My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 153: Hack Saw

Chapter 153: Hack Saw

Her words carried a heavy undertone, sharpened by Asurik’s warnings, the lessons etched in blood from the chaos she’d witnessed in the last bloodbath. Distrust lived there now — a blade she carried whether she wanted to or not.

Elias nodded once, his hands tightening around the edge of his sleeves, knuckles whitening. The pod’s hum pressed against his ears, steady and low, matching the beat of his own pulse.

"Yeah," he said, his voice firm, "but shard users stop shard users."

The thought pulled hard against him, dragging forward the memory of Yui’s unchecked dominance, the devastation the Epics had left behind in their wake — laughing while entire bases crumbled just for sport.

"They took down a base for fun," Elias said, the words rough. "If we can do something — anything — we should try."

His shard throbbed once under his ribs, a pulse that wasn’t fear or doubt but something harder, something that Dot’s steady blue glow at his side echoed in quiet support.

Across the hallway, Paul shifted, rubbing at his face as he leaned back against his pod, his Ikona flickering faintly at his side like a dying spark.

"I heard they’re ramping up activity," Paul said, voice low, roughened by exhaustion. "But that’s a talk for later."

Kikaru dragged her hand down her face with a rough exhale, her golden Ikona pulsing weaker against her chest. The frustration bled through her movements, sharp and unfiltered.

"And how exactly do we get out?" she snapped, swinging her arm toward the sealed door.

Her voice cracked under the weight of it, brittle enough to leave an echo bouncing between the steel walls. The bolt-locks clanked again as if mocking the question, the thick layers of reinforced metal standing silent and immovable — a fortress built to hold them as much as anything else.

Elias let out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as the weight of Kikaru’s words sank deeper.

"Oh... right. That," he muttered under his breath.

His shard ached low in his chest, a dull, constant throb, and Dot’s hum pressed steady against his wrist, a quiet reminder to breathe when the walls felt like they were closing in. He glanced across the group — Kikaru’s fists clenched tight at her sides, Faye’s wide, uncertain eyes catching the red light, Tidwell’s restless knife flashing as it spun between tense fingers, Paul’s exhausted nod, Junjio standing frozen, barely breathing, his silence thick with fear.

Without a real command passing between them, the group scattered into motion.

Footsteps thudded unevenly across the cramped quarters, their Ikonas flaring dimmer and sharper as each of them turned desperate energy toward the impossible task of escape.

Kikaru threw herself at a vent panel, her Ikona blazing brighter for a second as she pried at the frame. Metal groaned but held, refusing to budge. She cursed sharply under her breath, the frustration leaking raw.

"Nothing!" she bit out, voice tight.

Faye moved along the wall, fingers tracing along a cracked maintenance screen, her music Ikona humming low, the sound faltering like a broken melody. She tapped once, then twice, shaking her head slowly.

"We’re trapped," she whispered, voice soft but final.

Tidwell stalked the walls, knuckles rapping against the metal with sharp taps, the blade of his knife flickering in restless motion.

"Waste of time," he growled, his words more a warning to himself than a comment meant for anyone else.

Paul and Junjio turned their search upward, scanning the ceiling, their Ikonas dim and uncertain. Paul exhaled heavily, dragging his hand through his hair again.

"Solid as Lockaway," he muttered.

Junjo hovered behind him, voice barely a breath.

"What now?"

Elias paced the corridor, his shard pulsing harder now, matching the quickening beat of his steps. His eyes flicked across every pod, every seam, every possible weak point — but he found only sealed panels, metal too thick to punch through, and faint, hidden sensor lines buried in the walls, the soft buzz of technology he barely understood pressing against his senses.

Five minutes dragged past, the weight of failure settling thick in the stale air.

Their search had turned up nothing. No weak seams. No hidden overrides. No way out.

The recycled systems hummed low and steady, but even that sound felt tighter now, as if the air itself was folding in against them.

Kikaru let out a sharp, ragged breath and kicked hard at a vent panel, the metallic clang ricocheting off the walls.

"Damn it!" she snarled, her Ikona flaring bright for a moment, a burst of frustrated gold that died almost as fast as it came.

Faye shrank back from the sound, the frayed edges of her composure showing as she pressed herself against the nearest wall. Her music Ikona fluttered weakly behind her shoulder.

"There’s nothing," she said, her voice breaking, the finality of it hitting harder than any scream could have.

Across the hall, Tidwell froze mid-step, his knife pausing in his restless twirl.

"Told you," he muttered, the edge in his voice cutting as sharp as the blade he gripped, his eyes hard and tired.

Elias pushed himself back toward his pod, his limbs heavy, every step weighted down by the gnawing reality sinking deeper into his chest.

Dot hovered close, her glow steady against the gloom, her hum a constant, quiet tether.

He leaned against the pod’s window, the glass cool against his palm. For a second, he thought it was just the cold sweat slicking his skin — but then the glass shifted, gave slightly under the pressure.

Frowning, Elias pressed harder, and the window crumbled inward without resistance.

Behind it, half-concealed in the frame, lay a stretch of artificial plants, their synthetic leaves drooping under the slow drip of a sprinkler system tucked above — the water beading and falling at intervals, a faint rhythm against the floor.

Beyond the greenery, a metal plate caught the low light, seams just barely visible under the layer of accumulated grime.

Elias straightened, the spark of possibility threading sharp through the weight pressing him down.

"Dot," he said quietly, feeling his shard thrum low against his chest, "create a hacksaw."

Her glow sharpened instantly, forming into the jagged shape of a cutting tool, the edge glinting with a thin, precise shimmer.