Chapter 1: The Girl Who Touched the Sky
Most nights, Abigail Onyinka couldn't sleep.
It wasn't because of noise—though the city of Port Amber never truly slept. Generators growled. Street hawkers argued deep into the night. Somewhere, always, a dog barked like it was warning the world about something only it could see.
No, Abigail stayed awake because the sky had been wrong for weeks.
Ever since the blackouts started.
Ever since the stars began… flickering.
She leaned against the rusted balcony railing of Block 47, chin resting on her folded arms. The metal was cold through her thin sweater, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed upward.
Waiting.
Watching.
"Maybe I'm just overthinking," she muttered.
The sky shimmered.
Abigail went completely still.
There it was again—that strange ripple, like heat waves rolling across glass. It stretched across the night for just a second before vanishing.
Her heart began to pound.
"That's not normal," she whispered.
Then the star fell.
It didn't streak across the sky like a meteor.
It descended.
Slow.
Controlled.
Wrong.
Abigail's breath hitched as the glowing object drifted downward beyond the shadow of the abandoned St. Mercy Hospital at the edge of the district.
No explosion followed.
No sound.
Just silence.
The kind of silence that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Abigail straightened slowly.
"…Okay," she said, already turning toward the door. "We're definitely checking that out."
Thirty minutes later, she stood in front of the hospital gates.
The chain that normally locked them was hanging loose.
Broken.
"That's… comforting," Abigail murmured dryly.
She hesitated for exactly three seconds.
Then she pushed the gate open and slipped inside.
Curiosity had always been her biggest problem.
The inside of St. Mercy smelled like dust, rust, and old memories.
Her flashlight beam cut through the darkness in a narrow cone, illuminating cracked tiles and peeling paint. Each step she took echoed too loudly in the empty halls.
But underneath the silence…
There was a hum.
Soft.
Mechanical.
Alive.
Abigail's grip tightened on the flashlight.
"Hello?" she called before she could stop herself.
The hospital did not answer.
The hum grew louder.
She followed the sound down the emergency corridor, her pulse speeding up with every step. The air felt strange here—charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm.
Then she turned the corner.
And froze.
The star was floating in the middle of the emergency ward.
About the size of a basketball.
Smooth.
Metallic.
Alive with thin lines of blue light that moved across its surface like flowing circuits.
Abigail's mouth fell open.
"…No way."
The sphere pulsed gently, as if it had a heartbeat.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then Abigail, proving once again that her survival instincts were questionable at best, took one careful step forward.
The sphere reacted instantly.
The blue lines flared bright.
The air vibrated.
And a voice spoke.
"Biological signature detected."
Abigail yelped and nearly dropped the flashlight.
"WHO SAID THAT?!"
The voice was calm. Mechanical. Too close.
"Compatibility scan in progress…"
Her eyes locked onto the floating sphere.
"…You have got to be kidding me."
"Compatibility: 97.8%. Host candidate accepted."
Abigail's stomach dropped.
"Wait—hold on—what host—"
The sphere shot forward.
Pain exploded through her body.
Abigail collapsed to her knees with a strangled gasp, fingers digging into her chest as blue light spread beneath her skin like glowing veins.
Her vision shattered into fragments.
Numbers.
Star maps.
Alien symbols she somehow understood.
A warning burned through her mind like fire:
EARTH STATUS: LAST SAFE WORLD
Her breath came in ragged pulls.
"What… did you do to me?" she whispered.
For a moment, there was only the sound of her own heartbeat.
Then the voice returned—softer now.
"Hello, Abigail Onyinka."
Her blood ran cold.
"…How do you know my name?"
"I am ORION. Final survivor of the Aethelion Star Network. I have merged with your biological system for survival."
Abigail stared at her faintly glowing hands.
"…You what?"
Before ORION could respond—
The hospital shook.
Hard.
Dust rained from the ceiling. The lights in the hallway flickered violently.
Abigail's head snapped toward the broken window at the far end of the ward.
Outside…
The sky was cracking.
Actually cracking.
Thin red fractures spread across the night like broken glass.
Her stomach dropped to her feet.
"…ORION," she whispered slowly, "please tell me that's normal."
For the first time, the AI hesitated.
"Negative."
The red fractures widened.
Something enormous moved behind them.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hunting.
Abigail swallowed hard.
"…So you wanna explain what kind of trouble I just signed up for?"
There was a pause.
Then—
"Correction, Abigail Onyinka."
The hospital lights died completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
"The trouble has just begun."