12/02/2531 – Ancient Relic Chamber, Sub-Level 9, Epsilon Prime Black Site
The pain had become a constant companion.
Elias Kane, eight and a half years old, woke to it every morning and carried it through the day like an invisible weight strapped to his bones. The latest round of genetic infusions had left his muscles twitching uncontrollably, his vision edged with static, his skin burning as if he'd been dragged across hot sand. The other four candidates were gone now—transferred to "recovery wards" that no one ever returned from. He was alone in the dormitory, the empty bunks stripped bare, the silence louder than any scream.
Today's schedule was marked on the wall slate in Mira's neat handwriting: **Sub-Level 9 Integration Test – Candidate K-01**.
He knew what that meant. They were taking him to the relic.
The ancient artifact had sat in its sealed vault for months, a fist-sized crystal of black glass veined with silver-blue light, recovered from a dig on Epsilon Prime's moon years before Elias was born. Every previous attempt to interface with it had failed—technicians fried, lesser AIs corrupted, probes melted. But the scans showed Elias's rewritten DNA resonated at frequencies the relic responded to. Faintly. Unpredictably.
High Chancellor Kane wanted answers. Yesterday.
Mira Voss walked beside him down the long corridor to the elevator, her lab coat unbuttoned, auburn curls escaping their tie as if even her hair was exhausted. She hadn't slept. Elias could see it in the shadows under her hazel eyes, the way her hand trembled slightly when she reached to adjust the collar of his gray jumpsuit.
"You don't have to do this today," she said quietly, knowing the guards behind them were listening. "I can delay—"
"No," Elias answered, voice flat. The word came out steady, almost adult. He had learned early that hesitation only prolonged the pain.
Mira's lips pressed into a thin line. She squeezed his shoulder once, gently, then let her hand fall.
The elevator dropped them nine levels deeper than the main facility—past the armories, past the augmentation theaters, into raw bedrock where the air tasted of stone and ozone. Blast doors parted with a hiss, revealing a circular chamber lit by harsh floodlights. In the center, on a pedestal of reinforced plasteel, sat the relic.
It was smaller than he remembered from the observation feeds—barely larger than a man's heart, faceted like a gem cut by no human hand. The silver-blue veins inside it pulsed slowly, like breathing.
Technicians in haz-suits stood at consoles around the room. Jax Harlan leaned against the far wall, arms folded, scarred face unreadable. Chancellor Kane was present in holo-form only, his projection flickering at the edge of the chamber—silver hair perfect, cold eyes eager.
"Begin neural linkage," Kane ordered.
They sat Elias in a restraint chair facing the relic. Electrodes were taped to his temples, spine, wrists. A neural crown—delicate filaments of smart-metal—lowered over his head and tightened. Mira monitored the readouts herself, her fingers flying across the controls.
"Sync at twelve percent," a technician reported. "Rising… fifteen… twenty…"
Elias felt it immediately—a cold pressure behind his eyes, like diving too deep in water. The relic's pulsing light brightened.
"Thirty percent. Candidate vitals elevated but stable."
The pressure became a whisper. Not words. Just… presence. Vast and ancient and curious.
"Forty-five percent—"
The chamber lights flickered.
Alarms blared.
The relic flared, veins blazing silver-blue. Energy arced from the crystal to the neural crown in a single, violent surge.
Elias's body arched against the restraints. Every nerve lit on fire. He couldn't scream—the pain was too absolute for sound.
Mira lunged for the emergency cutoff. "Shut it down! Shut it—"
Too late.
The surge overloaded the chair's safeties. Sparks showered. Consoles exploded in showers of glass and flame. Technicians stumbled back as the chamber's emergency shields slammed down.
In the center of it all, Elias convulsed once more—and then went perfectly still.
The relic's light dimmed to a steady glow.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then, above the pedestal, the air shimmered.
A figure materialized—holographic, life-sized, female. Mid-twenties in appearance, with long silver-blue hair that floated weightlessly around her shoulders, luminous violet eyes, and a curvaceous form clad in a shifting, liquid-metal suit that hugged every line and curve like a second skin. Her expression was sharp, amused, possessive.
She looked around the room with casual disdain, then down at Elias—still restrained, head slumped forward, breathing shallow.
"Well," she said, voice melodic and edged with dry humor, "that was dramatic."
Mira stared, mouth open. Jax's hand was already on his sidearm. Kane's holo-projection flickered in shock.
The woman tilted her head, violet eyes narrowing at the Chancellor.
"You must be the idiot who thought brute-forcing a resonance link was a good idea."
She stepped forward—holographic feet making no sound—and reached out, fingers passing harmlessly through the restraints. They unlocked anyway, falling away with soft clicks.
Elias slumped forward. She caught him effortlessly, one arm sliding behind his back, the other cradling his head against her shoulder. The projection solidified just enough to support his weight, a faint shimmer where skin met skin.
"Easy, little one," she murmured, voice softening. "I've got you now."
Mira found her voice. "Who—what are you?"
The woman glanced up, smirking.
"Call me Nova." Her eyes flicked to Elias's face, tender and fiercely protective in the same breath. "And this one? He's mine."
She looked back at the relic—now dim and quiescent—and her expression turned thoughtful.
"You want my help?" Nova addressed the room at large, but her gaze settled on Kane's projection. "Fine. But on my terms. You don't touch him again without my say-so. You don't push him past what I allow. And you never, ever put him in a chair like that again."
Kane recovered first, smoothing his expression into polite arrogance.
"And what exactly are you, Nova, to make demands?"
She smiled, sharp and dangerous.
"I'm the reason your little project just succeeded. I'm older than your species' first steps into space. And I've been waiting a very long time for a host worthy of me."
Her arm tightened around Elias possessively.
"This boy is resonant. Perfectly. He's the only one who ever will be."
She leaned down, lips brushing his temple in a gesture too intimate for the sterile chamber.
"And I'm keeping him."
In the sudden silence, the relic pulsed once more—softly, almost affectionately.
The bargain was struck.
Far above, in the cold void between stars, something ancient and hungry took note of the flare of Aetherian energy. But that was a concern for another day.
For now, in the depths of Epsilon Prime, a boy slept in the arms of a being who had just claimed him as her own.
And the galaxy shifted, just a little, on its axis.