The silence from Sector 7 was a suffocating weight. Captain's decision to send the reconnaissance team, guided by Kael's uncertain sensing, hung heavy in the air of the sanctuary. Every hour that passed without contact chipped away at the dwindling hope of the survivors. Gus's quiet resentment had blossomed into open, accusatory glares directed at Captain and, more intensely, at Kael.
Kael himself felt the weight of it all. He sat by the fire pit, Elara a constant, reassuring presence beside him. His attempts to sense the team had become more frantic, more desperate. He pushed with Vispera, trying to pierce the oppressive grey silence that surrounded them, searching for that faint thread of the team's presence.
He could feel the general, overwhelming presence of The Void, its low thrumming a constant reminder of its dominance. But the specific, distant flicker that represented the team was harder and harder to find. It was like trying to see a single star disappear behind an approaching storm front.
Elara watched him, her heart aching. She saw the strain on his small face, the way he flinched internally even when his numb body showed no outward sign of physical pain. The Bedel was always there, a shadow lurking at the edges of his attempts.
"It's okay, Kael," she would murmur, her voice gentle. "You're trying your best. We know it's difficult."
But Kael felt the pressure. He saw the grim looks on Captain's face, the fear in the eyes of the other survivors, Gus's hostile glare. He knew, in the fragmented way his mind processed information, that the team was gone, and somehow, it was connected to his power, to his sensing. He felt a responsibility he didn't understand, a burden tied to the price Vispera's light demanded.
Captain approached them, his footsteps heavy. His face was set, a mask of weary resolve. "Any change, Elara?" he asked, his voice low.
Elara shook her head, her expression mirroring his weariness. "He can still feel... The Void. The thrumming. But the team... the thread is very faint now. Almost gone."
Kael flinched again, a wave of disorientation washing over him. The Bedel – a sudden, terrifying blankness where the concept of 'outside' should be. He looked at the sealed walls of the sanctuary, but his mind struggled to grasp that there was anything beyond them.
"Outside... gone?" he rasped, confusion clouding his eyes.
Elara immediately put a hand on his arm (a touch he felt through Vispera's presence). "No, Kael, outside is still there. The grey is still there. The sanctuary is here, inside." She patiently repeated the concept, drawing it in the dust, using simple words until the blankness receded, leaving behind the familiar, dull ache of the void.
Captain watched the Bedel's effect, his jaw tightening. Each attempt, even just sensing, came at a price. Was the intelligence gained worth this slow erosion of the child's mind?
Suddenly, a different feeling from Kael. Vispera's warmth flared with a sharp, cold pulse – "EMPTY! TOOK!" Followed by a profound, heartbreaking sadness that radiated from Vispera, and through Kael. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a finality.
Kael gasped, a sob catching in his throat. He pointed towards Sector 7 on the map, his hand trembling. "Gone... Empty... Took..."
Captain and Elara looked at each other, the grim certainty they had both feared settling heavily upon them. The team was gone. Whatever was watching, whatever had "Taken" the patrol, had now taken the reconnaissance team as well. Kael's sensing, perhaps in its last effort, had confirmed their fate.
The chapter ends with the confirmation of the reconnaissance team's fate through Kael's sensing, the emotional toll on Kael and Elara, Captain's grim acceptance, and Gus's fear and blame reaching a new peak, solidifying the loss and escalating internal tensions based on Kael's perceived connection to the disaster.