Chapter 13 #3
But I was also saving the creature. And through our merged awareness, I could sense the portal network stabilizing, the global system of supernatural sites responding to clean fire instead of corruption. Energy was flowing properly again instead of being siphoned into Rosenthal’s artificial portal.
Hold on, I told myself. Or the phoenix told me. Or we told ourselves. The distinction didn’t matter anymore.
Somewhere distant, I heard shouting. Weapons firing. Ben’s voice, sharp with command. “Rebecca, east side, three contacts!”
DAPI had found us. The trap was springing.
Part of me tried to surface, tried to return to my body and help defend against the attack. But I was too deep in the merge, and I couldn’t separate now even if I’d wanted to. My consciousness was tangled with the phoenix’s, and pulling free now would kill us both.
Trust partner, the phoenix-part-of-me sent. He protects.
More weapon fire, close enough that I could sense it through my electromagnetic abilities — even though those abilities didn’t work the same way anymore. Now I sensed the guns’ signatures like foreign patterns in a field of fire, wrong-shaped and harsh.
Ben’s voice again. “Sidney, I need you to stay merged. Don’t try to come back yet. I’ve got this.”
He didn’t have it. I could sense at least twenty electromagnetic signatures converging on the clearing, surrounding our position and cutting off any escape routes.
But I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t do anything except keep burning away corruption and hope I could separate before DAPI captured my physical body.
Ninety percent. Eighty-nine. Eighty-eight.
The pain was constant now, a background screaming I’d learned to function through.
Every moment I stayed merged, I lost more of what made me Sidney.
Memories of childhood blurred into general impressions rather than specific events.
Emotional connections faded, becoming knowledge rather than feeling.
Even my love for Ben felt distant, like something I knew about rather than something I’d experienced.
That terrified me more than the pain, more than the corruption…more than the DAPI forces closing in.
Remember, I told myself desperately. Remember being human. Remember Ben. Remember why you’re doing this.
But the memories were slipping away, burning in phoenix fire, becoming ash that re-formed into something else. Something partially creature, partially woman, fully neither.
Through the haze of pain, I heard Rosenthal’s voice. Cold. Professional.
Victorious.
“Ms. Lowell. I must say, this is even better than I’d hoped. Witnessing the merge firsthand will provide invaluable data.”
Ben responded at once, his voice sharp with fear and warning. “Stay back. She’s vulnerable right now. If you disrupt the ritual, it could kill her.”
“I’m aware of that. Which is why we’re simply going to observe and record every detail of the process.
” A pause, and I could hear the smile in Rosenthal’s voice even through my fragmented awareness.
“Although I am curious whether she’ll still be Ms. Lowell when she separates, or whether she’ll be something else entirely. ”
It was the same question I’d been asking myself ever since the phoenix showed me the full ritual.
I didn’t know the answer. I couldn’t know. I could only keep burning corruption and hope I held on to enough humanity to matter.
Eighty-seven percent. Eighty-six.
Ben’s electromagnetic signature pulsed nearby, and through our bond, I felt his fear, his determination, his absolute refusal to let Rosenthal take me. He was planning something, some way to protect me even though he was surrounded by thirty armed agents.
Don’t, I tried to send to him. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.
But I wasn’t sure he could hear me anymore. My consciousness was too deep in the merge, too fragmented between Sidney and phoenix. The part of me that could communicate with Ben was dissolving, replaced by fire-consciousness that only understood patterns and reformation.
More corruption burned away. Eighty-five percent. Eighty-four.
I was getting closer to the creature’s heart, where the last clean fire remained. If I could reach it, if I could hold that pattern while burning away everything else, we might survive this. Might re-form with our identities somewhat intact.
Distantly, I heard an unfamiliar voice. “Dr. Hargrove confirms the artificial portal is destabilizing. Containment failure imminent.”
“How long?” Rosenthal asked, her tone sharpening.
“Minutes. Maybe less.”
Good. The diversion was working, even if it hadn’t pulled enough forces away to matter. When Eric Hargrove destroyed the artificial portal, the stolen phoenix essence would return to the natural system through me, through the merge.
That influx of energy would accelerate the final phase and make the pain worse. But it would also help burn away the remaining corruption faster.
I just had to survive long enough to benefit from it.
Eighty-three percent. Eighty-two.
My awareness was splitting now. Part of me was still Sidney, still human, still desperately holding on to her identity. Part of me was the phoenix, the fire-creature, ancient and inhuman and beautiful. The two parts were merging, becoming one consciousness that was both and neither.
The part of me that was still Sidney screamed in terror.
The part of me that was phoenix sang in joy.
And somewhere between those two extremes, something new was forming. Something that might survive separation.
Or might not.
I felt Ben’s electromagnetic signature spike with sudden decision. He was moving, putting himself between me and Rosenthal’s forces.
No, I tried to say. Stay safe.
But the words came out as fire, as patterns of heat that only the phoenix understood. I was losing language. Losing the ability to communicate in human ways.
Losing Sidney.
Eighty-one percent. Eighty. Seventy-nine.
The corruption was burning faster now, my merged consciousness learning how to target the shadow veins more efficiently. But the cost for each percentage point kept increasing. More humanity lost. More phoenix gained. More of something new that was neither.
I needed to slow down, needed to give myself time to hold on to my identity.
But the phoenix wouldn’t let me. It was dying, corruption eating through its heart, and it needed the cleansing to happen now, or it would fail completely.
Together, it sent through our merged awareness. Die and be reborn together. Only way.
So I kept burning, kept consuming myself in dimensional fire. Kept hoping that when I finally separated — if I separated — there would be enough of Sidney Lowell left to matter.
Because right now, with my consciousness more phoenix than human, with my memories fading and my identity fragmenting, I honestly didn’t know if I’d survive this as myself.