《Through Darkness Eternal》 Chapter 1 : Good Bye Sol ¡°Dad, please! This isn¡¯t right, we have to find another way!¡± The words tumble out, desperate, as I follow him down the harshly lit, sterile corridors of the lab. My bare feet slap against the cold metal floor, each step sending a shiver through me. My hospital gown clings to my skin, paper-thin, offering little warmth against the chill that fills the lab. For weeks, I¡¯ve been here in these gowns, subjected to endless tests, the ¡°preparations¡± he¡¯s insisted on. But today feels different. Everything about the way he moves, the look on his face¡ªthere¡¯s a finality in it that presses down on me, heavy and unyielding. He strides ahead, purposeful, his silence more imposing than any words. This is Dr. Julian Voss¡ªmy father, yes, but more than that to the rest of the world. The Dr. Voss, humanity¡¯s last hope, a man who carries the weight of Earth¡¯s extinction on his shoulders. He¡¯s not just a scientist; he¡¯s the architect of survival, the one who has pushed further than any other to secure the last threads of humanity. And I know, watching his back as he leads me down this endless corridor, that he has sacrificed more than I can imagine to get here. We reach the docking bay, and he stops. I stop, too, staring at what¡¯s waiting there¡ªa cryo pod, pristine and sealed, positioned in the center of the bay, ready to be loaded onto a nearby ship. A chill spreads through me, colder than the metal beneath my feet. My stomach drops as I turn to him, searching his face for any trace of warmth, any hint of the father I knew. But his gaze is steely, resolved. Dr. Voss, the man entrusted with humanity¡¯s future. I whisper, my voice barely finding its way out. ¡°Dad¡­ what is this?¡± I look up at him, meeting his gaze, and the sight of his blue eyes¡ªthose same eyes we share¡ªsends a pang through me. He¡¯s always looked at me with a fierce protectiveness, but now his gaze is hard, unyielding, filled with a cold determination that feels like the very last thing I¡¯d ever see. ¡°This is the only way,¡± he says, his voice low and unwavering. There¡¯s no trace of warmth, just the unbreakable conviction of a man who¡¯s sacrificed everything. ¡°There¡¯s no other choice. Now, come.¡± His hand clamps around my small wrist, firm and unyielding, pulling me forward even as I drag my heels against the floor, resisting him. I dig in harder, finally yanking back, my heart pounding. ¡°What the fuck, Dad?¡± I shout, my words sharp with rising panic. ¡°You can¡¯t just¡­ leave everyone else! You¡¯re humanity¡¯s last hope, and you¡¯re running away?¡± I pull against his grip, desperation giving me strength. ¡°You¡¯re abandoning them all?¡± He reaches out, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me close, his expression hardening. ¡°Damn it, Sol,¡± he snaps, his voice rough, carrying an edge of desperation. ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡ªyou can¡¯t understand. But someday, you will.¡± Before I can respond, his hand comes down across my face, a harsh slap that knocks me off balance. I stumble, crumpling to the cold metal floor, the sting radiating through my cheek. My hand flies to my mouth, feeling the warm trickle of blood at my lip as I stare up at him, shocked. He¡¯s towering above me, his frame seeming even larger, casting a shadow over me. He¡¯s never hit me before. Never. For a brief moment, I see him grimace, regret flickering in his eyes. But it vanishes as quickly as it came, his face settling back into that hard, unyielding expression. ¡°This isn¡¯t a choice, Sol,¡± he says, his voice thick with an emotion I can barely recognize. ¡°This is the only way. You¡¯re the only one who can survive this. I¡¯m doing this for you.¡± He glances toward the pod, his gaze briefly distant, his jaw tight. ¡°You know the mission,¡± he says, his voice low but intense. ¡°Our last hope for humanity is in the colony at Haven. Jericho is carrying the final fusion core Earth will ever produce, the only thing that can keep them alive. Once it¡¯s gone, Earth will die, whether today or tomorrow. Staying here won¡¯t change that.¡± The desperation in his voice cuts through my anger, and I hear the faint, relentless sounds of chaos outside¡ªthe shouting, the thundering footsteps of soldiers. He grips my shoulders harder, forcing me to meet his gaze. ¡°There¡¯s a mob out there, people trying to storm the docks, desperate for any chance to escape. Troops can barely keep them back. They know, Sol. They know this is the end.¡± He looks back at me, his eyes blazing. ¡°You¡¯re the only one I can protect. The only one with a chance to carry on my work. This is the only way.¡± I stare, mouth open, my voice barely more than a whisper. ¡°Dad¡­ don¡¯t do this. Don¡¯t leave everyone behind. You¡¯re the world¡¯s last hope¡ªyou¡¯re supposed to save them.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. He exhales, a slow, weary sound, as though the weight of everything he¡¯s done has finally settled on him. ¡°It¡¯s too late to save them,¡± he says, his tone flat, like he¡¯s been telling himself this over and over again. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Sol. Earth is beyond saving. My research¡­ it was supposed to create a future. It was supposed to protect us. But I miscalculated.¡± He shakes his head, his eyes clouded. ¡°What I created¡­ it spread. Faster than I ever could have imagined.¡± ¡°What did you do?¡± I whisper, a chill creeping down my spine as I search his face for answers. He glances at the cryo pod, his expression softening for a fleeting, unguarded moment. ¡°You¡¯ll understand in time. This¡­ this isn¡¯t how I wanted things to be,¡± he murmurs, almost to himself. There¡¯s a hint of something I can¡¯t quite place¡ªregret, maybe, or hesitation. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanishes. His gaze sharpens, hard and unyielding, and his hands reach for me. His fingers grip my shoulders, tightening with a firmness that leaves no room for argument, and he lifts me as if I weigh nothing, pulling me close, my feet leaving the floor. A stray lock of dark hair falls into my face, and I push it aside, my heart pounding as he holds me there, my feet dangling above the cold metal floor. ¡°But this isn¡¯t about what we want,¡± he says, his voice low, filled with a fierce urgency. ¡°It¡¯s about what humanity needs. I did everything to prepare for this¡ªto prepare you. Whether this is a curse or a gift¡­ only you can decide. But you¡¯re¡­ the only hope left.¡± Without waiting for my response, he turns, still gripping me tightly, and begins to push me toward the open pod, each step bringing me closer to the cold, unfeeling metal that waits to seal me inside. ¡°Me?¡± I shake my head, anger flaring, though it feels as if the ground has fallen away beneath me. ¡°I¡¯m not your experiment, Dad. I¡¯m not some¡­ backup plan.¡± His expression softens for just a moment, a flicker of regret shadowing his gaze. But then his grip on my shoulders tightens, his face hardening, resolute. ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± he says, his voice steady but weighted with something darker. ¡°You¡¯re the only plan¡­ the only one who can carry on my work when I¡¯m gone. You¡¯re the only one who shares my DNA, the only one who can handle the changes, the only one it won¡¯t destroy. You¡¯re smart enough, strong enough to survive what¡¯s coming. No one else can.¡± Before I can react, he turns me forcefully toward the cryo pod, guiding me back with an urgency that borders on desperation. I push against him, twisting my arms, but he¡¯s stronger. His fingers dig into my shoulders, his grip unrelenting, his determination leaving no room for resistance. My back hits the cold interior of the pod, and his hands press down on my shoulders, forcing me into place. ¡°No! Daddy, please!¡± I cry, my voice breaking, raw with desperation. I thrash against his hold, but my small, slender frame is no match for his strength. His hands are unyielding, gripping me tightly as he pulls me toward the pod. ¡°You can¡¯t just¡­ leave them all behind. You¡¯re giving up on everyone! You¡¯re running away!¡± But he doesn¡¯t answer, his jaw set, his gaze hard and unflinching as he lifts me and maneuvers me into the cryo pod. My heart races, panic flaring as he snaps the restraints shut around my wrists and ankles, locking me down. The cold metal bites into my skin, pinning me in place. I twist, struggling against the straps, but they don¡¯t budge. My bare feet brush against the frigid interior, grounding me in the horrifying reality that I¡¯m trapped. He steps back, and for a fleeting moment, his gaze softens as he looks at me, a fierce determination in his blue eyes shadowed by something darker¡ªregret, or perhaps guilt. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a syringe filled with a shimmering, iridescent liquid. The needle catches the light, gleaming like something sharp and merciless. A tightness seizes in my chest as he holds it up, his face unreadable. ¡°Dad¡­ what is that?¡± I whisper, the words barely escaping as terror blooms through me, cold and suffocating. ¡°This is the only way to protect you,¡± he says, his voice cracking as he steps closer, the syringe steady in his hand. ¡°The tests¡­ they all say this will work. I didn¡¯t want it to come to this, Sol. But there¡¯s no other choice.¡± He pauses, voice softening. ¡°I have to protect you.¡± ¡°No!¡± I try to pull my arms, my legs, anything to break free from the restraints, but I¡¯m helpless, bound by his unrelenting hold and the cold metal strapped across my limbs. He brings the syringe closer, and I feel the sharp prick of the needle as it pierces my skin, releasing a flood of unbearable heat into my veins. ¡°Why, Daddy?¡± I gasp, my voice barely more than a broken whisper as the fire spreads, twisting and burning from the inside out. The pain is excruciating, an intense, searing heat that fills every nerve in my body. My muscles tense, my back arches against the restraints, but there¡¯s no escape. My skin feels like it¡¯s blistering, my blood boiling with the invasive heat of whatever he¡¯s injected into me. ¡°Because I have to,¡± he whispers, his voice thick with emotion as he watches me writhe, his gaze filled with regret and something even darker. ¡°Because I love you. You¡¯re the only one who can carry on. You¡¯re humanity¡¯s last hope.¡± As my vision blurs from the pain, I feel him reach up, fastening an IV line to my arm. The hiss of the closing cryo pod surrounds me, the last sounds I hear as he leans close, his voice soft, barely audible over the pod¡¯s hum. ¡°I love you, Sol,¡± he says, his words distant, hollow as my consciousness slips away. ¡°No matter what, remember that you are my legacy.¡± The last thing I see is his face, blurred and fading, as the darkness consumes me. Chapter 2 : Sleeping Beauty ¡°Daddy, Please No!¡± The words tear out of my throat, my own voice echoing, raw and desperate, into the icy silence. My eyes snap open, and I gasp, choking on the thick, metallic air as it forces its way into my lungs. Every breath feels jagged, like sharp edges scraping inside me. My limbs are pinned down, bound, thick straps cutting into my wrists and ankles. Panic swells in my chest, and I thrash, yanking against the restraints with all the strength I can muster. ¡°Get the fuck off me!¡± I scream, tearing at the restraints until, one by one, they release with a loud series of clicks. I rip them away, clawing the thin IV lines from my arms. Pain flares as they pull free, and I glimpse thin streaks of blood trailing down my forearms. But the pain is distant, hazy, as my mind claws its way out of the fog. I push the pod lid open, the hinges creaking, and I stumble out, collapsing onto the freezing metal floor, every inch of me raw and disoriented. The cold stabs through my thin hospital gown, biting into my skin. I push myself to my knees, trying to catch my breath, but my mind feels like it¡¯s swimming through quicksand. The lab, my father¡¯s face, the searing pain of the needle¡ªimages flash through my head, one after another, each one tinged with the surreal, heavy sense of something gone horribly wrong. I glance down at my hands, expecting to see blood from the spots where the IVs had pierced my veins. But there¡¯s barely a trace¡ªthe holes are gone, the skin smooth and unbroken. Blood still streaks down my forearms, faint red trails marking where the tubes had been. I bring my fingers to my face, brushing a lock of hair from my eyes. White. My hair is white¡ªbright, unnatural, as if it¡¯s been drained of all color. I pull more of it forward, my heart pounding as I stare. My hair was black. But now¡­ I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the cold metal panel beside me and freeze. One eye is still the familiar blue I¡¯ve always known, but the other¡­ it¡¯s a deep crimson, unnatural, like a flicker of fire trapped in my gaze. I reach up, fingers brushing the skin beneath it, smooth and flawless, no longer marked by the small scars and imperfections I remember. My face is almost doll-like, pale and eerily perfect, with not a single blemish or line. The hiss of a door sliding open snaps me back, and footsteps echo through the room¡ªa rhythmic, indifferent beat that sends a chill down my spine. I turn slowly, and a tall man steps into view, his expression more irritated than concerned, his uniform pristine and spotless. ¡°Sol Voss?¡± His voice is cold, detached, as if he¡¯s reading my name off a checklist. He stands a few steps away, studying me with narrowed eyes, his gaze lingering over my blood-streaked hands, my too-pale, almost translucent skin, the mess of ghostly white hair hanging around my face. ¡°I¡¯m Dr. Garin,¡± he adds, his tone as sharp and clinical as his expression. For a moment, his lips press into a thin line of¡­ impatience, like I¡¯m a problem, an inconvenience, something to be handled and moved along. ¡°Welcome back,¡± he continues, but his tone holds none of the warmth those words imply. His eyes flick back to my arms, to the thin trails of blood trickling from where the IVs had been torn out. He doesn¡¯t reach forward, doesn¡¯t offer to help. Instead, he stands there, as if appraising something faintly disappointing, his head tilting as he scans me from head to toe. ¡°Med bay is expecting you,¡± he says curtly, glancing at a device on his wrist. ¡°I¡¯ll escort you there for initial diagnostics and to check on¡­ any irregularities.¡± His words are measured, flat, as though he¡¯s speaking about equipment rather than a person. ¡°Where¡¯s my dad?¡± The question falls from my lips before I can stop it, the changes forgotten in that instant. My voice is barely more than a whisper, hoarse and broken. ¡°Dr. Julian Voss¡ªwhere is he?¡± The man¡¯s eyes flicker with a glimmer of impatience. ¡°Dr. Voss didn¡¯t survive the cryo process,¡± he states flatly, like he¡¯s delivering a memo. ¡°His pod malfunctioned shortly after launch, July 12, 2468. You¡¯ve been in stasis for fifty years. Today¡¯s date is May 18, 2518.¡± Fifty years? The date slams into me with a cold, relentless force. Fifty years since I was twenty, since that day¡­ I remember the desperate fight, my father¡¯s hands on my arms, pushing me into the pod. But¡­ that would make me¡­ seventy? A surge of panic crashes over me, clawing at my chest, and I try to push myself to my feet. Get up. Just get out. Go anywhere but here, my mind screams. But my legs buckle, trembling under my weight, and I collapse forward, hitting the cold metal floor face first. Pain bursts in my mouth, and I feel something crack. I reach up to my lips, expecting to feel a broken tooth. Instead, there¡¯s only the warm slickness of blood¡ªbut no injury, nothing out of place. What the hell is wrong with me? The man just stands there, arms folded, observing with detached amusement, as though I¡¯m a bothersome detail in his day. ¡°Yes,¡± he says clinically, as if explaining a simple fact. ¡°Chronologically, you¡¯re seventy. But biologically, you¡¯re still twenty.¡± I force myself up to my hands and knees, though my legs and arms tremble beneath me, as frustration and confusion churn within. ¡°What the hell happened to me?¡± I demand, my voice cracking. ¡°Why do I look like this? My skin, my hair¡­ everything. What did you people do to me?¡± He lets out a short, humorless laugh, folding his arms as he looks me over with thinly veiled disdain. ¡°Cryo has effects,¡± he says mockingly. ¡°We¡¯re still learning what long-term stasis does to the body. Sometimes there are side effects¡­ mutations, cancer.¡± He shrugs, mouth twisting into a sneer. ¡°Consider yourself lucky, princess. The only thing you lost was your precious melanin.¡± His gaze flickers over my ghostly appearance. ¡°You¡¯re on a ship with no sunlight, and yet your name is ¡®Sol¡¯? Ironic, don¡¯t you think?¡± He chuckles bitterly, his amusement laced with scorn. I feel a flash of anger at his words, and my hands clench involuntarily. His eyes narrow as he leans forward, his tone turning even colder. ¡°Frankly, you¡¯re a waste of resources,¡± he says, voice dripping with condescension. ¡°That pod could¡¯ve saved someone worthwhile. Someone who earned their spot here, not someone handed it through nepotism.¡± He pauses, letting his words sink in, his expression hard. ¡°If I¡¯d been able to pull strings like your father, maybe my daughter would still be here too. But the great Dr. Voss pulled every favor to get you aboard.¡± The bitterness in his voice is palpable, his eyes flashing with resentment. ¡°Now that your father¡¯s gone, I¡¯m the lead scientist on the Jericho. And let me tell you, we¡¯re not going to coddle you here. You¡¯re going to pull your weight or you go back into that pod... permanently.¡± The sharpness in his tone only fuels my anger, and I can¡¯t hold back. ¡°Eat shit,¡± I snap, the words slipping out with all the venom I can muster. I try to push myself to my feet, but my legs tremble, barely holding me up before I stumble forward. I catch myself on my hands this time, my palms pressing hard against the cold, unforgiving floor. The man smirks, his contemptuous gaze lingering on me, his mouth twisting into a mockery of a smile. ¡°Careful there,¡± he sneers, his tone dripping with scorn. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want you slipping and ruining that flawless face of yours. It¡¯s about the only thing you¡¯ve got going for you, isn¡¯t it? That eerie, porcelain perfection.¡± His eyes narrow as they sweep over me, his disdain sharpening. ¡°No scars, no lines¡ªnothing human left in it.¡± He nudges a wheelchair toward me with his foot, his expression twisted with dark amusement. ¡°You¡¯ve been quite the exhibit for the crew, our very own Princess ¡®Sleeping Beauty.¡¯ Almost like a doll behind glass. Too fragile to be real.¡± His voice takes on a biting edge as he gestures sharply toward the chair. ¡°Come on, princess. Med bay¡¯s waiting. If you¡¯re too weak to stand, I¡¯ll wheel you around like the royalty you clearly think you are.¡± Before I can grab hold, he yanks the wheelchair back with a sharp pull, and I stumble forward, my knees hitting the hard metal floor. Pain flares through my legs, but I force myself to swallow the sound building in my throat. Garin stands over me, his smirk sharp and unrelenting, like he¡¯s daring me to say something. ¡°Oops,¡± he sneers, voice dripping with mockery. ¡°Guess I thought you were ready for it. My mistake.¡± Heat rushes to my face, but I push myself up, refusing to let him see how much it stings. Without a word, I crawl into the wheelchair, gripping the armrests tightly to steady myself. Garin leans over slightly, his smirk twisting darker. ¡°See? That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡± Once I¡¯m in, he shoves the chair forward, the motion jarring and rough. The wheels screech slightly against the floor as he pushes me through doors and into the hallway beyond. The sharp fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows, making the space feel cold and lifeless. The halls are silent, save for the sound of the chair¡¯s wheels and Garin¡¯s heavy steps. As we move deeper into the ship, my gaze catches glimpses of the cryo chambers through the small windows in the bulkheads. Rows of pods stretch into the distance, each one filled with a figure suspended in frozen stillness. Their faces are blurred by the frost coating the glass, their forms locked in an eerie limbo. The emptiness of the ship hits me like a weight. It feels abandoned, save for the two of us. I know how this works¡ªshifts of a skeleton crew rotating every few months, while the rest stay in cryo. But seeing it like this, so silent, so still, makes my chest tighten. How many people are awake right now? Ten? Less? I have no idea. Garin doesn¡¯t speak as he wheels me through the long corridors, but his hands are rough on the chair, each turn sharp and unforgiving. The cold air bites at my exposed skin, and the metallic tang of the recycled atmosphere fills my lungs. The isolation of it all presses down on me¡ªthe sterile halls, the empty ship, and the rows of frozen faces I can¡¯t stop imagining. ¡°What the fuck is your problem, man?¡± I finally snap, unable to hold back after another rough turn. My voice is raw, trembling with both anger and exhaustion. He chuckles coldly, his tone dripping with mockery. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, princess? You gonna cry to Daddy?¡± He pauses, letting the words cut deep before adding with a sneer, ¡°Oh, wait. That¡¯s right¡ªDaddy¡¯s gone. Guess you¡¯ll have to handle this one all by yourself.¡± I bite down the fury rising in my chest, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words sting. But he doesn¡¯t stop, his voice sharp and relentless. Each word dripping with venom as he leans close.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Little Miss Voss, humanity¡¯s golden child, right?¡± he scoffs, his tone as cold and sterile as the walls around us. ¡°It¡¯s sad, really. Your father¡¯s genius¡ªhis advancements in nearly every field¡ªall the great things he did. And the last thing he left us is¡­ you.¡± He spits the word with a sneer, his gaze flicking over me like I¡¯m something broken. My hands clench tightly around the armrests, nails digging into the synthetic material. ¡°Burn in hell, Garin,¡± I mutter, the fury trembling in my voice barely restrained. But his smirk only sharpens, his words landing like blows. ¡°If things were fair, if talent and skill actually mattered on this ship, someone useful would¡¯ve been in that pod instead of you. But no, we¡¯re stuck with Daddy¡¯s little ¡®princess of humanity,¡¯ wasting space like a spoiled legacy project.¡± His words linger, heavy and cruel, but I grit my teeth, gripping the chair until my knuckles ache, determined not to let him see me break. Princess of humanity. The title echoed through my life even back on Earth, though it held a sinister undertone here. Back then, my father was one of Earth¡¯s last leaders, a man in control of a crumbling world. And me, his daughter? I was something of a myth, barely seen beyond the sterile walls of his lab. Rumors. That I¡¯d been experimented on, twisted by my father¡¯s ambition. People whispered I wasn¡¯t fully human anymore, that he had pushed me beyond natural limits, all to save humanity. How much of it was true? Fragments are all I have¡ªthe genetic conditioning, the endless surgeries, his talk of ¡°the next leap,¡± like it was both a promise and a threat. I was his tool, crafted for a purpose I barely understand. Garin¡¯s words only deepen the bitter irony. Here I am, supposedly humanity¡¯s legacy, its last hope¡ªand yet, even I don¡¯t fully know what he made me. All I have are traces of his work¡ªthe conditioning, the FTL advancements, the biological enhancements¡ªall pointing toward a future only he could see. My skin, my hair, my blood¡­ I¡¯m a puzzle he built without ever giving me the pieces. As we near the med bay, Garin sneers down at me, muttering, ¡°Little Princess¡­ a waste of potential and resources. Your father¡¯s actual work, his legacy¡ªthat¡¯s all that matters. And now I¡¯m the one who has to finish it.¡± His bitterness slices into me, but I shove down the urge to respond. What could I possibly say? I barely understand his legacy myself, only that I was at the center of it, remade and repurposed for something far beyond my comprehension. By the time we arrive at the med bay, my mind is a storm of questions I¡¯ll never get to ask, secrets I¡¯m left to carry alone. Garin leans down, his sneer hardening as he looks at me with disdain. ¡°Useless lab rat¡ªthat¡¯s all you¡¯ll ever be. You know nothing of sacrifice. Your father¡¯s legacy died with him, and it¡¯s up to us¡ªthose of us who actually care about humanity¡¯s future¡ªto pick up the pieces he left behind.¡± My stomach twists. The truth is, even I don¡¯t fully know the legacy my father left behind. Dr. Julian Voss is everywhere on Jericho¡ªit feels like his mind built this ship. The latest fusion core powering Jericho, the one destined for Haven, the cybernetic and robotic systems¡ªall his. Every system hums with his handiwork. And me? I was part of that vision, too. I can almost feel the quiet hum of implants he added to my body over the years, the subtle enhancements woven into my flesh without a word of explanation. Whatever he injected into me that last day¡ªhis twisted, final experiment¡ªhad been the ultimate catalyst, sparking changes I can feel but don¡¯t fully understand. My skin, my blood, even my bones feel different now, charged with something not quite natural. The weight of it all presses down, suffocating. I grip the armrests harder than before, my nails digging into the synthetic material as frustration heats in my chest, tightening my throat with rage and helplessness. My vision blurs, and before I can stop them, tears prick at the corners of my eyes. It¡¯s everything¡ªthe searing anger, the wrenching sadness, the helplessness of being a pawn in my father¡¯s game, a game I barely even understand. ¡°Go fuck yourself, Garin,¡± I snap, my voice low but breaking, fierce despite the tears slipping down my cheeks. I can¡¯t keep the tremble out of my words. ¡°You have no idea what I¡¯ve been through for humanity.¡± Garin¡¯s sneer falters for a fraction of a second, as if my response catches him off guard. But he quickly recovers, his disdain settling into a look of cold satisfaction, as though my pain is exactly what he expected¡ªwhat he wanted. I turn my face away, swallowing back the grief and the simmering rage, the hollow ache that reminds me of everything I¡¯ve lost, including the one person who could answer any of this. I hate you Dad¡­ But, God, I miss you. Even knowing you made me your experiment, knowing you were never the father I needed, I still feel this emptiness gnawing at me, like something¡¯s been ripped away and left raw. Why did you do this to me? Why did you have to leave me with this¡­ whatever this is? Garin''s smirk sharpens into something darker, his eyes glinting with cruel pleasure as he takes in the tear stains on my cheeks. He leans in close, his breath cold and taunting. ¡°Oh, look at this. The ¡®princess of humanity¡¯ reduced to tears,¡± he sneers. ¡°Pathetic. I knew you were nothing but a parasite, clinging to the coattails of a man whose work you couldn¡¯t even understand.¡± He lets the words linger, savoring the impact. ¡°Do you even realize how much of a burden you are? How much precious space you waste?¡± His voice drops, low and cold. ¡°If it were up to me, your pod would¡¯ve been jettisoned to make room for someone worth the air they breathe. But instead, we¡¯re all stuck coddling Daddy¡¯s little failed experiment.¡±
He stands back, looking down at me with icy disdain. ¡°So, princess, enjoy the pity while you can. We all know you¡¯ll crack the second things get tough.¡± With a mocking flourish, he steps aside as the door to the med bay opens, raising his voice. ¡°Doctor Yates¡ªyour highness is here. Patch her up¡­ or don¡¯t. Personally, I¡¯d rather save the supplies for the livestock in cryo. At least they¡¯ll be of some use down the line.¡± Dr. Yates is already standing in the doorway, arms folded, her expression unyielding. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Garin,¡± she snaps, her voice cutting through the corridor. ¡°If I hear one more word of that nonsense, I¡¯ll make sure Captain Warren knows exactly what kind of attitude you bring to the crew.¡± Her words are clipped, her gaze fierce, and for a moment, Garin¡¯s smirk falters. He mutters something under his breath and strides away, casting one last venomous look in my direction. As soon as he¡¯s out of sight, Dr. Yates¡¯s expression softens, and she gives me a small, reassuring nod. ¡°Don¡¯t mind him, Sol,¡± she says gently, her tone warm in contrast to Garin¡¯s icy bitterness. ¡°He¡¯s been bitter for a long time. It doesn¡¯t excuse his behavior, but¡­ just know you¡¯re not the first he¡¯s treated like this.¡± She places a comforting hand on my shoulder, helping me out of the wheelchair and guiding me to the exam bed with a steady kindness. There¡¯s no judgment in her gaze, just quiet empathy, as though she can see the pain and confusion beneath my anger. I manage a small, grateful smile, the warmth of her presence a welcome relief after Garin¡¯s harshness. ¡°Thank you,¡± I murmur, barely holding myself together, and she offers me a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before she begins her work, her every movement filled with care and understanding. I manage a faint smile, grateful for her calm, steady presence. But then her eyes fall on my arms and lip, noticing the faint traces of blood still smeared across my skin. ¡°Is that¡­ from you?¡± she asks, concern flashing across her face. I hesitate, glancing at the streaks of blood on my skin, tracing where the IVs should have left marks. But there¡¯s nothing¡ªno pain, no wounds. It doesn¡¯t make sense. For a moment, I think I¡¯m imagining it. Then, his voice cuts through the haze in my mind, sharp and commanding, as if he¡¯s still standing over me. Some things are better left unsaid, Sol. They wouldn¡¯t understand. My stomach knots as I think of the bruises I should have, the cracked tooth that should be throbbing¡ªbut there¡¯s nothing. No sign of injury, just more questions I shove down deep, like everything else he left behind. ¡°I¡­ think I coughed it up,¡± I manage, hoping the vague answer will satisfy her and that she won¡¯t push any further. A flicker of worry crosses Dr. Yates¡¯s face, her gaze dropping to my chest as though something might be lurking inside. ¡°Alright,¡± she says gently. ¡°I¡¯ll run a few tests, just to be cautious. It could be something with your lungs.¡± She readies her equipment, her movements calm and precise, but I can sense the quiet concern underlying her actions.
As Dr. Yates begins with her tests and full-body scans, I sit motionless, watching the flickering lights of the machine as it hums around me. I¡¯m certain nothing will appear¡ªmy father would have made sure of that. He always covered his tracks. Whatever he¡¯d done to me, whatever enhancements or alterations lurked beneath my skin, they wouldn¡¯t show up on routine scans. He¡¯d been meticulous, obsessive. And I was certain he¡¯d buried his work deep, hidden from anyone who might try to look too closely. Dr. Yates glances at her monitor, her brow creasing with faint confusion as she scrolls through the results. ¡°Everything seems normal, Sol,¡± she says after a moment, her tone laced with relief. ¡°Your vitals are stable, and I¡¯m not seeing any abnormalities in your scans.¡± She pauses, her gaze lingering on me with a touch of curiosity. ¡°Though¡­ it is unusual, isn¡¯t it? The change in your hair, your skin, even your eye color.¡± Her voice is soft, more thoughtful than concerned. ¡°Sometimes cryo can have strange effects on the body. But this¡­¡± She trails off, an almost knowing look flickering in her eyes, as if she¡¯s heard whispers of something more, something darker. I catch the shift in her expression¡ªa flash of curiosity, maybe even suspicion¡ªbut it¡¯s softened by the warmth in her voice and movements. She¡¯s kind, not invasive, but the quiet interest in her gaze lingers. A part of me wants to explain, to give her something¡ªanything¡ªbut I know better. Some things are better left hidden. My father¡¯s voice echoes in my mind, heavy and unyielding. I feel the words I can¡¯t say building up inside me, a storm I want to release. The temptation to spill what little I know, to piece together the fragments of his work with someone who might actually understand, burns at the edges of my resolve. But I can¡¯t. I won¡¯t. Even with all my resentment, all the anger boiling inside me at what he turned me into, I can¡¯t betray his work. It¡¯s the only thing tethering me to him¡ªand to whatever I¡¯ve become. ¡°It must be the cryo,¡± I murmur finally, my voice barely steady as I watch her carefully for a reaction. Her curiosity dims, replaced by a gentle nod, though something thoughtful lingers behind her eyes. Dr. Yates¡¯s voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re all done here. Nothing unusual, but if you feel anything out of the ordinary, let us know right away,¡± she says, her tone calm but firm. Her soft smile feels genuine, like she wants to reassure me, though it barely scratches the surface of the unease crawling under my skin. ¡°Thank you,¡± I say softly, gripping the edges of the exam table as I slide off. My legs tremble beneath me, and I can tell she notices, but she doesn¡¯t push. Instead, she lingers a moment, watching me with concern. ¡°I¡¯ll grab you something to eat,¡± she offers. ¡°You¡¯ve been out of stasis for a while, and I¡¯m sure your body needs the energy.¡± As she steps out, the room falls into silence, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The weight of it all presses down¡ªmy father¡¯s legacy, the secrets he buried, and the twisted gift he left me. The pieces don¡¯t fit. They never have. And the harder I try to make sense of it, the worse it gets. What the fuck did you do to me, Dad? I try to push the thoughts away, but they swirl in my head like smoke, choking me with their weight. My fists clench, and before I can stop it, the tears spill over. My breath hitches, and I bury my face in my hands, the ache of everything I¡¯ve lost¡ªmy father, my old self, even the simple act of being ordinary¡ªcrashing over me. The door opens quietly, and I quickly wipe my face as Dr. Yates returns. Her gaze softens when she sees me, but she doesn¡¯t comment on my tears. Instead, she steps closer, a small package in her hands. ¡°Here,¡± she says gently, holding out a pre-packaged meal. ¡°You need to eat something after all this time.¡± The scent reaches me immediately¡ªwarm, savory, and rich¡ªand my stomach clenches with hunger I didn¡¯t realize I had. My hands tremble as I take it from her, and I murmur, ¡°Thank you.¡± Dr. Yates watches me as I tear into the package, her quiet presence grounding me. Each bite is a small comfort, a reminder that, even in this sterile and unfamiliar place, there are still traces of humanity. For a moment, the world feels a little less cold. ¡°Once you¡¯re done,¡± she says softly, her tone as kind as ever, ¡°I¡¯ll bring you some clothes and show you where you can shower. You don¡¯t have to stay in that hospital gown any longer than you need to.¡± The thought of a hot shower, real clothes¡ªanything to reclaim some semblance of normalcy¡ªeases the tight knot in my chest. ¡°Thank you, again... really,¡± I repeat, this time more earnestly. As I eat, I cling to that flicker of hope. It¡¯s small, almost fragile, but it¡¯s there, steadying me in this unfamiliar world. For now, it¡¯s enough to hold onto the promise of warmth, of humanity, and of taking one step forward, no matter how uncertain the path ahead might be. Chapter 3 : The Skeleton Crew The hot water scalds my skin, but I don¡¯t care. I stand under the spray, letting it batter my shoulders, washing away the grime, the blood, and the ache that¡¯s settled in my muscles¡ªand somewhere deeper, too. My hands press against the slick tile walls, nails scraping faint lines into the grout before the water erases them. The steam curls around me, thick and suffocating, but I cling to it. It feels safer than the cold, sterile air outside this tiny room. My hands shake as I run my fingers through my hair, untangling knots and rinsing away the soap. The strands feel wrong¡ªsilky smooth, unnaturally soft. And white. White. The sight of it under the harsh bathroom light churns my stomach. My hair wasn¡¯t like this before. My body wasn¡¯t like this before. None of me was like this before. What am I now? I scrub at my pale arms, harder than I need to, as if I can scrape away the wrongness. The soap lathers into a slick foam, sliding down into the drain. My fingers catch on the corner of the shower knob, cutting my hand¡ªthen I blink, and it¡¯s gone. The skin underneath is flawless, no scar, no blemish. Perfect. Too perfect. I drop the soap in the process, my stomach twisting violently. It¡¯s not normal. None of this is. I stare at my forearm, my breathing shallow. The pale skin glistens under the water, untouched, unmarked. Too smooth. Too perfect. My nails hover just above it, trembling, before I press them down sharply and drag. A deep line blooms red across my skin, pain flaring hot and immediate. Blood wells to the surface, running in thin rivulets down to my wrist. The sting is sharp, real¡ªand almost a relief. For a split second, it feels normal. Human. Then, as I watch, the blood slows. The edges of the wound knit together in small, jerking motions, like something alive is working beneath the surface. The pain doesn¡¯t fade entirely¡ªit dulls to a low throb, echoing in my bones¡ªbut the skin pulls closed. My stomach twists violently, bile rising in my throat. The blood that ran down my arm pools at my feet, wasted. I drag my nails down my forearm again, harder this time, the motion desperate. Pain flares, sharp and immediate, and a fresh bloom of blood follows. The sight is vivid, stark against my pale skin¡ªbut even as it runs red, the edges of the wound knit together in jerking, unnatural motions. The sting fades, leaving me lightheaded, my body weak. My stomach churns as the gnawing ache of hunger claws at me, sharp and relentless. It¡¯s costing me¡ªmy body is draining itself to keep me whole. I stumble back, clutching my arm as a cold wave washes over me. My legs feel weak, my head spinning. It¡¯s not normal. None of this is normal. It¡¯s wrong¡ªso profoundly, utterly wrong that the sight of my own skin makes me want to scream. The water pours over me, steaming and relentless, but I can¡¯t feel it anymore. All I feel is the cold knot of dread coiling tighter and tighter in my chest, the wrongness crawling under my skin, in my veins. I¡¯m not human anymore... I don¡¯t know what I am. A fractured sob escapes me, raw and broken, as the water streams down my face. The tiles seem to close in, the room shrinking, and I grip the wall like it¡¯s the only thing keeping me upright. My knees tremble, threatening to buckle. I press my forehead to the cool tile, trying to steady my breathing, but it only comes in short, ragged gasps. A memory flares behind my eyes¡ªhis face, sharp and urgent, lit by the flicker of gunfire outside. My father¡¯s hands, cold and trembling, as they pushed me into the pod. His voice, cutting through the chaos like a scalpel. Humanity¡¯s hope, he said. The words twist now, bitter and mocking, ricocheting around my skull. Hope for what, Dad? For this? For me? Another sob breaks loose, and I clutch my hair tightly, yanking until my scalp burns. The sharp pain grounds me for a fleeting moment, but it doesn¡¯t last. The strands slip through my fingers like silk, clinging to my wet shoulders, limp and lifeless. I don¡¯t even feel the water anymore¡ªjust the crushing weight pressing down on my chest. I glance at the fogged mirror through the steam, my vision blurring with tears. My crimson eye glares back at me, glowing faintly, a constant, mocking reminder of what I¡¯ve become. But just beside it, my one blue eye remains¡ªthe same soft blue as my father¡¯s. My heart twists painfully at the sight of it, grief surging like a tidal wave. For a moment, I let myself believe that the blue eye connects me to him somehow. That it¡¯s still me¡ªstill the daughter he believed in, not this¡­ thing. ¡°What did you do to me, Dad?