As we make our way to the center of the camp, we quickly come to the realization that this isn’t a real one in any sense. There are none of the amenities, none of the intentional arrangements that comes with setting up a refugee camp. Just endless rows of white, identical tents, all of them empty.

  After the better part of an hour of me walking and Morgan hovering, we come to a large clearing. It’s about the size of two football fields put together. In the center is a pile of garbage, nearly twenty feet across and six feet high. As I step into the clearing, the pile of garbage pulls itself together into a cube.

  Morgan looks at it incredulously.

  “Are we fighting a gelatinous landfill?”

  “I guess?”

  Morgan rolls her eyes.

  “I want to go to bed.”

  She quickly traces out an orb of fire, the outline quickly filling with a deep orange glow. With a snap of her fingers and a word of power more felt than spoken, it becomes more than a drawing.

  SPREADHADH!

  The orange bolt fires out and bores into the Gelatinous Landfill. After a split second, the entire slime explodes. Morgan dives behind me to avoid the wave of trash, which splatters all over me. I fish out a tuna can out from my gorget and toss it aside.

  “Gross.” Morgan says from behind me.

  “You’re the one who blew it up.”

  With the complete destruction of the Gelatinous Landfill, the entire Fracture shudders, and something about it changes. I’m not exactly sure what. It feels like the entire Fracture is more… ephemeral?

  It’s difficult to describe such an odd, esoteric feeling. A glowing orb appears in the center of the clearing, and I walk over to it. Morgan follows behind me, returning to the air.

  As I step up to the orb, a hum fills the air. What looks like another Fracture forms in the air, just ahead of us. I can see Lieutenant McKinley on the other side, though warped and distorted.

  I reach into the orb, and it disappears with a pop. A pair of crystals, each one looking like quartz, drops into my open hand. I hold one up, inspecting it. It slowly shifts colors, never staying on one for long. It shifts up and down the infrared, visual, and ultraviolet spectrums in a slow, rhythmic motion.

  “Well, time to go, I think. Not sure there’s anything left here to find or kill.”

  Morgan drops down without a word and steps through the exit, and I quickly follow her, crystals in hand.

  Moments after I step through back into our world, the Fracture shudders, and with a hum, vanishes. I look down at myself, covered in garbage, and turn to McKinley.

  As soon as the Fracture disappears, the crowd barely held back by soldiers erupts into cheers. Some burst into the tears of banished fear, and the belief that everything is going to be alright. All three of us have to lean in close to each other to be heard over the roaring, jubilant crowd.

  McKinley wrinkles her noise at the stench wafting from the monster remains coating my armor.

  “I don’t suppose you could arrange for a power washer?” I ask hopefully.

  She laughs.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She notices the strange crystals in my hand.

  “What are those?”

  Morgan peers more deeply at them, and I offer them to her. She takes them and studies them for a minute. She looks excited but exhaustion quickly overpowers her curiosity.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll need more time to take a look at them.”

  She yawns.

  “After I sleep for a week.”

  She hands them back to me before trudging off to find a place to sleep. With a flash of light, I store them away.

  McKinley turns away, and I go to follow her.

  “Come on, the vehicle pool is this way. I’m sure they’ve got a power washer.”

  The next morning has both myself and Morgan far away from anything and anyone. It’s one of the few areas not crowded with refugees, the rocky terrain unsuitable for use. In her hands are the two chromatic crystals, and she turns them over, eyeing them while lounging in the air.

  “Well? Any idea what they are?” I ask.

  She hums for a moment before responding.

  “They’re… shards of something larger. That’s mostly what I’m getting. It’s like a piece of a fractal, something infinite. I think Potentia is locked inside, like a battery, maybe?”

  “Do you think we can use them for something? These Fractal Shards?”

  She looks thoughtful for a second before handing me one.

  “Here, hold this one. I’m going to try something.”

  She floats a little bit away from me, holding one crystal. She draws a magic circle with a few quick motions, and a small blue beam fires upwards. It looks a little bit like a laser pointer. Morgan closes her eyes in concentration. A second later, I watch as a tendril extends from the Fractal Shard and connects to the beam’s magic circle.

  Stolen story; please report.

  With a crack, the Fractal Shard shatters, turns into dust, and swirls into the magic circle. The small blue beam turns into a roaring column of energy blasting high into the sky. The huge torrent of fire blots out the sun and sounds like a hundred Niagara Falls.

  A veritable tornado follows the flame, throwing leaves, trash, and branches into the raging inferno. With her other hand, Morgan rapidly draws out a few symbols before they burst, and a magical shield surrounds her with prismatic energy.

  She gets the defensive spell off just in time as the rock beneath us begins to glow with heat, and I sink into the softened stone. It sputters out a few moments later.

  “Huh,” Morgan says, her red hair frizzy from the energy discharge, “I guess that’s one thing we can do with them.”

  I watch as the black plastic case containing the second Fractal Shard clicks closed, and it leaves the tent under guard. They’re headed off to some top secret research lab. It turned a laser pointer into something closer to a solar flare than anything terrestrial, so I can’t say I blame them for wanting to be careful with it.

  I turn back to the table. I have more important things to do. I can’t even interact with Potentia like everyone else. Whatever they do with it is entirely out of my wheelhouse. I have plenty of other things to do, anyway.

