The alarms did not stop.
They did not fade into background noise or glitch out the way old Sector Nine systems sometimes did. They continued in steady, controlled pulses that told everyone exactly what this was.
Not a malfunction.
A report.
Aria stood in the middle of scattered metal parts and tried to breathe as if nothing had happened. Her chest still felt tight, like something enormous had folded itself inside her ribs and was waiting.
Around her, workers were frozen in place.
The mechanical voice echoed again from above, calm and disturbingly polite.
"Anomaly signature confirmed. Energy distortion detected. Please remain stationary for scanning."
Scanning.
Her mind moved fast now. Scans would measure bio-signatures. They would compare genetic markers to registered databases. They would isolate the source of the gravitational distortion.
They would find her.
Milo grabbed her wrist. His hand was shaking.
"Tell me that wasn't you."
She held his gaze. For a second, she thought about lying. Then she realized it did not matter.
"It was me," she said quietly.
His grip loosened like he had touched something hot.
"Aria, do you understand what anomaly means?"
"Yes."
An anomaly meant unregistered power. It meant deviation from the Core's approved biological standards. It meant a possible Starborn classification.
And Starborn were extinct.
Officially.
Bootsteps echoed from the upper platform. Security officers in gray armor began moving into the dockyard with practiced efficiency. They were not local guards. These carried Core insignias on their shoulders, the sharp circular symbol that represented central authority.
Aria's pulse sped up.
She forced herself not to look at her hands.
Stay normal.
Act confused.
Act irritated.
A scanning drone detached from the ceiling and lowered itself toward the center of the dockyard. Its lens rotated slowly, emitting a thin red beam that swept across workers one by one.
The beam passed over Milo first. It paused briefly, then moved on.
When it reached her, the air around her skin prickled.
The thing inside her reacted.
She felt it before she understood it. A subtle resistance. A tightening. As if whatever had bonded with her did not like being examined.
Do not move, she told herself.
The red beam scanned down her face, across her chest, and toward her hands.
The moment it touched her skin fully, something pushed back.
The beam flickered.
Just once.
But it was enough.
The drone hesitated, then recalibrated and scanned her again.
This time, the beam bent slightly to the left, like light passing through water.
Her stomach dropped.
One of the armored officers looked up sharply.
"Scan irregularity detected," he said into his comm.
The drone emitted a sharper tone and focused entirely on her.
Aria's breath came shallow now. Panic crept in despite her effort to remain steady.
The pressure inside her chest grew stronger.
Not again.
Please not again.
"Citizen," one of the officers called out, stepping closer. "State your identification number."
She swallowed.
"Aria Vale. Maintenance technician. Sector Nine registry 4487-Delta."
Her voice did not shake. She was proud of that.
The officer's visor flickered as he pulled up her data.
"Remain still."
The drone shifted closer to her face. Its lens widened, analyzing at deeper levels.
That was when she felt it clearly.
The thing inside her was not passive.
It was aware.
It did not like the drone.
The pressure spiked.
The metal fragments scattered around her boots trembled faintly.
"Aria," Milo whispered urgently.
"I know," she murmured back.
The drone's red beam intensified.
Her vision blurred at the edges.
And then, without meaning to, she thought one clear, desperate thought.
Stop.
The drone froze midair.
Not glitched.
Not malfunctioning.
Frozen.
Like gravity itself had forgotten how to behave around it.
Every officer in the dockyard stiffened.
The drone rotated slightly, trying to compensate.
Then the metal casing began to creak.
Aria's heartbeat thundered in her ears.
She was not touching it.
She was not moving.
But the air around the drone tightened visibly, like invisible hands squeezing inward.
"Containment protocol," one officer shouted.
Aria gasped and instinctively pulled back, terrified of what she was doing.
The pressure snapped.
The drone crumpled inward violently and dropped to the ground in a twisted heap of metal.
Silence fell.
Absolute silence.
Even the alarms cut out.
The officers stared at her.
No one spoke.
Milo stepped away from her completely.
Aria's ears rang.
She had just destroyed Core property in front of official security.
There was no explaining that.
The lead officer lifted his weapon slowly and aimed it directly at her chest.
