, no Ikona hovered nearby, but he moved with a weight that filled the room—boots thudding heavy on the black floor.

"Holy shit," Elias said, shoving up from the chair. "You’re jacked."

Colby stopped a few steps in, cracking a grin—small, dry, but real. "Yeah, well, almost dying does that to you." His voice was deeper now, edged with gravel, like he’d yelled himself raw and kept going.

Geras stayed behind the desk, arms crossed, watching them. Elias stepped closer, eyeing the way Colby’s biceps flexed even at rest. "Last I saw, Silas had you gassed, shard ripped out—thought you were done."

"Should’ve been," Colby said, rolling his shoulders—big slabs shifting under skin. "But Geras doesn’t let you quit." He nodded at the Warden, who just grunted.

Elias scratched his jaw, still processing. "You’re back with no shard? How?"

Colby flexed a hand, veins popping along his forearm. "Took a while to figure out. After Silas yanked Spock—my Ikona—I flatlined. Heart stopped, blood pooling, whole deal. Docs said the shard shock usually kills—soul energy cuts off, body quits. Woke up in a lab, tubes everywhere, Geras barking orders."

Elias leaned against the desk, boots scuffing the floor. "Labs? What’d they do?"

"Cool shit," Colby said, his patched eye steady. "Soul energy infusion—straight into the blood. They cracked my chest, pumped me full of some glowing mix—looked like liquid fire, burned like it too. Kept me stable, but I was a mess—couldn’t walk, couldn’t breathe right. They ran tests: hooked me to machines, dosed me with micro-shards, watched my vitals spike. Felt like my veins were gonna burst."

Elias whistled low. "Sounds brutal."

"Was," Colby said, shrugging—like it was just another day. "But it worked. Body adapted—muscle grew fast, strength doubled. Geras had me lifting slabs bigger than me, running sims ’til I puked. No shard, no Ikona—just raw output. Said I’m a ’proof of concept’ now."

"Proof of what?" Elias asked, glancing at Geras.

The Warden uncrossed his arms, leaning forward. "That shardless don’t mean useless. Colby’s vitals are off the charts—two hundred percent baseline, stable without a shard. We’re building something—tech, blood, whatever it takes. He’s your edge for the Primed Epics."

Colby’s jaw tightened, a thick cord of muscle flexing along his neck. His frame loomed—shoulders wide as a damn wall, arms bulging under his gray tank top like they’d been forged from steel. "Heard about it," he said, voice low and rough. "Kikaru told me—said it was brutal. Then I saw Randalp’s body in the med bay—burned black, split open. That’s my Spock doing that now. Vincent’s got it, and I want it back."

Elias leaned against the desk, boots scuffing the black floor. "Yeah, it was a mess. Three shards on him now—Spock, Nosey, Randalp’s Tock. Guy’s a walking arsenal."

"Three," Colby muttered, cracking his knuckles—big, meaty hands popping loud. "That’s why I’m here. Geras pulled me out of the lab for this—gonna snap that bastard’s neck and take Spock home."

Geras shifted behind the desk, arms uncrossing as he leaned forward. "You’ll get your chance," he said, voice clipped. "Mission’s locked—seven days, 0300 hours, when the system hits ninety users. Right now, we’re at ninety-four after Elara’s fight last night. You two, Kikaru, one more—going in as refugees. Elias cooks, Colby’s the ghost—no shard, no signal."

Elias smirked, crossing his arms. "Food’s my play, huh?"

"Worked on Kikaru," Geras said, a rare grin tugging his mouth. "Primed Epics are thin on supplies—you’re the bait. Colby’s muscle stays quiet ’til it’s time."

Colby rolled his shoulders, slabs of muscle shifting under skin. "Fine by me. What’s the holdup ’til then?"

"Training," Geras said, rapping the desk. "You and Elias drill with Kikaru—obstacle course, sims, whatever I throw at you. System’s pushing quests—Elias, check yours. Colby, you’re with me after this—suit fitting. Biosuit’s keyed to your specs."

Elias tilted his head. "You’re good with this? No shard, straight into that shitstorm?"

Colby flexed a hand, veins snaking thick along his forearm. "Had to be. After Silas ripped Spock out, I was done—flatlined right there. Blood stopped, chest caved, soul energy gone. Woke up in a lab, tubes jabbing everywhere, Geras yelling at the docs to keep me going."

Elias raised an eyebrow, boots grinding dust. "Labs? What’d they do?"