His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 271

Chapter 271

Claire’s POV

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The violet light wasn’t just a color; it was a weight. It felt like standing at the bottom of a very deep, very cold ocean while someone slowly drained the air out of my lungs.

Every time the floor of the glass cylinder pulsed, I felt a tugging sensation in the center of my chest, right where the Anchor’s spark lived.

It was a rhythmic, agonizing hollow out-thump-pull, thump-pull.

SS bpm. My heart rate was dropping, and not in a “yay, I’m relaxed” kind of way. It was losing momentum, like someone was actively pulling the life out of me.

Proctor Vane had finally left the room, leaving the two hazmat-suited scientists to monitor the consoles.

The lab was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the dampening fields and the occasional skritch-skritch of a stylus on a digital pad. They thought I was sedated enough to be a vegetable. They thought the glass was an absolute barrier.

They were wrong.

I pressed my forehead against the cold surface, closing my eyes. I needed to focus, but the “static” Vane had mentioned was everywhere.

It was like trying to think while a radio was blaring white noise directly into my brain.

Find the gap, Claire, I told myself. Everything has a frequency. Even this cage.

I reached out with my mind, not trying to pull energy from the outside this time-I knew that was a dead end. Instead, I looked inward.

I looked for the tiny, jagged piece of the Reaper’s void that had snagged on my soul during the fight at the Manor. It was a cold, dead spot, a little knot of “nothing” that the Citadel’s sensors hadn’t been able to scrub away.

If the glass was designed to eat light, maybe it wouldn’t know what to do with the dark.

I focused on that cold spot, feeding it my frustration, my fear, and the memory of the black-gloved hand over my mouth.

The knot grew, spreading like an ink stain through my veins. It hurt though-a sharp, biting cold that made my breath hitch -but it was working.

The violet light of the extraction floor didn’t seem to know how to “grab” the shadow. The tugging in my chest eased. 92 bpm. Better.

I opened my eyes. One of the scientists was walking toward the cylinder, a data-slate in his hand. He looked bored, his movements robotic.

“Extraction rate is dipping,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the mask. “Subject Ol is exhibiting anomalous resistance. Adjust the gain on the primary siphon.”

“Wait,” the other scientist called out from the console. “Look at the thermal read. Her core temperature is dropping too fast. If we spike the gain now, we’ll trigger a cardiac arrest.”

“The Proctor said ten percent by morning,” the first one snapped. “If she dies at nine percent, it’s still a win. Just do it.”

WED

12:08 Wed, Feb 4 G

Chapter 271

I felt the floor vibrate with a new, aggressive energy. The violet light shifted to a harsh, angry crimson.

The pull came back, ten times stronger than before. It felt like my ribs were being forced open from the inside.

I didn’t fight the pull. I leaned into it.

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I took that “ink stain” of shadow and pushed it toward the sensor probe they’d left embedded in the base of the cylinder.

I didn’t try to break the glass; I tried to infect the machine. I poured the cold, empty “nothing” into the silver needles, imagining it flowing like poison through the Citadel’s nervous system.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, a tiny spark of black electricity jumped from the probe to the floorboards.

Pop.

The crimson light flickered. A smell of ozone and melting plastic filled the cylinder.

“What was that?” the scientist at the console shouted. “We have a feedback surge! Sector four is red-lining!”

“Shut it down! Redirect the load to the secondary buffer!”

I didn’t stop. I pushed harder, my vision blurring.

I wasn’t just sending shadow anymore; I was sending my own heartbeat. I synced the “nothing” to the rhythm of the

extraction.

Thump-glitch. Thump-glitch.

The consoles across the room started to scream-a high-pitched, digital wail that made the scientists scramble.

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