My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 155: New Quest Line

Chapter 155: New Quest Line

Elias exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of every look leveled at him.

Junjio stood frozen near the back, his frame rigid, fists clenched tight enough to tremble. His Ikona clung dimly to his shoulder, a frail flicker of light barely holding form. He hadn’t moved since the tunnel was revealed. Hadn’t spoken. Just stared — not at Elias, not at the others — but past them, like whatever answer he needed hadn’t shown up yet.

His silence filled the spaces the others had left behind. Where voices had clashed — Kikaru’s anger, Faye’s careful hope, Tidwell’s cynicism — Junjio left only the sound of his breathing, uneven and shallow. The absence of sound became a pressure of its own, pressing into the narrow space with more weight than any argument.

Elias exhaled slowly, his lungs tight. The weight of all their stares settled squarely on him — Kikaru’s sharp distrust digging in from one side, Faye’s cautious steadiness brushing against his other. Tidwell’s irritation, Paul’s quiet fatigue, and Wes’s unreadable stillness all added layers to the room that hadn’t been there minutes ago. A Block’s pod quarters felt smaller than ever.

The bolt-locks flared again, a deep red pulse across the ceiling panels, followed by that heavy metallic clank that had sealed them in. The sound didn’t lose any of its bite, even after hearing it over and over. The air pressed flat against the walls, stale and warm from recycled flow.

Oliver’s voice echoed again in Elias’s memory — a rogue shard user breach in B Block... swayed by the Epics’ views... stay in your blocks... let us handle this.

But nothing felt handled. And Vardency’s shadow hadn’t gone anywhere. It was still out there, thick behind the steel and silence.

Elias’s shard pulsed under his ribs, slow and steady, a dull throb that matched the tight ache settling into his chest. His sleepwear clung cold and damp to his skin, clinging to the remnants of adrenaline that hadn’t gone anywhere.

Dot hovered near his side, her glow casting soft blue arcs of light across the cracked pod floor, the lines of scuffed metal catching just enough of her hum to pulse faintly in return.

He closed his eyes for a second — just a second — and the chant came rushing back.

Blood binds.

The words whispered from memory, not volume — a rhythm etched into his spine during the carnage that had torn through Vardency. The bloodbath had left more than bodies in its wake. It left echoes. It left fear.

He blinked, and the sounds came back in a rush — Kikaru’s outburst. Faye’s trembling question. Tidwell’s curse cutting sharp through the dark.

The debris from the first explosion still sat at his feet. Not literal — but he felt it there, clinging like dust to the walls of his thoughts.

He shifted slightly, the floor cold beneath him, the stale hum of Cube X pressing in against his ears. And still, Junjio said nothing — but the silence itself screamed enough.

It demanded action. A decision. Something to break through what the locks wouldn’t.

The second explosion hit harder than the first.

The floor trembled under Elias’s boots, the walls shaking as if the facility itself had flinched. Somewhere beyond the tunnel’s jagged opening, a cry tore through the structure — raw, high-pitched, not just pain, but panic. A real scream, the kind that didn’t leave room for guessing.

Elias’s heart kicked in his chest, sharp and sudden. He staggered toward the pod, his boots grinding through loose debris. The hacksaw glinted where he’d left it, half-shadowed by the tunnel’s open mouth. Cold air curled out from the breach, and his breath fogged against the cracked pod screen as he leaned close.

Then the system flared.

A blue prompt hovered mid-air, soft but bright, just above the tunnel’s edge.

[NEW OBJECTIVE]

Save a Life — 30:00 Remaining

Reward: (1) Ikona Upgrade

Failure: Soul Energy access locked for 72 hours

The countdown started immediately, ticking down in the corner.

29:59. 29:58.

Dot hovered tighter at his side, her glow sharpening in response. Her hum didn’t falter. But the scream did — clipped off mid-sentence, the echo still vibrating in his ears. He reached for the hacksaw, the handle slick with sweat, his hands barely steady enough to keep the grip.

His throat locked. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just the weight of the system staring back at him, forcing a choice.

To act. Or to let someone die.

Kikaru’s pod flashed.

A golden prompt flared across her cracked screen as she stepped out, blood leaking through the gauze still wrapped around her ribs. Her orb Ikona pulsed sharply — not warm, not gentle — but steady, like a heartbeat on the edge of sprint.

The screen read:

[NEW OBJECTIVE]

Defeat (1) Shard User

Reward: (1) Extra Life

Failure: 1 Random Stat HALVED (Permanent)

A second later, it slid left, revealing her active stat profile in simple glowing text:

Strength: 50/100

Speed: 85/100

Intelligence: 70/100

Endurance: 90/100

Perception: 80/100

Instinct: 90/100

Kikaru’s eyes narrowed.

"No way I’m halving that," she muttered.

She didn’t sound panicked. Just cold — the weight of Asurik’s old warning sitting just beneath the surface, quiet but visible in her expression.

Faye stepped from her pod, her Ikona glowing faint at her shoulder, the melody rising a little as she spoke.

"Those are insane..." Her voice barely carried.

She wasn’t wrong.

Paul nodded from the side, lips tight. "Hell of a fighter." His own Ikona shimmered weakly at his side, already starting to dim.

Wes said nothing — just stood still, watching Kikaru.

Junjo didn’t speak either, but his hands shook harder now, his screen still dim, no prompt yet glowing.

Tidwell’s knife twirled between his fingers, faster now, the motion tight. His cloud Ikona stirred behind him, agitated, coils rising in sharp, frustrated bursts.

"Fuck sitting still," he snapped, the words cutting off cleaner than they used to. "I’m not about to lose half my brain—or anything."

He didn’t grin. The usual tilt in his voice, the edge of a joke waiting underneath, was gone. Left behind was stripped-down anger, fraying at the seams as his gaze locked on the bolt-locks, their red pulse flickering like a challenge he couldn’t touch.