Thalyn woke with a jolt, breath catching in her throat. The chamber lay around her, quiet as a grave, the low hum of the ancient machines like whispers in the dark.
She closed her eyes, but the images clawed back, smoke on her tongue, the sharp scream of metal, the cold bite of betrayal, the fire searing through her legs. Nira's face, furious in the dark, her voice cutting through the chaos, dragging Thalyn from the wreckage as the world spun in agony. The dream faded, but the pain in her heart and legs remained.
She sat up, breath ragged, and ran a trembling hand over her face. The others lay in sleep, shadows against the vastness of the old stone.
Jaxon sat like a sentinel. Eyes like cold steel, one hand resting on the grip of his blade, the other grinding slow rotations into the metal of his cybernetic arm, a faint sheen of sweat catching the low light across his brow.
“What’s eatin’ at you, Thalyn?” His voice was rough, a low rumble, but there was a softness beneath, a fracture in the stone.
She turned, met his gaze. “Nira,” she said. “We left her down there. Under the rubble. I need to find her. I want to bury her.”
Jaxon’s brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing. “And if you can’t?”
“I have to try. I’ll be careful,” she said, steady now.
He nodded slowly, eyes studying her. “I don’t like it,” he said. “But I get it.”
She geared up. Each motion sure, efficient. She pulled the breather mask tight, felt the cool touch against her skin, the filters purring in her ears. At the reinforced door, her hand met cold metal. It hissed open, groaning loud in the stillness.
In the passage, the air was clean, but she kept the mask on. It was dark, walls lined with glass panels etched in alien glyphs that seemed to writhe and shift when she wasn't looking.
Beyond the viewports, Nether stretched out like a dark ocean, eerie in twilight. Shadows moved. Trees twisted upward like claws. Their roots tangled in the dreadful fog.
The corridor curved sharply, opening onto a wide observation deck. Thalyn stopped cold.
A massive viewport of reinforced, glass slanted outward, offering a sprawling view of the lower levels. And there it was, the collapsed chamber where they had fought the guardian. The site of the breach. Where Nira had fallen.
Thalyn pressed her gloved hands against the cold glass. The chamber was completely buried under jagged slabs of rock and fused metal. But it wasn't dead. Swarms of Little drones, multi-limbed things of glowing light and dark metal, crawled over the debris. They were cutting, welding, and sealing the collapse with bright flashes of localized energy.
She found an access console near the door and slammed her palm against the strange glyphs, desperate for a path down. The panel flashed a harsh, angry crimson. A heavy physical bulkhead had already slammed down over the lower access doors, fusing them shut. She struck the panel again, her breath fogging the breather, but the facility was a closed fist.
As the bitter reality settled in, a strange resonance vibrated in her chest. It wasn't a sound, but a feeling, a phantom tether pulling her down into the deeper dark of the facility. It felt like gravity tilting, demanding she follow.
She turned from the door, letting the pull guide her. It led her past jammed blast doors, forcing her to pass over pools of murky liquid on a narrow catwalk, until she dropped into a long hall.
The air here was thick with a strange energy that prickled her skin. She tried the doors, one after another. All refused her except the last. It hissed open to a small, dark chamber, cold light leaking from the walls.
She entered, eyes adjusting to the gloom. At its center stood a throne, smaller than the other, wrapped in cables like petrified roots. A crown rested before it.
Two droids stood in the shadow, shapes cut from the same mold as the sentinel observing them, but leaner, less worn. She watched them, hand hovering near her sidearm. They didn’t move.
With careful steps, she approached the throne. As her hand reached toward the crown, one droid stepped forward.
“At your command, mistress.”
She flinched, a jolt in her chest. “Why aren’t you hostile?” she asked, voice sharp. “The guardian attacked us.”
The droid tilted its head. “Apologies, mistress. The… guardian did not recognize you among the others.”
“Why am I different?”
“You bear the mark.”
“What mark?”
“The mark we must obey.” It offered nothing more.
Thalyn pointed back the way she came. “The chamber where my friend is buried. I need access.”
The droid’s optics pulsed a steady blue. “It is inaccessible, mistress. The collapse triggered a primary lockdown protocol. The automated reconstruction sequences are currently active.”
“Can it be overridden?” Thalyn asked. “I just need a few moments.”
“Not possible,” the droid replied, its tone devoid of empathy.
Thalyn’s jaw tightened. She stared at the unblinking machine, the awful permanence of its words sinking in. There was no rescue. Nira was sealed in a tomb of active energy and shifting stone. She swallowed the hard knot in her throat and turned back to the throne.
The droid raised a hand. “It would be wise to return to central command and complete the sequence before attempting this station.”
A pause. “A request, before you proceed.”
“Yes?”
“The artifact you retrieved from the cave. Bring it to me. You are not yet ready to wield it.”
She frowned. “What is it?”
The droid’s eyes flickered. “You’ll understand when you are ready.”
She exhaled, nodded once. “I’ll bring it.”
The droid inclined its head, not mechanical, more ritual, like a monk in metal skin.
She stepped back and left the chamber, following the path back. The others stirred when she returned, their eyes tracking her as the door hissed shut.
“What did you find?” Jaxon asked.
She pulled off her mask. She told them about the impenetrable lockdown sealing Nira’s resting place, the side throne, the droids, and the mark.
Korr’s expression shifted. Fingers twitching, already rearranging the puzzle in his head.
“Why you?” Elara asked, violet eyes searching Thalyn’s face. “Why are you chosen?”
Thalyn shrugged. The question hung in the air like smoke. Then her gaze dropped to the sphere, still nestled in the console near Korr's pack.
“They asked for this,” she said, stepping toward it.
Korr’s hand shot out, snatching the sphere off the console and pulling it to his chest. “Who did?”
“The droid. Said it’s dangerous. Too advanced.”
“Too advanced?” Korr's voice cracked. “That's insane, Thalyn, do you understand what that means? I haven't even run a full sequence yet. You can't just… it belongs here, with us, where someone can actually…” He stopped, breath short, grip tightening on the sphere. “It needs to be studied. I need to study it.”
“You don’t know if it’s safe, Korr. Give it here.”
Korr backed away. “At least let me run another scan. Just for a little while.”
“No.” Thalyn said, her voice hard. “If this thing fires the wrong way, it’s not just your paranoia that gets fried.”
Korr bared his teeth, clutching the sphere tighter. “I need the data. I…”
“Hand it over, Korr,” Jaxon rumbled, his voice low and absolute.
Korr froze. He glanced at Jaxon, and glared back to Thalyn, but the fight drained from his shoulders, and shoved the sphere into Thalyn's hands. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Probably,” she said, brushing past. “But we’ve only got time for one.”
She crossed to the entry. The chamber door opened with a sigh, and the droid stood just behind it, waiting in the gloom like it had always been there.
She held out the sphere.
Its hand unfolded like blooming metal petals. The sphere hovered above its palm, then sank into a socket with a hiss, as if inhaled.
Glyphs crawled up its arm like quicksilver. It bowed and vanished into the passage.
She turned back. The throne loomed, quiet and waiting. She felt its cold embrace as she sat, her fingers brushing the crown. She set it on her head, and the chamber faded.
A whisper teased the edge of her mind: “Want your old legs back? Properly augmented?”
And then she was gone, slipping into another life, the chill of a cell seeping into her bones.506Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHTPEbHvAXy
and then Add to home screen.