The command center was a relic of a forgotten age, a vault of dead air and pressurized silence. Outside, Nether’s toxic tides battered everything, but inside, the atmosphere was crisp and tasted of ozone, untouched by time.
At the heart of the chamber sat the throne, a jagged silhouette of dark, non-reflective metal that seemed to gleam with an otherworldly light.
Thalyn Ka’el’s knuckles were white where they gripped the armrests. Her chest heaved as the throne eased her back to an upright position. Her green eyes flicked around the chamber like a cornered animal.
Dr. Elara Voss was there in a heartbeat, her velvet-blue skin shimmering under the emergency lights. She placed a cool hand on Thalyn’s temple. “Thalyn? Breathe. Your heart rate is red-lining.”
“I...” Thalyn blinked, her eyes darting toward the shadows. “Oh, I’m back!”
Commander Jaxon Hurst stepped into her line of sight, his voice controlled like a hammer ready to fall. “Next time you decide to interface with Elder tech, you ask me first. Understood?”
Thalyn’s jaw tightened. “I didn't decide, commander. It called. One minute I’m checking the crown, the next, it’s on my head and I’m... someone else.”
“Memory transference!” Korr Draven muttered. The gaunt tech-savant looked up from a nearby console, his fingers touching the glyphs no one had touched in aeons. “That’s incredible. What was it like? What happened?”
Thalyn opened her mouth then closed it. There were no clean words for what had just happened.
“It felt too real,” She whispered, rubbing her arms. “The pain, the acrid taste of the air... and the voice. Sarcastic. Like a roommate in my head with boundary issues. It was happening to me!”
“Inheritance of lives,” Korr whispered, his eyes wide and unstable. “The Elders didn't just record history, they preserved it.”
“She looks like she inherited a migraine,” Jaxon grunted. His gaze went to the corner where the sentinel droid stood behind the sealed door. It remained a statuesque nightmare, its coal-green optics pulsing through the viewport with a slow, rhythmic light.
It hadn't moved since they’d first staggered bleeding through that very threshold. When the guardian’s roar still echoed in their bones.
“We’re salvaging, not ghost-hunting. We find the exit and we leave.”
Thalyn’s gaze drifted back to the throne gleaming darkly in the low light. Something tightened in her chest. Walking away felt like leaving something unfinished.
“Whatever it is,” she said, “it’s not finished with me.”
Jaxon turned, his gaze heavy. “Nira is dead because we didn't know what to expect. If we stay here, we’re bait in a trap. You want to gamble your brain on an ancient diary?”
Thalyn looked at the throne again. “I need to.” Her voice was firmer now. “If this place has answers, that’s where they are.”
Korr’s eyes sparked. “She’s right. If that throne’s the key, we can’t leave the door locked.”
Jaxon paused, two fingers rubbing his cybernetic arm. Then he looked at Elara. “Vitals?”
“Stable. But the neural load’s high,” the doctor said. “If she stays under too long, we risk synaptic scarring.”
“Go in,” Jaxon said, his voice like grinding stone. “But if you start slipping, we pull you out. No arguments.”
Thalyn didn't argue. She leaned back, the dark crown lowering onto her brow like a cold heavy hand. As the throne reclined, the hum of the chamber rose through the floor, vibrating in her teeth.
Her eyes rolled back. Darkness rushed up to meet her.
And there, in the void, the murmur began again, the sound of a life that wasn't hers, whispering like dead leaves in dry wind, drawing her deeper into the darkness.610Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHqu0vwGwZX
and then Add to home screen.