The whisper still echoed in Kaelen's skull.
You are not the first.
He staggered back from the console, his pulse hammering, the glow of the data crystal searing against his palm. Lyra's jaw was tight, her hand hovering near the blaster holstered at her hip—a useless gesture against whatever force surrounded them.
The alien corridor outside the ship pulsed faintly, like veins carrying light instead of blood. Then, with a jolt, the ship's systems flickered back to life. Displays lit up, but not with human code—lines of alien symbols cascaded across the screens, rewriting, reprogramming, invading.
Kaelen leaned forward, eyes wide. "It's integrating us into the station. Reading everything we have."
Lyra slammed her fist on the console. "No one reads my ship without asking first." She grabbed the throttle and yanked, but the controls were unresponsive. The vessel glided deeper into the construct as though cradled by unseen hands.
Then the presence returned. It wasn't a voice this time—it was a feeling. Cold, infinite, pressing against Kaelen's mind. For a moment, he thought he saw flashes—ships burning, stars collapsing, faces screaming in silence.
Lyra's hand shot out, gripping his shoulder. Her eyes were hard, steady. "Stay with me, Doctor."
The vision snapped away. Kaelen sucked in a ragged breath. "It's showing me… memories. But not mine."
The ship slowed, settling into a vast chamber. Through the viewport, they saw a cavern so large it could have swallowed cities whole. Pillars of obsidian rose into the dark, etched with glowing glyphs. Suspended at the chamber's heart was a sphere—perfect, black, and yet reflecting every star Kaelen had ever known.
The crystal in his hand pulsed faster, syncing with the sphere. His skin prickled. He knew—without knowing how—that this was the source of the signal.
Lyra studied him, her voice low and edged. "That thing's alive, isn't it?"
Before Kaelen could answer, the alien whisper returned—louder, resonant, shaking the chamber itself.
"Prove you are worthy."
The ship's hatch unsealed with a hiss.
Both of them froze. The airlock lights turned green.
Lyra's hand drifted toward her blaster again, though her lips curled in something dangerously close to a smile. "Of course. They want us to step outside."
Kaelen's stomach tightened. Every instinct screamed that nothing good awaited beyond that hatch. But the fire of discovery, of obsession, burned stronger. This was his moment.
He turned to Lyra. "We have to go. If we don't—someone else will find this place. The corporations, the war machines… they'll twist it."
Lyra's eyes bored into his, measuring, testing. At last, she gave a sharp nod.
"Fine. But you walk first, genius."
The hatch hissed open. A wave of air—cool, sharp, and heavy with something indefinably alien—washed over them.
Together, they stepped into the chamber And the black sphere turned its gaze upon them.