Thread by @CarliFrueh

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“The Final Construct” by @CarliFrueh - DM to grab your copy!

Dive into the quantum maelstrom of "The Final Construct" – Book 4 in the Anomaly in the Construct series! Starseeds battle parasitic overlords in a prison planet showdown. Unmask illusions, shatter veils, & claim your divinity. Out now! Excerpt 👇🏽

Chapter 12📖
Harmonies Beyond the Fracture

“The ward's sterile hum lingered like a half-forgotten curse after the therapy circle dissolved, but the ancestors' echoes clung to me, weaving through the modern souls I'd met that sweltering summer of 2029 at Spring Mountain. They were anomalies in flesh, each a fractured mirror of the rebellion's fire—patients labeled mad by a world blind to the spiritual realms. I wandered the halls, my sapphire defiance simmering, as their stories unraveled like threads, pulling me deeper into the labyrinth where time space and space time collided. But as the day waned, another bleed surged—not from dusty 1933, but from ethereal spiritual realms, a dimension where success bloomed like eternal starlight, and every soul I'd touched shone triumphant, free from the Core's hungry pulse.

Dr. StrangeLay, the ward's weary overseer, had been my first anchor in that chaotic arrival. Her crisp demeanor hid a spirit scarred by years of battling invisible demons, her hands steady as she prescribed pills that dulled the forty-two's roar. "You're not broken, Carli88," she'd said during a daily session , her voice a calm anchor amid the storm playing havoc on my mind. "You're just... perceiving more." Little did she know her lineage traced back to Elara Voss's resilient weave— a modern guardian of secrets, fighting insurance battles and bureaucratic webs with the same poise that once dealt cards in '33's shadows. In our off the clock sessions Dr. StrangeLay confessed her own glimpses: glitches in patient charts, whispers of a greater design. Her quiet rebellion fueled my own, a subtle shield against the ward's hardening constraints.

Then there was Marcus Hale, the burly veteran in room 212, his frame etched with tattoos that hummed like Harlan Thorne's protective energy. He'd lost limbs to wars that felt like simulations, his grief a dam bursting in group shares. "Built walls from the wreckage," he'd grunt, echoing his ancestor's words, as he sketched blueprints for impossible machines—devices to harness the ozone-thick air that only we sensed. His laughter boomed like thunder, a white-hot surge that bent the rec room's edges, clashing hope with the loss of comrades long gone. Mira's descendant, young Lila Bri, flitted through the halls like a feline shadow, her sketches pulsing with violet sparks. At nineteen, she defied the monotony with riddles: "Schrödinger's pill—sane or awakened? Flip the dose." Her presence rippled the linoleum, a subtle rebellion that made nurses glance twice, tying her to the labyrinth's protective magic.

Ms. Imari sang in the outside nature area’s fading light, her crimson aura flickering paradoxically as the notes of "His Eye Is on the Sparrow" wove through the desert air like a silver thread defying all those that seek to end us. "Why should I feel discouraged," she intoned, her voice a lifeline pulsing with the forty-two frequency, pulling shadows into harmony and igniting sparks in the unseen realms. Each lyric bloomed as a subtle rebellion, her hands gesturing sigils that rippled the ground, shielding souls from the Core's dirge while paradoxes bound freedom to the stars' promise. In that moment, the ward's constraints softened, a bleed from a higher realms whispering unity, her song a hymn to incubate awareness, oscillate the mind, and illuminate the truth that even in chains, the sparrow's flight was ours to claim.

Paul Voss, the scowling bootlegger of words in group, hid his blade-sharp guilt behind crossword puzzles, fleeing shadows that darted across dimensions. Christina clutched her journal like a lifeline, chronicling anomalies in the daily news—glitches in headlines, awakenings in the mundane. And young Jessi Kane, glowed with a quantum relic disguised as a pendant, reciting the protocol under her breath: "Incubate, Oscillate, Cultivate, Integrate, Illuminate." Her entanglement pulled us all closer, bridging desperation to awakening.

As evening fell, the bleed came unbidden, the ward's vents hissing with a golden mist from spiritual realms beyond the Fracture—a dimension where harmony reigned, untethered from tyranny. The air shimmered, realities fusing in a gentle cascade, and I glimpsed them all, transformed and triumphant. There was Dr. StrangeLay, not a harried doctor, but a luminous healer in ethereal gardens, her poise weaving wellness across souls, cold chains dissolved into threads of pure light. Marcus stood tall on unscarred limbs, a master builder crafting shields of starfire, his energy surging in joyous creation, kin reclaimed from the dam's maw. Mayla danced as a quantum artist, her violet sparks birthing worlds where depression bowed to awakening, coins flipping eternally to fortune.

Imari's songs echoed in celestial choirs, paradoxes resolved into symphonies of freedom, her crimson aura a beacon for wandering stars. Paul shed his guilt like old skin, a sage of dimensions, his words turned to bridges spanning citadels of peace. Christina's journal bloomed into tomes of awakened history, her sorrows a triumphant anthem, rails carrying anomalies to enlightenment. And Jessi, relic blazing, orchestrated the protocol as a universal rite, her entanglement a web of unity where Alaska's lights touched every heart. In this realm, Arachne's shadows were mere illusions, harvested into compost for blooming souls—everyone happy, successful, architects of a Core pulsing with unbridled love. My sapphire wildfire met this vision, clashing not in war, but in resonance, the forty-two roaring like a chorus of supernovae. "We are the harmony," I whispered, the bleed faltering as shadows retreated, leaving whispers of possibility: "Choose all." The ward's heart steadied, waiting—would these veiled harmonies forge our escape, or bind us to eternal wonder?”
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