Crimson Bloom: Ascend

Chapter 16: Glitch in the Vein

Aria and Selene left the gallery at exactly 8:17 AM.

Not because she meant to. Not because she remembered having somewhere to be. But because her body just… did it. Like it had muscle memory for a life she didn't remember living.

Selene followed two steps behind, silent and watchful.

"Are you sure about this?" Selene asked, voice low.

"I don't know," Aria admitted.

The street outside was dead quiet. Not peaceful — vacant. Like something had pressed pause on the world and forgot to press play again.

Aria's boots echoed too loud against the concrete. The sound bounced between buildings and came back wrong — like it had been edited midair. Selene's boots made no sound at all.

The strap of Aria's book bag cut into her shoulder. It was heavier than it should've been. Her fingers clenched it like a lifeline. Her breath fogged in the air, even though the morning wasn't cold.

Selene watched her closely. She hadn't said much since sunrise, just kept adjusting her coat like she didn't want Aria seeing her hands shake.

"Something's off," Aria said, half to herself.

Selene didn't deny it.

The sky looked sick. Rust - orange, streaked with bruised red. The air smelled metallic, like copper and ozone. Like blood before lightning.

A sparrow lay on the sidewalk, wings outstretched, frozen mid - flight. Its eyes were glassy. Its chest didn't rise or fall. But its wings kept fluttering every few seconds — like a broken video buffering.

Selene nudged it gently with the toe of her boot. The wings fluttered once more, then stopped.

"Glitched," she murmured. "Just like the others."

Aria crouched beside the bird, frowning. "What does that mean? Why is it doing that?"

Selene hesitated, her gaze scanning the horizon like she was looking for something she didn't want to find. "You're not ready for all of it yet."

Aria's eyes narrowed. "Then give me part of it. Stop treating me like I'm asleep."

Selene exhaled through her nose, sharp. "Fine. You're not hallucinating. These aren't tricks. The seams between what's real and what was real are tearing. The glitches happen when the universe tries to correct itself… and fails."

"Fails?" Aria echoed. "You mean like a simulation?"

Selene shook her head. "No. Worse. It's like someone pressed repeat on a dying world. Forced memories trying to play over the present. But they weren't meant to overlap."

Aria blinked. "That's why some things feel familiar but off? Like déjà vu but too sharp?"

Selene nodded. "Exactly. The timeline isn't linear anymore. It bent. Twisted. Reformed."

"Because of me?" Aria asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Selene paused. "Because of what you are. You're not just waking up — you're rewriting. The glitches are part of it. You're breaking through someone else's rules."

Aria stood, her chest tight. "Someone like… a god?"

Selene's voice dropped. "Someone like Athena."

Aria flinched. "Wait. Athena? She molded me. She — she loved me."

"She still does," Selene said. "In her own twisted, divine way. But she's breaking the chains now. Once she fully unbinds herself, not even Zeus can stop her. And that's the problem. She's not just rewriting time — she's using you to do it."

Aria felt like the sidewalk tilted beneath her.

"The glitches happen to you," Selene continued softly. "Because you're not from here. Or — this version of you isn't. I thought time reset, but I was wrong. This isn't just a second chance. It's a different world. Same faces. Same names. But different choices. Different memories."

Aria's voice cracked. "Then who am I?"

"You're still Aria," Selene said, firm. "Daughter of Aphrodite. Daughter of Vaethea. Molded by Athena. You're divine and cursed, heat and hunger. And you haven't even begun to understand what that means."

Aria stepped back, dazed. "I'm not ready."

Selene stepped forward. "You don't need to be. Because even if you're different — no matter what version of you this is — I still want you. All of you. You'll always be mine."

Aria looked up at her, cheeks flushing despite everything. "Selene…"

Selene smirked. "Stop looking at me like that. I might actually fall harder."

Aria gave her a look — half defiant, half overwhelmed — but the blush didn't fade. "You're so annoying."

"And you're dangerous," Selene murmured, brushing a finger down Aria's cheek. "But you're not alone. Not anymore."

A crossing light blinked between red and green without stopping. A neon OPEN sign in a coffee shop window flickered so fast it blurred into white. Aria stepped closer to Selene without meaning to.

Then she saw him.

The man on the corner.

Wearing a suit that looked like it had been dragged out of an old photograph. Creased, sun - faded, one sleeve too long. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. His pupils looked hand - drawn.

Selene went still.

