Chapter 1642: Story 1642: The Third Pulse
The silence after command was heavy—thick with the weight of obedience and fear.
Zara stood in the midst of a still world, every bone-creature frozen mid-breath, their hollow eyes locked upon her as if awaiting permission to exist. The air was quiet, yet underneath it, the world hummed with a growing unease.
The second heart inside her had steadied—but beneath it, another rhythm began to whisper.
Faint. Distant. Deep.
The T-Rex shifted uneasily, sniffing the ground. Its scales glistened with ash and sweat. The raptors kept low, confused between instinct and reverence. Even the winds that once howled across the scarred plains now trembled in hesitation.
“It’s coming,” Zara murmured.
The soil beneath her boots pulsed, once... twice. Each beat stronger than the last, as though something ancient was drawing its first breaths after eons of silence.
A low hum filled the air—a sound that didn’t come from the earth but from within it, vibrating through marrow and metal, resonating with the second heart in Zara’s chest. Her pulse faltered in answer, syncing for a heartbeat—then violently recoiling.
“It’s not me,” she gasped, clutching her chest. “It’s... older.”
The skeletal beasts around her began to crumble, unable to withstand the vibration. Their molten sinews cracked; their bones shattered like glass. From the fractures, red mist rose—thick, coiling, whispering in voices long forgotten.
We remember the first world, the mist sighed. And the first death.
The horizon darkened—not with storm, but with memory. The world around her blurred, time folding inward like a wound reopening. Through the haze, Zara saw flashes—an age before her, before the zombies, before the dinosaurs’ rebirth. Titans of flame and shadow walked then, shaping life and ending it, their hearts beating in perfect symmetry. Until one betrayed the other, splitting creation itself.
That was the first pulse.
Zara now carried the second.
And what stirred below was the third—the one that destroyed both.
The ground split open once more. From its depths rose a heart, vast and translucent, encased in crystal and magma. It beat once, shaking the air. Each contraction sent tremors racing through the world, toppling mountains in the far distance. The skeletal beasts that had obeyed Zara’s rhythm now turned toward it, compelled by something greater—an instinct older than loyalty.
The T-Rex roared, trying to challenge it, but even that sound broke under the weight of the pulse. The heart didn’t speak in words. It spoke in force.
Zara dropped to her knees, blood trickling from her nose as her body strained under the resonance. The second heart inside her pulsed in pain, struggling to hold its rhythm.
“You can’t have it,” she hissed, defying the tremor. “You’re not the world’s heart anymore.”
The crystal heart below responded—not with anger, but curiosity. The pulse softened, matching hers, almost tender. Then, with each beat, it began pulling—siphoning energy from her second heart.
Zara screamed, her glow flickering. The T-Rex lunged forward, clawing at the fissure to block the surge. Flames burst upward, wrapping them both in a circle of molten light.
Then—the pulse stopped.
For a single, horrifying moment, everything went silent.
No heartbeats. No wind. No sound.
And from the stillness rose a whisper, neither male nor female, echoing across every particle of air—
“The third pulse is awake.”
The world exhaled.
And the age of remembrance ended.
Now began the era of restoration—or ruin.