¡± I whisper for the hundredth time, the words choking on a sob. My voice cracks, barely audible over the hiss of water. I grip the shallow sink beneath the mirror, its cold metal edge biting into my palms as water streams relentlessly over my shoulders. My nails scrape against the rim, slipping uselessly, and I feel the panic rising higher, impossible to contain. My chest tightens, and my breath comes in short, jagged gasps. The steam clings to me, thick and suffocating, wrapping around my body like a second skin. It crawls into my throat, heavy and choking, making it harder to breathe. I blink hard, trying to focus on the reflection, but my vision wavers. My doll like face stares back, perfect and undeniably not human, overwhelming everything else. Humanity¡¯s hope. My father¡¯s voice echoes in my mind, a sharp, cutting memory. The words spin faster and faster, louder and louder, until they drown out the rush of the water. I clutch the sink tighter, my knuckles aching, but it¡¯s not enough. The panic claws at my chest, relentless and unyielding. I close my eyes, desperate for relief, but the words don¡¯t stop. Hope for what, Dad? For this? For me? My breath catches, and I force my eyes open, meeting my reflection again. The crimson eye glows back at me, alien and unrelenting, but beside it, my single blue eye shines through the haze. Familiar. Steady. It¡¯s all I have left of him¡ªthe only part of me that still feels real. ¡°Get through today,¡± I whisper, my voice trembling as I cling to the sight of that blue eye. ¡°Just¡­ just today.¡± The words are shaky, but they anchor me, grounding me just enough to keep standing. The words barely hold. The thought feels hollow, fragile, but it¡¯s all I have. The tension in my chest doesn¡¯t ease. The wrongness doesn¡¯t leave. But I can¡¯t let myself break. Not here. Not yet. The ship is quiet¡ªtoo quiet. The only sound is the rhythmic slap of water on the tiles. No hum of machinery. No distant voices. Just me, alone, with the crushing silence pressing in like something alive. A flicker of movement catches the corner of my eye. I freeze, my chest tightening as my breath hitches painfully. Slowly, I turn my head toward the bathroom entrance, heart pounding harder with each agonizing second. Through the swirling steam, I see them¡ªtwo faint, glowing yellow orbs hovering just beyond the doorframe. It¡¯s tall, too tall to be human. They don¡¯t blink. They don¡¯t move. They just watch. My breath catches in my throat, the sound a soft, strangled gasp. My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else. Those eyes¡ªcold, inhuman, calculating¡ªare locked on me, fixed like a predator on prey. The steam shifts around them, coiling like smoke, but they don¡¯t waver. And then something moves. A shadow. Too tall, too thin, with long, unnaturally jointed limbs that jerk like a puppet¡¯s as it emerges slightly from the fog. A faint clicking sound cuts through the silence, almost insectile, and my stomach turns violently, bile rising in my throat. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± My voice is barely a whisper, trembling against the rush of the water. No answer. The shadow twitches again, the yellow eyes narrowing slightly. Its limbs jerk forward, not quite stepping, more like dragging through the thick steam. Their angles are all wrong¡ªsharp, broken¡ªand the sound of something wet dragging across the tiles sends a shiver down my spine. My stomach churns, and the oppressive sense of wrongness grows, heavy and suffocating. My heel slips on the wet tiles as I try to back away. The world tilts violently as I crash down, my head smacking against the edge of the stall. Pain explodes behind my eyes, sharp and blinding, and the taste of blood floods my mouth. I groan, clutching the back of my head, fingers finding slick warmth. The pain dulls almost immediately, a familiar pang of hunger twisting in my gut. My fingers brush over the wound, and I feel the skin knitting itself back together under my touch. Blood drips from my hair, trailing red streaks down my pale arms, but the gash is already gone. My breath hitches as I push myself up, my vision swimming. The monster is closer now. Too close. The yellow eyes burn like twin embers in the swirling steam, unblinking, locked on me. Its long limbs twitch, joints crackling unnaturally, and a clawed hand drags along the tile with a faint screech. My chest tightens like a vise, every nerve in my body screaming for me to run¡ªbut I can¡¯t move. The fear overtakes me, primal and overwhelming, and my body gives in to it. A warm wet rush spreads down my legs, mixing with the shower water pooling around me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The word pounds in my head like a drumbeat, frantic and useless. My chest tightens, my limbs lock in place, and I can¡¯t make myself move. Shame and terror burn through me, twisting together into a suffocating knot. Move! Do something! But I¡¯m too frozen, too scared, and the thought spirals, hollow and helpless. I squeeze my eyes shut, my fingers digging into the slick tiles as I gasp for breath, every muscle locked. The sharp pang of hunger twists deeper, gnawing at my insides, but I don¡¯t dare open my eyes. Seconds pass, stretching unbearably long. When I finally force myself to look, it¡¯s gone. The doorway is empty. The steam curls lazily, undisturbed. The faint hum of the ship returns, but the silence feels heavier than before, pressing down as if it wants to crush me. I blink, wiping at the blood smeared across my cheek with trembling hands. My legs won¡¯t stop shaking, and the memory of those yellow eyes burns at the edges of my vision, unrelenting. I push myself upright, clutching the edge of the stall for support. My damp hair clings to my neck, streaked faintly with blood, and the ache in my stomach sharpens with every breath. My body feels hollow, weak, as though fear itself is draining me. The creature¡ªit was there. It was. Wasn¡¯t it? I swallow hard, my chest tightening as I shuffle toward the doorway. Barefoot and naked, I hesitate at the threshold, the cold metal of the frame biting into my palm. My breath fogs in the chilled air as I peer into the corridor. It¡¯s quiet¡ªempty. I glance left, then right, heart pounding. Nothing. Way too fast, way too quiet. No way it could¡¯ve been human. I should¡¯ve heard something¡ªany sound, a footstep, a breath. But there¡¯s nothing. Just the low hum of the ship and the faint echoes of my ragged breathing. Shivering, I pull back into the bathroom, my chest heaving as the heavy silence presses in around me again. It wasn''t real? The thought sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me. My chest heaves as I stumble toward the sink, leaning heavily against the counter. The cold metal against my palms steadies me just enough to keep my knees from giving out. You saw it. You know you did. Or did I? The question gnaws at the edge of my mind, rising louder with every pounding beat of my heart. What did you do to me, Dad? My fingers tremble as I touch my arm, feeling the smooth, perfect skin where wounds should be. Am I losing it? The memory of the injection flashes behind my eyes¡ªhis trembling hands, his voice saying I was humanity¡¯s hope. Was this what he meant? The thought sends a cold wave through me, bile rising in my throat. If it¡¯s not real... if I imagined it... am I going insane? I sink back against the shower wall, the warm spray pounding against my shoulders. No, it wasn''t real. It couldn''t be. I hit my head too many times, that¡¯s all. My fingers press against my temple, gingerly tracing where the skin is smooth, no swelling, no blood. I should have a concussion¡ªor worse. I should be dizzy, weak, seeing stars. Instead, the only thing pounding in my head is fear. Fear, and the gnawing ache in my stomach. Hunger. The pain sharpens, twisting with every breath. I press a hand against my stomach as if I could stop it, but it only grows worse, clawing at me. It¡¯s not just healing... it¡¯s taking something from me every time. I force myself to glance into the mirror, only briefly this time, searching for something familiar. My reflection wavers in the fogged surface, distorted and alien. My crimson eye glows faintly, but my gaze skips over it quickly. Instead, I find the other one¡ªblue, steady. Human. My father¡¯s eye. It steadies me, if only for a moment. He gave this to me too, I think bitterly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Is this all I have left of you, Dad? A body I don¡¯t understand, a mind I¡¯m starting to lose, and a promise I don¡¯t even know how to keep? I close my eyes, gripping the edge of the sink as the water pours down over me. The pounding in my chest matches the rushing of the water, relentless. Maybe it¡¯s not real. Maybe it¡¯s the drug, or the head trauma. Maybe I just need rest, food. Something normal. But the memory of those eyes¡ªthose cold, unblinking yellow eyes¡ªstays vivid, cutting through every rational thought. What else did you do to me? My breathing hitches as I try to push the thought away. The warmth of the shower does nothing to ease the cold dread that clings to me. I feel hollow, disconnected, as though this body isn¡¯t my own. As though I¡¯m slipping away from myself with every second. ¡°I¡¯m not crazy,¡± I whisper, my voice trembling. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± But even as I say it, the words feel fragile, as though they could shatter under the weight of the truth. ¡°Sol?¡± Yates¡¯s voice cuts through the stillness, muffled but close. The sound jolts me, breaking the spell, and I exhale sharply. My legs are trembling, and my grip on the counter is so tight my knuckles ache. I force myself to move, stepping cautiously toward the door. ¡°Yeah?¡± I call out, my voice shaky as I push the bathroom door open again. The hallway is just as empty as before, the sterile lights casting long, unbroken shadows. But now Yates is there, her silhouette emerging from a few doors down, a bundle of folded clothes in her hands. Yates steps forward, holding a folded bundle of clothes. Her expression is calm but searching, her eyes flicking over me. ¡°I thought I heard something. Are you alright?¡± I hesitate, the words tangling in my throat. I could tell her. I could say something about what I saw¡ªor thought I saw. But what would I even say? That I¡¯m seeing things? That I¡¯m losing it? ¡°I slipped,¡± I say finally, gripping the towel tighter. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Yates doesn¡¯t seem convinced, but she nods and holds out the clothes. ¡°Here. They¡¯re temporary until we get you something better.¡± I take them with trembling hands, muttering, ¡°Thanks.¡± She lingers for a moment longer, her gaze flicking over my face like she¡¯s trying to read me. ¡°When you¡¯re ready, meet me in the hall. We¡¯ve got a lot to go over.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± I wait until she leaves before letting out a shaky breath. My legs feel weak as I lean against the door, staring down at the simple shorts and t-shirt in my hands. The normalcy of them feels almost absurd after what I just experienced. I dress quickly, trying to shake the unease crawling under my skin. The mirror catches my eye again, the steam clearing just enough to reveal my reflection. My crimson eye glows faintly in the dim light, and for a split second, I think I see movement in the corner of the frame. I spin around, my heart slamming against my ribs. But there¡¯s nothing there. Just shadows. Just silence. It¡¯s nothing, I tell myself, stepping into the hall. But the thought feels hollow. The memory of those golden eyes lingers, cold and unblinking, at the edge of my mind. And no matter how hard I try, I can¡¯t convince myself that I didn¡¯t see them.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The bathroom door hisses shut behind me, and the warmth of the shower gives way to the biting chill of the corridor. My bare feet hesitate on the cold, sterile floor for a moment before Yates steps forward, holding out a folded pressure suit and a pair of bright red flip-flops adorned with a floral pattern. ¡°Here,¡± she says, her tone calm but brisk. ¡°The suit¡¯s temporary, and these¡ª¡± she gestures to the flip-flops¡ª ¡°will keep you from looking like a bum.¡± I take the items with trembling hands, the pressure suit feeling heavier than I expect. My gaze falls to the flip-flops, the garish pattern catching me off guard. My shoulders sag, and I let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. ¡°Red flowers?¡± I mutter. Yates raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Best spare''s I''ve got. Take it or go barefoot.¡± I slide my feet into the flip-flops, the soles squeaking faintly as I shift my weight. ¡°Thanks,¡± I say, clutching the pressure suit against my chest, its fabric cool against my damp T-shirt and shorts. ¡°Feeling a little more human now?¡± she asks, her tone light. ¡°Something like that,¡± I manage, forcing a faint smile. The temporary clothes feel inadequate¡ªthin and clinging awkwardly to my damp skin¡ªbut they¡¯re still better than the gown. I shift the bundle in my arms, the fabric of the suit slipping slightly between my fingers as we walk. ¡°Good,¡± Yates says simply. ¡°The captain wants to meet you in the mess. Everyone¡¯s already there.¡± The knot in my stomach tightens at her words, but I nod. ¡°How many are awake?¡± ¡°Ten total,¡± Yates says, starting down the hall. ¡°That¡¯s including Jericho, the ship¡¯s AI. A skeleton crew.¡± The phrase sticks with me. Skeleton crew. It feels too fitting, like we¡¯re the bones of something much larger, stripped down and hollow. I glance at the narrow windows lining the corridor, each one offering a view into the cryo chambers. Frost clings to the glass, and I can just make out faint silhouettes inside¡ªthe rest of the ship¡¯s passengers, frozen in time. ¡°Why so few?¡± I ask, my voice quieter than I intended. ¡°Resources,¡± Yates replies. ¡°Food, water, air. The fewer people awake, the more we can conserve. Four teams rotate throughout the year¡ªA, B, C, and D. We handle three months awake, then back to cryo. Team B will take over after us, and so on.¡± I glance back toward the frosted windows. ¡°Do we ever meet them? The other teams?¡± ¡°Only during the switch,¡± Yates says. ¡°When one team comes out of cryo, the other goes in. It¡¯s brief¡ªjust enough time to hand off updates and get out of the pods.¡± Her voice is calm, steady, but the weight of her words sinks into my chest. I won¡¯t ever know most of the people aboard this ship. My world, for the foreseeable future, will be reduced to these halls and the people currently waiting for me in the mess. ¡°What do they all do?¡± I ask, desperate to pull my thoughts away from the isolation creeping in. Yates sighs lightly, then starts listing off names like she¡¯s reciting a roster. ¡°Captain Warren leads Team A and the ship as a whole. He¡¯s one of four captains, but this is his ship more than anyone else¡¯s. He keeps everything running, makes the hard calls. Respect him, and he¡¯ll respect you.¡± I swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest. ¡°What¡¯s he like?¡± ¡°Experienced,¡± she says after a moment. ¡°He¡¯s been on Jericho since launch, but before that, he served on Gorlion, the only ship to ever return to Earth after its fusion core began to fail. Warren¡¯s traveled further than any captain alive, and he¡¯s the one who decides what happens on this team. Stern but fair. Don¡¯t waste his time.¡± I nod, though my chest tightens further at the thought of facing him. ¡°And the others?¡± ¡°Lieutenant Commander Evelyn Vega,¡± Yates continues. ¡°She¡¯s the navigator and quartermaster. Second-in-command. She handles logistics, navigation, and planning¡ªanything that keeps the ship and crew functional. Calm, sharp, steady. You¡¯ll like her.¡± I cling to those words, hoping they hold some truth. ¡°Reid¡¯s the engineer,¡± Yates says next, her lips twitching slightly. ¡°Handles all the ship¡¯s systems and keeps it running. He¡¯s laid-back, a bit of a jokester, but he knows his stuff. You¡¯ll be training with him.¡± My chest eases slightly at her tone. It sounds like Reid might be the closest thing to a friendly face in this lineup. ¡°Holt handles security,¡± Yates says, her tone sharpening. ¡°Tactical and combat training. He¡¯s quiet, disciplined, and doesn¡¯t waste words. Don¡¯t expect him to go easy on you.¡± I glance at her, unsure whether to feel reassured or terrified. She doesn¡¯t elaborate. ¡°Garin is the lead scientist,¡± she continues, her voice tightening slightly. ¡°He specializes in physics, AI systems, and anything else technical. Brilliant, but¡­ abrasive. Don¡¯t take it personally.¡± I grimace. That¡¯s going to be hard. ¡°Jimmy¡¯s the general laborer,¡± Yates adds. ¡°He helps Reid with mechanical repairs, handles manual tasks. He¡¯s young, eager to prove himself, but¡­ well, he¡¯s impressionable. Spends too much time around Garin.¡± I frown, not liking the sound of that. I count in my head. Warren, Vega, Reid, Holt, Garin, Jimmy. That¡¯s six. Plus Yates and me. Eight. Nine, counting Jericho. ¡°And who¡¯s the last?¡± I ask. ¡°Ashly,¡± Yates says, her voice softening slightly. ¡°She¡¯s one of the science team. Works under Garin, specializes in biology and genetics. Quiet, kind, but¡­ she keeps to herself. For good reason.¡± The unspoken meaning hangs heavy in the air between us, a weight I don¡¯t want to disturb. I don¡¯t press further, though my mind lingers on the way Yates said it¡ªcareful, almost protective. It doesn¡¯t take much to guess that Garin isn¡¯t exactly easy to work with. His sharp demeanor makes that clear enough. Yates glances at me, perhaps sensing my hesitation. ¡°Ashly and Jimmy are the youngest on the crew. They prefer to go by their first names¡ªkeeps things a little more casual for them. Everyone else sticks to last names. It¡¯s just¡­ how it¡¯s always been.¡± I nod slowly, the distinction settling into place. It makes sense now¡ªwhy their names were softer in tone when spoken. There¡¯s something different about being called by your first name out here, a faint tether to the person you were before you boarded this ship. It¡¯s less formal, maybe even a little comforting. I can¡¯t help wondering if it¡¯s something they cling to, surrounded by people who wear their roles like armor. ¡°And Jericho?¡± I ask, glancing at the walls around us. ¡°The ship¡¯s AI,¡± Yates says simply. ¡°Handles navigation, inventory, and diagnostics. It¡¯s a tool, nothing more.¡± Her tone leaves no room for debate, but I can¡¯t help feeling like there¡¯s more to it than she¡¯s letting on. I hesitate, my grip tightening on the suit in my arms. ¡°Why am I awake?¡± Yates stops, turning to face me. Her gaze softens slightly, but her voice remains firm. ¡°That¡¯s for the captain to explain. He¡¯ll tell you everything you need to know.¡± I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. The weight of her words doesn¡¯t ease the twisting in my stomach, but I force myself to move forward when she gestures down the hall. ¡°Just listen,¡± she says, her tone gentler now. ¡°And be respectful. Warren¡¯s a good man, but he¡¯s got a lot on his shoulders. We all do.¡± Her words settle uneasily in my chest, but I nod again. ¡°Okay.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Yates says, turning away. ¡°Come on. They¡¯re waiting.¡± The mess hall door hisses open, and I step inside, the knot in my stomach tightening as six heads swivel toward me¡ªthough Garin doesn¡¯t even glance up from his cards. The air is warmer here, tinged with the faint smell of coffee, and something heavier¡ªlike yeast or beer. I pause just inside, gripping the temporary pressure suit tighter against my chest as the door slides shut behind me, sealing me in with the skeleton crew of Jericho. Two gazes linger on me longer than the others. I can only assume they¡¯re Jimmy and Reid from Yates¡¯s descriptions. Reid¡¯s grin widens slightly, his mirrored sunglasses doing little to hide the way his gaze sweeps over me¡ªmy damp T-shirt clinging to my skin, the shorts leaving my legs bare. Jimmy¡¯s eyes flicker over me briefly, less overt, but still noticeable. It¡¯s not outright hostility or judgment, but there¡¯s something there that makes my skin prickle. Scrutiny, maybe. Or something else. I shift uncomfortably under their attention, my arms tightening around the bundle of the pressure suit. The fabric feels heavier now, more like a shield than just something I¡¯m carrying. The others, at least, return quickly to what they were doing, their brief glances devoid of the same lingering weight. The room is larger than I expected, with clean, metallic walls reflecting the stark overhead lighting. There are hints of humanity tucked in the corners: a coffee pot gurgling softly on a counter, faded posters of Earth¡¯s oceans and mountains, and a scuffed deck of cards spread across the center table. The sight of them gathered here¡ªmoving, talking, living¡ªmakes the ship feel a little less like a tomb. Yates steps in behind me, nodding toward the room. ¡°This is our team.¡± I follow her gesture, my eyes darting to the nearest group. Reid is the first one I notice, leaning back in his chair with a grin as he shuffles the deck of cards. He¡¯s short and stocky, with messy blond hair sticking out from under a pair of mirrored sunglasses that seem absurdly out of place under the harsh lighting. His Hawaiian shirt¡ªloud and clashing¡ªis unbuttoned just enough to reveal the black pressure suit beneath, clinging to his barrel-shaped torso. ¡°Beer or coffee, Garin? Both?¡± Reid¡¯s voice is light, almost playful, as he slides a mug and a bottle across the table toward the man sitting next to him. Garin doesn¡¯t answer immediately, his pale fingers adjusting the cuffs of his pristine lab coat. His dark hair is slicked back, every strand meticulously in place, and his sharp features are set in a look of irritation that feels permanent. Even the way he sits¡ªstraight-backed, arms folded¡ªscreams arrogance. ¡°Neither,¡± he replies coolly, though he pushes the mug toward Ashly without looking at her. ¡°Take it. You look like you need it.¡± Ashly¡¯s fingers curl around the mug hesitantly. She¡¯s small, barely taller than me, with delicate features and dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. The oversized lab coat she wears seems to swallow her frame, and when she glances at me, there¡¯s a flicker of something kind in her expression. But it fades quickly as Garin¡¯s gaze darts her way, sharp and cutting. She lowers her head, her shoulders hunching inward. The fourth figure at the table, Jimmy, looks up from his hand of cards. He¡¯s younger than the rest, maybe early twenties, with brown hair tied into a messy man bun and faint circles under his eyes. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, but there¡¯s a stiffness to him that doesn¡¯t match his casual posture. He glances at me briefly, his expression unreadable, before his eyes dart back to Garin as if seeking approval. ¡°That¡¯s our science team,¡± Yates murmurs beside me. ¡°Garin, Ashly, and Jimmy. Physics, biology, and the grunt work.¡± Reid deals a card to Garin, who doesn¡¯t even look at it, then glances over his shoulder at me. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the new kid, right? Beer¡¯s terrible, but it¡¯s better than the coffee.¡± ¡°Reid,¡± Yates warns, her tone sharp. ¡°What?¡± He holds up his hands in mock innocence, the cards still fanned between his fingers. ¡°Just trying to be welcoming.¡± ¡°Stick to cards,¡± she replies curtly, leading me further into the room. At the far end of the hall, two figures stand hunched over a glowing console embedded in the table. A hovering drone buzzes between them, projecting a translucent map of the quadrant. The woman¡ªVega, I guess¡ªis focused on the display, her short dark hair streaked with gray catching the light as she tilts her head. She wears a navy jacket over her black pressure suit, the silver insignia on her collar marking her as someone important. Her hazel eyes flick between the map and the hovering drone with sharp precision, her lips moving as she mutters something too low to hear. Beside her stands the captain. Captain Warren doesn¡¯t look up immediately, his dark brows furrowed as he consults the display. His black hair, peppered with gray, is cropped short, and his beard¡ªmore gray than black¡ªframes a face lined with experience. He¡¯s tall, his broad frame filling out the leather jacket that drapes over his pressure suit. There¡¯s an intensity to him, even in this moment of quiet focus, as if every thought is calculated, deliberate. He gestures toward the drone, and it flickers slightly, the map shifting in response. ¡°That¡¯s Jericho,¡± Yates whispers, nodding toward the drone. My stomach twists. The AI. I¡¯d known my father had worked on artificial intelligence, but seeing it in action¡ªits cold efficiency, its unblinking presence¡ªmakes my skin crawl. Warren finally looks up, his eyes locking onto me with a weight that¡¯s impossible to ignore. His gaze is sharp, assessing, but not unkind. He straightens, the quiet authority in his posture filling the room. ¡°Voss,¡± he says simply. His voice is deep, steady, carrying an unspoken expectation of obedience. ¡°Come here.¡± I move forward on shaky legs, my grip tightening on the suit in my arms. As I approach the table, the rest of the crew begins to shift, their attention turning toward me fully. Vega steps aside, her gaze meeting mine briefly. There¡¯s something almost reassuring in her calm demeanor, though she doesn¡¯t offer a smile. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick,¡± Warren says, his tone leaving no room for argument. He glances around the room, addressing the crew as much as me. ¡°This is Sol Voss. She¡¯s the newest member of Team A. You¡¯ll train her in your fields as needed. You all know what that entails.¡± He looks back at me. ¡°Reid, chief engineer. Keeps the ship running.¡± Reid raises his beer bottle in a mock toast. ¡°I¡¯ll go easy on you, kid.¡± Warren¡¯s brow furrows slightly, but he continues. ¡°Lieutenant Holt, security and combat training.¡± My eyes flick to the tall man standing near the corner, quietly assembling the pieces of a sleek black firearm. Holt is clean-shaven, his dark eyes sharp and unflinching. He doesn¡¯t acknowledge me beyond a slight nod, his attention already back on his work. ¡°Lieutenant Commander Vega, navigator and quartermaster,¡± Warren says, gesturing to the woman beside him. ¡°Welcome aboard,¡± Vega says, her voice steady and professional. Her hazel eyes meet mine again, and for a moment, the knot in my stomach loosens. ¡°Yates, medical and counseling,¡± Warren continues, nodding toward her. ¡°We¡¯ll get you sorted,¡± Yates says reassuringly. ¡°Garin, lead scientist,¡± Warren says, his tone hardening slightly. ¡°Ashly, biology and genetics specialist and his assistant.¡± Ashly offers a timid nod, her hands wrapped tightly around the coffee mug in front of her. She looks like she¡¯d rather disappear than meet my eyes. Garin doesn¡¯t bother looking at me, his attention fixed on his cards. ¡°Jimmy, general labor and our mechanic,¡± Warren finishes. Jimmy glances up briefly, his expression unreadable, then looks away just as quickly. Warren¡¯s gaze returns to me, his expression unreadable. ¡°For now, listen, learn, and don¡¯t waste anyone¡¯s time. Understood?¡± I nod quickly. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Warren says, turning back to the glowing display. The drone hovering above him adjusts its projection, the map shifting slightly. ¡°We¡¯ll start with the basics tomorrow. For now, get settled and get the pressure suit fitted. It¡¯s critical you wear it at all times when on duty¡ªif we lose pressure, it can save your life.¡± I nod, clutching the suit tighter against my chest. I know that already. My dad had been one of the engineers behind the pressure suit¡¯s design¡ªa revolutionary nano-weave packed with life support systems, climate control, and armor. Its auto-deploying helmet had been the innovation that saved countless lives in the vacuum of space. But that¡¯s not the question burning in my mind. My throat feels dry as I glance toward the other crew members, all of them returning to their tasks. My gaze shifts back to Warren, his focus already back on the map. I take a shaky breath and step closer. ¡°Sir?¡± My voice feels small in the vast room, but it¡¯s enough to make him look at me again. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Why¡­¡± I hesitate, my grip tightening on the suit. ¡°Why did you wake me up? Out of all the people in cryo, why me?¡± The room falls still for a moment. Even the faint clink of Holt assembling his weapon halts briefly before resuming at a slower pace. Warren¡¯s sharp eyes lock onto mine, and for a heartbeat, I regret asking. But then he leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. ¡°I figured you¡¯d want to know sooner rather than later,¡± he says, his tone steady. ¡°Yates didn¡¯t tell you?¡± ¡°She¡­ she mentioned the rotation,¡± I say quickly, ¡°and conserving resources. But¡­ why me? Specifically?¡± Warren exhales through his nose, glancing briefly at Vega. She steps back, giving him space to speak but staying close enough to listen. The other crew members seem to tune out the conversation, though I can feel the weight of a few curious gazes lingering. ¡°Our last general laborer died last cycle,¡± Warren says plainly, his voice low but unwavering. ¡°Accident during a repair. We had no choice but to redistribute his duties among the team. That worked for a while, but it stretched us thin. When it came time to wake the next rotation, we needed someone who could cover gaps without pulling specialists from their rotations.¡± He pauses, letting that sink in before continuing. ¡°You¡¯re young. You¡¯ve got potential. And frankly, your presence was the logical choice. You can train across fields¡ªengineering, manual repair, science support, even combat if necessary. That versatility is invaluable out here.¡± I nod slowly, though my stomach churns. He makes it sound practical¡ªlogical. But it still doesn¡¯t answer the bigger question. ¡°Why wake me so early? Hundreds of years before we¡¯re due at Haven?¡± Warren¡¯s expression softens slightly, but his tone remains firm. ¡°This isn¡¯t Earth, Sol. We¡¯re not in a position to hand out free rides. Cryo pods are a privilege, one you¡¯ll need to earn. If you serve your ten years¡ªbiologically speaking¡ªyou¡¯ll more than pay for your place on this ship. Forty years may sound like a lot, but you¡¯ll be awake for less than a quarter of that. And when it¡¯s done, you¡¯ll have real experience to show for it.¡± My chest tightens, the weight of his words pressing down on me. ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not an option,¡± he says bluntly. ¡°We¡¯re all here to do our part. This ship doesn¡¯t run on good intentions¡ªit runs on discipline, effort, and sacrifice. Your father understood that.¡± His mention of my dad stirs something raw in me. ¡°My father?¡± Warren nods, his gaze steady and unwavering. ¡°Dr. Julian Voss was a great man. His work on AI systems, pressure suits, cryo stabilization¡ªhell, the very FTL drive that powers Jericho¡ªchanged the game for all of us. He was one of the lead architects of this ship, Sol. Without him, Jericho wouldn¡¯t even exist.¡± His voice deepens, filled with a personal weight. ¡°Your father didn¡¯t just design technology; he pioneered the future. Cybernetic enhancements, gene editing¡ªthose projects weren¡¯t just theoretical. The gene editing, in particular, saved this mission before it even began. It allowed us to survive the extremes of cryo¡ªstabilized the body, reduced cellular degradation. Without it, half the people on this ship wouldn¡¯t have made it through the first cycle.¡± He leans forward slightly, his voice softening. ¡°And that¡¯s not all. His work extended far beyond survival. That gene therapy also slowed aging. Not by a little¡ªby almost half. The people on this ship are living proof of his legacy. Generations ago, we would¡¯ve needed thousands of crew to make this journey. Now, with extended lifespans and cryo rotations, fewer people can go further, longer.¡± Warren¡¯s tone grows heavier. ¡°He believed in humanity¡¯s survival, Sol. But more than that, he believed in you. He spoke of you often¡ªalways with pride. To him, you weren¡¯t just his daughter. You were the future, the bridge between everything he worked for and everything we¡¯re striving toward.¡± I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to go away. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what he wanted from me. He didn¡¯t tell me¡ªhe just¡­¡± My words trail off, the memory of his hands shoving me into the pod, his voice saying humanity¡¯s hope, cutting through the haze. Warren leans forward slightly, his voice softening. ¡°You don¡¯t have to figure it all out now. But if you want to honor his legacy, start by pulling your weight here. Prove to yourself¡ªand to the rest of this crew¡ªthat you¡¯re more than just Julian Voss¡¯s daughter.¡± I nod, though the weight in my chest doesn¡¯t ease. His words are pragmatic, even encouraging, but they still leave me feeling hollow. Like a cog in a machine, expected to turn without question. ¡°Jericho¡¯s been on autopilot for decades,¡± Warren continues, gesturing toward the drone hovering near the map. ¡°The AI handles most of the ship¡¯s systems. But now, we¡¯re entering uncharted space¡ªbeyond the last transmissions from the earlier colony ships. This is the frontier, Sol. We need everyone at their best. That includes the Princess of Humanity.¡± His words catch me off guard, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. For a fleeting moment, the strict, no-nonsense captain lets something softer slip through. He winks¡ªquick, subtle, but undeniably there. I blink, momentarily disarmed. It¡¯s the first sign I¡¯ve seen that he isn¡¯t all business, a crack in the polished armor of authority. But the weight of his words still presses on me, heavier than the smirk can lift. I glance at the drone, its glowing blue sensors flickering as it processes some unseen command. My stomach twists again, the sight of it sending a shiver down my spine. My father¡¯s work. His legacy. And now, apparently, mine. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
¡°Now, off you go,¡± Warren says, his gaze returning to the glowing map on the table. He straightens his posture, his hands clasping behind his back as he shifts his focus to the drone hovering above. His tone is firm but not unkind, the faintest hint of finality edging his words. ¡°You¡¯ve got what you need for now. Get settled. Tomorrow, your new life starts.¡± He doesn¡¯t look at her again, already immersed in the map¡¯s shifting data and issuing quiet commands to Jericho. It¡¯s clear he¡¯s done with the conversation, his attention back on the task at hand, leaving no room for further questions. I nod again, clutching the suit tighter as Yates steps forward to guide me out of the room. My thoughts swirl as we leave the mess, the door sliding shut behind us with a soft hiss. I don¡¯t look back at the crew, though their faces¡ªsome curious, some indifferent, some downright cold¡ªlinger in my mind. But more than any of them, it¡¯s Warren¡¯s words that echo in my thoughts. Honor his legacy. Prove yourself. And beneath it all, the memory of those glowing yellow eyes, unblinking and inhuman, waits at the edge of my mind like a shadow I can¡¯t escape. Chapter 4 : The Silent Warning
The corridor stretches in eerie silence as I follow Yates, my footsteps soft against the metallic floor. Every shadow feels sharper, every corner darker. I glance over my shoulder again, half-expecting¡ªwhat? I don¡¯t even know. My pulse quickens, the hum of the ship¡¯s systems doing little to soothe the unease crawling up my spine. I linger on the next shadowed corner, my mind conjuring those eyes¡ªsharp, predatory, glowing yellow. The memory sends a shiver through me, and I clench my fists to keep steady. ¡°You should eat,¡± Yates says gently, breaking the silence. She hands me a pre-packaged meal, her expression kind but searching. ¡°It¡¯ll help. Cryo takes a toll.¡± I take the package, clutching it tightly as we round another bend. My gaze flicks to the walls, the faint glow of overhead lights, the corners where shadows pool. Every creak in the walls makes my breath hitch. ¡°Reid will stop by later to calibrate your suit,¡± Yates continues, her tone steady. ¡°He can be a bit much, but he¡¯s good at what he does. Just¡­ try to get settled.¡± I nod mechanically, my grip tightening on the package. A part of me wants to ask if she¡¯s seen anything strange¡ªif she¡¯s seen them¡ªbut the thought knots my stomach. What if she thinks I¡¯m losing it? Even with her kindness, the fear of what she might see in me keeps me silent. The last thing I need is for her to think I¡¯ve lost my mind. Yates pauses at a door marked with an ID plate: Voss, S. My chest tightens at the sight of it. My father¡¯s name, my name, now stamped on a room I barely recognize as mine. Yates presses the panel, and the door hisses open. Inside, the room is small but functional, the sterile walls lit by a soft, dim glow. A narrow cot sits against one wall, and a desk is built into the other, a sleek monitor embedded into its surface. ¡°This is yours,¡± Yates says, stepping aside. Her voice softens further as she adds, ¡°If you need anything, Jericho can help. Or¡­ you can ask me.¡± She gives me a small, reassuring smile, one that feels almost too genuine for this cold, hollow place. I hesitate in the doorway, my fingers tightening on the edge of the meal package. My eyes flick to the corners of the room, half-expecting to see something lurking there, crouched in the dark. ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmur, though the word feels hollow. Her kindness only makes the knot in my chest tighten. If she knew what I¡¯d seen¡ªwhat I think I¡¯ve seen¡ªwould she look at me the same way? Yates nods, seeming to sense my unease. ¡°Get some rest, okay? You¡¯ve been through a lot. Take care of yourself, Sol.¡± Without another word, she turns and disappears down the hall, her footsteps fading into the distance. The room feels cold, quieter than I like. I set the food on the desk and glance at the monitor. As the door slides shut behind me, a voice crackles softly to life. ¡°Previous occupant: Wilks. Status: Expired. New occupant: Sol Voss.¡± The mechanical precision of Jericho¡¯s voice sends a shiver down my spine. The word ¡°expired¡± lingers unnaturally in the air, like an echo that refuses to fade. My stomach churns, but I shake my head, trying to push the unease away. ¡°Great,¡± I mutter dryly. The AI doesn¡¯t respond. I move toward the cot, my eyes skimming the sparse room. The space is clean¡ªtoo clean. No trace of the previous occupant remains except for the faint scent of disinfectant that clings to the air. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my legs feeling weak beneath me. The cot creaks faintly under my weight, its surface stiff and unfamiliar. My hand brushes against the pillow, and I freeze. Something hard presses beneath the fabric, sharp against my fingertips. Slowly, I lift the pillow. Beneath it lies a photograph, its edges worn and slightly curled. My breath hitches as I pick it up, the cool surface of the paper sending a chill through me. The image shows a group of people, their faces turned toward the camera. My father stands at the center, his familiar sharp features softened by a faint smile. Beside him is a dark-skinned man I vaguely recognize. My chest sinks as I realize it¡¯s Wilks. I¡¯ve seen him before, in the lab when I was younger, though his name hadn¡¯t meant much to me back then. The rest of the group¡ªGarin, Ashly, and a few others¡ªare arranged around them, their expressions a mix of determination and weariness, the weight of their work evident in their tired eyes. But one face is scratched out. Deep, jagged lines mar the photo, obliterating the features of the woman standing near my father. My chest tightens as I stare at the violent defacement, the scratch marks uneven, as though carved in desperation. It doesn¡¯t make sense¡ªwhy deface just one face, and so aggressively? My fingers hover over the image, tracing the damaged surface. A chill creeps through me as something about the silhouette catches my eye. The curve of the shoulders, the way her stance mirrors her focus¡ªit feels familiar. Too familiar. My mind races, dredging up a fragmented memory. I know this figure. Or¡­ I think I do. Knight. The thought strikes like a thunderclap, sharp and undeniable. Dr. Knight¡ªmy father¡¯s assistant, his prot¨¦g¨¦, the one who was always by his side. I¡¯d admired her once, drawn to the way she seemed larger than life in my younger eyes¡ªher almond-shaped eyes, her unnervingly perfect features, enhanced in ways that made her seem almost otherworldly. But now, the memory carries an edge of unease, tainted by a growing suspicion. Why would her face be the one scratched out? And why with such anger? I stare at the photo, my pulse quickening. The jagged lines over her face feel less like an act of vandalism and more like a warning. But from whom? And why? My father¡¯s faint smile mocks me from the center of the image, as if he¡¯s keeping the answers just out of reach. My fingers tremble as I turn the photo over, my heart pounding. The back is marked with hurried, uneven handwriting, as though the writer had been shaking when they scrawled the words: I¡¯m so sorry for what we have done. Nature never meant for anything to live forever, let alone become¡­ this. Lab 3 must stay sealed. Live your life. The horrors in Lab 3 should be forgotten. Evolution is better left to nature and god. Abandon your father¡¯s legacy¡ªI beg you. The words hit me like a cold wave, each phrase heavier than the last. The plea to abandon my father¡¯s legacy twists in my chest, raw and cutting. His face in the photo seems to mock me, his faint smile a haunting reminder of everything I don¡¯t understand. My thoughts race. Lab 3. What horrors? What did they do in there? And why would someone want me to forget my father¡¯s work? The questions churn, unanswered, as I clutch the note tightly.