"What is he?" Aria whispered.

"Residual," Selene muttered. "A warning. Maybe a watcher."

As they passed, the man whispered, lips barely parting:

"Not yours. Not yours. Not yours."

Each repetition hit sharper than the last.

Aria kept walking. She didn't look back. Selene didn't either.

Campus loomed ahead. Familiar in outline. Not in feel.

The bricks were slightly off - color. The ivy too green. The statues had no names. The wind didn't move anything. Students walked with jerky, lagged movements. A girl blinked five seconds too late. A boy smiled like someone had written the expression onto his face.

"Selene…" Aria said, eyes scanning the quad. "I don't like this."

"I know."

"Why does it feel like everything's… rendered from memory?"

Selene didn't answer.

Inside the humanities building, the fluorescent lights buzzed too loud. The air smelled like old toner and burning plastic. Room 2B.

Aria hesitated at the door.

Selene touched her shoulder. "I'm with you."

They walked in together.

The classroom was worse.

Desks half - filled. Students unmoving. One girl mouthed words that didn't match any sound. A boy's pencil bent with each tap, like it was made of rubber. The professor's movements jerked like a glitching animation.

Outside the window, the man in the suit was still there.

Still watching.

Only now, he was smiling.

Selene's body tensed.

"Back corner," she whispered. "Out of line of sight."

They sat down. Aria opened her notebook.

The page had a sentence written in her own handwriting:

I am not supposed to be here.

Aria's breath caught. "I didn't write this."

"No," Selene said. "But you did. Before."

Aria stared at her. "What does that mean?"

But she didn't get an answer.

Because at exactly 10:03 AM, the girl in the front row dropped her pen. Bent down. Sat up.

And screamed.

Her body twisted. Her veins went black like ink. Her mouth opened too wide. The scream didn't belong in the room — it tore it open.

Chaos followed like a reflex.

The girl lunged at a nearby student. Blood splattered the front row. Someone climbed out the window. Someone else texted furiously until their phone cracked in their hands and started to smoke.

One boy just curled into a ball and whispered, "Wake up, wake up, wake up."

Selene stood instantly, blocking Aria with her body.

"Move," she said. "Now."

They bolted for the door.

Behind them, the professor began convulsing. Desks flew. The girl's jaw cracked open wider than it should've. And reality bent.

Literally.

The hallway outside warped like heat waves, walls shimmering like water. A janitor mopped the floor, but there was no floor beneath the mop.

Aria's lungs burned. Selene gripped her wrist.

The world twisted.

The sky outside wasn't sky anymore.

A seam had opened — blood - red and glowing — across the horizon. Like something was tearing through.

Aria stopped in the street, chest heaving.

Selene grabbed her, yanked her behind a chain - link fence by the old theater. They hit the ground hard.

Aria's vision blurred.

The world felt like a dream unraveling. People screamed, but some didn't make sound. Cars moved without drivers. A woman screamed lullabies backward. A child floated three inches above the ground.

And the sky —

The sky pulsed.

Aria looked up and felt her stomach drop.

Not because she was scared.

Because she recognized it.

The split. The pulsing light. The pressure behind it. The thing that waited on the other side.

It didn't have a name.

But it knew hers.

Selene was breathing hard beside her, one hand over Aria's back.

"It's happening," she said.

Aria couldn't speak. She was trembling, not from fear, but from recognition.

"I've seen this," she whispered. "Not here. Somewhere else."

"Before," Selene said. "Yes."

Aria pressed her palm against the ground. "I think I died."

"You did."

"And now I'm not supposed to be here."

"No," Selene said softly. "You're exactly where you're meant to be."

The wind picked up. The world shook.

Somewhere, a siren wailed — but it didn't sound human. It sounded like the world warning itself.

"I'm remembering," Aria whispered.

"I know."

Selene knelt in front of her and cupped her cheek gently. "You're not broken."

"Then what am I?"

Selene's voice was barely audible. "You're the glitch in their system."

The seam in the sky pulsed again.

And somewhere in the city, things began waking up.

Aria's body hurt. Her mind buzzed. But she didn't feel scared anymore.

She felt ready.

Her heart beat once.

Twice.

Harder.

Louder.

Something ancient stirred behind her ribs. Like a word forming that didn't belong to any language.

Selene kissed her forehead.

"It's starting," she said.

Aria nodded, slowly. "Let it."

And behind them, the world cracked open.