"Citizen Aria Vale," he said, voice hard now, "you are being detained for investigation under anomaly suspicion."
Her heart pounded so loudly she thought she might faint.
Detained meant transport.
Transport meant testing facilities.
Testing facilities meant she would never return.
The dockyard suddenly felt very small.
Very exposed.
She took one step backward.
"Do not move," the officer warned.
The weapon hummed faintly as it charged.
The thing inside her pulsed again, responding to her fear as it fed on it.
No.
If she lost control again, people could die.
Her eyes darted around desperately, searching for options that did not exist.
And then every screen in the dockyard flickered.
At first, it looked like a normal signal disruption. Then the overhead display panels all shifted at once, overriding the security interface.
A single symbol appeared across every surface.
A crown made of starlight.
The officers stiffened immediately.
"Unauthorized signal intrusion," one barked.
The symbol shimmered.
Then a voice filled the dockyard.
It was not loud.
It did not need to be.
It carried authority the way gravity carried weight.
"You are pointing weapons at something you do not understand," the voice said calmly.
Aria's breath caught.
Even without seeing him, she felt something change in the atmosphere.
The officers scanned for the signal origin.
"Trace it," the leader ordered.
The voice continued, smooth and unhurried.
"That anomaly you detected does not belong to you."
Aria stared at the glowing crown symbol, confusion and fear tangling inside her.
Who was this?
One of the officers shouted, "Jamming source located outside perimeter."
Before anyone could react, the dockyard ceiling shuddered violently.
Metal screamed as something massive descended above the structure.
Workers scattered.
The entire upper roof tore open in a controlled circular cut, debris falling outward instead of inward as if gravity itself had been redirected.
A sleek black ship hovered overhead, silent and imposing, its surface absorbing light instead of reflecting it.
Aria felt it immediately.
The presence of the screens.
It was here.
A hatch opened.
Figures dropped down with impossible precision, landing between her and the Core officers.
They wore dark armor etched with faint luminous lines.
Starborn.
The Core officers aimed their weapons instantly.
"Stand down," the calm voice said again.
One man stepped forward from the descending craft.
He removed his helmet slowly.
Aria forgot to breathe.
He looked younger than she expected, but there was nothing soft about him. His features were sharp, controlled, and his eyes held something ancient and calculating.
He did not look at the officers first.
He looked at her.
And the moment his gaze met hers, the thing inside her reacted.
Not violently.
Not chaotically.
It steadied.
Like it recognized him.
The man's expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
Interest.
Recognition.
Possibility.
"You are far from home," he said to her quietly, though they had never met.
The lead Core officer stepped forward angrily.
"This citizen is under detention by authority of the Central Intelligence Core. You are interfering with official—"
The man did not even look at him.
He lifted one hand slightly.
The officer's weapon bent downward under invisible pressure until the metal snapped.
The other officers froze.
"Your Core," the man said evenly, "does not govern what flows through her blood."
Aria's pulse raced.
Through her blood.
What did that mean?
He stepped closer to her, stopping just within arm's reach.
Up close, she could see faint glowing lines beneath the skin at his collarbone, like restrained constellations.
"You triggered a relic," he said softly. "Do you even understand what that makes you?"
She swallowed.
"No."
His gaze sharpened.
"Dangerous."
Behind him, his soldiers held the Core officers in perfect stalemate without firing a single shot.
The dockyard that had been her whole world for twenty-three years felt like a distant memory now.
The man studied her a moment longer.
Then he extended his hand.
"Come with me," he said.
It was not a request.
It was not forced either.
It was something far more terrifying.
An invitation into a war she did not understand.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
His lips curved slightly, though there was no warmth in them.
"Kael Draven," he replied. "And you just forced me to reveal myself."
The name hit the dockyard like a physical shock.
Even Milo gasped.
Because everyone knew that name.
The Star King was not supposed to be real.
And yet he stood in front of her, offering his hand while the galaxy watched.
Aria looked at the broken drone on the floor.
At the core, officers who would take her if he left.
At the ship, tearing open the sky above Sector Nine.
Her old life was already gone.
She took his hand.
And somewhere deep within the Central Intelligence Core, a new directive activated.
Eliminate anomaly Aria Vale.
At any cost.