For several long moments, no one spoke.
Rourke remained still, feeling the last remnants of the Heart's echo settle inside him like drifting embers after a firestorm. The vibrations beneath his skin quieted into a steady hum—present, powerful, but no longer volatile.
The chamber around them responded to his presence.
Metal panels shifted.
Broken conduits straightened.
Strands of dormant light flickered awake.
It wasn't conscious movement.
It was recognition.
Seren stepped toward him cautiously, as though approaching a wild animal that had suddenly remembered it had claws.
"Rourke…?" she whispered.
Her voice snapped him back.
He blinked, and the silver glow in his eyes softened into its normal color.
"I'm still me," he said.
Seren exhaled—the kind of breath someone had been holding far too long. "Good. Because I was seconds away from shooting you if you went full monster."
Rourke smirked. "You wouldn't shoot me."
"Oh, I absolutely would."
She holstered her pistol, but he saw relief in her posture.
The gravitational guide drifted toward them.
Its form was sharper now, more stable—strengthened by the Heart's renewal.
"The bond is complete," it intoned.
"But the Heart is not fully restored. You are its conduit now. Its guardian."
Rourke nodded. "What does that mean for the Hunters?"
"It means they will come."
The chamber trembled—subtle, but unmistakable.
Seren's hand flew back to her weapon.
"What was that?"
The guide dimmed, as if listening to unseen frequencies.
"A ripple in the outer shell. The Hunters have begun their approach."
Rourke's stomach tightened. "How long do we have?"
"Minutes."
Seren cursed under her breath. "Of course they would show up now. Perfect timing."
The Sphere Awakens
The platform jolted slightly, as though the entire structure was shifting into a defensive state. Lights cascaded down the walls, forming luminous pathways.
Rourke looked around. "Is it reacting to me?"
"It responds to the Heart," the guide said.
"Through you."
The lights converged toward a central pillar, unfolding panels to reveal a swirling holographic map of the surrounding space.
A dark shape approached the sphere like a wound tearing through the void.
The Hunters' ship.
The vessel was unlike any human creation—angular, flowing, consuming space around it as if pulling the stars closer. It distorted everything nearby, bending light, warping stillness.
Seren stepped closer to the projection. "That thing is huge. How did we not detect it before?"
"They move between the folds of gravity," the guide explained.
"Invisible to your technology. Visible only to those who feel the Weave's pulse."
Rourke placed a hand on the hologram.
The moment he touched it, data flooded into him:
mass, velocity, gravitational signature, structural patterns.
He jerked back. "I… I can read it. I don't know how, but I can."
"The Heart has opened your perception," the guide said.
"What was once instinct is now knowledge."
Seren pointed at the ship's path. "They're coming in slow. Why? Why aren't they attacking?"
Rourke understood immediately.
"They're scanning," he said quietly.
"Searching for me."
The guide nodded.
"They sense the Heart's awakening. They will not bombard the sphere—they fear destroying what they came to claim."
Seren muttered, "Great. So we'll be kidnapped instead of vaporized. Comforting."
Gravity Answers His Call
Something tugged at Rourke's mind.
A pull—gentle but persistent.
He followed it to the chamber's edge, laying a hand on a cracked wall. The moment he made contact, the metal glowed, repairing itself beneath his fingertips.
Seren stared, slack-jawed. "Okay. That's terrifying."
Rourke flexed his fingers. "It's not me. It's the Heart working through the sphere."
"Your bond grants access to ancient systems," the guide said.
"But your control remains untested."
Rourke frowned. "Meaning?"
The guide drifted closer.
"You wield Solarii strength—but strength without clarity collapses. You must learn to channel gravitational force precisely, or the sphere will break under your commands."
Seren crossed her arms. "So you gave him the universe's most dangerous power and zero instructions. Great."
Rourke shot her a look. She shrugged.
The guide extended an arm toward a circular platform rising from the floor.
"Step forward, Rourke Talon.
The sphere will attune to your presence."
Rourke approached.
The moment he stepped onto the platform, gravity folded—not crushing, not lifting, but shifting. The air thickened like a storm about to break.
Lights swirled upward, forming a ring around him.
Seren backed up. "Rourke… if you explode, I'm leaving."
"I'm not going to explode."
A beat passed.
"At least, I don't think I am."
First Control
The ring tightened.
Energy pooled around Rourke's chest, then spread to his fingertips. His pulse synced with the Heart's. Every breath echoed through the chamber, vibrating the metal.
The guide spoke:
"Summon the pull."
Rourke closed his eyes.
He exhaled.
A soft gravitational field expanded outward—
gentle, even, controlled.
The sphere hummed in acknowledgment.
Seren whispered, "Okay… that's actually impressive."
The guide nodded.
"Now reverse it."
Rourke focused.
He inhaled.
The gravitational field contracted—
pulling inward, but smoothly, without tearing anything loose.
Panels in the walls shifted, aligning themselves.
Dust lifted off the floor in spiraling currents.
The chamber bowed to him.
Rourke opened his eyes.
The glow in them flickered—not dangerous, but vibrant.
"I… can control it," he whispered.
"You can begin to," the guide corrected.
"Mastery will take time. But we do not have time."
The sphere shook again—harder.
Alarms—ancient, harmonic tones—echoed through the halls.
Seren turned toward the entrance. "They're boarding. We need a plan."
Rourke stepped off the platform, energy crackling faintly around him.
He looked at the hologram of the Hunters' ship.
Then at Seren.
Then at the guide.
"What do we do?" Seren asked.
Rourke exhaled, calm and steady.
"We don't run this time."
He turned toward the main corridor leading upward.
"We hold them back."
The Hunters Arrive
Metal groaned in the distance.
A grinding, unnatural sound.
The guide's form tightened, as though bracing itself.
"They have breached the outer shell."
Seren drew her pistol.
"Then let's make sure they regret it."
Rourke closed his eyes.
The sphere whispered to him—
its corridors, its broken passages, its dormant defenses.
He could feel everything.
"Follow me," he said softly.
His voice carried a new weight—
a calm that wasn't bravado, but certainty.
Seren nodded, trusting him for reasons she didn't need to speak.
The guide drifted behind them.
Rourke stepped into the corridor.
And for the first time since the Hunters entered his life—
he didn't feel hunted.
He felt ready.