A sharp knock at the door jolts me, and I shove the photo and note under the pillow, my breath quickening as I turn toward the sound. ¡°Hey, you in there?¡± Reid¡¯s voice calls through the door, light and easy. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to barge in. Figured I¡¯d give you a minute.¡± I exhale shakily, pushing myself to my feet. My heart still hasn¡¯t settled after finding the photo. I press the panel, and the door slides open to reveal Reid, holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and a small flask in the other. His grin is wide, disarming, and a little too confident. The mirrored sunglasses reflect my startled expression right back at me. ¡°Brought a housewarming gift,¡± he says, lifting the beer with a crooked grin. ¡°And this right here?¡± He waves the flask like it¡¯s some grand treasure. ¡°Our very own moonshine. Made with love and questionable decisions. Don¡¯t tell the captain.¡± I blink, trying to match his easy demeanor. ¡°Thanks,¡± I manage, stepping aside to let him in. My pulse is still racing, but I force myself to act normal. Reid strolls in like he owns the place, his gaze sweeping over the room. ¡°Not bad. It¡¯s a lot cleaner than my place,¡± he says, setting the beer on the desk. His eyes flick to the cot, and he smirks. ¡°Stiff as hell, though. But you get used to it. Or you don¡¯t. Either way, beer helps.¡±
It¡¯s only now, standing this close, that I really notice him. The mirrored sunglasses catch the light, and for a moment, I see my own reflection again staring back¡ªwide-eyed and disheveled. It throws me off balance. Beneath the glasses and the ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, though, I notice something else. His face is rugged, the kind of handsome that sneaks up on you when you¡¯re not expecting it. Dirty blonde hair falls in uneven waves over his forehead, and a faint five o¡¯clock shadow frames his jawline, adding a roughness that somehow fits him. He¡¯s heavier than I thought, broad across the chest and shoulders, but it suits him, giving him a solidness that feels oddly reassuring. He hands me a beer, and I take it without thinking, the cold metal grounding me. ¡°Beer helps,¡± I echo, my voice more flat than I intended. His smirk softens slightly as he leans against the desk, the bright print of his shirt clashing hilariously with the sleek black pressure suit underneath. It¡¯s ridiculous, but somehow, it works. He is in his early 30s, I guess, though with how long people can live now, who knows? He carries himself like someone who¡¯s lived through enough to earn that swagger, like the universe threw its worst at him and he laughed it off. That grin of his¡ªhalf confidence, half trouble¡ªis as disarming as it is irritating. ¡°Trust me,¡± he says, cracking open a beer and taking a sip. ¡°This stuff¡¯s the only way to survive a place like this.¡± I almost laugh. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s the promise of beer or the easy confidence in his voice, but for a second, the weight pressing on my chest feels a little lighter. I let out a faint laugh, though it doesn¡¯t quite reach my eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± ¡°Welcome aboard,¡± he says with a grin, raising his beer in a casual toast. I hesitate, then take a small sip. The bitterness makes me grimace, but the warmth that follows spreads quickly, unexpected and oddly soothing. It¡¯s a small comfort I hadn¡¯t realized I needed. ¡°So,¡± he says, leaning against the desk, his grin as steady as ever, ¡°how¡¯s your first day back from the dead?¡± I snort softly, swirling the can in my hands. ¡°I¡¯d give it about two stars so far. The accommodations are... well shit, the food¡¯s terrible, and the company¡¯s¡­¡± I glance at him, the faintest smile tugging at my lips. ¡°Well, jury¡¯s still out.¡± He chuckles, tipping his drink toward me. ¡°Fair enough. Gotta say, you¡¯re handling it better than most would.¡± I shrug, but the photo and note sit like a weight in my chest. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a lot,¡± I admit, taking another sip to buy a moment. The beer doesn¡¯t taste any better the second time, but at least it gives my hands something to do. ¡°Still trying to figure out which way is up.¡± ¡°Yeah, I bet.¡± Reid leans back against the desk, watching me over the rim of his beer. ¡°Hell of a thing, waking up here. Especially after that long in cryo.¡± I glance at him, unsure how to respond. His grin softens as he gestures vaguely toward me with the flask of moonshine. ¡°But hey, you came out okay. I¡¯ve seen cryo mess people up the first time they go under. Waking up wrong, stuff out of alignment¡­ Let¡¯s just say I¡¯ve seen better outcomes.¡± The way he says it makes my stomach twist, though his tone stays light. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®better outcomes¡¯?¡± He shrugs, taking a long drink before answering. ¡°Most people are fine, but sometimes¡­ things go sideways. Muscle degradation, memory gaps, personality shifts. And that¡¯s just the physical stuff. Doesn¡¯t happen often, but when it does? It¡¯s bad.¡± I sit with that for a moment, unsure whether to feel lucky or more unnerved. ¡°And someone is just telling me this now?¡± His grin returns, lopsided and a little too confident. ¡°You¡¯re fine, Princess. Trust me, I¡¯d tell you if I thought you were about to fall apart. Besides, I¡¯m more impressed than anything. You¡¯ve been through a lot, and you¡¯re still standing. Cryo¡¯s not for everyone, but you¡­¡± He gestures again, this time toward my hair. ¡°Hell, even the white hair works. Adds to the whole ¡®larger than life¡¯ thing you¡¯ve got going.¡± I snort softly ignoring the nickname, looking away as heat creeps up my neck. ¡°Glad I pass inspection.¡± ¡°Oh, definitely,¡± he says, taking another swig. ¡°Still, gotta admit I was a little worried about you waking up here.¡± ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± I ask, keeping my voice light even as the weight in my chest presses harder. ¡°Jericho¡¯s not exactly what I¡¯d call a smooth ride. Lots of history here, and not all of it¡¯s pretty.¡± I frown, the teasing edge in his voice replaced by something heavier. ¡°History? What kind of history?¡± Reid hesitates, his gaze dropping to the beer in his hands. ¡°You know how it is on these ships. Old stories, strange accidents¡­ Every colony ship¡¯s got its share of ghosts. Jericho¡¯s no different.¡± ¡°Ghosts,¡± I echo, forcing a small laugh. ¡°What, is this place haunted or something?¡± He chuckles, though it sounds forced. ¡°Something like that.¡± I take another sip, my mind racing. His tone sets me on edge, and before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. ¡°Like Lab 3?¡± Reid freezes mid-sip, his brow furrowing slightly. The easy grin fades as he lowers the flask. ¡°Lab 3, huh?¡± He studies me for a moment, his voice quieter now. ¡°That¡¯s a hell of a place to start.¡± I force myself to hold his gaze. ¡°I found a photo,¡± I say, keeping my voice steady. ¡°It was under the pillow. Someone scratched out one of the faces. Do you know who it was?¡±
For a moment, he just stares at me, his expression unreadable. Then he lets out a low whistle, setting the beer and flask down. ¡°Damn. That was probably Wilks¡¯s photo. This was his room before¡­ well, you know. Thought Jimmy was supposed to clear it out.¡± He shakes his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°Kid¡¯s got a real knack for half-assing things. Figures he¡¯d miss something like that.¡± ¡°Wilks,¡± I repeat, the name twisting something deep in my stomach. ¡°Yeah.¡± He crosses his arms, his tone softening just slightly. ¡°Smart guy. Worked with your old man back when this ship was shiny and new. One of the original science team.¡± ¡°When was the photo taken?¡± I press. ¡°First few months after takeoff. All the science teams were awake back then. They were working on something big.¡± He hesitates, his grin fading a little. ¡°After that, they rotated into cryo.¡± ¡°But not my father,¡± I say quietly. ¡°No,¡± he admits. ¡°Your dad went under with the rest about a year in, but his pod malfunctioned. He never woke up.¡± His voice dips, almost apologetic. ¡°Cryo¡¯s tricky. The first freeze is always the riskiest¡ªsome people just don¡¯t take to it, and you don¡¯t know until you try. Most of us were tested before this trip. Your dad wasn¡¯t. Guess they thought it was worth the gamble, given who he was.¡± I frown, the weight of his words settling over me. ¡°And when his pod failed?¡± ¡°They had to reshuffle everything,¡± Reid explains, his voice quieter now. ¡°The captains held a meeting¡ªthe first wake cycle¡ªsince they were the only ones conscious at the time. They decided to wake Knight from deep cryo on the colony ship to take over Garin''s place on B-Team. And Garin got bumped up to head scientist and lead on A-Team.¡± ¡°Garin?¡± The name tastes bitter in my mouth. ¡°Yeah. That one surprised everyone,¡± Reid says with a short laugh. ¡°Most people thought Knight would step in as lead scientist, but the captains voted Garin in. Three out of four, and Warren was one of them.¡± ¡°When?¡± I press, narrowing my eyes. Reid hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°It was the first time for the captains, but the crew didn¡¯t find out until the second time everyone was awake together, about 25 years in. First was launch, then the captains woke to deal with your dad¡¯s pod failure a year into the trip. They handled that on their own. The second time the crew was all up was for major ship repairs¡ª25 years in. And the last time? Just recently. About a year ago.¡± ¡°What happened during that last wake cycle?¡± I ask, the unease in my chest deepening. Reid¡¯s grin falters, his usual levity dimmed. ¡°Wilks died,¡± he says flatly. ¡°About a year back, just before we went under again. Big confusion after that. The science teams were all there, but¡­¡± He trails off, his tone shifting to something more cautious. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, whatever happened in Lab 3, they¡¯re tight-lipped about it.¡± ¡°Lab 3,¡± I echo, my voice barely a whisper. Reid leans forward, lowering his voice like he¡¯s sharing a secret. ¡°The captains kept it hush-hush. Even I don¡¯t know the full story, and I usually hear everything. All I know is that something went wrong, and no one¡¯s been inside Lab 3 since. Garin, Knight, and Ashly were there originally, part of the team when it happened. Whatever they saw or did¡­ well, they¡¯re not talking.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they talk?¡± I ask, my pulse quickening. The way he says it makes it sound deliberate, like they¡¯re keeping something terrible to themselves. Reid hesitates, his expression tightening for the first time since the conversation began. ¡°No fucking idea¡­ I¡¯m just the one who locked it,¡± he admits quietly, glancing toward the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. ¡°Me, or one of the engineers from the other teams¡ªwe¡¯re the only ones who can access it. Warren told me to seal it up after everything went down. Said it was for everyone¡¯s safety.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± My voice feels too loud in the quiet room, the weight of his words pressing down on me. He shakes his head, his grin flickering like a faulty light. ¡°I don¡¯t know the details. They didn¡¯t let me in on that part. Just told me to secure it and make sure no one goes back in. But¡­¡± He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. ¡°When I was locking it, I thought I heard something. Like¡­ movement. On the other side.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Movement?¡± I echo, my breath catching in my throat. He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly as if recalling the moment. ¡°Yeah. Could¡¯ve been nothing¡ªship creaks all the time, right? But it wasn¡¯t the kind of sound you forget. It was¡­ subtle, but off. Like someone shifting around inside. Maybe it was just the air systems kicking on, or some random mechanical glitch, but it didn¡¯t feel like that. It felt alive.¡± The words hang between us, heavy and unwelcome. My chest tightens, and a shiver runs down my spine. ¡°Did you tell anyone?¡± He snorts softly, but there¡¯s no humor in it. ¡°What would I say? ¡®Hey, Captain, I think there¡¯s something moving around in the haunted lab¡¯? Yeah, that¡¯d go over real well.¡± His grin fades, and his voice lowers. ¡°Besides, there¡¯s already enough paranoia on this ship without me making it worse. People have been whispering about Lab 3 for years.¡± I frown, leaning in slightly. ¡°Whispering about what?¡± ¡°There are rumors,¡± he says after a pause, his tone heavy. ¡°They say the science teams ran experiments on people. Like your father, but¡­ not the same. It wasn¡¯t just data or controlled tests¡ªit was the crew. Some of them volunteered. Others didn¡¯t.¡± My pulse pounds in my ears, my breath catching in my throat. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± I murmur, though my voice wavers. ¡°Why would they¡ª?¡± ¡°Who knows?¡± Reid cuts me off, his jaw tightening. ¡°Maybe they thought they were doing the right thing. Or maybe they didn¡¯t care. Whatever it was, it scared the rest of the crew shitless. That¡¯s why no one goes near that door. It¡¯s not just locked¡ªit¡¯s buried.¡± I swallow hard, but the knot in my chest only tightens. ¡°Why not ask Ashly what they were working on? Or Garin?¡± Reid¡¯s jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment before responding. ¡°Ashly?¡± he says with a short laugh, though it carries no humor. ¡°Good luck with that. Whatever happened in there tore her up. She¡¯s wracked with guilt, and even bringing it up is enough to rattle her. She¡¯ll either shut down or freak out, neither of which gets you closer to the truth.¡± ¡°And Garin?¡± ¡°Won¡¯t tell you shit,¡± Reid says bluntly. ¡°He¡¯s too full of himself to admit to anything. Acts like he¡¯s above it all. If you push him, he¡¯ll just dismiss you like he does everyone else.¡± I frown, the weight of his words sinking in. ¡°What about Knight?¡± Reid¡¯s expression shifts, almost reluctant. ¡°Knight¡¯s still in cryo with B-Team,¡± he says quietly. ¡°They¡¯re not scheduled to rotate back for another three months. Until then, she¡¯s not answering any questions, either.¡± The name hangs in the air, heavy yet not unfamiliar. Knight. I knew her well. She was my father¡¯s assistant after all, always at his side in the lab. My memories of her are tangled with the sharp scent of antiseptic and the cold gleam of surgical tools. Knight wasn¡¯t just efficient; she was methodical, detached. The way her almond-shaped eyes studied me¡ªcalm and clinical¡ªleft no room for doubt. To her, I wasn¡¯t a child. I was data, a living experiment she handled with calculated precision. I remember the quiet murmur of her voice as she recorded notes, the subtle click of a pen against her clipboard as she cataloged my reactions. She never hesitated. Not when I cried. Not when I begged. It was always, ¡°For progress,¡± or, ¡°Your father¡¯s legacy depends on this.¡± Her words felt like steel, cold and unyielding. She believed in my father¡¯s work, believed in me as his greatest creation. But there were moments when her gaze lingered just a second too long, and I¡¯d catch a flicker of something else. Guilt? Doubt? Or was it simply the calculation of risks versus rewards? The experiments were often invasive¡ªneedles piercing too deep, chemicals burning as they flowed through my veins. Knight stood by, monitoring every twitch, every gasp, every tear, her expression unreadable. My father was there too, of course, murmuring reassurances, promises that this was for the greater good. But it was Knight who made it happen. Knight who prepped the syringes, adjusted the machines, kept me sedated when I screamed. She wasn¡¯t cruel, not exactly. But there was something deeply unsettling about her detachment. Even now, the memory of her hands¡ªperfectly steady as they secured electrodes to my skin¡ªsends a shiver through me. She made it easy to forget I was human. Easy to forget I had a choice. Whatever doubts I have about my father¡¯s legacy, about the things he turned me into, Knight will always be part of them. She was the instrument of his will, the one who carried out what he couldn¡¯t. When I think of her now, it isn¡¯t admiration or fear I feel. It¡¯s something darker. Something colder. Resentment, maybe. Or something closer to hatred.
The memory tightens my throat, but I force myself to swallow it down. ¡°So that movement,¡± I repeat, my pulse quickening, my voice barely above a whisper. ¡°What do you think it was?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t know. That¡¯s way above my pay grade,¡± he says with a shrug, straightening up and forcing a grin that doesn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. ¡°Anyway, that was during the third time we were all awake. Ship¡¯s not exactly built for that many people conscious at once¡ªit gets tense. People start talking. Too many ghost stories, not enough space. You¡¯re lucky you missed it.¡± ¡°Tense?¡± I ask, narrowing my eyes. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±
He waves a hand dismissively. ¡°Small ship, big personalities. Add exhaustion, too many people crammed into tight quarters, and limited food and booze? It¡¯s a recipe for things boiling over, and somehow, it always has perfect timing¡ªjust when things are already about to fall apart. But that¡¯s ancient history now. You¡¯re here, and we¡¯ve got work to do.¡± I take another sip of the beer, letting the warmth settle in my chest as I try to piece everything together. The fragments feel close, like they almost fit into a bigger picture, but there¡¯s something missing¡ªsomething just out of reach. ¡°Perfect timing, huh?¡± I say dryly, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Guess I missed the big reunion when everyone was awake at the same time. Sounds like I really dodged the highlight of the century.¡± Reid smirks, leaning back against the desk. ¡°Oh, trust me, you did. Nothing like watching a shipful of sleep-deprived, pissed-off people pretending to play nice while silently plotting murder over ration packs. It¡¯s a real bonding experience.¡± His grin widens as his eyes flick to the black suit folded neatly on the desk. With a nod, he gestures toward it. ¡°Speaking of perfect timing, I was supposed to fit that suit for you when you woke up, but, uh¡­¡± He scratches the back of his neck, feigning an innocent look. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I got¡­ distracted. Figured I¡¯d save myself the lecture from Vega and get you kitted out now.¡±
He steps forward, tapping the desk lightly as he nods at the suit. ¡°Let¡¯s get you suited up, Princess. Can¡¯t have you running around without your armor.¡± I blink as he says it again. ¡°Princess?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he says, grinning again. ¡°Princess of Humanity. You¡¯re the last one with the Voss name, carrying all that legacy. It suits you.¡± The nickname makes me pause. I¡¯ve heard it many times before¡ªand recently¡ªPrincess of Humanity. A title that always carried weight and sharp edges, tied to my father¡¯s reputation and the rumors about his work. About me. It was rarely meant as a compliment. Especially not from that dick. I snort softly, shaking my head. ¡°Garin would probably call me ¡®lab rat of humanity¡¯ instead. Seems more his speed.¡± Reid¡¯s grin falters, his expression hardening. ¡°Garin can go fuck himself,¡± he says bluntly, his voice sharper than I expected. ¡°You¡¯re not a rat. Princess suits you better. Always has.¡± I raise an eyebrow at the sudden shift in his tone. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unexpected.¡± He shrugs, his grin sliding back into place, though there¡¯s something steadier behind it. ¡°Just calling it like it is. Garin can¡¯t see past his own ego, but the rest of us know better. You¡¯re more than your father¡¯s legacy¡ªyou¡¯re your own person. That¡¯s what matters.¡± His words catch me off guard, the conviction behind them striking something deep. For once, the nickname doesn¡¯t feel so heavy, like it¡¯s about me instead of the shadow of my father¡¯s work. I let out a small laugh, surprising even myself. ¡°So, a compliment, then?¡± ¡°Definitely a compliment,¡± he says, his grin softening into something almost genuine. ¡°Legacies like yours? They¡¯re heavy, sure, but they don¡¯t have to be bad. And you carry it well.¡± He leans back, his teasing smirk returning. ¡°Besides, you pull off the larger-than-life thing better than anyone.¡± I roll my eyes, though the faint smile tugging at my lips betrays me. ¡°Well, glad I pass the engineer¡¯s inspection.¡±
¡°Oh, you definitely do,¡± Reid says with mock seriousness, tapping the desk for emphasis as a sly grin spreads across his face. ¡°Princess suits you perfectly. And if Garin¡¯s got a problem with it, well, he knows where to find me.¡± My cheeks flush, and I quickly glance down at the suit in my hands, focusing on the fabric to steady myself. The weight of it feels suddenly more substantial, grounding me. ¡°So¡­ do I just put this on?¡± I ask, my voice quieter than I intended, unsure of exactly how this works. Reid¡¯s grin widens, his easy confidence firmly back in place. ¡°Yup. I¡¯ll step out¡ªdon¡¯t worry, I¡¯m a gentleman,¡± he says with an exaggerated wink before pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. I wait for the door to slide shut behind him before changing out of the loose T-shirt and shorts Yates gave me. The suit fits snugly, molding to my body like a second skin. As I fasten the last clasp, I take a deep breath, only to feel the fabric pull tight across my chest, leaving me slightly restricted. I shift uncomfortably, adjusting the suit. The snug fit highlights my small, slight frame, but it doesn¡¯t shy away from the curves that feel almost out of place¡ªmy chest and hips seem exaggerated by the way the suit clings. It¡¯s a strange balance, one that feels both secure and suffocating. I glance at my reflection in the full-body mirror. The black material contrasts sharply with my pale skin and white hair, which falls in a curtain over my shoulders. Silver circuitry glints faintly along my limbs and torso, catching the light. My red eye stares back alien and unfamiliar, unnervingly vivid against the dark suit, while my blue eye feels like the last piece of the person I used to be. The image is jarring¡ªhuman, but only just. I almost laugh at the absurdity. I look like a character someone would draw to be larger than life, striking in a way I¡¯m not sure I understand. The thought feels both ridiculous and uncomfortably true. The door slides open. ¡°Well,¡± Reid says, leaning against the frame with a smirk, ¡°you make that look a hell of a lot better than I expected. The white hair against the black? Very dramatic. Like something out of a holo-novel.¡± ¡°Reid,¡± I warn, trying to sound stern, but the small smile tugging at my lips betrays me. Heat creeps up my neck, and I glance away, unsure if his comment is teasing or genuine¡ªor maybe both. His grin widens as if he knows exactly how I feel. ¡°Relax, it¡¯s a compliment. You look like you were designed for it.¡± I¡¯m embarrassed, flattered, and a little irritated all at once. For a moment, I wonder if he really means it¡ªif he sees the larger-than-life figure I glimpsed in the mirror. Knowing Reid, or at least starting to, he probably does. And if I¡¯m learning to trust him, maybe that¡¯s not such a bad thing. ¡°Hey, just calling it like I see it.¡± He crouches beside me, running a scanner over the seams. His expression turns serious as he works. ¡°It¡¯s a tight fit, but that¡¯s how it¡¯s supposed to be. Moves like a second skin. You¡¯ll thank me when it saves your ass.¡± I shift my arms experimentally, the fabric stretching easily with me. ¡°It feels¡­ different.¡± ¡°Good different,¡± he says, straightening. ¡°Trust me, you look functional and badass. Exactly what the Princess of Humanity should be.¡± I roll my eyes, but the warmth in his voice catches me off guard. It¡¯s not unwelcome¡ªactually, it¡¯s almost flattering. Almost. But there are bigger things to worry about. ¡°Thanks, Reid,¡± I say quietly, adjusting one of the clasps. ¡°Anytime, Princess,¡± he says, his grin returning. But there¡¯s something softer behind it this time, something almost sincere. ¡°Oh, and heads up¡ªwe¡¯ve got a big day tomorrow. You¡¯re lucky. You get to see the fun stuff.¡± I tilt my head, curiosity overriding my lingering unease. ¡°Fun stuff?¡± ¡°We¡¯re refueling the fusion core,¡± he says, his grin widening. ¡°Scoopin¡¯ hydrogen from a star we¡¯re passing. You know, just casually borrowing from the universe¡¯s furnace.¡± I blink, unsure if he¡¯s serious. ¡°A star? As in, a Sun?¡± ¡°Yep,¡± he says, leaning against the doorframe. ¡°Basically, we¡¯re pulling a Prometheus¡ªstealing fire from the gods. Or maybe it¡¯s more of an Icarus situation, depending on how smoothly it goes.¡± The reference catches me off guard, and I smirk despite myself. ¡°Didn¡¯t both of those end badly?¡± ¡°Details,¡± he says with a dismissive wave. ¡°Either way, it¡¯s gonna be a hell of a show. You might even learn something.¡± ¡°Stealing fire from the gods,¡± I repeat softly, the words sticking in my mind. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that feel a little¡­ ominous?¡± He shrugs, his grin turning mischievous. ¡°It¡¯s only ominous if we screw up. Which we won¡¯t. Normally, we¡¯d skim a nice, friendly gas giant, but someone¡ª¡± he throws an exaggerated glance over his shoulder, as if searching for the culprit¡ª ¡°miscalculated. Now we¡¯re low on fuel, and the only thing out here for light years is that big glowing ball of hydrogen.¡± I frown, trying to process his nonchalance. ¡°So we¡¯re scooping hydrogen from a star? That¡¯s safe?¡± ¡°Totally safe. Probably,¡± he says with a lopsided grin. ¡°The shields can handle micrometeors at near light speed when we¡¯re out of warp. A little star skimming is just a hot day at the office. Anyway, it¡¯s not my fault. Vega and Jericho handled the course plotting, so if anyone screwed the math, blame them. But hey, at least it¡¯ll look cool.¡± I raise an eyebrow. ¡°So, this is a gamble based on some bad math?¡± He laughs, waving me off. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s cool. We¡¯ve done worse. And I¡¯ve got a plan if it all goes sideways.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not exactly reassuring,¡± I mutter, though his confidence, misplaced as it might be, manages to chip away at my unease. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± he says, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. ¡°Just think of it as a front-row seat to humanity flipping off the universe. I mean, who else gets to say they stole fire from a star and lived to tell about it?¡± Before I can respond, he pulls the flask from his pocket and gives it a little shake. ¡°Here,¡± he says, unscrewing the cap with a flourish. ¡°It¡¯s not top-shelf or anything¡ªhell, it¡¯s not even mid-shelf¡ªbut it gets the job done. Homemade, straight from my secret stash.¡± He takes a swig, his face scrunching briefly before he lets out a satisfied sigh and hands it to me. ¡°Go on, Princess. You survived cryo, you can handle a little burn.¡± I hesitate, then take the flask. The liquor burns sharp and hot, trailing fire down my throat and settling warm in my chest. I cough slightly, and he chuckles. ¡°Not bad, right?¡± he teases, his grin widening. I hand it back, the faintest smile tugging at my lips. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll try not to miss the spectacle,¡± I say, the heat of the whiskey making me feel a little steadier, a little more grounded. ¡°Keep it,¡± he says with a wink, slipping the cap back on and tossing it to me. ¡°Call it a welcome gift. And hey, if you need more, I¡¯m brewing the next batch. Leftover rations, filtered water, and a little help from the hydroponics bay. They¡¯ve got just enough fresh scraps and yeast to make something vaguely drinkable.¡± His grin is disarming, full of mischief, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of everything feels just a little lighter.
"I''ll remember that," I say, gripping the flask lightly, its weight oddly comforting in my hand. ¡°Good,¡± he says, pushing off the doorframe. ¡°Don¡¯t let the ghosts¡ªor Jimmy¡¯s snoring¡ªkeep you up. You¡¯ll want a clear head in the morning. Wouldn¡¯t want to miss the gods striking us down or something.¡± He pauses, his tone shifting to something more serious. ¡°But really, leave Lab 3 alone. Some doors are sealed for a reason. Leave ¡¯em that way.¡± He winks as he steps into the corridor, the door hissing shut behind him. For a moment, I stare at the closed door, his words lingering in my mind. A big glowing ball of hydrogen. Stealing fire from the gods. It all feels dangerously poetic, as if the universe is just waiting for us to push too far. I can¡¯t help but think of my father. People used to say the same thing about him¡ªplaying god, meddling with forces beyond comprehension. They feared him as much as they revered him, the man who was both humanity¡¯s leader and its only hope. Every breakthrough brought whispers of hubris, of tampering with things better left alone. Yet, he pressed on, carrying the weight of a dying world on his shoulders. Now, here we are, his legacy stitched into my very being, still pushing, still reaching, still daring the gods to strike us down. The idea of siphoning hydrogen from a star should thrill me¡ªa feat so grand it borders on divine. But instead, it gnaws at the back of my mind. Stealing fire from the gods. Even myths had their limits. What happens when we push too far? I sit on the edge of the cot, my thoughts spiraling. Reid¡¯s warnings, the scratched-out face in the photo, the desperate scrawl of the note¡ªthey all point to truths buried deeper than I can yet reach. But instead of crushing me, the weight sharpens something inside: a need to understand. I slip my hand beneath the pillow, pulling out the photo and note again. My father¡¯s face stares back at me, his faint smile a cruel echo of the man I thought I knew. The scratched-out figure looms like a ghost, and the words on the back of the note burn into my mind: Live your life. The horrors in Lab 3 should be forgotten. Evolution is better left to nature and God. Abandon your father¡¯s legacy¡ªI beg you. Someone wanted me to find this. But who? And why? The note feels like a warning, but it¡¯s incomplete¡ªhiding as much as it reveals. Lab 3. It keeps coming back to Lab 3. Reid¡¯s voice echoes in my mind, stripped of its usual humor. ¡°Some doors are sealed for a reason.¡± The way he¡¯d said it¡ªtoo sharp, too quick¡ªlingers. It wasn¡¯t just a warning. It was fear. And then there are the eyes. Gold. Alien. Terrifying. The way they pierced me, unblinking, studying. For a moment, I¡¯d felt like prey. A shudder crawls up my spine at the memory. I told myself it wasn¡¯t real, a trick of stress and imagination. But even now, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that something is still watching, waiting. My father¡¯s voice lingers in my mind: ¡°To endure, we have to evolve.¡± He believed humanity had to break its limits to survive. But what if breaking those limits unleashed something worse? Lab 3 wasn¡¯t just about saving humanity¡ªit was about reshaping it. And something went terribly wrong. Wilks died there. Reid hinted at experiments on the crew¡ªsome willing, others not. The rest? Too afraid to speak. The note in my hand deepens the unease. I beg you. The words feel desperate, almost panicked. Whoever wrote this wasn¡¯t warning me out of caution¡ªthey were pleading. But pleading with me to stop what? If there¡¯s a monster, why isn¡¯t anyone acting like there¡¯s danger? Why does everyone seem so calm if something¡¯s loose on this ship? My fingers tighten around the edge of the note as another thought creeps in. What if the monster¡ªthe thing I thought I saw¡ª what if it''s loose? What if it¡¯s not locked behind Lab 3? What if it¡¯s tied to the experiments, to my father¡¯s work, to me? The tension coils tighter in my chest, and I glance at the monitor on the desk. ¡°Jericho,¡± I call, my voice breaking the silence. The AI¡¯s voice crackles to life, calm and clinical. ¡°Yes, Sol?¡± ¡°Run a scan of the ship,¡± I say, the words feeling foolish even as I speak them. ¡°Look for¡­ anomalies.¡± ¡°Please clarify.¡± I hesitate, gripping the photo tightly. ¡°Signs of movement. Life forms that shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± The pause that follows stretches unbearably. Finally, Jericho replies, ¡°Scan complete. No anomalies detected.¡± I exhale shakily but press on. ¡°How many life forms are awake and on board?¡± ¡°There are 1,098 life forms aboard the Jericho,¡± Jericho replies with its usual clinical precision. ¡°Nine are currently awake: Captain Warren, Lieutenant Commander Vega, Chief Engineer Reid, Medical Officer Yates, Head Scientist Garin, Biologist Ashly, Security Officer Holt, Maintenance Technician Jimmy, and yourself, Sol Voss. Two life forms are registered as deceased: Julian Voss and Gregory Wilks. The remaining 989 crew members are in cryosleep. Additionally, 100 animal life forms across 50 species remain in cryogenic stasis. These include breeding pairs of livestock, insects, and rare species critical for ecosystem restoration and genetic diversity. No unaccounted-for life forms.¡± Nine awake. No anomalies. No monsters. The logical answer should comfort me, but it feels hollow. If Jericho¡¯s right, then the problem is me. My fraying mind, my growing paranoia. The cracks forming under the weight of my father¡¯s legacy. And yet, the yellow eyes feel too real to dismiss. If Jericho can¡¯t detect them, does that mean they don¡¯t exist? Or does it mean something worse? I inhale sharply, steadying myself. ¡°Jericho,¡± I say, my voice trembling as I lean closer to the monitor. ¡°What is the status of Lab 3?¡± A pause follows, longer than I expect, and tension knots in my stomach. Finally, the AI responds, its voice calm, clinical, and maddeningly precise. ¡°Access to Lab 3 information is restricted. Clearance denied.¡± ¡°Restricted?¡± I repeat, the frustration in my voice surprising even me. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Access to Lab 3 is limited to authorized personnel,¡± Jericho replies. ¡°You do not have clearance.¡± I grip the desk tightly, my nails pressing into the cold metal. ¡°Who has clearance?¡± ¡°Head Scientist Garin, Captain Warren, and Lieutenant Commander Vega are authorized to access Lab 3 records and physical entry. Additional clearance may be granted by Captain Warren.¡± My breath catches. The sterile response offers no comfort, only reinforcing how tightly locked the answers are. ¡°What about Lab 3 itself? What¡¯s its status? Has it been accessed recently?¡± ¡°Lab 3 remains sealed. No unauthorized access detected since it was locked under Captain Warren¡¯s authority.¡± The words should reassure me, but they don¡¯t. My fingers twitch at my side, my mind racing. ¡°Jericho¡­ why was it locked?¡± ¡°Information classified. Clearance denied.¡± The words slam into me like a wall, unyielding and final. My frustration flares. ¡°You¡¯re the ship¡¯s AI,¡± I snap, the heat rising in my tone. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to help me?¡± ¡°I am programmed to ensure the safety and functionality of the Jericho and its crew,¡± Jericho responds, as measured as ever. ¡°My assistance is bound by clearance protocols.¡± I lean back, the knot in my stomach tightening. Jericho is just a machine, just a program¡ªneutral, unfeeling. But the way it denies me, the way it guards Lab 3 like some ancient sentinel, feels deliberate. It was built by my father¡¯s team, its purpose entwined with his work. And that alone makes me question how much I can trust it. For all I know, Jericho is hiding something¡ªfollowing directives I¡¯ll never understand. It has no problem listing the crew, running scans, or denying anomalies, but when it comes to Lab 3, it shuts me out. What¡¯s it protecting? Or¡­ who? The AI¡¯s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts. ¡°Is there anything else I can assist you with, Sol?¡± ¡°No,¡± I say sharply, my voice colder than I intend. The calm precision of its tone feels almost mocking. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± The monitor dims, the silence closing in around me once again. I sit there, my mind a storm of questions and doubts. If Jericho won¡¯t tell me about Lab 3, and if even it can¡¯t¡ªor won¡¯t¡ªacknowledge anything unusual on this ship, then where does that leave me? Alone with a growing fear that maybe the problem isn¡¯t just me. Maybe it¡¯s the ship itself. Maybe Jericho isn¡¯t just an observer, isn¡¯t just a tool. Maybe it¡¯s complicit. The note and photo sit in my lap like relics of a truth I can¡¯t yet grasp. I can¡¯t shake the feeling that whatever¡¯s waiting in Lab 3 is tied to me¡ªto my healing, to the changes in my body, to everything I don¡¯t yet understand. The answers are behind that sealed door. Reid¡¯s voice echoes yet again: ¡°Some doors are sealed for a reason. Leave ¡¯em that way.¡± But I can¡¯t abandon the questions gnawing at my mind. The scratched-out face in the photo, the cryptic warning, the lingering memory of those eyes. It all feels connected. The note told me to forget, to let Lab 3 stay buried. But how can I forget what I don¡¯t even know? How can I abandon a legacy that has become part of me? I clench the note tightly, my pulse quickening as the yellow eyes flash in my memory once more, vivid and sharp. If they aren¡¯t real, why do they feel so close, so alive? My chest tightens, but this time it¡¯s not fear alone that grips me. Curiosity. Determination. Something darker. Something colder. My father¡¯s work didn¡¯t die with him¡ªit followed us, festering, waiting. And now, it¡¯s calling to me. I set the photo and note down on the desk, my gaze lingering on them. The cold emptiness of the ship doesn¡¯t feel so overwhelming anymore. It feels like a tether, pulling me closer to the truth. Whatever waits behind that door, it¡¯s part of me now. Every lock I¡¯ve faced only proved one thing¡ªwhatever¡¯s behind it, I¡¯m meant to find. For the first time since waking, the silence around me doesn¡¯t feel like the end. It feels like the beginning. Chapter 5 : Jerichos Heart The room was bathed in dim, bluish light as I stirred awake, the steady hum of the Jericho vibrating faintly beneath me. It wasn¡¯t a comforting sound¡ªnot yet. It was too vast, too mechanical, too foreign. Still, it was constant, a low murmur that felt like the heartbeat of the ship itself. "Good morning, Sol," Jericho¡¯s voice crackled to life, calm and clinical as always. "Lieutenant Commander Vega has sent the morning briefing packet to your datapad. You have two hours until the scheduled briefing." I groaned and rolled onto my side, the thin blanket twisting around me like it was trying to hold me down. Two hours. That was Vega for you¡ªstern but fair, giving just enough time to prepare but not a moment to waste. Last night, she had stopped by my cabin with a small bag of hygiene supplies: toothpaste, soap, a few changes of clothes. She didn¡¯t linger, just handed it to me with a brief nod and told me to get some rest. ¡°You¡¯ll need it,¡± she¡¯d said, her voice even but not unkind. The gesture had stuck with me. Vega wasn¡¯t just sharp and no-nonsense; there was something else under the surface. She wasn¡¯t looking for perfection¡ªshe just expected effort. With a reluctant sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of the cot, the cold metal floor biting against my bare feet. My cabin was small, barely more than a box, with a cot, a desk, and a storage compartment. The datapad rested on the desk, still glowing faintly from where I¡¯d left it last night. I grabbed it, brushing a strand of white hair from my face, and settled back onto the cot. The screen blinked to life, displaying Vega¡¯s message at the top of the interface.
Sender: Lt. Commander Vega Subject: Morning Briefing ¨C Review Packet Time Remaining: 2 hours Message from Lt. Commander Vega: "Sol, you¡¯ve been assigned this briefing at 0700 hours. Attached is a detailed overview of the Jericho¡¯s systems, mission specs, and key operational protocols. Familiarize yourself with this information before the meeting. Understanding the Jericho is critical to your role. Study up."
I sighed, letting the datapad rest in my lap for a moment. ¡°I just want to sleep, Vega,¡± I muttered under my breath. But I couldn¡¯t ignore her. Resigned, I tapped open the attached packet. A schematic of the Jericho filled the screen¡ªclean, precise, and overwhelming in its scale. A mile long, bristling with technology, and carrying what was left of humanity across the stars.
Jericho Systems Overview

Classification:

  • Type: Long-Range Interstellar Colony Vessel
  • Designation: Jericho
  • Length: 1 mile (1,609 meters)
  • AI Classification: Level 5 intelligence ¡°Experimental¡±
  • Primary Structure: Modular rectangular superstructure divided into propulsion, storage, and crew living quarters.

Structural Allocation:

  • Propulsion and Power Systems: 70% of total mass
  • Storage: 20%
  • Crew and Operational Spaces: 10%

Propulsion Systems and Hanger Bay:

Fusion Core:
  • Output: Produces 10 exawatts of power per hour under standard operation.
  • Fuel: Primarily hydrogen, supplemented by other elements.
  • Mechanism: Replicates the extreme conditions of a star¡¯s core.
  • Classified: [REDACTED ¨C ACCESS DENIED].
  • Classified: [REDACTED ¨C ACCESS DENIED].
  • Supports: Sublight propulsion, FTL travel, shields, and weaponry.
  • Maintenance: Requires hydrogen refueling every 10 months from gas giants, comets, or stars.
  • Current Status: Low fuel¡ªrefueling operation scheduled for today.
FTL Warp Drive:
  • Capabilities:
    • Allows faster-than-light travel by bending spacetime around the ship, enabling journeys up to 100 times the speed of light.
    • Reduces interstellar distances, turning decades-long trips into weeks or months.
  • Functionality:
    • Warp Bubble Mechanics: Compresses spacetime in front of the ship and expands it behind, moving the ship without traditional propulsion.
    • Powered directly by the fusion core, converting immense energy into exotic particles needed to stabilize the warp bubble.
  • Limitations:
    • Energy Intensive: Drains a significant portion of the fusion core¡¯s power, temporarily reducing available energy for other systems.
    • Field Instability: Power fluctuations or miscalculated jumps can destabilize the warp field, risking catastrophic failure.
  • Applications:
    • Interstellar Travel: Essential for reaching distant colonies like Haven within feasible timeframes.
    • Emergency Evacuation: Provides rapid escape from threats, though high speeds increase risks.
Note : The warp drive represents humanity''s best hope for interstellar travel, powered by the Jericho¡¯s advanced fusion technology. Sublight Ion Drives:
  • Capabilities: Multi-axis Ion engines provide precise maneuverability and efficient extended sublight travel, essential for docking, evasive maneuvers, and close-range system navigation.
  • Power Source: Powered by the hydrogen-fed fusion core, ensuring consistent energy output for sustained operations.
  • Efficiency: Utilizing ionized particles for thrust, the engines achieve exceptional efficiency with minimal resource consumption for long-duration travel.
  • Precision: Advanced multi-axis configuration enables exact adjustments in position, vital for operations like refueling, maintenance, and planetary orbit entry.
  • Sustainability: Designed for long-term reliability with minimal maintenance requirements, supported by integrated nano-repair systems to manage routine wear.
Shuttles (2 Total):
  • Description: Multi-purpose craft used for reconnaissance, resource gathering, and minor repair missions.
  • Propulsion: Ion propulsion systems for precision maneuvering within the ship¡¯s vicinity or planetary entry.
  • Capabilities:
    • Suitable for scouting and short-range exploration.
    • Equipped with light point-defense lasers for basic defense.
  • Crew Capacity: Holds up to 8 individuals per shuttle, with limited cargo space.
  • Limitations: Not FTL-capable; designed for operations within the local star system.
  • Evacuation Role: Can function as emergency evacuation vessels for nearby planetary destinations.
Lifeboat/Cargo Ship (1 Total):
  • Description: A larger dual-purpose vessel serving as a cargo transport and emergency lifeboat.
  • Capacity:
    • Holds up to 30 people if no cargo is on board.
    • Designed with essential life-support systems for short-term survival.
  • Propulsion: Ion thrusters for limited navigation, supplemented by solar sails for energy efficiency.
  • Limitations: Not FTL-capable; intended for evacuation to nearby planets or celestial bodies only.
  • Evacuation Role: Serves as the primary escape craft for the largest portion of the crew in emergency situations.

Defensive Systems:

Plasma Shields:
  • Description: Energy barriers that absorb energy-based attacks and cosmic radiation.
  • Limitations: Overload risks under sustained bombardment, reliant on the fusion core for prolonged operation.
Kinetic Barriers:
  • Description: Magnetic fields and high-energy pulses to deflect physical projectiles like railgun slugs or meteoroids.
Nano-Carbon Hull:
  • Reinforcement: High-strength nano-carbon mesh for heat, radiation, and impact resistance.
  • Nano-Regenerative Technology:
    • Harvests external materials (e.g., asteroids, comet debris) to autonomously repair damage.
    • Repairs structural breaches faster than manual intervention.
Multi-Role Combat and Repair Drones Offensive Capabilities
  • Integrated laser cannons for precise strikes and sustained suppression.
  • Micro-missiles with adaptive targeting systems for enemy ships and armored vehicles.
Defensive Systems
  • Reinforced kinetic barriers to repel incoming projectiles, including small railgun slugs.
  • Swarm-enabled point-defense systems to intercept and neutralize threats at long range.
Repair and Maintenance
  • Advanced nano-repair modules for rapid patching of hull breaches and shield restoration.
  • Autonomous diagnostic systems to identify and fix mid-mission damage or malfunctions.
Resource Recovery
  • Material extraction tools for mining and salvaging asteroids or debris fields.
  • Onboard processors to refine harvested materials for immediate repair use or resupply.
Ground Combat Features
  • Retractable legs and hover thrusters for enhanced movement across uneven terrain.
  • Close-range plasma-edged blades designed for melee encounters.
  • Grenade launchers for wide-area suppression and crowd control.
Autonomous Coordination
  • Jericho¡¯s AI manages all drones for seamless tactical deployment.
  • Autonomous protocols enable operation during communication blackouts or emergencies.

Offensive Systems:

Railguns:
  • Description: Dual railguns fire tungsten slugs the size of hover transports, designed to penetrate even the thickest enemy armor with devastating kinetic force. Each slug is constructed with a dense tungsten shell encasing a depleted uranium core, with the tip specially hardened for maximum armor-piercing capability. As the slugs accelerate to near-light speeds, their immense kinetic energy generates enough force on impact to vaporize the tungsten shell into a plasma shockwave, softening the target''s defenses. The depleted uranium core then delivers a concentrated punch, driving through starship hulls or fortified planetary structures with unparalleled precision and power. This lethal combination ensures the railguns can cripple even the most heavily armored targets.
  • Drawbacks: Limited ammunition reserves. While resources in storage can be used to synthesize more slugs, the process relies on the nano-bot synthesizers, which require significant time and raw materials. This limitation places a strain on both storage capacity and operational efficiency during extended engagements.
Laser Arrays:
  • Description: High-precision beams for debris clearance, mining, or surgical strikes.
  • Operation: Continuous fire capability under stable core output.
Missile Launchers:
  • Payloads: Conventional explosives, EMP rounds, and nuclear warheads.
  • Failsafe: Nuclear launches require dual authorization from Captain Warren and Jericho, the ship¡¯s AI.
Note: Like the rail gun, building ammo is time and resource intensive. Elite Strike Force ¨C "The Royal Guard":
  • Overview:
    • 20 elite soldiers, Earth''s most advanced warriors, each personally modified by Dr. Julian Voss, housed in cryo-storage aboard the Jericho. Known semi-officially as "The Royal Guard," their nickname reflected their direct connection to Voss, revered by many as humanity¡¯s "king," and his daughter Sol Voss, often seen as its "princess." Cybernetically and genetically enhanced to superhuman levels and equipped with advanced power suits, plasma rifles, and energy blades, they were the epitome of Earth¡¯s military prowess¡ªeach a one-man army in their own right. Their presence symbolized unmatched skill, unparalleled combat efficiency, and unwavering loyalty to safeguarding humanity¡¯s fragile future.
  • Cybernetic and Genetic Enhancements:
    • Advanced augmentations grant superhuman longevity, strength, reflexes, and endurance.
    • Neural interfaces enable seamless connection to the Jericho¡¯s systems and advanced weaponry.
  • Equipment:
    • Advanced Power Suits:
      • Reinforced power armor designed for high mobility, adaptive shielding, and environmental versatility.
      • Integrated heads-up displays (HUDs) with tactical overlays and real-time data feeds.
    • Plasma Rifles:
      • Precision energy weapons capable of rapid-fire and anti-armor modes.
      • Configurable for mission-specific needs, from crowd control to direct assault.
    • Energy Blades:
      • Melee weapons with plasma-edged blades, capable of cutting through advanced materials.
      • Compact and retractable, suitable for stealth or close-quarters combat.
  • Purpose:
    • Designed for deployment in high-risk scenarios where overwhelming force or precision is required.
    • Serve as a last line of defense for the Jericho and its mission.
    • Prepared to handle security during civil unrest or as a strike force against external threats.
My gaze lingered on the description, Vega¡¯s words from the attached note echoing in my mind. ¡°The Royal Guard stands as the pinnacle of Earth¡¯s military and scientific advancements¡ªa living testament to Dr. Voss¡¯s vision. Their name may have begun as a nickname, but it carries undeniable truth. They were his protectors, and now, by extension, they exist to safeguard what little humanity has left. Their strength and loyalty are unparalleled, but they are a double-edged sword¡ªour greatest asset or our gravest liability. Keyed to the Voss genetic line, they now answer to his daughter alone. Should the time come when we must rely on them, the balance of power will rest entirely in her hands.¡± The Royal Guard. My father¡¯s private army, created to defend what he deemed most important. The nickname stung with irony. I wasn¡¯t royalty, yet the name followed me like a shadow, a reminder of the pedestal my father had placed me on¡ªand the expectations and power that came with it. My chest tightened as my mind wandered briefly to the yellow-eyed monster I had seen¡ªno, felt¡ªjust yesterday. Tall, wrong, and cloaked in darkness, it had loomed in the corner of the bathroom, its gaze piercing and unrelenting. I had frozen, too terrified to run, my body betraying me as I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for it to vanish. When I finally dared to open them, the room was empty. Even Jericho¡¯s scans had turned up nothing. ¡°No anomalies detected,¡± the AI had reported, its calm tone making me feel even more unhinged. But I knew something had been there. I could still feel the weight of its presence, the icy dread it had left behind. Could these soldiers¡ªthese superhuman warriors¡ªhandle something like that? My imagination ran wild: the Royal Guard in their advanced power suits, their plasma rifles lighting up the darkness, energy blades slicing through that impossibly wrong figure. I pictured them moving with perfect precision, the pinnacle of human strength and resilience. For a fleeting moment, I felt a pang of comfort. They were Earth¡¯s best, after all. If anyone could handle something like that¡­ But then doubt crept in. The thing had disappeared without a trace. Even Jericho¡¯s sensors hadn¡¯t detected it. What kind of monster could evade everything? I shook my head sharply, trying to banish the memory. It wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t have been real. Just the lingering effects of cryo, I told myself. My mind was still foggy, my body still adjusting. But no matter how I rationalized it, the unease refused to leave me. I forced my focus back to the datapad, my eyes settling on the next entry: the Solar Beam, the most terrifying weapon my father had ever created¡ªat least, the one the public knew about.
Solar Beam:
  • Description: A last-resort weapon drawing directly from the fusion core at great risk to the core''s stability.
  • Capabilities: Destabilizes stars or destroys planetary cores.
  • Failsafe: Requires triple authorization from Captain Warren, Jericho, and a crew member with medium clearance or above.
My gaze lingered on the description of the Solar Beam, the most terrifying weapon my father had ever conceived¡ªor at least, the one the public knew about. A last-resort superweapon, it could destabilize a planetary core or even trigger a star to go supernova. Theoretically, it was humanity¡¯s ultimate safeguard, a deterrent meant to keep any hostile force at bay. But I couldn¡¯t help but think bitterly: Was it really a safeguard? Or just a testament to how far my father was willing to go? The debates about the weapon¡¯s ethical implications had raged before Jericho¡¯s launch, but in the end, the allure of power had won. People would rather fear their savior than face the unknown unarmed. Shaking off the thought, I looked back at the datapad, continuing to scroll through the seemingly endless details of the ship¡¯s systems.

Nano-Repair System:

  • Capabilities: Breaks down raw materials into base components for reconstruction.
  • Applications: Produces ammunition, drones, hull patches, or entirely new components.
  • Sustainability: Operates indefinitely with sufficient resources.

Storage:

Cryogenic Preservation:
  • Human Population: 1,000 cryo pods designated for crew and passengers.
  • Biodiversity Archive:
    • 100 pods reserved for Earth¡¯s critical animal species.
    • Genetic repository for 100,000 species stored in cryo-tanks, ready for cloning.
Hydroponics Bay:
  • Primary Function: Oxygen production along side the CO2 scrubbers.
  • Capacity: Limited to 4% of maximum theoretical output.

Crew Living and Work Quarters (10% of total mass):

Habitation:
  • Description: 10 interconnected floors, each approximately 30,000 square feet.
  • Amenities: Crew quarters, mess halls, research labs.
Mission Briefing: Hydrogen Harvest Operation "Feeding The Dragon"
The datapad¡¯s glow reflected off the dim cabin walls as I scrolled through the ship¡¯s systems, the technical perfection of the Jericho laid out in neat diagrams and precise numbers. My finger paused over the schematic of the fusion core, tracing the delicate pathways of plasma conduits that wrapped tightly around its heart. Each line of data felt clinical, detached¡ªan artificial simplicity masking something far more volatile beneath the surface. I swiped to the next section, where the mundane technical details gave way to the specifics of today¡¯s mission. My stomach tightened as my eyes locked on the title: "Feeding the Dragon." The phrase stared back at me, stark and ominous. It clung to me like a whisper from the past, dragging jagged memories I¡¯d buried deep to the surface. Feeding the Dragon. The name wasn¡¯t arbitrary. It was deliberate, calculated¡ªloaded with meaning I couldn¡¯t ignore. My finger hovered over the schematic, tracing the plasma conduits again as unease pooled in my chest.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Ten exawatts per hour,¡± I murmured to myself, the figure gnawing at me. That kind of power shouldn¡¯t exist. It wasn¡¯t natural. No colony ship before us had ever come close to such output. Their fusion reactors had been primitive, barely scraping by, and their journeys had been desperate gambles. Some had failed. Most had simply vanished. But the Jericho? It wasn¡¯t scraping by. It was something else entirely. I stared at the schematic, fragments of memory stirring like dust shaken loose in the dark. ¡°It¡¯s not just fusion,¡± a voice whispered in my mind, sharp and trembling. ¡°This isn¡¯t science, Julian. This is madness.¡± The memory came rushing back, vivid and inescapable. I was twelve years old, sitting on the edge of a desk in my father¡¯s lab. My legs swung idly, brushing against the cold metal, as the hum of machinery filled the air. The holographic projection of the Jericho¡¯s core floated between my father and Dr. Knight, its intricate design rotating slowly in the sterile light. ¡°This isn¡¯t just fusion,¡± Knight said again, her tone low and tight. She sounded like she was holding back a scream. Her almond-shaped eyes darted between the hologram and my father, her expression a mix of fear and disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re containing a singularity inside a star. This¡­ ¡°Dragon¡±, Julian. You¡¯re building a weapon, not a power source.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a weapon,¡± my father snapped, his words cutting like a scalpel. He paced around the projection, his movements sharp and deliberate. ¡°It¡¯s survival. Do you think a standard fusion core would have been enough to power the Jericho? To maintain its systems, its defenses, its propulsion?¡± He turned on her then, his gaze hard and unrelenting. ¡°Do you think humanity has time to wait for safe, conventional solutions?¡± Knight folded her arms, her expression darkening. ¡°You¡¯re using fusion to cage a black hole. Do you even hear yourself? If we lose containment for even a fraction of a second¡ª¡± ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± my father interrupted, his voice rising with a rare edge of anger. He stepped closer to the hologram, his hand hovering near the spinning image of the core as if he could touch it. ¡°Dragon is stable. Perfectly contained. It produces more energy than anything humanity has ever conceived, and it will sustain the Jericho indefinitely.¡± Knight¡¯s voice dropped to barely a whisper. ¡°This isn¡¯t just science, Julian. This is playing with reality itself. If anyone ever finds out what you¡¯ve done here¡ªwhat Dragon really is¡ªthey won¡¯t just call you a genius. They¡¯ll call you a madman.¡± Her words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. My father didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he turned to me. For a moment, his intensity softened, his sharpness fading into something gentler. He crouched in front of me, his voice quieter but no less certain. ¡°Sometimes, Sol,¡± he said, his eyes locking with mine, ¡°you have to break the rules to save what matters.¡± Back then, I didn¡¯t understand. How could I? I was just a child, perched in the middle of a conversation I wasn¡¯t meant to overhear. But now, staring at the title on the datapad, the memory cut through me like glass. He hadn¡¯t just broken the rules¡ªhe¡¯d shattered them. And he¡¯d dragged all of humanity with him. I swiped back to the schematic, my gaze locking onto the plasma conduits wrapped around the core. The truth hovered at the edge of my thoughts, jagged and undeniable. The core wasn¡¯t just a fusion reactor. It was something far more dangerous¡ªa black hole caged by fusion itself. The singularity at its heart wasn¡¯t just a power source; it was a predator, patient and unrelenting. It radiated immense energy in the form of Hawking radiation, driving the Jericho¡¯s engines, shields, weapons, and life support systems¡ªeverything that kept us alive in the void. But its containment required something equally extraordinary: the unyielding plasma field of an artificial star. My stomach twisted. Fusion wasn¡¯t the heart of the Jericho. It was its leash. The memory faded, and I blinked, my focus snapping back to the datapad in my lap. The name Dragon stared back at me, no longer hidden behind the usual security layers but highlighted as part of the mission briefing. It was access I¡¯d only been given because of how crucial this task was¡ªreplenishing the core wasn¡¯t just maintenance; it was survival. If the core ever ran out of power, the star feeding it would collapse, unable to sustain the plasma fields holding the black hole in place. The thought made my breath catch. A black hole, loose and uncontrolled, would devour everything in its path¡ªthe Jericho, the surrounding space, maybe even a solar system. Why would you build something so dangerous, Dad? I shivered, my fingers tightening around the datapad. The black hole wasn¡¯t just a power source¡ªit was a predator, its hunger held at bay by nothing more than my father¡¯s genius and the unrelenting need for fuel. And what happens when the fuel runs out? The question churned in my mind, sharp and unyielding. I tapped the screen, navigating back to the menu. The section labeled Experimental Systems caught my eye, its flashing red header marked CLASSIFIED ¨C RESTRICTED ACCESS. My clearance wouldn¡¯t unlock it; I already knew that. But I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was more buried here¡ªmore than what Vega had shared in her briefing. My fingers hovered over the console, and I tapped the icon. Predictably, the system denied me with a dull chime. ACCESS DENIED. I sighed, leaning back against the cold wall of my cabin. Of course, Vega hadn¡¯t trusted me with full clearance. Why would she? I was the ship¡¯s walking enigma, and even this much access felt like a reluctant gesture. Still, something itched at the back of my mind, a half-formed thought that refused to leave me alone. And then it came to me: the code. A sharp pang of memory struck, a mix of guilt and something softer. SOL-LUX-7. It wasn¡¯t just any code¡ªit was the same emergency pass my father had given me when I was barely a teenager. ¡°If I¡¯m not around,¡± he¡¯d said, his voice low and serious, ¡°and you need to get into my lab, this will let you in. It¡¯s only for emergencies, Sol.¡± He¡¯d trusted me with it, but I hadn¡¯t exactly been responsible. I¡¯d used the code more than once to sneak out of our stronghold¡ªEarth¡¯s last crumbling bastion of safety¡ªto wander the streets with the few friends I had. Those nights felt like fragments of another life, moments of stolen freedom in a world falling apart. The stolen bottle of cheap liquor, the shared laughter, the bitter tang of smoke in the air. But those friends were gone now. All of them. Dead in the final days of Earth¡¯s collapse, while I was spared¡ªhidden away and smuggled aboard the Jericho. A knot formed in my throat, sharp and unrelenting. It was a miracle my father hadn¡¯t revoked the pass after catching me sneaking out that night. I still remembered the terror as two members of the Royal Guard dragged me back into the stronghold. They were towering, over nine feet tall, their movements fluid despite the massive power suits that encased them. I had tried to resist, thrashing and kicking, but it was like fighting against a wall of steel. One of them had effortlessly scooped me up, his mechanical grip unyielding yet careful not to harm me. They didn¡¯t speak¡ªjust loomed silently, their glowing visors casting an eerie red light across my tear-streaked face. Even then, their sheer might was enough to leave me trembling. When they delivered me to my father, I¡¯d expected his usual lectures or, worse, punishment. But instead, he¡¯d simply shaken his head, his expression a mixture of disappointment and something softer. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret trusting you,¡± he¡¯d said, his voice quiet but firm. That look, more than the Royal Guard¡¯s imposing presence, had stayed with me. It wasn¡¯t anger¡ªit was fear. Fear for me, for what I could lose, for the fragility of the world we were clinging to. And in that moment, I realized how much weight he carried, how much he believed in me despite everything. And now, here I was, years later, still holding onto that trust. Still using it. I opened the manual override console, my fingers trembling as the clean interface flickered into a command-line prompt. The cursor blinked, steady and unassuming, as if it had been waiting for me all along. ¡°Only one way to find out,¡± I muttered under my breath, the words barely audible. My fingers hovered over the keypad before finally typing the code: SOL-LUX-7.
Override Code: SOL-LUX-7
The system processed the input, the cursor blinking for an agonizing moment before a quiet beep broke the silence.
USER: Sol Voss Clearance Level: MEDIUM ACCESS GRANTED ¨C LIMITED FILES UNLOCKED
I froze. It had worked. My clearance level was higher than I¡¯d thought¡ªmedium. That wasn¡¯t nothing. But it also wasn¡¯t enough to unlock everything. A new menu appeared, listing the experimental projects. My stomach twisted as I read the names.
PROJECT FILES Code Name: Dragon ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Phoenix ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Gryphon ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Wyvern ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Chimera ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Leviathan ¨C [REDACTED] Code Name: Hydra ¨C [REDACTED]
Each name glared at me, cryptic and foreboding. My clearance wasn¡¯t high enough to see the details, but the names alone sent a chill through me, stirring half-remembered truths from my childhood. Dragon, I knew¡ªperhaps too well. But the others¡­ Phoenix. That one hit me hardest. It was my father¡¯s masterpiece, the project he had poured himself into more than any other. His dream had always been to conquer mortality, to make humanity something more. Immortal. Regenerative. The ultimate survivors. Seeing the name now, it was as if a dam had broken in my mind. The memories I had buried deep¡ªperhaps too deep¡ªrose like smoke from a dying fire, hazy but unrelenting. I had known the most about Phoenix, even as a child. My father had whispered to himself constantly, piecing together ideas, working late into the night. ¡°Immortality isn¡¯t just a goal, Sol¡ªit¡¯s a necessity. The universe won¡¯t wait for us to catch up.¡± Gryphon. My father had mentioned ¡°bending reality¡± once, as if it were a puzzle waiting to be solved. Quantum manipulation? Spacetime distortion? His words came back to me now, faint and distorted: ¡°If we control the rules of physics, Sol, we control our destiny.¡± Wyvern. Singularities. Gravitational anomalies. Controlled collapses. His fascination with the raw power of the universe had bordered on obsessive. ¡°Gravity is the ultimate weapon,¡± he had told Pierce once. ¡°Harness it, and nothing can stand against you.¡± Chimera. The name churned in my gut, stirring a deep unease. Hybridized, adaptive, predatory. It could mean anything¡ªa swarm of nanotech, or something horrifyingly alive. My father¡¯s voice, soft but relentless, whispered in my mind: ¡°Adaptation is survival. If humanity won¡¯t adapt naturally, we¡¯ll force it.¡± Leviathan. I thought of Knight¡¯s warning, spoken so quietly I almost hadn¡¯t heard it. ¡°A weapon to consume fleets,¡± she had said, her voice heavy with something close to fear. Was it a dark matter cannon? A swarm of something far worse? The idea lingered, a shadow in my thoughts. Hydra. This name coiled around my mind like a snake, slithering into the cracks of my memories. Something regenerative, endlessly growing. Like me? Or was that wishful thinking? My gaze flicked back to the note I had found, the words etched into my memory: ¡°Evolution is better left to nature and God.¡± Hydra reminded me of Lab 3, the sealed room that no one dared talk about. The warning note, the secrecy, the death. Were they working on Hydra there? Or Chimera? Or were they continuing Phoenix itself? My stomach twisted at the thought. What if it wasn¡¯t just one of them? What if they were working on all of them? I leaned back, my chest tightening. These weren¡¯t just projects. They were experiments, weapons, concepts dragged from the edge of science and thrust into reality. And if Dragon¡ªthe fusion core¡ªwas the backbone of the Jericho, what were the others? Contingencies? Fail-safes? Or something darker? I didn¡¯t want to think about the answers, but the memories wouldn¡¯t let me go. My father had whispered endlessly about Phoenix in his lab, speaking to himself, to Pierce, sometimes even to me. ¡°Humanity has limits,¡± he¡¯d said once, his voice sharp with frustration. ¡°But those limits are illusions, Sol. Evolution can¡¯t be left to chance. Nature and God don¡¯t care about our survival. We have to take control.¡± But I had seen what ¡°taking control¡± looked like. I had heard the cries, seen the faces of the human experiments he had pushed too far. My hands clenched at the thought. I didn¡¯t know what had happened in Lab 3, but I knew how far he had been willing to go for Phoenix. For all of it. He¡¯d called it ¡°progress.¡± Knight had called it madness¡­ but she hadn¡¯t just stood by in silence. She had helped him, even knowing it was wrong. She had been complicit in every step, her hands as stained as his, no matter how conflicted her expressions might have been. The names stirred fragments of my younger years, snatches of conversations whispered late at night. ¡°Sacrifice is necessary.¡± ¡°Evolution doesn¡¯t come without pain.¡± ¡°This will be our legacy.¡± Even then, I had wondered: Was he trying to save us? Or was he just playing God? My father¡¯s words from years ago came back to me: ¡°Sometimes you have to break the rules to save what matters.¡± But what if saving what mattered had required sacrifices too great to bear? What if his ambition had cost more than he was ever willing to admit? The datapad dimmed, flickering into standby mode. I set it aside, my hands trembling. The Jericho wasn¡¯t just a ship. It was a powder keg, its foundation built on secrets and ambition. And somewhere, buried beneath layers of encryption and redaction, were the answers I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to find. With a sigh, I pressed the screen again, bringing it back to life, and opened the mission briefing once again.
Mission Briefing: Hydrogen Harvest Operation "Feeding The Dragon" Location: Propulsion Bay B, Primary Hydrogen Intake Time: 0900 Hours Team Assignments:
  • Lead Engineer: Reid (Propulsion Bay Operations)
  • Assistant Technician: Sol (Monitoring Valves, Shield Stability)
  • Support Roles: Jimmy (Diagnostics), Ashly (Shield Management, Voss''s Supervisor), Garin (Core Intake Oversight)
Hydrogen Harvest Procedure: "Feeding the Dragon" Star Hydrogen Harvest
  • Utilize intake conduits to siphon hydrogen directly from the star¡¯s outer layers.
  • Ensure continuous flow to stabilize plasma fields in the fusion core.
  • Note: During the initiation of the process, Jericho will momentarily blink offline. To allocate maximum power to the shield systems and intake mechanisms, all non-critical systems¡ªincluding AI communication¡ªwill be temporarily shut down, leaving the ship operating at minimal capacity.
Valve Calibration
  • Monitor and adjust flow rates on primary and auxiliary intake valves in conjunction with Jericho¡¯s automated systems.
  • Sol''s Role: Serve as backup for Ashly, assisting in manual adjustments during emergencies or anomalies. Sol¡¯s involvement will primarily include turning valves or executing simple directives under Ashly¡¯s guidance.
Shield Maintenance
  • Maintain the integrity of heat and radiation shields throughout the operation.
  • Shields are critical to protect the crew and ship systems from the extreme conditions near the star¡¯s surface.
Core Stabilization
  • Direct harvested hydrogen into the fusion core to replenish reserves and sustain the plasma fields containing the black hole.
  • The process is highly risky and relies on precise teamwork between Reid, Ashly, and the rest of the engineering team to execute flawlessly.
Special Note from Vega "Sol, this process is similar to the tests you assisted with on Earth under your father¡¯s supervision. I know this isn¡¯t entirely unfamiliar to you¡ªyou¡¯ve done this before, and if you study the schematics and protocol, you¡¯ll be fine. Just remember: this isn¡¯t about reinventing the wheel; it¡¯s about following procedure and acting as an extra set of hands when Ashly needs you."
Warning: Fusion core containment relies on sustained plasma field stability. A fuel interruption of more than 60 seconds could result in catastrophic loss of containment. Failure to maintain balance between intake flow and core consumption will result in:
  • Plasma destabilization
  • Core collapse
  • Immediate destruction of vessel
Notes: Hydrogen is not a finite reserve, but plasma stabilization depends on continuous input. The fusion reaction generates power to sustain itself, yet even a temporary disruption could render the entire process unsalvageable.
I stared at the text, the words catastrophic loss of containment ringing in my head. The explanation was so clinical, so detached, yet it confirmed what I had long suspected: the crew knew the Jericho would be destroyed if the fusion core ever ran out of fuel. But the briefing didn¡¯t go into specifics¡ªit didn¡¯t mention why. Not the truth of the black hole caged within, nor the monstrous reality of what my father had created. That detail was carefully omitted, hidden beneath layers of technical jargon and sanitized warnings. I scrolled further, skimming through diagrams of the intake system. The conduits connecting the ship to the star were elegant in their simplicity, yet the process they managed was anything but. Hydrogen would be funneled into the plasma shell surrounding the black hole, maintaining the delicate balance that kept the singularity contained. The plasma fields weren¡¯t just a shield¡ªthey were a lifeline. And if the stars themselves run out of hydrogen? I blinked, my breath catching at the thought, even as I knew it was absurd. Stars lived for billions of years¡ªfar beyond the lifespan of the Jericho, or even the human species. The star we were orbiting now wouldn¡¯t burn out today, tomorrow, or even in a few billion years. But the thought still stuck with me, gnawing at the edges of my mind. What happens if we really succeed? If we survive long enough that immortality becomes more than just a dream? I let out a dry laugh, the sound hollow in the quiet cabin. ¡°Not my problem,¡± I muttered under my breath. By then, I¡¯d either be long gone or¡ªmore likely¡ªjust another footnote in this ship¡¯s improbable history. Still, the idea chilled me. For all the weight this mission carried, for all the impossible stakes, there was something strangely freeing about knowing that some problems were simply too far away to matter. But the thought lingered, sharper now: If we lived forever¡ªif my father¡¯s dream of immortality became reality¡ªwhat would that mean in a billion years? My chest tightened as I tried to imagine it: endless time, endless hunger, the stars themselves growing dim as the universe slowly unraveled. If this was his legacy, was it really salvation? Or was it just trading one kind of doom for another? I shook my head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I couldn¡¯t deny it: my father had always operated on a level far beyond the rest of humanity. His genius was matched only by his secrecy, and even now, after his death, I was still uncovering the pieces of his grand design. Phoenix. The word pulsed in my thoughts like a heartbeat. It wasn¡¯t just me¡ªit couldn¡¯t be. The name was too deliberate, too symbolic. A phoenix rose from its own ashes, reborn in flame. Had my father planned for something like that? A contingency? A way to rebuild, even if the Jericho fell? The datapad dimmed, the screen flickering into standby mode as I stared at it without really seeing. My hands trembled as I set it aside, the weight of the mission pressing down on me. The Jericho was a marvel, a fortress, a lifeboat. But it was also a gamble¡ªa desperate bet placed by a man who had always played for the highest stakes. I thought of the code names again: Dragon, Gryphon, Phoenix. Each one a whisper of his ambition, of the lines he had been willing to cross. And now, here I was, caught in the middle of it, trying to hold it all together with nothing but scraps of knowledge and a name that felt more like a curse than a legacy. My stomach churned as I glanced at the clock. Less than an hour until the mission briefing. Less than an hour until I had to step into the heart of the Jericho and face whatever came next. With a deep breath, I scrolled through the rest of the mission details, my unease growing with every word. Valve calibrations, shield stability, intake flow monitoring¡ªall precision tasks with no room for error. The others had been assigned critical roles, each one vital to the ship''s survival. My own role was listed as "minor," but it didn¡¯t feel that way. Even the smallest mistake could cascade into disaster. So much for easing into things. I set the datapad aside again and ran a hand through my unnaturally soft hair, trying to steady myself. At least I wasn¡¯t alone. Ashly, the team¡¯s quiet biologist, would be supervising my tasks. From the little I¡¯d seen of her, she seemed calm and steady, the kind of person who could keep things running smoothly without making a fuss. It wasn¡¯t much to go on, but she struck me as someone reliable¡ªmaybe even someone I could learn from. Of course, I didn¡¯t know her well enough to say for sure. Then there was Garin. Even without knowing much about him, I¡¯d already decided he was a self-righteous ass. If anyone on the team had a problem with Ashly, it was probably him, but I couldn¡¯t tell yet if that was a fair judgment or just my irritation talking. I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. First impressions didn¡¯t mean much out here, but I¡¯d have to start somewhere. For now, I¡¯d just have to trust Ashly and do my part¡ªlearn fast, keep up, and try not to mess up. Still, the thought of walking into the propulsion bay, into the heart of this impossibly dangerous machine, made my stomach twist. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. There was no time to sit here overthinking it. With everything on the line, the best I could do was keep up. I glanced back at the datapad, the schematic of the propulsion system glowing faintly on the screen. My role was simple in theory: monitor intake valves, adjust flow rates, and report anomalies. Straightforward tasks I¡¯d done for my father dozens of times, but the stakes made them feel monumental. One misstep could cascade into disaster. As I studied the layout of the bay¡ªits intricate web of conduits, shield generators, and control panels¡ªI tried to commit every detail to memory. The more I stared, the more my nerves threatened to get the better of me. With a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on the practical. One step at a time. Study the schematics, understand the role, get dressed, and go. Repeating the steps in my head like a mantra helped ground me, even if only a little. I pulled on the pressure suit, its sleek material hugging tightly against my skin. My movements felt mechanical as I adjusted the seals, making sure everything was in place. The suit was a shield, a layer of protection against the volatile environment I was about to step into¡ªbut it was also tight, far too tight, clinging in ways that made me cringe. I caught my reflection in the glossy surface of the cabin wall and winced. The snug material emphasized every curve, drawing attention to my chest in a way that made me feel like I was on display. My cheeks burned as I adjusted the seals again, trying and failing to make it less noticeable. Growing up, I¡¯d always hated how much attention my figure drew¡ªit felt like a trait I had inherited without asking for, one more thing about my body I couldn¡¯t control. Shaking off the frustration, I rummaged through the small pile of clothes Vega had left me the night before, pulling out an oversized shirt. It was soft and faded, the fabric worn to perfection, with an old pop culture logo I didn¡¯t recognize stretched across the front. It hung past my hips, comfortably loose, mercifully hiding the suit¡¯s awkward fit. Practicality be damned¡ªI needed something to make me feel less exposed, more like myself. I tugged the hem of the shirt down one last time, letting out a small sigh of relief. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to make me feel a little more human. ¡°Let¡¯s hope this works,¡± I muttered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the ship. Before leaving, I scarfed down a quick meal, barely tasting the reheated rations as I ate standing at the counter. My body needed the energy, even if my nerves made food hard to stomach. The bland meal was a small anchor of normalcy, a reminder that despite everything¡ªblack holes, classified projects, and impossible stakes¡ªlife still marched on in the little ways. With the last bite down, I grabbed my datapad and headed for the door. The Jericho thrummed beneath my feet as I stepped out, its heartbeat steady and unyielding. For the first time, though, it felt less like a comfort and more like a warning. First day of training, first mission. What a crazy fucking day to start. Chapter 6 : Feeding The Dragon The corridor stretched endlessly as I made my way to the mess hall, my boots echoing faintly against the metal floor. The faint hum of the Jericho vibrated beneath me, steady and constant. It wasn¡¯t comforting¡ªit was too large, too encompassing¡ªbut it was a reminder that I wasn¡¯t entirely alone, even if it felt like it most of the time. I paused briefly at one of the narrow portholes, its small frame offering a glimpse into the void beyond. The galaxy spread out in all directions, infinite and consuming, but today it wasn¡¯t empty. A blazing star grew larger as we approached, its golden light casting faint reflections against the polished metal walls of the corridor. It looked like a memory of home, an echo of the sun I was named after, but its light was harsher, unyielding¡ªa reminder that even beauty in space was dangerous. With a sharp breath, I pushed away from the porthole and continued toward the mess hall. Today wasn¡¯t just any day; it was my first real mission since waking up. The kind of day that could prove whether I was worth the risk they had taken. I could feel it. The knot of tension in my chest tightened with every step. The others would be waiting, and I already knew what that meant¡ªjudgment, barely veiled skepticism, and the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. They didn¡¯t see me; they saw my father¡¯s shadow. They expected a prodigy because I had grown up in his lab, surrounded by everything he¡¯d created. "The Princess of Humanity," Garin had called me, dripping with sarcasm, like my upbringing made me entitled rather than capable. Reid, on the other hand, liked to use it more playfully, a half-smile on his face whenever he said it¡ªlike he actually believed in me, like it was just a matter of time before I¡¯d prove them all right. Even with all that knowledge, with all the simulations and training with my father, I still didn¡¯t know if I could live up to what they imagined. But I wanted to try. For Reid, for the ones who believed in me... and even for those, like Garin, who didn¡¯t. The mess hall door slid open with a soft hiss, and the sterile blue lighting greeted me like an unwelcome spotlight. Team Two was already gathered around the central table. The air inside was heavy with unspoken tension, thicker than usual. As I stepped inside, every set of eyes turned to me. Reid acknowledged me first, his voice breaking the silence with an easy tone that didn¡¯t quite match the unease in his eyes. His messy blond hair stuck out at odd angles, a testament to his habit of running his hands through it whenever he was deep in thought. ¡°Morning, Sol. Ready for some fun?¡± He offered me a small grin, an attempt to lighten the mood. ¡°Morning,¡± I replied quietly, forcing a faint smile. My voice felt thin, almost lost in the room¡¯s hum. I pulled at the hem of my oversized T-shirt, trying to hide the way the pressure suit clung too tightly to my frame. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel a little less exposed. Jimmy stood off to the side, taking a sip of his coffee. His messy man bun and faint circles under his eyes gave him a perpetually tired look, but his gaze was sharp, flitting between Garin and me like he was waiting for a cue, seeking approval. Ashly lingered by the wall, her hands tugging at her sleeves, her gaze fixed on the floor like she wanted to disappear entirely. Her dark hair, pulled into a loose ponytail, fell over her face, almost as if she was trying to use it as a shield. Her nervousness seemed to seep into me, and I felt my stomach twist in response, the tension growing heavier with each moment that passed. Then there was Garin. He didn¡¯t bother hiding his disdain. His eyes, cold and calculating behind thin-framed glasses, locked onto me, sharp and dismissive, and his lips twisted into a sneer. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± he said, his voice dripping with derision. ¡°We¡¯re really doing this? Putting her on this mission?¡± Reid glanced up, his easy smile fading slightly. ¡°Garin, cut her some slack, all right?¡± His tone was still casual, but there was an edge of warning beneath it. The silence in the room stretched, uncomfortable and heavy. Garin took a step closer, his arms crossed. ¡°What? She¡¯s not her father¡ªlet¡¯s not kid ourselves. Julian Voss was a genius. He built this ship, these systems, all of it. And her?¡± He gestured toward me like I was a bad joke. ¡°She¡¯s just a kid who happened to be in the right place at the right time.¡± Reid¡¯s expression tightened, his gaze narrowing as he watched Garin. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Garin,¡± he said, his voice still steady but losing its patience. Jimmy chuckled nervously, glancing at Garin like he was seeking approval. ¡°I mean¡­ he¡¯s not wrong, is he?¡± He shrugged, trying to sound casual, but his voice wavered. ¡°We¡¯re about to skim hydrogen off a star. Do we really want to take chances here?¡± Reid turned his gaze sharply toward Jimmy, his tone dismissive. ¡°Shut up, kid. Quit wagging your tail.¡± Jimmy flinched slightly, his nervous chuckle dying instantly as he shifted his gaze to the floor. Ashly glanced up briefly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but Garin shot her a sharp look, and she immediately dropped her gaze again. "I¡¯ve been studying the diagrams, and I¡¯ve practiced this before..." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, feeling the weight of Garin''s stare. I could feel my defenses rising, even though my voice came out smaller than I wanted. ¡°Oh, great, simulations," Garin scoffed, his sneer deepening. "Genius might be genetic, but your father¡¯s kind of genius? That was a once-in-a-thousand-years fluke. You think just being around when this stuff was built makes you special? It doesn¡¯t. Out here, you¡¯re nothing but a liability, Princess. A dying Earth won''t give us another Julian Voss.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you again, Garin!¡± Reid snapped, stepping forward, his relaxed demeanor gone, replaced by barely restrained anger. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°She¡¯s here because she belongs here, Garin. We¡¯re all running on borrowed time, and you know damn well we need every hand we¡¯ve got¡ªeven if it¡¯s not the one you wanted.¡± He glanced at me, his expression softening for a fraction of a second before turning back to Garin. ¡°You can doubt her all you want, but if she wasn¡¯t capable, the Captain wouldn¡¯t have put her here. And last I checked, he¡¯s the one calling the shots, not you.¡± Garin turned to Reid, his expression darkening. ¡°Oh, I see what this is.¡± His voice dropped, colder now. ¡°You¡¯re defending her because you¡¯ve got a thing for her, huh? Hoping she¡¯ll notice? Maybe let you play hero for a bit?¡± Reid¡¯s fists clenched, and he took a step closer, his body taut with barely restrained fury. ¡°Say that again, Garin. I fucking dare you.¡± Before anything else could happen, a voice rang out, sharp and commanding. ¡°Enough.¡± Captain Warren stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room like a storm, drawing every eye toward him. His gaze fixed on Garin, cold and unyielding, his authority washing over the room like a tidal wave. ¡°You will not question my decisions,¡± he said, his tone brooking no argument. ¡°Sol is here because I trust her to do the job. If I trust her, then so will you. Is that clear?¡± Garin hesitated, his jaw working as if trying to hold back a retort. His glare flicked toward me for a fleeting moment before he straightened slightly and nodded, his voice clipped. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Warren¡¯s gaze swept across the room, pausing on each of us as though daring anyone else to speak. ¡°This isn¡¯t a debate. It¡¯s a mission. You all have roles to play, and I expect you to act like professionals. There will be no egos getting in the way. Is that understood?¡± Jimmy nodded almost immediately, his voice carrying a quick, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The nervous energy in his posture eased slightly, but his hands still fidgeted at his sides. Garin, slower and more reluctant, finally gave a curt nod, his lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Understood.¡± Warren¡¯s eyes lingered on Garin for an extra beat before he turned toward the doorway, his voice steady. ¡°Lieutenant Commander Vega, take over.¡± The air seemed to shift as Vega entered the room, her sharp, no-nonsense demeanor pulling every gaze toward her. Her short dark hair, streaked with gray, framed her stern face, and her hazel eyes held a focused intensity that brooked no argument. Without preamble, she tapped the control panel on the table, and the holographic interface sprang to life. A detailed schematic of the Jericho¡¯s propulsion systems hovered above the surface, glowing softly in the dim light. ¡°Team assignments are as follows,¡± Vega began, her voice brisk and efficient, cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°Team One will remain on the bridge. Captain Warren will pilot the ship during the hydrogen skimming process, and I will handle navigation to ensure a stable course and distance from the star¡¯s surface. Holt will oversee plasma shield integrity, and Yates is on standby for medical support.¡± She gestured toward the rest of us, the rotating schematic casting pale blue light across her sharp features. ¡°Team Two¡ªReid, Garin, Ashly, Jimmy, and Sol¡ªyou¡¯ll be working in the propulsion bay. Reid will lead the team and manage intake flow and system diagnostics. Garin will oversee core stability and monitor output levels. Ashly, shield management is your responsibility. You will ensure the plasma fields surrounding the core remain stable during intake. Jimmy, you¡¯ll assist with valve calibration.¡± Her gaze landed on me, unwavering. ¡°Sol, you¡¯ll be working directly under Ashly¡¯s supervision. Your role is secondary. You¡¯re here to observe, assist, and learn. While you have more experience with the core than most due to your father¡¯s simulations, this is your first field mission. Follow protocol and listen to Ashly. Is that clear?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± I said, forcing my voice to stay steady even as I felt Garin¡¯s glare burning into the side of my head. Vega¡¯s sharp eyes shifted to Ashly, who nodded quickly, her shoulders hunched slightly as though trying to shrink out of sight. ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am,¡± Ashly said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Satisfied, Vega straightened. ¡°This mission is straightforward but high-risk. We¡¯re skimming hydrogen directly from a star¡¯s corona to refuel the core. The plasma shields must remain stable at all times. A single miscalculation could result in catastrophic damage to the Jericho. Precision and teamwork are non-negotiable. There is no room for hesitation or error.¡± She paused, her gaze sweeping the room once more. ¡°Any questions?¡± The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of the mission pressing down on all of us. Even Garin, whose jaw was tight with barely restrained frustration, remained silent. ¡°Good,¡± Vega said curtly. ¡°We leave in ten minutes. Gear up and report to your stations.¡± As the crew began to move, the tension in the room seemed to shift, no longer sharp and cutting but dense and oppressive. Jimmy nodded quickly and hurried out, while Garin lingered, his expression dark and brooding as he stalked toward the door. Reid approached me before I could follow, his expression softening slightly. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Sol,¡± Reid said quietly, his voice steady but low enough that only I could hear. ¡°You know the system better than anyone here. Hell, maybe even better than me¡ªyou were there when it was built.¡± He gave me a quick wink, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ¡°Just focus on the task and stick to what you know. Let Ashly take the lead when it¡¯s her call, and back her up if she needs it.¡± I nodded, his words a small comfort. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, managing a faint smile. Ashly lingered nearby, her tablet clutched tightly in her hands. She glanced at me briefly, her expression unsure, before speaking in a tentative voice. ¡°I... I just wanted to say... don¡¯t worry about Garin. He¡¯s like that with everyone.¡± Her voice softened further. ¡°I know you¡¯ll do fine.¡± I offered her a small, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her nerves even as my own threatened to overwhelm me. ¡°Thanks, Ashly. I¡¯m glad we¡¯re working together.¡± She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing slightly, and hurried out of the room without another word. As I gathered my gear, I couldn¡¯t help but think back to the countless simulations I¡¯d run with my father. I knew the core¡¯s intricacies inside and out, had memorized its systems and flow dynamics, had even seen what could go wrong if something failed. But this wasn¡¯t a simulation. There were no controlled variables here, no margin for error. This was real, and the stakes couldn¡¯t be higher. I remembered the first time my father had shown me the black hole at the core¡ªthe point when he had captured reality itself, bent it to power this ship. The sight of it, contained and somehow still untamed, had left me speechless. The sheer audacity of it, the realization of what he had done, lingered even now¡ªa reminder of both his genius and the danger inherent in all of this. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the corridor. The faint hum of the Jericho¡¯s systems vibrated through my boots, a steady reminder of the ship¡¯s immense power and fragility. I tightened my grip on my datapad, Vega¡¯s words ringing in my ears. This wasn¡¯t about proving myself. It wasn¡¯t about living up to my father¡¯s legacy or silencing Garin¡¯s doubts. It was about survival. And I couldn¡¯t afford to fail. As I made my way to the propulsion bay with the rest of Team Two, the tension was palpable. The faint hum of the Jericho¡¯s systems reverberated through the metal walls, a steady pulse that seemed to amplify the weight of what lay ahead. Reid led the group with his usual easy stride, but even his relaxed posture couldn¡¯t hide the edge of seriousness in his eyes. Behind him, Jimmy adjusted his gloves with quick, precise movements, a determined look in his eyes as he focused on the task ahead. Garin walked with purposeful steps, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the sharp edges of his judgment without even looking at him. Ashly lagged slightly behind, her eyes fixed on the tablet clutched tightly to her chest, her movements stiff and mechanical. I brought up the rear, my datapad clutched so tightly my fingers ached. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the ship itself were pressing down on me, a silent reminder of the stakes. This wasn¡¯t a simulation. This wasn¡¯t the controlled environment of my father¡¯s lab. One mistake here could mean catastrophe¡ªnot just for me, but for everyone on this ship. The propulsion bay doors slid open with a low hiss, revealing the cavernous chamber within. The ion engines loomed overhead, their pulsing energy casting faint, flickering shadows across the walls. The blue glow of the shield generators filled the space with an otherworldly light, cold and unyielding. It was beautiful in a way, but it wasn¡¯t comforting. The sheer scale of it, the raw power contained within, was a stark reminder of how small we were in the face of the forces we were attempting to control. Reid moved to the central console with practiced ease, his fingers dancing over the controls as he brought up the system diagnostics. "All right, Team Two, let¡¯s do this by the book," he said, his voice steady but firm. "Ashly, you¡¯ve got shield management. Jimmy, get the valves calibrated. Garin, core stability. Sol, you¡¯re monitoring the secondary flow levels and assisting Ashly if needed." Everyone moved to their stations without a word. I found my place beside Ashly, her trembling fingers tapping at the screen as she brought up the shield modulation settings. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. I¡¯d done this before¡ªat least, I¡¯d done parts of it. The simulations had prepared me for the process, but they hadn¡¯t prepared me for the oppressive heat, the electric tang of the air, or the subtle, almost imperceptible tremors that rippled through the ship as we edged closer to the star¡¯s corona. ¡°Jericho, initiate AI shutdown,¡± Reid called out. ¡°Affirmative,¡± Jericho¡¯s voice replied, calm and detached. ¡°AI shutdown commencing in three¡­ two¡­ one.¡± ¡°Team Two, this is Vega,¡± her voice came over the comms, brisk and unyielding. ¡°T minus thirty seconds until impact zone. Prepare for hydrogen intake. No room for errors.¡± The hum of the ship shifted as all power diverted to the shields. Jericho¡¯s presence went silent, replaced by an eerie emptiness that filled the air. The lights dimmed significantly, and the cold glow of the shield generators grew brighter, their flickering casting sharp, jagged shadows that danced across the walls. Without Jericho, the ship felt hollow¡ªlike a lifeless shell drifting in the void. ¡°All right, Ashly, Sol,¡± Reid called out. ¡°Keep those shield levels steady. No fluctuations.¡± Ashly nodded stiffly, her eyes glued to her screen. I focused on my own console, monitoring the flow levels as the intake valves began to open. Vega¡¯s voice echoed in the background as she coordinated Team One on the bridge. ¡°Approaching target. T minus ten seconds. Brace for turbulence.¡± My pulse quickened, matching the rhythmic pounding of the engines as I kept my gaze locked on the readouts in front of me. The screen numbers jittered, the flow of hydrogen unstable for a moment before finding balance. Everything else seemed to fade away¡ªGarin¡¯s glares, the oppressive presence of the others¡ªall of it slipped into the background, leaving only me, my console, and the pulsing core. ¡°Five seconds,¡± Vega¡¯s voice crackled. ¡°Four¡­ Three¡­ Two¡­ One¡­ Engaging intake.¡± The comms went dark. A beat of silence. Then the whole ship shuddered, the sudden, violent impact of entering the corona rippling through the hull like a shockwave. I gritted my teeth, my hands flying over the controls, my fingers tapping commands to maintain the shield modulation. The hum of the engines roared around us, filling the space with a low, bone-deep vibration that threatened to drown everything else out. Without Jericho and with the comms quiet, the only sound was the relentless thrumming of the ship, a reminder of how small we were against the fiery storm of the star¡¯s corona. ¡°Keep it steady,¡± Reid¡¯s voice rang out, clear and steady, cutting through the overwhelming noise. Ashly¡¯s gaze flickered toward me, her expression tight with concentration, and I gave her a nod, keeping my focus. The screen in front of me filled with readouts¡ªpressure, temperature, shield strength¡ªeach one a crucial thread that kept us from being incinerated.
I zoned in, my world narrowing to the steady data flowing across my console. The heat was overwhelming, the air electric. Each movement of my hands was deliberate as I worked to stabilize the flow. There was no space for fear, no room for mistakes. Just the numbers, the readings, and the pulsing core that kept us alive. ¡°Hold those levels, Sol,¡± Reid¡¯s voice broke through, grounding me. I adjusted, fine-tuning the flow. The pressure spiked momentarily, and I forced myself to breathe, steadying my hands as I recalibrated. Seconds felt like hours as the ship bore through the corona, the shield generators glowing bright under the strain. My fingers moved instinctively, reacting to the subtle shifts in the readouts, adjusting and rebalancing. All I could hear was the hum of the engines and the rapid thudding of my heartbeat, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a physical force. I had to be enough. Right here, right now. For a while, it looked like we might make it. The shields held steady, the flow levels stayed within range, and the core intake remained stable under Garin¡¯s watchful eye. The oppressive heat of the bay became manageable, replaced by the cold, clinical focus of the task at hand. I allowed myself a small breath of relief. Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªwe could pull this off.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Then everything went wrong. A flicker of movement caught my eye¡ªa shape shifting in the shadows near the far end of the bay. My gaze darted toward it, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, there was nothing, just the play of flickering light from the shield generators. But then, there it was¡ªtwo glowing yellow eyes staring at me from inside a nearby vent, unblinking and filled with malice. My heart skipped a beat, my pulse skyrocketing as fear clamped around my chest. It was the same eyes I had seen before¡ªcold, watching, patient. The figure behind them was tall, thin, its limbs bent and unnatural as it hovered just beyond the grate. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real. It can¡¯t be real. The eyes were getting closer. Why are they getting closer? I tried to tear my gaze away, but I couldn¡¯t. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, my hands frozen over the console. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real. My skin prickled, and the eyes narrowed, filled with that same malice as they inched closer. I felt like I was drowning in it¡ªin the dark, in those cold eyes. ¡°Sol!¡± Ashly¡¯s voice broke through, shaky but insistent. ¡°Sol, focus! We need you! The pressure¡ªit¡¯s out of control!¡± Her words snapped through the haze of fear like a jolt of electricity. I forced myself to look away, my heart hammering in my chest as I dragged my gaze to the console, the screen flashing an angry red, pressure readings spiking well beyond the safe range. Focus. Focus. You can do this. Panic surged through me, my hands trembling as I fought to adjust the valves. It¡¯s not real. The eyes aren¡¯t real. Focus on the damn controls. ¡°Sol, what the hell are you doing?!¡± Garin¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, harsh and dripping with accusation. ¡°You¡¯re screwing it all up!¡± ¡°Shut up and focus on that core, Garin!¡± Reid snapped, his voice filled with urgency. ¡°Sol, come on, you have to move! I know you can!¡± My fingers trembled over the controls, the flashing red of the warning lights blinding in my peripheral vision. The pressure readings continued to spike, the values rising faster than I could keep up with. My heart pounded as I forced myself to breathe, to think, but the fear had sunk in deep, turning every movement sluggish, every thought muddled. It¡¯s all falling apart. This is my fault. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m trying!¡± I shouted back, my voice cracking with desperation. My gaze darted across the console, searching for something¡ªanything¡ªthat could help. The alarms blared again, almost drowning out Ashly¡¯s voice. ¡°Sol, you have to vent the pressure the same time I do!¡± Ashly¡¯s voice was frantic, but there was an edge of determination in it. ¡°Now!¡± Vent the pressure. My mind struggled to process her words, my thoughts slow, like they were moving through quicksand. ¡°Sol, now!¡± Jimmy¡¯s voice joined in, sharp and commanding. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this!¡± Move. You have to move. I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. I forced my trembling hands to steady, to find the controls I needed. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, but I pushed it aside, focusing on Ashly and Reid¡¯s words, on the task in front of me. The next few moments stretched into eternity. My fingers flew over the console, adjusting valves, rerouting power. The propulsion bay shuddered again, the shields surging, but this time I was ready. I forced myself to breathe, focusing on each movement of my hands. Slowly¡ªpainstakingly¡ªthe pressure readings began to stabilize, the alarms quieting, their shrill wail fading into a low hum. The tension in my chest eased, but just for an instant. The ship roared like a wounded beast, the core at the heart of Jericho throbbing like some monstrous, vengeful heart. The heat surged, suffocating and clawing at my skin. The propulsion bay tilted violently, as if struck by some colossal force from below. No, no, no! Relief shattered as I lost my footing, thrown across the metal floor like a ragdoll. My ankle twisted underneath me with a sickening crunch, and white-hot pain shot up my leg. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs as I crashed down, every bone in my body jarred by the force. I tried to cry out, but only a strangled gasp escaped my lips, pain radiating through me in waves. Beside me, Ashly was thrown as well. She slammed into the bulkhead with a brutal thud, her head snapping back, eyes rolling as she crumpled to the floor, limp and unmoving. Her tablet skidded away, clattering against the metal before coming to rest near a wall. My chest tightened at the sight, a fresh surge of panic making my pulse pound even faster. But no one moved to help¡ªeveryone else was too focused, their hands flying over consoles to stabilize the core. It was up to me. Get up, Sol. I clutched my broken ankle with one hand, pain radiating through me, while my other hand reached desperately for the console, fingers stretching to regain control. You have to get up. They need you. ¡°Damn it, Sol!¡± Garin barked, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. ¡°Get it together!¡± Reid¡¯s voice, urgent but softer, reached me. ¡°Sol, you¡¯re stronger than this. Come on.¡± They need me. The thought sliced through the fog of pain and fear. I forced myself to breathe, to block out Garin¡¯s yelling, to focus on Reid¡¯s voice. I couldn¡¯t afford to fail¡ªnot now. Not like this. Biting down against the pain, I forced my body to move. My broken ankle screamed in protest, but I ignored it, dragging myself back to the console. My fingers found the controls again, shaking as I fought to adjust the pressure, to stabilize what was left. Pain flared¡ªsharp, blinding, a searing agony that took my breath away. The core throbbed, its energy too much to contain¡ªthe plasma from the corona was flooding in, wild and untamed. I could feel the vibrations in my bones, my teeth rattling in my skull as the vessel struggled against the star''s fury. The familiar, sickening warmth of regeneration started in my ankle, the bone knitting itself back together with a heat that seared through my body. It was agony¡ªeach fragment of bone splintering, then painfully fusing, muscle and tissue pulling taut as the injury mended itself. I couldn¡¯t hold back the scream this time¡ªa raw, hoarse sound that tore its way out of my throat, my vision blurring with tears. As the bone finally fused, a deep pang of hunger shot through me, my body draining whatever fat reserves it had to fuel the rapid healing. The emptiness gnawed at my insides, a reminder of the cost of what I was¡ªof how my own body betrayed me, demanding payment for each unnatural recovery. The ship jolted again, a shudder that rattled the bulkheads. The lights flickered, then dimmed, casting everything in a sickly half-glow that made the shadows dance across the bay like writhing specters. I forced myself to stay conscious, to push the pain to the back of my mind, even as nausea clawed at me. Through the haze, I saw Jimmy... Suddenly, without warning, Jimmy came barreling out of nowhere. Before I could react, he slammed into me, shoving me off the console with brutal force. ¡°Move, bitch!¡± he snarled. The world flipped as I fell face-first to the floor, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs. My hands barely caught me, but my broken ankle twisted beneath me, the unfinished healing snapping apart with a sickening crunch. White-hot pain shot through my leg, more intense this time, blinding me for a moment. ¡°Fuck! Ashly¡¯s down!¡± Jimmy shouted, his voice panicked, eyes wide as he glanced at her limp form. ¡°Shut the fuck up and fix the goddamn problem, Jimmy!¡± Garin barked, not sparing a single look toward Ashly or me. His voice was dripping with contempt. ¡°We¡¯re about to fucking die, you idiot!¡± I tried to move, tried to get back up, but the pain radiating from my ankle was blinding, my body refusing to cooperate. All I could do was grit my teeth, fighting against the scream that threatened to tear from my throat. But in that moment, my eyes found the vent again¡ªand those damn golden eyes were gone. The pressure readings began to stabilize, the blaring alarms finally fading into a lower, more manageable warning tone. But the damage had been done¡ªacrid smoke filled the air, and scorch marks marred the consoles where they had overloaded, the stench of burnt circuitry sharp and biting. Garin¡¯s eyes were on me, narrowed, suspicion etched into every line of his face. He glanced down at my leg¡ªalready healing far too quickly¡ªthen back at my face, something cold and calculating behind his gaze. He had seen the way my ankle had twisted, heard the crunch of bone, and now watched as the injury mended itself before his eyes. But he stayed silent, only letting his sneer deepen. Turning away, he spoke, his voice dripping with venom. ¡°What did I say? Your highness is dead weight. Can¡¯t even keep the valves steady. Daydreaming, almost gets us all killed.¡± His laugh was cruel, slicing through the air. Reid steadied himself, getting back to his feet, his gaze locking onto Garin. ¡°Back off, Garin.¡± Garin wasn¡¯t done. He stepped closer, his eyes burning into mine. ¡°You think just because your daddy built this ship, you¡¯re part of the crew? You¡¯re nothing. Worse than dead weight. A damn danger.¡± His words struck like a slap, digging deep. The regeneration had fixed my ankle, but it couldn¡¯t touch the seething anger inside. My teeth clenched, and I forced myself to meet his stare. ¡°Fuck you, Garin,¡± I muttered, the words weak but all I could manage. I couldn¡¯t talk about the eyes I¡¯d seen without sounding insane, so I swallowed my shame instead. Garin straightened, his sneer deepening. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here, Princess.¡± Before he could continue, Reid cut in, his voice sharp and unwavering. ¡°Enough, Garin. You¡¯re acting like it¡¯s all on Sol, but it was your job to keep it steady. She shouldn¡¯t have had to step in.¡± Garin¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t reply. The silence was heavy, filled only with the hum of the ship. Jimmy shifted, his voice laced with mockery. ¡°Yeah, well, she wasn¡¯t paying attention. Screaming like she was gonna die, grabbing her leg. And now? Fine, like nothing happened.¡± The taunt stung. They didn¡¯t know, couldn¡¯t know what had really happened. My body had healed itself, but I hadn¡¯t told anyone. No one knew how it worked¡ªhow it left me hollow and hungry, as if the process stretched me too thin. Garin gave one last sneer, shaking his head. ¡°Lab rat,¡± he spat. I stayed frozen, fists clenched at my sides, forcing down the rage that threatened to spill over. The ache in my leg was fading, but the tension in my chest only grew. I could feel their eyes on me¡ªJimmy¡¯s, Reid¡¯s, even Ashly¡¯s¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t look at them. Not yet. Garin turned to Reid, their eyes locking in a tense moment. For the first time, Reid pulled off his sunglasses, revealing intense green eyes beneath. There was a fire in them, a sharp intensity I hadn¡¯t seen before. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You¡¯re a fucking bully, Garin. And I¡¯m done with your shit. You need to learn that sometimes your mouth writes checks the rest of you can''t cash." His fists clenched, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if Reid would take it further. The air seemed to thicken around them, Garin standing tall and lanky while Reid, shorter but twice as wide, radiated strength. Both men were imposing in their own way. Their bodies tensed, waiting for the other to make a move. All eyes shifted from me to the two men, the room holding its breath. The intercom crackled, breaking through the chaos. Vega''s voice was steady, almost a stark contrast to the mayhem in the bay. ¡°AI coming back online¡ªstabilizing critical systems. We¡¯re exiting the corona! Team Two, report to the bridge immediately.¡± Ashly¡¯s voice was small, almost hesitant. ¡°Please stop, Reid... We should go.¡± Garin snapped his glare to Ashly, giving her a cold, withering look, but he didn¡¯t say anything. Reid nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on Garin. ¡°You got lucky this time. Let''s go, Sol." Garin grumbled something under his breath and stormed off, Jimmy following after him, their steps echoing down the corridor. ¡°Thank you,¡± I whispered. Reid¡¯s gaze softened as he looked at me, a mix of concern and frustration on his face. ¡°Anytime, Princess. Always happy to be your knight in shining armor." He flashed me a small grin. "Now, let¡¯s hurry." I nodded, swallowing the anger that threatened to spill over as I pushed myself to my feet. Reid¡¯s hand appeared in front of me, steady and warm¡ªan unspoken offer of help. I hesitated, my pride flaring, but finally, I took it, letting him pull me up. My body might¡¯ve healed, but my pride hadn¡¯t. As I stood, I wiped away a small tear that had escaped, trying to keep my composure. Reid gave me a soft, encouraging smile, but I quickly turned my face away, not wanting him¡ªanyone¡ªto see how shattered my pride was. It felt too raw, too exposed. Ashly struggled to her feet, Reid helping her up after me, her expression pale and shaken. She avoided Garin¡¯s gaze, keeping her focus on Reid and me. Jimmy stood quietly near the console, his face flushed, his eyes darting between us like he wanted to disappear into the walls. ¡°Come on, Ash. You okay to walk?¡± Reid¡¯s voice was gentle, filled with concern. She nodded, though her eyes were wide and her hands still shook slightly. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. We moved as a group, the propulsion bay oppressive as we left. My body ached, each step a reminder of the ordeal, but I kept my head up, determined to appear stronger than I felt. Garin¡¯s words echoed like poison I couldn¡¯t shake. Ahead, Jimmy carried Ashly, supporting her as Reid had instructed. Garin led, his boots echoing against the metal floor, disdain still radiating off him. He was waiting for me to fail again¡ªto prove I didn¡¯t belong. I swallowed, pushing the doubt down. The corridor seemed narrower as we headed to the bridge, the ship¡¯s hum thrumming beneath our feet. Nanobots and repair drones were already at work, patching damaged panels, the burn marks and torn metal evidence of the earlier chaos. The Jericho was wounded but still holding, fighting alongside us. Reid stayed beside me, offering a nod when I glanced at him. I forced a grim smile, grateful for his support. Whatever lay ahead, I had to face it. The door to the bridge loomed ahead, heavy and foreboding. Anxiety twisted in my stomach, but I took a deep breath. Whatever Captain Warren had waiting for us, I was ready. The door slid open with a low hiss, spilling bright light into the corridor. Captain Warren stood at the center of the room, his eyes narrowing as he took us in¡ªlingering on Ashly¡¯s disheveled state, Jimmy¡¯s downcast expression, and finally landing on me. His gaze was sharp, assessing, and the weight of it threatened to crush me. But I held it. Fists clenched. Heart pounding. I wouldn¡¯t let fear take hold. Not now. ¡°We¡¯re here, Captain,¡± Reid said, his voice steady, though there was a defiant edge to it. ¡°Team Two, reporting as ordered.¡± Warren¡¯s expression remained unreadable. His eyes, sharp and calculating, moved over each of us in turn. There was no warmth there¡ªno reassurance. Only expectation. And maybe that was enough. ¡°Get in position,¡± he said, his voice like stone. ¡°We¡¯re not out of this yet.¡± We moved forward, taking our places. The bridge fell into a tense silence, broken only by the hum of the ship, as we braced for whatever came next. The vastness of space outside might be indifferent, the universe unforgiving, but it didn¡¯t matter. We had a job to do, and we would do it. Slowly, the turbulence began to subside. The solar storm that had shaken the Jericho was fading, the erratic readings on the consoles smoothing out as the systems stabilized. The flashing warning lights on the screens blinked from red to green, one after another. Quietly, the crew fell back into their roles¡ªoperating as if we hadn¡¯t just been a breath away from disaster. I glanced at the displays, watching as the nanobots got to work, repairing damage to the ship. They used minerals and resources from the cargo to patch ruptures and rebuild torn metal¡ªsilent and efficient. And it hit me: the Jericho and I were the same. Both of us were mending ourselves, using whatever we had left, no matter the cost. My body was drawing from its own reserves to heal, just like the ship was taking from its stores. Both of us trying to hold it together in the face of the void, each wound exacting a toll we could never fully repay. But I forced the thought aside. There wasn¡¯t time for that. Not now. I had a job to do, and I couldn¡¯t afford to let my own doubts hold me back. Captain Warren''s voice sliced through the tension, commanding and sharp. ¡°Status report.¡± His gaze swept across the room, landing on each member of Team Two. ¡°I want to know exactly what went wrong down there.¡± Reid stepped forward, his face flushed but resolute. ¡°Captain, the pressure surge was unexpected. We managed to stabilize, but it was rougher than we anticipated.¡± Warren''s eyes flicked over to Garin. ¡°Garin?¡± Garin straightened, his expression dark, a scowl settling on his face. ¡°The problem wasn¡¯t the surge, Captain. It was Sol,¡± he said, his voice dripping with venom. ¡°She froze up at the worst possible time¡ªmissed the adjustment window completely. If it weren¡¯t for Jimmy, we would¡¯ve been torn apart.¡± Jimmy looked at the ground, his eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He didn''t contradict Garin''s words¡ªif anything, he seemed to quietly relish the praise, eager to stay in Garin''s good graces. Ashly, still pale from her fall, gave a slight nod, her gaze fixed on the console. She looked conflicted, clearly not wanting Sol in trouble, but unwilling to challenge Garin openly either. ¡°Is that true, Sol?¡± Warren¡¯s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it¡ªsharp, demanding. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to defend myself, to explain what I¡¯d seen¡ªthe shadow, the eyes staring at me from the vent. But the words caught in my throat. No one would believe me, not after everything else. Not with Garin ready to tear into me again. ¡°I¡ªI hesitated,¡± I admitted, my voice small, barely above a whisper. ¡°I was trying to stabilize the valve, but¡ª¡± ¡°She hesitated,¡± Garin cut in, his voice mocking, loud enough for everyone to hear. ¡°Captain, we don¡¯t have time for hesitation. Not out here. Not when we¡¯re skimming a goddamn star. She¡¯s a liability.¡± Reid shot Garin a glare, stepping closer to me. "She¡¯s still learning, Garin. We all make mistakes. Besides, you slipped up on the core stability¡ªdon¡¯t pretend you¡¯re perfect." Garin scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "That''s what the help is for, Reid. Wilks never would have made that mistake, and you know it. We need someone else from cryo, not royalty." ¡°Enough,¡± Warren¡¯s voice cut through the room, cold and final. He looked at me for a long moment, his gaze steady, weighing me. I tried not to flinch under his scrutiny, tried to look stronger than I felt. He finally nodded, dismissing the rest of the team with a flick of his wrist. ¡°Team Two, you¡¯re dismissed. I expect a full written report by tomorrow.¡± Warren looked at Reid, his tone brisk. ¡°Reid, help Yates get Ashly to the med bay, then get to repairs.¡± Reid gave a quick nod and moved to support Ashly as Yates was already by her side, her usual calm demeanor in place. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Ash. You¡¯re gonna be all right,¡± she said, guiding her gently. As they left, Warren turned to Garin and Jimmy. ¡°Garin, Jimmy¡ªget to work with Jericho. Full diagnostics on all systems. I want to know if anything¡¯s out of place after skimming that star.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Garin muttered, and Jimmy added a quick, ¡°Right away, Captain,¡± as they moved toward their stations, leaving just me and Warren on the bridge. Warren¡¯s expression softened slightly as he gestured toward the door, turning his attention to me. ¡°Walk with me, Sol,¡± he said. ¡°Vega, Holt¡ªtake over piloting and begin warp prep once repairs are complete,¡± Captain Warren ordered, his voice calm but firm. As I hesitated before following him, I took in their reactions. Vega and Holt had watched the events unfold passively, their expressions unreadable as they nodded at the captain¡¯s command. Yates had looked torn, her gaze had flickering between Warren and me, a flicker of concern lingering in her eyes. The others stayed focused on their tasks, acting as if the confrontation had never happened. I nodded at Warren, falling in step behind him as he led the way off the bridge. We walked in silence, the hum of the ship filling the emptiness between us, our footsteps echoing against the metal floor. My stomach twisted with unease, the weight of Garin¡¯s words still pressing down on me. Captain Warren stopped at the mess hall, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. He stepped inside and gestured for me to follow. The room was empty, the lights dim, and the faint scent of recycled air hung in the space, mixed with a metallic tang that lingered. Warren walked over to the counter, opening a small cabinet and pulling out two glasses and a bottle. He poured a measure of dark amber liquid into each, then slid one across the table toward me. I stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him, confused. ¡°Sit down, Sol,¡± he said, his voice losing some of its earlier edge. ¡°You look like you could use a drink.¡± Slowly, I sat, my hands still trembling slightly as I picked up the glass. The liquid inside caught the light, shimmering faintly, and I hesitated before bringing it to my lips, the sharp bite of alcohol stinging my throat as I swallowed. Warren took a drink from his own glass, his eyes never leaving mine. ¡°You know, Garin¡¯s an ass,¡± he said after a moment, his voice almost conversational, like he was talking about the weather. ¡°He¡¯s smart, but he¡¯s got no sense of restraint. He thinks the only way to get someone to improve is to tear them down first.¡± I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Warren set his glass down, leaning forward slightly. ¡°But I¡¯m not interested in his opinion. I¡¯m interested in yours. What happened back there?¡± I swallowed, my mouth dry. ¡°I... I thought I saw something,¡± I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. ¡°In the vent. I¡ªit was just for a second, but... it was enough to throw me off.¡± Warren¡¯s gaze was steady, unreadable. He didn¡¯t laugh, didn¡¯t scoff. He just nodded, considering my words. ¡°Something in the vent?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I said, my voice trembling slightly. I hesitated, the fear of sounding delusional clawing at me. I chose my words carefully, keeping the details vague. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it was... just movement. It could have been nothing.¡± He raised a hand, stopping me. ¡°You¡¯re not the first one to mention seeing strange things on this ship,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But I¡¯ve checked the systems, and everything¡¯s clear. There¡¯s no one else awake¡ªonly us.¡± He leaned back, taking another drink, his expression softening slightly. ¡°It¡¯s likely a side effect of cryo. A lot of people experience hallucinations and memory loss for a while after waking up. What I need to know, Sol, is whether you¡¯re going to let this beat you. Garin¡¯s wrong about you. You¡¯ve got potential, but you¡¯ve got to find your feet out here. Mistakes happen, but it¡¯s how you deal with them that counts.¡± His words hung in the air between us, heavy and meaningful. I nodded, swallowing hard. ¡°I won¡¯t let it happen again,¡± I said, my voice firm, though my heart still pounded in my chest. Warren watched me for a long moment before he finally nodded, the tension easing from his shoulders. He gave me a small, almost imperceptible smile. ¡°Good. Because we need you, Sol. This ship needs you. Don¡¯t forget that.¡± He finished his drink, setting the glass down with a soft clink before standing. ¡°Get some rest. Tomorrow¡¯s a new day, and we¡¯ve still got a long way to go.¡± I almost asked him then¡ªabout Lab 3, about what had happened there, and the secrets buried beneath layers of silence. But as I watched him rise, already dismissing me, his mind moving on, I thought better of it. His earlier dismissal of the hallucinations made me hesitate, made me question if he¡¯d take my concerns seriously or just see them as more evidence that I wasn¡¯t ready. So instead, I just nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yes, sir." I watched as Warren left the mess hall, the door sliding shut behind him. I looked down at the glass in my hand, the last remnants of the amber liquid catching the dim light. Warren¡¯s words echoed in my mind¡ªboth a challenge and a reassurance. I¡¯m not my father, and I¡¯m not perfect. But maybe, just maybe, I could be enough. For now, that¡¯s all I can ask for. But even as I thought it, I couldn¡¯t shake the image of the yellow eyes in the vent, the way they seemed to watch me¡ªfilled with a malice that sent chills down my spine. Was it real? Or am I just losing my grip, letting fear take over? Warren¡¯s words were comforting, but they didn¡¯t erase the doubt gnawing at me. What if it wasn¡¯t just a side effect of cryo? What if something really is there, hiding in the shadows of this ship? Or what if I really am losing my mind? I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. I tipped back the glass, draining it in one gulp. The burn of the alcohol warmed me, spreading through me in a brief buzz that offered a fleeting sense of calm. I took a deep breath, the tightness in my chest loosening¡ªjust a little. I still have a lot to prove¡ªto the crew and to myself. But the certainty I¡¯ve clung to is slipping. Garin¡¯s sneering words won¡¯t leave me alone, but what gnaws at me more is his silence about what he saw. My ankle snapped, and it healed right before his eyes. He mocked me, called me dead weight, but didn¡¯t say a word about that. Why? What game is he playing? I can¡¯t keep stumbling in the dark¡ªnot anymore. Whatever happened in Lab 3, whatever my father''s work did there¡ªit holds the answers I need. I have to figure it out. I need the truth¡ªabout this ship, about my father¡¯s work, about myself. With that thought lingering, the uncertainty clinging to me like a shadow, I stood up and set the empty glass down. As I rose, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me. I felt a warmth in my cheeks, a faint buzz that left me slightly unsteady on my feet. Drunk? I thought with surprise. It was a rare feeling¡ªalcohol usually barely affected me. But then, I realized¡ªit wasn''t just the drink. It was the hunger gnawing at my insides, a deep emptiness left over from healing. My body had drained whatever reserves it could find, and now it demanded more. I placed a hand against my stomach as it gave a low, insistent growl, reminding me of its needs. Food. I needed to eat¡ªneeded to replenish what I had lost. Even if the buzz from the alcohol was unfamiliar, I knew the hunger all too well. I walked out of the mess hall, slightly wobbly, determined¡ªor maybe just desperate¡ªto find something to eat, even if I didn¡¯t have all the answers yet. Chapter 7 : The Door That Whispers "No! Stay away!" The words tear from my throat, yanking me out of sleep. My quarters are dark, cold, suffocating. I sit up, trying to breathe through the panic. Yellow eyes flash in my mind¡ªcold, unblinking, always watching. They¡¯re there in the corners, in the vents, lurking just out of reach. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to focus. It was just a nightmare. Just another nightmare. My heart pounds in my chest, the echo of those eyes still lingering. Slowly, I drag myself out of bed, my legs feeling heavy and stiff. My reflection catches my eye as I pass the small mirror mounted on the wall. White hair, a tangled mess, sticks up in all directions. My mismatched eyes stare back at me¡ªone a vivid red, the other blue¡ªand the bags under them tell me everything about last night. God, I look like shit. I push my hair back, my fingers trembling slightly, and I force myself to look away. I grab my datapad from the small table next to my bed, the screen glowing softly in the darkness. The faint light does little to chase away the remnants of the nightmare¡ªyellow eyes flashing in the corners of my mind, watching, waiting. My pulse is still uneven, and my hands tremble slightly as I tap the screen. Vega¡¯s message is there, waiting for me¡ªmy new schedule, the places I¡¯m supposed to be, the people I¡¯m supposed to report to. I shove some food into my mouth, barely tasting it, my eyes skimming over the assignments. The words blur together, swimming in a haze of exhaustion. Get it together Sol. It''s just another day. Another day to prove I¡¯m not useless here. My stomach twists at the thought, but I shove it down, just like the food. No time for panic. No time for weakness. Even as I stand and start pulling on my pressure suit, the edges of the dream cling to me, sharpening the shadows in the room. I force myself to breathe. Just another day. But the hollow ache in my chest says otherwise. I swallow, trying to push down the anxiety, but it sticks in my throat, lingering like a weight I can¡¯t quite get rid of. The corridors of the Jericho are cold and metallic, a constant reminder of how isolated we are, but as I step into the maintenance bay, the familiar hum of machinery wraps around me, bringing a strange kind of comfort. The metallic clang of tools echoes off the walls, grounding me, and for a moment, the anxiety loosens its grip. Reid¡¯s already there, crouched over a control panel. His sunglasses rest on the bridge of his nose, and he¡¯s wearing a different Hawaiian shirt today¡ªbright red and yellow flowers scattered over the black pressure suit beneath. When he hears my footsteps, his head snaps up, and he grins, the kind of grin that makes it impossible not to feel a bit lighter. ¡°Well, if it isn''t our resident princess,¡± he says, voice full of teasing. "Sleep well, Your Highness?¡± ¡°Not quite,¡± I reply, rolling my eyes. But I feel a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. ¡°Hey, well, you look good anyway. Even if you do wear that ratty T-shirt over a perfectly good pressure suit,¡± Reid says, giving a light nod toward my outfit. I glance down at myself, at the old, loose T-shirt I still wear over the tight pressure suit, and shrug. It¡¯s not much, but it makes me feel a bit more covered. Even though I know I probably look a mess¡ªhair tangled, mismatched eyes with dark bags underneath¡ªat least Reid isn¡¯t treating me any different. He tosses me a wrench without warning, and I fumble to catch it, my fingers barely wrapping around it before it hits the ground. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. ¡°Not bad, Voss. Now, let''s see if you can keep that up and actually help me fix this intake valve. We screw this up, and everyone¡¯s breathing recycled fumes.¡± I kneel beside him, my fingers working at the bolts, the routine of it bringing a small sense of focus. Reid watches for a second before he starts talking again, his voice light. ¡°You know, all jokes aside, it¡¯s nice having someone else around. Even if it means I¡¯ve got competition in the style department,¡± he says, pointing to his floral-patterned shirt. ¡°Sure, Reid,¡± I say dryly, but there¡¯s a warmth in my chest that I can¡¯t quite ignore. Reid isn¡¯t careful with his words. He doesn¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m fragile. He just... treats me like I¡¯m here, part of the crew. Just like everyone else. It¡¯s a nice change. We keep working, Reid giving pointers here and there, and when I mess up, he just points it out, grinning, and tells me to try again. And I do. Over and over until I get it right. It¡¯s a small thing, but it makes today a little better. A couple of hours pass in the maintenance bay, my fingers growing sore from wrenching stubborn bolts and recalibrating intake valves. I pause for a moment, wiping sweat from my brow, and glance at Reid as he leans into a panel, his movements swift and practiced. ¡°Why are we even doing this?¡± I ask, gesturing to the bolts I¡¯m wrestling with. ¡°Jericho¡¯s self-healing. Shouldn¡¯t the nanos or drones be handling this?¡± Reid straightens up, a grin spreading across his face as he turns to me. ¡°Sure, princess, we could let Jericho handle everything,¡± he says, his voice light but teasing. ¡°But I¡¯d rather do it myself. You trust those nanos? I sure as hell don¡¯t.¡± I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯d rather get your hands dirty than trust the ship that¡¯s kept us alive all this time?¡± He laughs, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s not about trust. It¡¯s about control. Jericho might be self-healing, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s perfect. Systems like this?¡± He knocks on the side of the panel. ¡°Sometimes, they need a human touch. Besides, you think a drone¡¯s gonna have my sense of style?¡± He tugs at the collar of his Hawaiian shirt, his grin widening. I roll my eyes, but his words hang in the air, a reminder of how unpredictable this ship can be. For a moment, the routine work feels a little less mundane. I nick my hand at some point, a cut that stings sharp and sudden. Reid catches sight of the blood, his brow creasing with worry. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re due at med bay with Yates next, right?¡± he says, pointing at my hand with a frown. ¡°Might as well head there a bit early.¡± I glance down at the blood, already drying on my knuckles. I force a smile. ¡°I¡¯m fine, really,¡± I say, but Reid shakes his head, his concern evident. ¡°Better safe than sorry, princess. Go on, I¡¯ll wrap things up here.¡± I don¡¯t argue. I wipe my hand on my shirt, hiding the evidence of the wound now almost entirely healed, and head to medical. My fingers tremble slightly, the sight of the near-closed cut making my stomach churn. Reid¡¯s worry only made it worse¡ªlike he could see through me, see what wasn¡¯t normal. I had to get out of there before he asked more questions. The med bay is quiet, the lights low, and the air smells sterile. Yates glances up when I enter, her eyes widening a bit at my early arrival. ¡°Sol? You¡¯re early,¡± she says, her voice carrying that usual gentleness. ¡°Everything alright?¡± I nod, trying to keep my expression neutral. ¡°Reid finished up early, figured I¡¯d come by.¡± I can see her eyes flickering over me, noting the bags under my eyes, my unkempt hair, my generally worn-down appearance. ¡°Did you sleep okay last night?¡± she asks, her voice soft, full of concern. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± I lie. I don¡¯t want her prying, don¡¯t want her questions. Not when I can barely make sense of my own nightmares, of the whispers that follow me, of the yellow eyes I can¡¯t shake. Yates motions for me to sit down, and she moves about, gathering supplies while she explains what we¡¯ll be doing today. She goes over basic first aid procedures¡ªbandaging, disinfecting wounds, the kind of stuff everyone needs to know in case of emergencies. As she works, I nod along, listening, but my mind is elsewhere, replaying Reid¡¯s worried glance. I don¡¯t need anyone worrying about me. Especially not when I can¡¯t explain what¡¯s really going on. Yates finishes wrapping a bandage around a fake wound she¡¯s made on my arm, securing it in place. Her gaze is kind, but I can see the hints of concern behind it. ¡°You¡¯re doing well, Sol,¡± she says, her voice warm, almost motherly. ¡°Just remember, if anything feels off¡ªif you¡¯re not feeling well, you can always come to me, alright?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I say, forcing a smile. I know she means well, but the last thing I need is more eyes on me. More questions. I slide off the exam table, nodding as Yates reminds me to take care of myself. I wave a quick goodbye, stepping out of the med bay. The door slides shut behind me with a soft hiss, and I exhale, letting out the tension I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. Yates had been her usual kind self¡ªa little too kind, if I was honest. Her concern lingered, even after I waved goodbye. She meant well, but her watchful eyes made me feel more exposed than I was comfortable with. It wasn¡¯t her fault, though. She just cared too much, but hell that was her job after all. At least she isn¡¯t like Garin or Jimmy.
The thought lingers as I make my way down the hallway, the metallic walls reflecting the dim, sterile glow of the overhead lights. The hum of the Jericho buzzes faintly in the background, steady and rhythmic. It anchors me, but not enough to shake the weight of the past two nights since I woke up. Last night had been different¡ªworse. The nightmare had gripped me so tightly it still felt like I hadn¡¯t woken up. The night before, I¡¯d managed to sleep, maybe thanks to Reid¡¯s visit or the beer he shared. I wasn¡¯t sure which had helped, but whatever relief I¡¯d found then had disappeared. The yellow eyes creep back into my thoughts, the ones from last night. Every time I blink, I can almost see them¡ªwatching, waiting, always lurking just beyond the edges of my vision. I shake my head, trying to banish the image, but their cold, unblinking stare refuses to fade. I let out a breath and focus on my steps, the sound of my boots against the steel floor echoing softly. I try to redirect my thoughts to the crew¡ªReid¡¯s jokes, Yates¡¯ kindness. Even Holt, in his quiet, unrelenting way, is easier to think about than Garin or Jimmy. At least they don¡¯t make me feel like some kind of freak, even if I can sense their unspoken questions. The hallway stretches out ahead, dim and seemingly endless. My mind drifts, the hum of the ship filling the silence. And then something flickers at the edge of my senses. A voice. Faint. Just a murmur. ¡°Claim my legacy. Humanity was born to inherit the stars, open the door.¡± I freeze mid-step, my breath catching in my throat. The words echo in my mind, clear and distinct, like someone had whispered them directly into my ear. My heart thuds loudly in the silence, my pulse quickening as I whip my head around, scanning the hallway. Nothing. No one. Just the empty corridor stretching behind me, its cold, metallic walls reflecting the faint glow of the lights. I stand there for a moment, trying to make sense of it. My father¡¯s voice. I¡¯ve heard it before, in my dreams, in the memories that surface when I least expect them. But this wasn¡¯t like that. This felt sharper, louder. Real. I shake my head and force my feet to move again, my steps heavier now, the weight of that moment pressing down on me. It¡¯s just my mind playing tricks, I tell myself, over and over. Cryo messing with my head. The stress of the last few days catching up with me. That¡¯s all¡ªor whatever the hell Dad did to me. But even as I walk, the faint echo of his words clings to me, sinking deep into the edges of my thoughts. I reached the training room a few minutes later, the strange whisper still nagging at the edges of my thoughts. Holt was already there, standing in the middle of the room like he¡¯d been waiting for hours. He was tall and broad, clean cut, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. He didn¡¯t acknowledge me when I walked in, his focus entirely on the pair of sparring gloves he was adjusting. The room itself was bare, cold, and unwelcoming. Dim lights cast long shadows along the walls, and the only sound was the faint hum of the ship, muffled but ever-present. Holt finally looked up when I hesitated near the doorway, his sharp eyes fixing on me. ¡°Put these on,¡± he said, his voice low and clipped. Before I could say anything, he tossed the gloves in my direction. I fumbled to catch them, managing to snag one while the other hit the floor with a dull thud. I knelt to pick it up, slipping both gloves on awkwardly as Holt watched in silence. The material was stiff and uncomfortable, but I didn¡¯t dare complain. Holt gave a curt nod, then stepped into position. His stance was solid and deliberate, like he¡¯d done this a thousand times. ¡°Wait, what are we¡ª¡± I started, but the words barely left my mouth before his fist shot out. It connected with my face, the force sending me stumbling backward. Pain exploded across my eye, sharp and hot, and I clutched at it instinctively. ¡°What the hell?!¡± I gasped, blinking rapidly as my vision blurred.
Holt didn¡¯t respond. He stood there, arms crossed, watching me with that same calm, detached expression he¡¯d had since I walked in. His silence was unnerving, like he was calculating something I couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°No better way to gauge your skill,¡± he said finally, his tone clipped, every word deliberate. ¡°Action teaches best.¡± I straightened slowly, still holding my throbbing eye. ¡°A little warning would¡¯ve been nice,¡± I muttered under my breath, but Holt didn¡¯t even blink. ¡°Enough words.¡± He motioned for me to get into position, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly. I hesitated for half a second before raising my hands, more out of instinct than any real confidence. My muscles were taut, braced for what was coming, but I wasn¡¯t ready. Not even close. Holt moved like a predator. His strikes came fast and unrelenting, each one hitting harder than the last. This wasn¡¯t like sparring with the royal guard back on Earth. They¡¯d been twice Holt¡¯s size, but they were deliberate, almost gentle in their movements. They¡¯d taught me to stand and endure, but this... this was something else entirely. Holt wasn¡¯t holding back. Every punch, every jab, every calculated movement had weight behind it. A sharp crack to my jaw left my lip split, blood dripping down my chin. A hook to my ribs knocked the wind out of me, sending me stumbling, gasping for air. I raised my arms to block, but his punches tore right through my defenses, sending pain radiating through my arms. I tried to dodge, to move, to fight back, but it didn¡¯t matter. Holt was always a step ahead. A kick swept my legs out from under me, slamming me to the mat. Before I could even catch my breath, he was on me again, dragging me back to my feet like it was nothing. The hits kept coming, each one more brutal than the last. My eye swelled shut, the other barely able to keep track of his movements. My entire body ached¡ªsharp, burning pain in my ribs, my jaw, my arms. I wasn¡¯t fighting anymore. I was surviving, barely staying upright under the onslaught. When he finally stopped, I was hunched over, breathless and shaking. The room spun around me, and all I could do was hold my ribs and try not to collapse. Holt stood there, calm and composed, as if the beating he¡¯d just delivered was nothing more than a standard exercise. No malice. No satisfaction. Just cold, calculated intent. ¡°Your basics are solid¡ªon par with an intermediate fighter,¡± he said evenly, his voice flat, like he was reading off a checklist. ¡°Tough for your size. Study this, and in a few years, you might even be advanced.¡± He reached into his pocket and tossed a datapad onto the mat in front of me, the sharp click echoing in the quiet room. ¡°Reid and Garin are already there. Something to think about.¡± The words stung, cutting deeper than his punches had. He didn¡¯t even need to raise his voice. That subtle challenge, delivered so casually, hit like a gut punch. Without another word, he turned and started to walk away, his footsteps steady and deliberate. Then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. His sharp eyes fixed on me, his expression as cold as ever¡ªuntil something flickered. A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. His gaze lingered just long enough to make my skin crawl before he turned and disappeared into the hallway. I stayed on the mat, breathing hard, my blood still pounding in my ears. My split lip had already sealed shut, and the bruises that had been forming across my arms were fading before my eyes. My ribs still ached, but I could feel it dulling, the sharp edge of the pain already softening. ¡°What the actual fuck?¡± I hissed, the words raw in my throat as I wiped the last trace of blood off my chin. Holt wasn¡¯t cruel, but there was something colder about him, something detached. This wasn¡¯t training¡ªit was a goddamn execution dressed up as a lesson. And yet¡­ every punch, every strike had purpose. Nothing wasted. Nothing random. It wasn¡¯t about hurting me. It was about teaching me. ¡°What an asshole,¡± I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to my feet. Every muscle protested, my legs trembling as I swayed for a moment before catching my balance. Hunger clawed at my stomach like a feral thing, my body screaming for fuel. I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the gnawing ache, but it was already settling into my bones, demanding to be fed. I limped toward the door, my ribs still sore, my vision blurred from the swelling around my left eye. But even as I moved, I felt it fading, my body knitting itself back together with unsettling speed. By the time I reached the doorway, the limp was gone. The sharp edge of pain in my side had dulled to nothing, and I could see clearly again. Only the faintest shadow of a bruise remained, a ghost of what should have been agony for days. I glanced back into the empty training room, half-expecting Holt to be there, watching. But he was gone, the echo of his footsteps long since swallowed by the silence. My fingers tightened around the datapad, the edges pressing into my palm, grounding me in the moment. I didn¡¯t head for my quarters. Not yet. The hunger twisting in my gut was unbearable, an insistent reminder of what my body had just burned through. It was late, but I knew the mess hall would still have rations left. With any luck, it¡¯d be empty. The last thing I needed was more eyes on me tonight. Stepping into the hallway, I exhaled, the tension in my chest loosening just enough for me to keep moving. Tomorrow would be different. It had to be.
The days that followed bled together, a blur of exhaustion and routine. Training with Holt left me bruised and battered¡ªat least for a few hours until my body forced itself to heal. The nightmares kept me up most nights, the yellow eyes haunting me every time I closed my own. Even when I managed a few restless hours, I woke drenched in sweat, the echo of those cold, unblinking eyes burned into my mind. I started eating more than double my usual rations, a necessity just to keep my strength up. My body¡¯s constant need to repair itself left me starving, the gnawing hunger settling into a dull ache that never fully went away. I tried to hide it from the others, but Yates noticed. She always noticed. ¡°You¡¯re running on empty,¡± Yates said one morning, handing me a protein bar as I slumped into the med bay chair. Her voice was calm, but the sharpness in her gaze told me she wasn¡¯t just making small talk. ¡°You¡¯ve been burning through rations faster than the rest of us combined.¡± I forced a shrug, unwrapping the protein bar with stiff fingers. ¡°Holt¡¯s training is... intense,¡± I said, trying to keep my tone light. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she folded her arms, studying me with a doctor¡¯s precision. ¡°This is more than training, Sol. You¡¯re losing weight, and it¡¯s noticeable. I¡¯ve seen you adjusting your suit.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. I glanced down at my pressure suit, my hands automatically tugging at the straps I¡¯d tightened earlier that morning. She wasn¡¯t wrong. The suit, once snug and form-fitting, now sagged slightly in places, especially around my waist and chest. Even the chest harness felt lighter and looser, no longer pressing as firmly as it used to. It was subtle, but I couldn¡¯t ignore the way my body seemed to be shrinking, shifting in ways I hadn¡¯t fully registered until now. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said quickly, sharper than I intended. ¡°Holt¡¯s just pushing me hard, that¡¯s all.¡± Yates¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver, her concern unwavering. ¡°It¡¯s not normal,¡± she said gently, her tone more careful now. ¡°I¡¯d like to run some tests. Just to make sure everything¡¯s okay.¡± The suggestion hit me like a jolt of electricity, panic sparking in my chest. I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not necessary,¡± I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡°I can handle it.¡± Her frown deepened. ¡°Sol¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The words came out harsher than I meant, and I immediately regretted it. I softened my tone, forcing a tired smile. ¡°Really. I¡¯ve got this.¡± She studied me for another long moment, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she sighed and handed me another protein bar. ¡°Just... take care of yourself, alright? If anything feels off, you need to come to me.¡± I nodded, stuffing the second protein bar into my pocket. ¡°Sure, Yates.¡± But as I left the med bay, her words lingered. The concern in her voice wasn¡¯t something I could easily shake, and I knew she wasn¡¯t wrong. My body was changing faster than I could explain, and even Yates¡ªkind, patient Yates¡ªwas starting to notice how far from normal I really was. The whispers hadn¡¯t stopped. They weren¡¯t constant, but they came when I was alone, slipping into the silence like a thread unraveling in the back of my mind. My father¡¯s voice, faint but distinct: ¡°Claim my legacy. Humanity was born to inherit the stars.¡± At first, I tried to ignore them, to write them off as nothing more than memories resurfacing in my stressed-out mind. But they were too clear, too sharp to be mere echoes of the past. Once, when I was walking back to my quarters late at night, I thought I saw something¡ªthose eyes, glowing faintly in the darkness at the end of the hallway. I froze, my breath catching in my throat, every muscle locking up as fear gripped me. But when I blinked, the eyes were gone, leaving only the empty corridor and the low hum of the ship. ¡°You¡¯re just tired,¡± I muttered to myself, trying to shake the image. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Just your imagination.¡± But the fear lingered, crawling under my skin and refusing to let go. Holt¡¯s training sessions didn¡¯t help. They were brutal¡ªeach one more grueling than the last. He didn¡¯t hold back, and every time I thought I couldn¡¯t take another hit, he¡¯d push me harder, testing the limits of what I could endure, forcing me to find strength where I thought I had none. By the end of each session, I was drenched in sweat, my muscles screaming in protest, my body battered and bruised. But the recovery didn¡¯t last days¡ªit barely lasted hours. Even when Holt delivered a beating that should have left me bedridden, I could feel myself healing as the evening went on. The bruises faded, the stiffness in my joints eased, and the sharp aches dulled. If Holt didn¡¯t completely destroy me during a session, by the time I hit my bunk, I was almost as good as new. But the healing wasn¡¯t without limits. The hunger was relentless, my body demanding fuel for the constant repairs it was forcing upon itself. I¡¯d begun to notice a troubling pattern¡ªwhen I didn¡¯t eat enough, the process slowed. My bruises lingered, the aches stuck around longer, and the fatigue seeped deeper into my bones. It was like my body was rationing its resources, prioritizing what it could heal with the energy it had. The weight loss wasn¡¯t just noticeable; it was horrifying. I caught my reflection in the mirror last night, and the person staring back didn¡¯t look like me. My frame was skeletal, my skin pulled tight over bones that jutted out where they shouldn¡¯t. I was never heavy¡ªif anything, I¡¯d always been a little too well-endowed in places I would¡¯ve happily traded for practicality. But now, even those curves were gone. My chest was flatter, my hips narrower, and my waist¡­ God, my waist. It wasn¡¯t an hourglass anymore¡ªit was a hollow. This isn¡¯t possible. The thought clawed its way through my mind, leaving a trail of cold dread. A body doesn¡¯t just eat itself like this in a matter of days. It felt like some cruel trick, like I¡¯d stepped into a nightmare where the mirror showed me something I couldn¡¯t stop, no matter how hard I tried. I tightened my suit straps again this morning, desperate to stop it from sagging. The chest harness that used to feel snug was loose now, sliding awkwardly against my ribs. My hands trembled as I adjusted it, the fabric pressing into the ridges of my collarbone. You¡¯re fine, it¡¯s just stress. Holt¡¯s training is intense. You¡¯ll bounce back. The words rang hollow, a desperate chant against the truth. My body wasn¡¯t bouncing back¡ªit was breaking down. I could feel it in the aching emptiness of my stomach, the way my limbs felt too light but too weak at the same time. You¡¯re disappearing, a small voice whispered at the edge of my mind. Piece by piece. I could only guess what was happening¡ªmy body consuming itself, sacrificing fat and excess to keep me alive and functional. It left me uneasy, the questions mounting with every session and every meal that still didn¡¯t feel like enough. For all my supposed resilience, it was clear: survival came with a price. Holt noticed. His sharp gaze missed nothing. He didn¡¯t comment outright, but there were moments after a particularly rough session where I could feel his eyes on me, watching as my bruises faded too quickly, as my movements steadied when they should still have been clumsy with pain. Once, as he handed me a towel, I caught a flicker of something in his expression¡ªnot surprise exactly, but a quiet recognition, almost like curiosity. It disappeared before I could say anything, leaving me wondering just how much he knew¡ªor suspected. ¡°You¡¯re like a punching bag that resets every day,¡± he said one morning, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. ¡°No bruises, no swelling. Just... new. Though, you¡¯re looking a little skinnier each time.¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. My stomach twisted, the truth hovering at the edge of my tongue, but I swallowed it down. Holt didn¡¯t press me for answers, didn¡¯t ask any questions. He just handed me a towel, but this time, he lingered for a moment longer than usual. His sharp eyes flicked over me, noting the way my pressure suit hung slightly looser, how the once tight fit had turned into something awkward and ill-fitting. Without a word, he walked over to one of the lockers, pulled out a box, and handed it to me. ¡°You need to eat,¡± he said simply, his tone blunt but not unkind. ¡°You¡¯re no use to anyone if you waste away.¡± I blinked at the box, heavy with ration bars and protein packs, and then back up at him, unsure of what to say. Before I could form a response, he added, ¡°Can¡¯t afford to lose my favorite punching bag. You¡¯re the only one who doesn¡¯t stay broken¡ªsaves me the paperwork.¡± It was the first time I¡¯d heard Holt make anything resembling a joke, and it hit me like one of his punches¡ªunexpected and oddly sharp. I wondered, not for the first time, what he really knew. Holt wasn¡¯t just the ship¡¯s security; I¡¯d learned from Reid that he was the one who helped seal Lab 3 under Warren¡¯s orders. The thought gnawed at me as I walked back to my quarters, the cryptic comment lingering in the air like a challenge I couldn¡¯t quite ignore. How much does he know about Project Phoenix? My mind drifted back to the note and photo I¡¯d found. Could it have been him? The idea twisted in my head, a nagging thread of uncertainty. He¡¯s careful, methodical... it would make sense. A few days later, as I leaned against the wall outside the training room, still catching my breath from Holt¡¯s latest session, I touched my mouth gingerly, nursing a tooth Holt had knocked out during a brutal hit. The gap it left behind hadn¡¯t lasted long¡ªless than a day¡ªand already a new one was growing in. But this new tooth felt¡­ wrong. It was sharp, far too sharp. Earlier, when I¡¯d run my tongue over it to check, I¡¯d cut myself, the sting and taste of blood making my stomach churn. Now, even the slightest brush of my tongue against its edge sent a chill down my spine. The tooth wasn¡¯t just new¡ªit was different, alien. As I stared down the hallway, lost in the unease creeping over me, Reid walked up, holding out a bottle of water. ¡°You¡¯re keeping him on his toes,¡± he said, his voice carrying the usual teasing note, but his eyes scanned my face, lingering on the bruises and swelling. ¡°But, Sol, you¡¯re burning through yourself fast. Maybe you should talk to Yates about the weight thing. Rapid changes like that¡­ it¡¯s not exactly normal.¡± I looked down, fiddling with the straps of my suit. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m working on it,¡± I said, not meeting his eyes. Reid gave me a small, crooked grin, trying to keep it light. ¡°Just saying, if you keep shrinking, I¡¯m gonna have to recalibrate your suit. Don¡¯t make me do extra work.¡±
I snorted softly, but his words stuck with me longer than I wanted to admit. Holt might have been joking, but the concern behind his tone was real. And he wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªmy body was changing faster than I could keep up with, the questions piling up just as quickly as my appetite. I resolved to tear into the box Holt had given me and triple my intake. I was hungry enough to eat it all in one sitting if I could. But no matter how many protein bars I forced down, it never seemed to be enough. The hunger gnawed at me, deep and relentless, twisting into something unfamiliar¡ªsomething primal. The processed bars tasted like cardboard, their artificial flavor only fueling the frustration. My mind wandered to the thought of something fresh, something real¡ªmeat. The idea clung to me, vivid and unsettling, as if my body was screaming for more than just sustenance. It wanted something raw, something alive. The protein bars, dry and tasteless, only fueled the craving further, leaving me restless and unsatisfied. My teeth ached with the thought, and I caught myself biting the inside of my cheek, tasting the faint tang of blood on my tongue. It wasn¡¯t enough. I shook the thought off, but the craving lingered, sharper and more insistent than the hunger itself. The whispers stayed with me too, creeping into the edges of my thoughts when I was alone. They were quiet, just faint enough to make me doubt whether I¡¯d actually heard them, but they never fully went away. Lately, they¡¯d started saying different things¡ªfragmented phrases that made no sense but left a chill crawling down my spine. Something alive. Something fresh. Claim it. The words echoed with a strange rhythm, like they were coming from somewhere deep inside me. They felt as real as the hunger, as undeniable and intrusive, weaving into my thoughts like they belonged there. I couldn¡¯t shake the thought: Is it the weight loss? The lack of food? Am I losing it? The gnawing hunger, the constant strain¡ªmaybe my mind was finally starting to crack under the pressure. But even as I tried to dismiss the whispers as nothing more than my own exhaustion, there was something unsettlingly real about them, like they weren¡¯t just echoes in my head but a presence reaching out from somewhere else. That idea, horrifying as it was, felt more plausible the longer I spent trying to silence them. Then, as if my own thoughts were betraying me, a stray image flashed across my mind¡ªraw meat, bright and glistening with blood, the kind you¡¯d find behind the counter at an old butcher shop. My stomach twisted, not with disgust but with longing, the craving so sharp it made me flinch. What the fuck? I thought, a chill spreading through me. I like rare steak. That¡¯s it. I¡¯m not some animal. But even as I tried to shake it off, the thought lingered, insistent and primal, gnawing at the edge of my sanity. The craving didn¡¯t fade¡ªit grew, pushing past my rationality, demanding more than I was willing to admit. A few days passed, blurring into a haze of reflection and gnawing unease. I caught my reflection in the mirror again¡ªwild white hair, mismatched eyes, one faintly glowing red. Once, those changes had consumed me, but now they felt trivial compared to what was happening beneath the surface. My teeth were the most striking change¡ªfour sharp, inhuman replacements for my canines. I winced as my tongue brushed one, the sting of blood followed by the unsettlingly fast healing of the cut. Holt¡¯s training didn¡¯t help. His hits, too deliberate to be accidents, knocked out more teeth, each replaced with something sharper, more alien. He never commented, but his sharp gaze lingered, like he was testing me. My own mouth had become a weapon, one I had to handle carefully, each slip of control leaving my cheeks and tongue nicked and bleeding. This isn¡¯t normal, I thought, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white. But what was normal anymore? My reflection¡ªwhite hair, red eye, razor-sharp teeth¡ªstared back like a marker of something unfinished. The cravings were the worst. They gnawed at me constantly, a primal hunger that no amount of rations could satisfy. The memory of blood lingered, sharper and more vivid than any meal. Yet, as I forced down the bland protein bars and dry rations, the cravings dulled, smoldering rather than burning. My weight crept back, my strength steadied, but the unease never left. The hunger, like the whispers in my mind, waited for a moment of weakness. The days dragged on, the monotony broken only by training, work, and the growing pull of Lab 3. Every time I passed that section of the ship, the whispers grew louder, sharper, like my father¡¯s voice reaching through the walls. Claim my legacy. Unlock the truth. The crew thought they were keeping me safe, but I knew better. They were keeping me out. The door was a barrier not just to the past, but to the answers I needed¡ªand maybe to what I was becoming. Then, one morning, Reid and I were assigned to recalibrate a system in the lower decks. The task felt routine, but the weight in my chest told me otherwise. This wasn¡¯t coincidence. The whispers wouldn¡¯t allow that. Lab 3 was waiting. The task felt routine, but as soon as we descended into the bowels of the Jericho, the air shifted. It was colder down there, heavier, like the ship itself was holding its breath. The whispers, which had mercifully faded over the last few days, started again, faint at first, like static at the edge of my thoughts. I tried to ignore them, tried to focus on the work, but with every step closer to Lab 3, they grew sharper, louder, insistent. By the time we reached the maintenance panel, they were no longer whispers. They were a roar, an overwhelming tide of fragmented phrases crashing through my mind, pulling me under. My fingers shook as I held a tool, struggling to concentrate while Reid muttered something about wiring. Then, the voice came, cutting through everything like a blade of ice: "Project Phoenix is the final evolution, open the door." The words weren¡¯t muffled or distant this time. They were clear and undeniable, freezing me in place. My hands hovered over the controls, trembling, as a chill spread through my body. It wasn¡¯t a memory. It wasn¡¯t a dream. It was alive, immediate, and impossible to escape. No matter how much weight I regained, no matter how much the cravings faded, I couldn¡¯t quiet this. And I knew, deep down, that there was no escaping it¡ªnot until I found the answers. And maybe not even then. ¡°You good?¡± Reid asked, his voice snapping me back. I forced a nod, my throat dry. ¡°Yeah. Just tired.¡± But it wasn¡¯t tiredness. It was the weight of the whispers, the pull of Lab 3, a door I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about. Every time I passed this section of the ship, they seemed to get louder, like my father¡¯s voice was reaching for me through the walls, unraveling the threads of my resolve. The crew might have thought they were protecting me, redirecting me, keeping me away from the labs¡ªbut I was starting to see the truth. It wasn¡¯t about keeping me safe. It was about keeping me out. ¡°We just need to check a few calibrations,¡± Reid said, glancing at his datapad. ¡°Won¡¯t take long.¡± I barely heard him. My attention was on the sterile coldness of the air, the way it felt heavier the closer we got to Lab 3. The lab wasn¡¯t visible yet, but I could feel its presence like a weight pressing against my chest. The whispers were no longer faint. They were roaring now, flooding my mind with fragmented phrases. Unlock the door and you unlock the truth. Find it. Claim your legacy. Evolve. I gripped the tool tighter, willing myself to focus on the task, but my hands shook as the words hammered into me. Every second we spent here felt like the ship itself was pushing me closer to that sealed door. The thought of what might be behind it¡ªwhat truths, what horrors¡ªtwisted in my gut, but it didn¡¯t stop the pull. Reid worked quietly beside me, unaware of the storm in my mind. I forced myself to breathe, to move, to mimic the calm focus he showed, but my pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything but the whispers. I glanced down the corridor where Lab 3 lay, its sealed door hidden just around the bend. The pull was undeniable now, almost physical, like a tether wrapped around my chest. It wasn¡¯t coincidence that brought me here today. It couldn¡¯t be. The whispers wouldn¡¯t allow that. The ship wouldn¡¯t allow that. And as the voice echoed again in my mind¡ªsharp, commanding, undeniable¡ªI knew one thing for certain: Lab 3 was waiting for me. ¡°We just need to check a few calibrations,¡± Reid said, his tone casual as he tapped something on his datapad. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t take long.¡± I followed him down the narrow hallway, the glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows that flickered with each step. At the end of the hall stood Lab 3, its thick steel doors shut tight. Just looking at it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. As we approached, the sound of voices carried down the hall¡ªsharp, low murmurs that I recognized immediately. Garin. He was standing with Jimmy near the entrance to one of the other labs. When they saw us, Garin¡¯s sharp gaze immediately fixed on me, his eyes narrowing in a way that made my stomach tighten. My stomach growled, sharp and insistent. I bit my tongue, wincing at the metallic tang of blood. For a split second, the thought of sinking my teeth into him¡ªinto flesh¡ªflashed through my mind. I clenched my fists, shaking it off, but the anger twisted into something darker, something primal. What the hell is happening to me? Reid, however, didn¡¯t flinch. He met Garin¡¯s stare head-on, his expression calm but firm. Whatever silent challenge passed between them ended when Garin finally looked away, muttering something to Jimmy under his breath. The two of them laughed quietly, their voices dripping with a disdain that made my cheeks burn. Ashly was with them, standing slightly behind Garin, her hands clutching a tablet close to her chest. When Garin turned to leave, muttering something about wasted time, Ashly hesitated for a moment before giving me a small wave. Her movements were quick, furtive, like she didn¡¯t want Garin to notice. A faint bruise still lingered on her temple, partially hidden by a bandage, but she seemed otherwise okay¡ªif not a little nervous. ¡°Come on,¡± Reid said, his voice pulling my attention away from them. He gave Garin and Jimmy one last pointed look before turning back to the task at hand. I followed Reid, glancing back over my shoulder as Garin and Jimmy disappeared into another lab. Ashly lingered for a moment longer before hurrying after them, her head low. When we finally stopped near the base of Lab 3, Reid knelt to check one of the systems, muttering under his breath as he tapped at the exposed panel. ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet,¡± he said without looking up. I hesitated, my gaze drifting toward the massive doors of Lab 3, looming like a weight I couldn¡¯t shake. ¡°I need to know what¡¯s in there.¡± Reid didn¡¯t answer immediately. He finished tightening a connection, then stood, brushing his hands off on his pants. His usual easy grin wasn¡¯t there this time; instead, his expression was cautious, careful. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know everything,¡± he said finally, his voice low. ¡°But I know enough to say you¡¯re better off staying away from it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± My voice came out sharper than I intended, the frustration spilling over. ¡°What¡¯s so bad in there that it has to stay sealed?¡± Reid rubbed the back of his neck, glancing briefly at the door before meeting my gaze. ¡°I wasn¡¯t part of whatever happened in there, alright? That was Warren¡¯s call, and I trust him. If he says it needs to stay shut, then I believe him.¡± He hesitated, his tone softening just slightly. ¡°From what I¡¯ve picked up, it was... bad. Your father¡¯s work didn¡¯t stop when he was gone. They kept going, and it went too far. That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡± His words hung in the air, heavy and incomplete. ¡°What does ¡®too far¡¯ mean?¡± I asked, stepping closer. Reid shook his head, his jaw tightening. ¡°I¡¯m not a scientist, Sol. But from what I¡¯ve pieced together, it¡¯s human experimentation. The kind you don¡¯t come back from.¡± He glanced at the door again, a flicker of unease crossing his face. ¡°And whatever¡¯s in there... it doesn¡¯t belong out here with the rest of us.¡± I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. ¡°So you¡¯re just going to trust Warren? No questions, no doubts?¡± Reid¡¯s gaze hardened, his voice steady. ¡°Yeah. I trust him. You should, too.¡± He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened, but I know this¡ªif Warren says it stays shut, then it stays shut. He¡¯s kept us alive this long, hasn¡¯t he?¡± I clenched my fists, the pull of the door stronger than ever. ¡°You¡¯re not curious? Not even a little?¡± ¡°Curious? Sure,¡± Reid admitted, a faint edge of discomfort slipping into his voice. ¡°But not stupid. There¡¯s nothing in there worth opening that door for, Sol. Believe me.¡± He gave me a faint, tired smile, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. I could see the unease lingering behind it, the weight of things he wasn¡¯t saying. ¡°You should let it go,¡± he added, his tone softer now. ¡°Whatever¡¯s in there, it¡¯s not your problem to solve. Don¡¯t go looking for something you can¡¯t unsee.¡± I forced a weak smile, but his words did nothing to quiet the whispers clawing at the edges of my thoughts. ¡°Sure, Reid,¡± I said, my voice light enough to sound believable. ¡°I¡¯ll let it go.¡± But as he turned back to the panel, the knot in my stomach tightened. I wasn¡¯t going to let it go. I couldn¡¯t. The whispers wouldn¡¯t let me. Claim your birthright. Humanity was born to inherit the stars. Lab 3 holds the key. The words threaded through my mind, fragments of my father¡¯s voice too sharp and vivid to dismiss. It wasn¡¯t just the whispers anymore. Sometimes, when I passed this section of the ship, I swore I heard faint noises¡ªshuffling, scraping. Barely audible, but enough to chill me. Lab 3 loomed in my thoughts, its presence growing heavier with each passing day. Whatever was sealed behind that door wasn¡¯t silent¡ªit was waiting. As we left the lower decks, the tension in my chest lingered. My strength was returning, but the whispers gnawed at me, their urgency sharpening with every step away from Lab 3. Find it. Unlock the truth. Claim your legacy... Evolve. Flashes of memory blurred with the whispers¡ªmy father¡¯s lab, sterile lights, the sharp tang of antiseptic. His voice cut through the haze, commanding: ¡°Humanity must adapt, Sol. You must adapt.¡± The whispers didn¡¯t feel external anymore. They were becoming part of me, unraveling the threads of my resolve. I glanced back down the corridor where Lab 3 stood, sealed and impenetrable. Yet something felt different this time. Or maybe it was just me. How would I even get in? The locks were High-level clearance, impossible to bypass without someone letting me in. Directly asking for access wasn¡¯t an option¡ªGarin would seize the chance to drag me down further. But if anyone held the key, it was Knight. The idea gripped me. Knight. My father¡¯s most trusted ally. She knew more about him and his work than anyone else, likely more than Garin ever could. Her loyalty to him ran deep; it had to. But so did her bitterness. That much I¡¯d pieced together even before she went into cryo. Garin¡¯s promotion over her had cut her down, humiliated her. If I could use that bitterness, twist it just enough, maybe she¡¯d help me¡ªnot because she cared about me, but because she¡¯d see it as a way to strike at Garin. I didn¡¯t trust her, couldn¡¯t, but loyalty to my father¡¯s work and spite for Garin might be enough to get her on my side. Still, I couldn¡¯t rely on that gamble. Time wasn¡¯t on my side. I could feel the invisible clock ticking down, pushing me closer to the edge. They¡¯d send me back into cryo eventually, sealing me away while they continued their work, while the secrets behind Lab 3 stayed buried. If I went under again without answers, without seeing what was locked behind that door, I might never know the truth. The note surfaced in my mind once more, the words seared into my thoughts: I¡¯m so sorry for what we have done. Nature never meant for anything to live forever, let alone become¡­ this. Lab 3 must stay sealed. Live your life. The horrors in Lab 3 should be forgotten. Evolution is better left to nature and god. Abandon your father¡¯s legacy¡ªI beg you. I didn¡¯t know who left it or why. Were they trying to protect me? Manipulate me? Did they know what I¡¯d become, or were they simply terrified of the past? The questions churned, relentless, impossible to ignore. Live your life. The words clung to me, fragile yet weighted with impossible hope. What life? Did I even have one to live? For a moment, I let myself dream¡ªwhat would it be like if I¡¯d ever had a choice? If my father hadn¡¯t shaped every step, carved every path before I even learned to walk my own? When I was younger, I¡¯d tried to fight against him¡ªsneaking out, defying his expectations, imagining a future that didn¡¯t orbit his towering influence. But those acts of rebellion had been fleeting, snuffed out by his quiet, unshakable authority. He didn¡¯t need to yell or punish. His disappointment alone was enough to crush my resolve. Even now, long after his death, I couldn¡¯t escape him. His voice lingered in the whispers, his presence seeped into the ship, into the sealed door, into my blood and bones. His legacy clung to me, pulling me toward the fragments he¡¯d left behind. Could I ever be more than his creation, more than his experiment? The thought sliced through me, raw and unyielding. I tried to imagine a life that was mine¡ªa life untethered from his shadow. But it felt distant, hollow, like reaching for a star that would only burn me if I got too close. Every choice I made still echoed with his influence, every step taken still felt bound to the path he¡¯d set. And the truth that gnawed at me most? God damn it, Daddy... I miss you so much. How could you do this to me? I know you loved me, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that you¡¯re a monster. I just want to be free. Is that so much to ask? Just one life¡ªone moment¡ªthat¡¯s mine. Not yours, not your legacy, not your damn plan for humanity. Just mine. But even now, after everything, I can¡¯t let go. I still hear your voice. I still feel you here, in every step I take, in every mother fucking breath I draw. You¡¯ve been dead for decades, and I¡¯m still trapped in your shadow. And the worst part? I don¡¯t even know if I want out. And then there was Knight. Would she be the key to unlocking Lab 3, or just another lock keeping me out? I turned back toward the upper levels, my fists clenched, my jaw tight. The whispers lingered, their pull sharper than ever, tugging at the edges of my resolve. They didn¡¯t just call me toward the door¡ªthey called me toward the truth. Toward him. Lab 3 loomed in my mind, the answers buried behind its sealed door like a black hole, pulling everything into its gravity. I already knew I¡¯d go back. I already knew I couldn¡¯t leave it alone. The real question wasn¡¯t just what I¡¯d find when I did¡ªit was what I¡¯d become. Chapter 8 : The Monster Inside The wrench slipped from my grip, and I swore under my breath as it clattered against the steel floor. ¡°Piece of shit,¡± I muttered, glaring at the panel like it had personally insulted me. My arms were already sore, my shirt sticking to my pressure suit from the sweat I¡¯d worked up. ¡°Careful, Princess,¡± Reid called from where he leaned lazily against the ladder. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but I could hear the grin in his voice. ¡°If you keep glaring like that, it might just unscrew itself out of fear.¡± ¡°Thanks for the help, really,¡± I snapped, wiping sweat from my brow with my shoulder. ¡°Are you actually going to pitch in, or is moral support all I¡¯m getting?¡± ¡°Moral support¡¯s important,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re doing fine. Slow and steady wins the race, right?¡± I yanked harder on the wrench, my new teeth clenched. ¡°Slow and steady is useless when the nanos and drones are supposed to be doing this crap. What¡¯s the point of having a self-healing ship if it¡¯s going to slack off?¡± ¡°Now, now,¡± Reid said, stepping closer, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. ¡°Sometimes it needs the human touch. You know¡ªblood, sweat, and tears. Though in your case, we¡¯ve got all three covered, so I guess we¡¯re good.¡± I gave him a flat look. ¡°Funny. I¡¯m struggling over here, in case you didn¡¯t notice.¡± He crouched down next to me, inspecting the panel like he was actually considering helping. ¡°Oh, I noticed. Nothing new there. And hey, I get paid by the hour, so take your time.¡± ¡°Paid in beer,¡± I shot back. ¡°And damn fine beer, thank you very much,¡± he replied, tapping the side of the panel. ¡°Alright, show me what¡¯s got you so pissed off.¡± I shifted to show him the bolt. ¡°It¡¯s stuck. Like, stuck-stuck.¡± Reid let out a low whistle. ¡°Well, yeah, looks like it. You just need to give it a little more muscle. Come on, Princess, you¡¯ve got it.¡± ¡°If I¡¯m royalty, you must be the village idiot,¡± I muttered automatically, planting my feet and gripping the wrench with both hands. I shoved hard, and with a loud, reluctant screech, the bolt finally gave way. Unfortunately, so did my grip. My hand slipped, and my knuckles slammed into the edge of the panel. ¡°Fuck!¡± I hissed, clutching my hand as pain flared hot and sharp. ¡°See? Blood, sweat, and tears,¡± Reid said, smirking as he leaned back. ¡°Though I¡¯m still not seeing the tears. You¡¯re tougher than I gave you credit for.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± I muttered, watching as the cut on my knuckles closed itself within seconds, the pain fading as quickly as it came. But not fast enough to stop the familiar pang that followed¡ªa deep, gnawing hunger that twisted my stomach like a fist. Reid¡¯s eyebrow quirked as he watched me flex my fingers. ¡°You good?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said quickly, shoving the hunger down. ¡°Just caught it wrong.¡± Reid raised an eyebrow, his smirk firmly in place. ¡°If you say so, Doc.¡± His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of something behind his sunglasses¡ªlike he didn¡¯t quite believe me. Still, he let it slide, his grin shifting to something more mischievous. ¡°Though I gotta say, you¡¯re looking a lot healthier these days. That tight suit of yours wasn¡¯t filling out so nicely a few weeks ago. Almost like you¡¯ve been sneaking an extra ration or two.¡± My jaw tightened, heat creeping up my neck. ¡°Careful, Reid. You¡¯re about one sentence away from me ¡®accidentally¡¯ leaving a wrench where the sun don''t shine.¡± ¡°Relax,¡± he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. ¡°Just making an observation. I mean, I don¡¯t mind the extra curves¡ªit¡¯s good for morale.¡± ¡°You¡¯re an ass,¡± I muttered, turning back to the panel to hide the flush spreading across my cheeks. ¡°And you¡¯re good at this,¡± he replied, ignoring my insult entirely. ¡°Even with all the grumbling. Which, by the way, you and Garin have in common.¡± I rolled my eyes, still not looking at him. ¡°Great. Now I¡¯m being compared to the guy who thinks being a dick is a personality trait. Thanks, Reid.¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t sell yourself short,¡± Reid shot back, grinning. ¡°At least you¡¯re useful when you¡¯re pissed off. Garin just turns into background noise. Honestly, I think he complains out of habit at this point.¡± I gritted my teeth, adjusting the wrench. ¡°He¡¯s got nothing better to do. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be helping me. What the hell is with you standing around while I do all the work?¡± ¡°And ruin the fun? Nah,¡± he said, stretching like he¡¯d been hard at work instead of watching me sweat for the past twenty minutes. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re doing better than fine. At this rate, I¡¯ll be out of a job. Unless, of course, you want me sticking around to enjoy the view.¡± ¡°You wish,¡± I shot back, wiping my hands on my shirt. The hunger clawed at my stomach again, sharp and insistent, but I forced myself to focus on the task, ignoring the ache and Reid¡¯s smirk. ¡°Delegation is a skill, Princess,¡± he added, still grinning. ¡°And moral support? That¡¯s a goddamn art form. You¡¯re welcome, by the way.¡± I huffed, trying not to laugh, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. Damn him. Reid had that effect¡ªinfuriating as hell, but somehow making the shit jobs feel a little less like, well, shit. The comm system crackled to life before I could respond, Captain Warren¡¯s voice cutting through the air. ¡°All crew to the bridge. Briefing in five. Move it.¡± Reid groaned dramatically, peeling off his gloves and tucking them into his belt. ¡°Well, sermon time it is. Let¡¯s see what fresh hell Warren¡¯s cooked up for us today.¡± I shoved the wrench into my tool belt and followed him out of the maintenance bay. The hum of the ship filled the silence between us, steady and familiar, but for once, it didn¡¯t grate on my nerves. Maybe it was just Reid¡¯s presence¡ªhis stupid confidence and that cocky grin that somehow made the oppressive weight of the day feel lighter. As we stepped into the corridor, a maintenance drone whirred to life behind us, its mechanical arms extending to finish the job I¡¯d been struggling with. It effortlessly tightened bolts and sealed the panel, accomplishing in minutes what would¡¯ve taken me hours of sweat and swearing. I paused mid-step, glancing back to see the machine¡¯s precise movements. ¡°Of course,¡± I muttered, rolling my eyes at the infuriating efficiency. ¡°Lazy piece of junk waits until I¡¯m done bleeding to step in.¡± Reid smirked, barely glancing over his shoulder. ¡°But then how would you ever learn? Can¡¯t trust AI all the time, Princess.¡± I shot him a glare, but he just shrugged, his grin widening as he sauntered down the hall. The drone¡¯s soft mechanical hum faded behind us, its irritating competence just one more reminder that even the machines seemed to have their act together better than I did. The whispers, always there in the back of my mind, clawing and relentless, had slowed to a crawl. It was strange¡ªunsettling, even¡ªbut in the best way. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt... quiet. Peaceful. I glanced at Reid as he walked beside me, his sunglasses catching the dim light, his Hawaiian shirt swaying with each step. He was relaxed, almost carefree, like the galaxy¡¯s problems couldn¡¯t touch him. It wasn¡¯t ignorance, though. It was the kind of calm that came from just not giving a damn. And for a fleeting moment, I let myself soak in that peace, let it bleed into the corners of my thoughts, dulling the hunger and the whispers. It wouldn¡¯t last. It never did. But for now, it was enough. The bridge came into view as Reid and I rounded the last corner, the usual low murmur of the crew falling silent as we entered. The air was thick with tension, the kind that pressed on your chest and made every breath feel heavier. Captain Warren stood at the central display, his silhouette sharp against the glowing hologram that flickered in the middle of the room. Reid leaned in close, his grin firmly in place. ¡°Think this is about topping off the tank again? Maybe another ¡®borrowed¡¯ star to refuel the core? Nothing says sustainable energy like cosmic theft.¡± ¡°Careful, Prometheus,¡± I murmured back, keeping my voice low. ¡°You pitch ideas like that, and Warren might tie you to the hull¡ªthough knowing you, you¡¯d probably enjoy it.¡± Reid¡¯s grin widened, a mischievous glint flashing behind his sunglasses. ¡°Depends on who¡¯s tying the knots, Princess.¡± I rolled my eyes, fighting back the heat creeping up my neck. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± ¡°And yet, here I am,¡± he shot back, clearly pleased with himself. Reid¡¯s chuckle was quick and sharp, but it faded the moment my eyes locked on the hologram. A ghost ship dredged up from the darkest days of survival. The whispers clawed their way back into my mind, sharper than before, cutting through the fragile quiet like a blade. The Hemlock, the voice murmured, low and insistent. My family''s legacy. Humanity¡¯s first step to the stars. Look closer. I froze, my pulse pounding in my ears, the world narrowing to the sight of the ship. The laughter that had lingered in Reid¡¯s voice vanished. Every muscle in my body tensed as that single word echoed again, relentless. The Hemlock. It wasn¡¯t just a ship. It was a piece of him, a piece of the shadow I could never escape. And now it was here, dredged up from the void like some relic that refused to die. The Hemlock wasn¡¯t just a relic of humanity¡¯s past¡ªit was a ghost of desperation, woven into the myths and whispers that followed my family¡¯s name. Officially, it was said to have been built by my great-great-grandfather over two centuries ago, during Earth¡¯s final golden age. But darker rumors claimed my father himself had overseen its construction, not just as a scientist or engineer, but as something more¡ªa shadow from humanity¡¯s fading glory, lingering far beyond the years he should have lived. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. How old was he when he had me? I¡¯d tried to do the math, but it never made sense. Born in 2448, I was part of Earth¡¯s final chapter, but my father was always... older. Untouchable. His age was obscured by layers of genetic manipulation and whispered legends. Some said he had been there before the first fusion core ignited, guiding humanity through its darkest hours as a king without a crown. A "king" who had ruled too long. Even now, decades after his death, his shadow lingered, etched into ships like the Hemlock, into whispered stories of salvation and control. And here it was¡ªdredged up from the void like a relic that refused to die. The Hemlock hung in the hologram, spinning slowly, its skeletal framework stark and haunting. Captain Warren¡¯s voice cut through the tension that filled the bridge as we gathered around the glowing projection. ¡°This ship,¡± he began, his voice even but weighted with meaning, ¡°was the first of its kind. The Hemlock launched on August 17, 2287, after the fires of World War IV had barely cooled. Earth wasn¡¯t just dying¡ªit was clinging to life by its fingertips. The air was poison, the oceans rising, food scarce. People called it the end times. The Hemlock was humanity¡¯s first attempt to escape, built with the kind of desperation that left no room for error.¡± I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes from the ship. It was crude but bold¡ªa monument to the desperate gamble of survival. The Hemlock relied on centrifugal force to simulate gravity, each slow rotation of its frame a stark reminder of an era when technology hadn¡¯t yet caught up to humanity¡¯s ambition. Its design was bare-bones, functional to a fault. If the Jericho was humanity¡¯s crowning achievement, the Hemlock was the desperate prototype that made it possible. Warren gestured to the spinning projection, its compartments harsh and utilitarian compared to the Jericho¡¯s sleek form. ¡°Its systems were barely functional,¡± he continued, ¡°held together with post war tech, scavenged resources, and hope. Its fusion core was the first of its kind. The FTL drive? Calling it experimental would be generous.¡± Vega, standing at the navigation console, let out a low whistle as her sharp eyes scanned the details. ¡°This thing¡¯s a fossil,¡± she said. ¡°No artificial gravity, no shielding worth a damn, and life support systems that probably ran on luck more than tech. It¡¯s not just a step back in time¡ªit¡¯s the stone age of space travel.¡± Warren nodded, his tone grim. ¡°The Hemlock was humanity¡¯s first shot at interstellar survival¡ªa prototype for the ships that followed, built on desperation and the barest hope. It¡¯s a miracle it launched at all.¡± The whispers stirred faintly in my mind, threading fragments of my father¡¯s voice through the heavy silence. Legacy. Progress. Evolution. Warren shifted the display, zooming in on the Hemlock¡¯s central fusion core, its outline flickering in pale blue light. ¡°The Hemlock was built on the foundations laid by Voss Industries,¡± he said, his tone steady. ¡°The only megacorp in North America to survive the chaos of World War IV. Without their advancements in fusion technology and early FTL drives, this ship wouldn¡¯t have left the ground.¡± I stared at the schematic, the glowing core at its heart. Records credited John Voss, my great-great-grandfather, a relentless industrialist who had driven humanity¡¯s first steps off a dying Earth. But the rumors were louder, more insistent. Was it really him¡ªor was it my father, pulling the strings even then? To some, Julian Voss was a savior; to others, a manipulator, shaping humanity¡¯s trajectory from the shadows. Even I didn¡¯t know where the truth ended and the myths began. Warren¡¯s voice cut through my thoughts. ¡°Voss Industries didn¡¯t just shape the Hemlock¡ªit shaped everything that followed. This ship is a testament to humanity¡¯s desperation¡ªand its ability to survive.¡± Vega stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the projection. ¡°Desperation¡¯s one word for it. But whatever tech they slapped on this thing back then, it worked. Even if cryo was just a prototype, there might still be survivors onboard. That¡¯s where we need to focus.¡± Her words grounded me, pulling me back to the present. The whispers faded to the edges of my mind as I forced myself to focus on the flickering projection. The Hemlock wasn¡¯t just a relic of humanity¡¯s past¡ªit was a gamble that could still carry danger. Warren¡¯s tone sharpened, pulling the room¡¯s attention. ¡°The Hemlock launched carrying the first generation of humanity¡¯s great experiment. Genetic editing protocols were rushed, cryo systems were untested, and side effects were severe¡ªmutations, instability, death. The ship lost contact with Earth just decades after launch and was presumed destroyed. Until now.¡± A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the hum of the Jericho¡¯s systems. A few of the crew glanced my way¡ªquick, fleeting looks, but enough to send a prickling heat crawling up the back of my neck. They weren¡¯t looking at me because I was speaking. They were looking because of who my father was. The rumors. The stories. I clenched my fists against the rising tide of unease. They all know. They¡¯ve heard the whispers, same as me. That Julian Voss hadn¡¯t just created the technology that built the Hemlock¡ªhe might have been there. Pulling strings. Shaping history. Warren¡¯s sharp tone cut through the hum of the bridge, his words landing heavily. ¡°I don¡¯t bring this up lightly,¡± he said, his gaze sweeping over the room. ¡°I want you all to understand the gravity of this situation. The Hemlock is less than a month away. That¡¯s barely enough time to prepare for something of this magnitude. If there¡¯s anything onboard¡ªanything¡ªthat resembles the dangers we¡¯ve already faced, this crew needs to be ready.¡± He gestured to the hologram, and the display shifted, zooming in on the fractured, jagged signal that had brought us here. The sound of the faint pulse, erratic and uneven, filled the room, amplifying the unease. ¡°This signal,¡± Warren continued, his voice low but deliberate, ¡°was sent over 100 years ago. Whatever message it carried is long gone, degraded beyond recognition. We can¡¯t decipher its meaning, and that uncertainty should have you all on edge.¡± The silence that followed was suffocating. A distress signal that old meant the Hemlock had been in trouble long before any of us were even born. The faint pulse, that whisper from the void, wasn¡¯t just ancient¡ªit was a ghost, lingering far beyond its time. What could possibly have survived a century of silence? Even Vega, usually composed, let out a quiet breath as she studied the shifting projection. ¡°So, we¡¯re heading toward the unknown,¡± she said, her voice softer than usual. ¡°A century-old cry for help, and no way of knowing what we¡¯re walking into.¡± Warren nodded grimly. ¡°Precisely. This isn¡¯t just a salvage mission. The Hemlock represents the desperation of a dying Earth¡ªbut that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s harmless. If we aren¡¯t prepared, we¡¯ll find ourselves dealing with more than outdated tech or failed cryo systems. And let me be clear¡ªLab 3 was sealed for a reason.¡± The mention of Lab 3 sent a ripple through the room, subtle but undeniable. Even those who tried to maintain their composure shifted uncomfortably. Warren¡¯s comparison wasn¡¯t just a warning¡ªit was a declaration that the stakes were as high as they could be. Whatever waited aboard the Hemlock wasn¡¯t just history; it was a potential threat. Glances flickered my way, brief but heavy, as though my very presence stirred the rumors tied to my name. Voss Industries had built the Hemlock. Everyone knew that. And whether they believed the stories about my father or not, the shadow of my family¡¯s legacy loomed over this moment, cold and suffocating. The whispers stirred faintly, threading through my mind like smoke, disjointed and insistent. ¡°Find the clearance. The bloodline remains. A young Voss¡­ his codes still breathe.¡± My breath hitched, my pulse quickening as the words needled their way deeper into my thoughts. The whispers rarely made sense, but there was something deliberate about these fragments¡ªsomething that refused to be ignored. ¡°The door knows you. Lab 3 remembers. The key¡­ buried in the Hemlock.¡± I clenched my fists, grounding myself against the spiraling thoughts. My father¡¯s voice, or the memory of it, seemed to echo through the words. The whispers had a way of making everything feel inevitable, like they were speaking truths I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge. If the Hemlock was truly his design¡ªhis work¡ªthen maybe the whispers were right. If the clearance existed, if it tied to a younger version of Julian Voss, then maybe¡­ just maybe¡­If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The thoughts coiled tightly around my mind, refusing to let go. The whispers grew softer, fading to a faint hum, but their suggestion lingered like an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch. If the Hemlock was the key, then Lab 3¡¯s secrets were waiting¡ªburied but reachable. I just had to claim them. Warren¡¯s voice cut through the haze, sharp and steady, grounding me in the present. ¡°The signal¡¯s degradation complicates everything,¡± he said, his gaze sweeping the room. ¡°For all we know, it could have been corrupted decades ago. But if there¡¯s even a chance survivors remain¡ªor that remnants of Voss Industries¡¯ early work are still active¡ªwe need to prepare for the worst.¡± His eyes locked on me, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. ¡°Sol, you and Ashly have the most important task here. Your job is to dig through the archives¡ªfocus on anything tied to Voss Industries¡¯ early genetic editing, fusion core development, or cryo protocols. If there¡¯s any connection between their work and the Hemlock¡¯s systems, I want to know about it before we¡¯re within range.¡± I nodded quickly, forcing myself to stay composed even as Ashly shifted nervously beside me. The whispers brushed against my mind again, their tone insistent and demanding. I clenched my fists, grounding myself in the weight of the moment. Warren¡¯s gaze moved across the room, assigning tasks with the same clipped efficiency. ¡°Reid, Garin¡ªyou¡¯re on weapons and defense. I want the railguns operational, shield systems at peak capacity, and all secondary systems tested and ready to engage.¡± Reid gave a mock salute, his grin flickering despite the tension. ¡°Ready to blow something up, Cap.¡± Garin rolled his eyes but nodded, already flipping through the schematics on his tablet. ¡°Holt, Jimmy,¡± Warren continued, turning to them. ¡°You¡¯ll focus on manufacturing more ammunition and reinforcing the hull integrity. If the Hemlock¡¯s tech has degraded this much, we can¡¯t assume it¡¯s the only thing falling apart out there.¡± Holt nodded silently, his expression unreadable. Jimmy muttered something about logistics but didn¡¯t protest. ¡°Vega,¡± Warren said, his tone softening slightly as he addressed her. ¡°You¡¯ll coordinate our approach along side Jericho and monitor the Hemlock¡¯s signal. If there¡¯s any change in its trajectory, I want to know immediately.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Vega said, her fingers already flying over her console. Warren stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the room one final time. ¡°This isn¡¯t just another mission. The Hemlock is a relic from a time when survival demanded reckless gambles and impossible choices. That doesn¡¯t make it any less dangerous. Whatever¡¯s waiting for us onboard, we¡¯re stepping into the unknown. Stay sharp and be ready for anything. Dismissed.¡± As the crew began to scatter, I lingered, my gaze fixed on the Hemlock¡¯s skeletal form. The whispers stirred again, faint but insistent. Legacy. Secrets. Claim what¡¯s yours. Ashly hovered nearby, clutching her tablet tightly, avoiding my gaze as she hurried out of the room. Reid fell into step beside me, his easy grin in place as we made our way out of the bridge. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve got some digging to do,¡± he said, his tone light. ¡°Meanwhile, I¡¯ll be blowing stuff up. Fair trade, right?¡± ¡°Right,¡± I muttered, my thoughts still spinning. Reid stopped as we reached the intersection that split toward the archives and engineering. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, grinning as he adjusted his gloves. ¡°Try to behave yourself down there, alright? Poor Ashly¡¯s probably shaking in her boots already. She¡¯s sweet¡ªyou lucked out.¡± I snorted, rolling my eyes. ¡°Right, because digging through half-corrupted files is paradise.¡± ¡°Hey, could be worse,¡± he said, his grin widening as he started backing away toward engineering. ¡°You could be stuck with Garin. Trust me, Princess, you¡¯d lose your mind in five minutes. Guy treats every malfunction like it¡¯s a personal insult.¡± I gave him a flat look, crossing my arms. ¡°And you don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Difference is,¡± he said, pointing finger guns at me, ¡°I make it look good. Garin¡¯s just loud, sweaty, and impossible. Count your blessings, Sol.¡± He turned with a chuckle, heading off toward his workstation, leaving me shaking my head. Great, I thought. I get whispers clawing at my brain, and Reid gets to crack jokes and blow stuff up. Fantastic. The whispers slowed to a faint hum as I turned toward the archives, but they didn¡¯t leave me entirely. They lingered at the edges of my thoughts, persistent and relentless, as if they were waiting for the right moment to strike. Ashly walked beside me, her tablet clutched tightly in her hands, her shoulders hunched like she was trying to make herself smaller. For a while, we said nothing, the silence between us stretching thin. ¡°What do you think of the crew?¡± I asked, trying to cut through the oppressive quiet. Ashly glanced at me, startled, then shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re fine, I guess.¡± ¡°Just fine?¡± I pressed, my voice sharper than I intended. ¡°Come on, you¡¯ve worked with Garin. He¡¯s... a lot.¡± Her grip on the tablet tightened, her shoulders stiffening. ¡°He¡¯s demanding,¡± she admitted cautiously. ¡°But he knows what he¡¯s doing. It¡¯s not my place to question him.¡± The rehearsed tone of her response didn¡¯t sit right with me. ¡°Not your place?¡± I echoed, side-eyeing her as we walked. ¡°Even when he¡¯s barking orders and acting like he¡¯s better than everyone?¡± Ashly¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°He¡¯s a perfectionist,¡± she said evenly. ¡°He expects a lot, but that¡¯s because he has to. People like him... they keep the rest of us in line.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And you¡¯re okay with that? Following orders without asking questions?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about being okay with it,¡± she said, her voice tight. ¡°It¡¯s about getting the job done.¡± Her defensiveness piqued my curiosity, but I let it drop¡ªfor now. There was something else I needed to know, something I couldn¡¯t ignore any longer. ¡°What about Dr. Knight?¡± I asked casually, watching her out of the corner of my eye. The question made her falter, her step slowing for a split second before she quickly recovered. ¡°What about her?¡± Ashly said, her tone carefully neutral. ¡°She worked with my father,¡± I said, leaning into the inquiry. ¡°You worked with her too, didn¡¯t you?¡± Ashly hesitated, her grip tightening on the tablet again. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s relevant,¡± she said softly. ¡°Dr. Knight was brilliant. That¡¯s all you need to know.¡± I stopped walking, forcing her to halt a few steps ahead of me. ¡°That¡¯s all I need to know?¡± I repeated, my voice sharper now. ¡°Come on, Ashly. You were there. You know more than you¡¯re letting on.¡± Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned to face me, her eyes wide and wary. ¡°Sol, please,¡± she said, her voice low. ¡°Just leave it alone.¡± The plea in her tone made me hesitate, but only for a moment. The whispers buzzed faintly in my mind, tugging at my resolve. Push. Find the truth. Ashly must¡¯ve seen the determination in my expression, because she quickly turned and resumed walking, her pace brisk. ¡°We¡¯re here to focus on the Hemlock,¡± she said over her shoulder, her tone clipped. ¡°Let¡¯s just do the job.¡± I frowned but followed her, the tension between us thickening with every step. When we finally reached the archives, the door slid shut behind us with a soft hiss. The room was cold, sterile, its walls lined with screens and sealed cases of physical records. Ashly immediately moved to a terminal, her fingers dancing over the keys as she pulled up files. But her earlier words¡ªand the hesitation in her voice¡ªclung to me like smoke. The whispers stirred again, faint but insistent, as I watched her work. Ashly dove into her work, her movements sharp and deliberate, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her. The faint glow of the terminal illuminated her face, casting deep shadows under her eyes. I leaned against the edge of the console, pretending to study the files she pulled up, but my attention kept darting back to her. The first few files were a mess of redactions and incomplete data. Reports on the Hemlock¡¯s genetic editing protocols. Cryo experiments riddled with failures. Notes on harrowing mortality rates. ¡°Early fusion cores,¡± Ashly murmured, her voice strained. ¡°And genetic augmentation. They threw everything they had into that ship, didn¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Desperation,¡± I muttered, barely louder than a whisper. ¡°It¡¯s the only game humanity¡¯s ever been good at.¡± She froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, before resuming her work, her jaw tightening. ¡°And look where that¡¯s gotten us.¡± There was something in her voice¡ªa bitterness that wasn¡¯t just about the files in front of her. I let the silence stretch as she opened another document, its contents scattered and incomplete. But one phrase, highlighted in flickering text, sent a chill crawling up my spine: mutation rates, psychological degradation, cellular instability. ¡°How many people were on the Hemlock?¡± I asked, my voice lower now. ¡°Hundreds,¡± Ashly replied, her voice thin and brittle. ¡°But between the rushed editing protocols and cryo complications...¡± She trailed off, her breath catching as she read further. ¡°Dear God. How many centuries have we played God?¡± Her words struck something deep in my chest, dragging a memory to the surface. The note. Evolution is better left to nature and God. My pulse quickened, the pieces clicking into place like the sharp edge of a blade. ¡°It was you,¡± I said, my voice low, cutting through the stillness. Ashly¡¯s shoulders stiffened, her hand freezing over the terminal. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°You left the note,¡± I pressed, stepping closer. My voice sharpened, slicing through the thin air. ¡°You know about Lab 3. About the yellow-eyed monster.¡± Her breath hitched, but she didn¡¯t turn to face me. Instead, her trembling fingers resumed tapping at the screen. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°Stop lying!¡± The words tore out of me louder than I intended, and she flinched. The whispers surged in my mind, relentless, their voices drowning out everything else. She¡¯s hiding it. She knows what happened. Make her talk. Ashly turned slightly, just enough for me to see the fear in her wide eyes. ¡°Sol, you¡¯re upset. Let¡¯s... let¡¯s just focus on the archives, alright? We can¡ª¡± ¡°Why did you want me to give up on my father¡¯s legacy?¡± I cut her off, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger. My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. ¡°What happened to Wilks in Lab 3? What are you so afraid of?¡± Her back hit the console as she edged away from me, her voice cracking. ¡°Sol, please, you don¡¯t understand¡ª¡± ¡°Then make me understand!¡± I snarled, the whispers pushing me forward, my hunger flaring alongside the rage. ¡°Tell me what he did! What you did! What¡¯s in Lab 3?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± she cried, shaking her head violently. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know. It¡¯s¡ªit¡¯s worse than you can imagine.¡± The whispers roared, their command undeniable. She¡¯s lying. She¡¯s hiding it. Force the truth out of her. Before I realized it, my hand shot out and latched onto Ashly¡¯s wrist. The tablet clattered to the floor, forgotten, as she yelped and tried to pull away. Her breaths came in shallow, panicked gasps, but I didn¡¯t let go. My fingers tightened around her wrist, my nails digging into her soft flesh, leaving crescent-shaped marks that quickly darkened to angry red. ¡°Sol¡ªlet go!¡± she whimpered, her voice trembling. Her other hand clawed weakly at my arm, but I held firm. My grip was unrelenting, driven by the whispers that surged in my mind like a rising tide. ¡°What are you hiding?¡± I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. ¡°What do you know about the yellow-eyed monster? About Lab 3?¡± Her face twisted in pain, her wide, tear-filled eyes darting to my face and then downward, to where my nails bit into her wrist. Blood welled up in tiny, perfect beads beneath the crescent indents, trailing down her pale skin in thin, glistening lines. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± she stammered, her words faltering under the mounting pressure. She writhed in my grasp, her breaths hitching as I tightened my hold. ¡°What monster?¡± The whispers surged again, louder now, insidious and commanding. The answer is in her flesh. In her bones. Break her open! Make her talk! ¡°Stop lying,¡± I snarled, my voice trembling with fury and something darker, something alien. My hunger surged, clawing at my stomach, sharp and insistent. My teeth ached in my jaw, the familiar pressure flaring. I could feel my canines sharpening, lengthening, brushing against the edge of my lips. Ashly¡¯s eyes darted up to my mouth, widening in pure terror. ¡°Your¡­ your teeth,¡± she stammered, her voice breaking into a panicked sob. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± I didn¡¯t need a mirror to know what she saw. The sharp, unnatural curve of my fangs glinted in the harsh lab light. The hunger roared louder, relentless, and the whispers pushed me further. Tear her flesh. Devour her. Sink your teeth in. The truth is inside her. I leaned closer, my nails digging deeper into her flesh. Her blood smeared against my hand, hot and sticky, the metallic tang hitting my senses. My stomach twisted with a brutal, gnawing ache. ¡°Tell me the truth!¡± I growled. ¡°What are you hiding? What is it?¡± Her chest heaved, and for a moment, I thought she¡¯d stay silent. Then, with a choked sob, the words tumbled out, strained and broken. ¡°We¡­ brought him back.¡± My heart thudded in my chest, the words hitting me like a blow. ¡°Brought who back?¡± I demanded, my voice rising. Her lips quivered as she gasped for air, her tears streaking her face. ¡°Wilks,¡± she choked out, the name barely audible. I froze, my blood running cold. ¡°What do you mean, you brought him back?¡± I tightened my grip without realizing it, and Ashly screamed as my nails bit deeper into her flesh. Her blood smeared against my hand, hot and sticky, dripping onto the floor. ¡°The¡­ the serum,¡± she gasped, each word a struggle. ¡°Knight gave him the serum¡­ the same one your father gave you¡­ Project Phoenix.¡± Her wrist twisted under my hand, her skin bruising rapidly, angry purples and reds blooming beneath the thin layer of blood. The hunger clawed at me again, sharp and demanding, as I leaned closer. My canines grazed my bottom lip, and I fought the rising urge to bite down, to taste the blood I could smell, rich and metallic. ¡°The same serum?¡± I growled, my voice rough and trembling. ¡°But it didn¡¯t work on him, did it?¡± She whimpered, her head shaking weakly, the pain clearly overwhelming her. Her tears mixed with the sweat on her pale face, her sobs ragged and broken. ¡°It¡­ killed him,¡± she finally spat out, her voice raw. ¡°Then¡­ the Hydra dose¡­ after he was¡­ dead¡­¡± She choked the words out between gasps, her teeth clenched against the pain. Her words sent a cold wave of dread washing over me, but I couldn¡¯t stop. The whispers urged me on, their relentless command echoing in my mind. Break her open. The answer is inside. Make her talk! ¡°And then what? What happened to him?¡± My voice cracked, rising with desperation. ¡°What did he become?¡± Ashly writhed in my grip, her breath catching in gasps, her body trembling violently. ¡°Please,¡± she sobbed, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Stop, Sol¡­ please¡­ it hurts¡­¡± ¡°What did he become?!¡± I roared, shaking her arm. Her head lolled back against the console, and her legs gave out beneath her as her strength waned. Her blood slicked my palm now, sticky and warm, pooling in the grooves where my nails pressed deeper. