Rain drizzled endlessly over Ironhaven City, washing grime down steel walls and cracked walkways. Neon signs flickered weakly, reflected in puddles that never fully dried.
At the edge of District Seventeen, a colossal structure pierced the clouds.
The Ironhaven Sanctuary Gate — Node 17.
It stood there silently, ancient and indifferent, like a god that neither listened nor cared.
Every day, people gathered beneath it.
Every day, hopes were measured, sorted, and discarded.
And every day, the gate remained unmoved.
Eren Vale stood under a rusted canopy, his jacket soaked through, eyes fixed on the distant glow of the gate.
Seventeen years old.
Born in Ironhaven.
No background. No connections.
He already knew the result.
"Next applicant."
The mechanical voice echoed from the registration terminal.
Eren stepped forward and placed his hand against the cold scanner.
Identity: Confirmed
Name: Eren Vale
Age: Seventeen
CreditTier: Tier-0 (Civilian)
Gate Access: Denied
A red light flashed.
No hesitation. No explanation.
The gate officer didn't even raise his head.
"Move aside. Next."
Eren withdrew his hand and stepped away quietly, boots splashing through shallow water.
Behind him, someone cursed. Ahead, a young man laughed bitterly. This was normal. District Seventeen produced laborers and scrap-haulers—not Sanctuary hunters.
The Human Stellar Federation didn't waste opportunities on people like him.
Eren turned away from the gate and disappeared into the rain.
The apartment was small—so small that silence filled it more heavily than sound.
A low hum echoed from the corner of the room.
The medical pod glowed faintly, its surface illuminated by soft blue light.
Inside lay Selene Vale.
Her face was calm, untouched by time, as if she had simply fallen asleep and forgotten how to wake.
She had been like that for six years.
Eren stood beside the pod for a long moment, resting his palm against the glass.
"I'm back," he said softly.
There was no response.
From the adjoining room came light footsteps.
His sister, Lina Vale, peeked out, wrapping a thin blanket around her shoulders. Her hair was slightly messy, eyes still heavy with sleep.
"You went to the gate again?" she asked.
Eren nodded.
She didn't ask what happened.
Instead, she turned and returned to the kitchen. Moments later, she came back holding half a nutrient bar.
"Eat," she said, pushing it into his hand. "I already did."
Eren looked at her.
They both knew that was a lie.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Lina smiled, satisfied, and retreated to her room.
Eren ate slowly, each bite measured.
Tomorrow, the medical subscription renewed.
Food could wait.
That night, when Ironhaven finally sank into uneasy sleep, Eren sat on the floor beside the pod and closed his eyes.
His breathing steadied.
His thoughts cleared.
And deep within him—far beneath blood, bone, and thought—something awakened.
CORE-0 STATUS REPORT
Data integrity: Stable
Core functions: Operational
Environmental threshold met
The voice was calm. Precise. Emotionless.
It had always been there.
Not loud.
Not demanding.
Never interfering unless necessary.
Eren didn't know what it truly was.
He only knew one thing.
When it spoke, he survived.
Physical condition: Suboptimal
Nutrient deficiency detected
Recommended action: Controlled exertion
Eren opened his eyes.
"Not tonight," he murmured.
He stood carefully, making sure Lina didn't wake, and stepped onto the narrow balcony outside.
Ironhaven stretched endlessly below—layers of metal, cables, lights, and shadows. Somewhere beyond the stars, other races hunted freely in Sanctuaries without permits, quotas, or waiting lines.
Somewhere, people like him died trying to reach those same gates.
Eren clenched his fist, rain running down his knuckles.
Sanctuary compatibility: Within acceptable parameters
Legal entry probability: Low
Forced entry survival probability: Unknown
Unknown was better than impossible.
He glanced back through the window—at the glowing medical pod, at his sister's closed door, at the life he could not afford to lose.
Then he lifted his gaze once more to the distant glow of Node 17, looming above the city like a promise never meant for him.
"Soon," Eren said quietly.
Not to the gate.
Not to the Federation.
But to himself.
Far beyond Ironhaven, beyond stars and Sanctuaries, something ancient shifted—
unaware that the anomaly it had waited for had already taken its first step.