  Morgan’s distracted, watching the backs of squad taking away the single remaining Fractal Shard.

  “Something wrong, Morgan?” I ask.

  “Hm?”

  She turns back to me.

  “Oh, no. Just… there’s something about the Shards. Something we’re missing. I’m missing.”

  She exhaustedly rubs her face.

  “Maybe one day I’ll get time to take a look at them.”

  She waves at the large table in the command center in front of us. It’s covered in maps, documents, tablets, laptops, and other pieces of equipment needed to command a massive military response.

  “There’s so many Fractures, and now that we know we can clear them before they rupture, I can’t stay on the sidelines.”

  General Briggs clears his throat, getting our attention. It’s an odd feeling, having such important individuals treating us deference.

  “Your help is more valuable than ever, now. Since your dive into the deep, as it were, we’ve sent people into Fractures all over.”

  A grim look passes over his face.

  “Unfortunately, most of those who were sent in don’t have your abilities. Causalities are extremely high.”

  Morgan sucks in a breath.

  “How…?”

  “Half of the teams sent in did not return. A vast majority of the failed missions—” Such a clinical term for such a gruesome reality— “were made up of conventional troops. At this point, almost a thousand are missing, presumed dead.”

  Oh, God.

  Morgan freezes. Her grip on the table leaves finger-shaped dents in the metal table.

  A wave washes out from her, and everyone except me in the command center staggers. I taste grief and rage on a tongue I no longer have.

  “Why are you sending people into them?” Morgan asks, tears in her eyes. Hints of grief, rage, and admonishment lines her voice.

  General Briggs meets her gaze, determination and exhaustion evident in them in equal measure.

  “Because we have to, Sorceress le Fay. I don’t like it. No one does. But there aren’t enough Empowered or Ascended like yourself to go around. We don’t know which Fractures are more dangerous, which ones we have more time to prepare for. We have to dive into every one assuming it will rupture in three days. What other choice do we have?”

  Morgan looks back at the Fractal Shard, now long gone. An expression of curiosity is on her face.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask her.

  “I think, just maybe, I might be able to build an Opus that could measure Fractures.”

  General Briggs’ gaze sharpens.

  “Sorceress Morgan, if you think you can build a measuring device, we need it. The world needs it.”

  She looks at me, unsure.

  “Go,” I tell her. “I’ll keep clearing Fractures. If you can build a detector, you’ll save so many lives.”

  I look down at the table, rapidly cataloging Fractures across the entire Eastern Seaboard. My pathing algorithm jumps into overdrive.

  “I can do this. Go.”

  She slips by me, but not before grabbing my arm and looking up. I meet her eyes.

  “I’ll be back. You won’t have to do this alone.”

  I nod.

  “Thank you. But I’m not alone.”

  I gesture to the dozen officers in the command center.

  “I’ve never fought alone. That won’t change now.”

  Morgan smiles up at me.

  “Good luck, Seth. We’re counting on you.”

  I watch her leave the building, and I turn back to the assembled officers.

  “Alright. We’ve got some work to do. General, I’ve got a few ideas, if you’d hear them.”

  He nods.

  “Lay them on me.”

  We plan late into the night. By the time we’re done, there’s dozens of mugs with cold, stale coffee scattered around. McKinley is crashed out on a couch in an adjoining room. She has a big part to play in the coming days.

  General Briggs rubs his tired eyes.

  “Alright. That’ll work.”

  He collapsed into a chair with a groan.

  “We’ll keep updating you on new Fractures. Let us know when we have to change the plan.”

  “When?”

  He gives me a tired grin.

  “No plan survives first contact with the enemy, Ryans.”

  He waves me off with a yawn.

  “Get a move on. No time to waste.”

  I leave without another word, and I shake Lieutenant McKinley awake on my way out.

  “Huh, wuh?” She looks around bleary eyed.

  “Time to go.”

  I hand her tablet.

  “We’ve got monsters to kill.”

  She grasps at a cold cup of coffee and slugs it back with a grimace before taking the tablet.

  “Alright. Let’s go.”

  The Chinook’s cargo ramp lowers, and I step out, Lieutenant McKinley just a few steps behind. She has her usual helicopter pilot headset on, so we can talk over the deafeningly loud heavy lift helicopter. The dual spinning rotors throw trash, dirt, and loose leaves with their mechanical chuff-chuff. McKinley’s hair flutters in the turbulent air.

  “*Once you close the Fracture, we’ll lift off for Newark International. A C-5 will be waiting on the tarmac for you. We’ll be on the ground at DC an hour and twenty minutes after that. I’ll get you an updated ETA when you get out. Any questions?”

  I make my way towards the Fracture in Central Park, tentatively labeled as a Category-3 by my own efforts. Hopefully through Morgan’s, everyone will be able to measure them.

  “How is the hazardous material containment unit coming? It’s hard to say what’ll be in there and I’d hate to have to leave anything behind.”

  “It’s been delayed. We’ll have it available for you in DC. If you can’t store it and if you think it’s hazardous, leave it behind. Take what you can.”

  “Alright, I’m going in. I’ll be back.”

  I jump headlong into another Fracture.

  Here goes nothing.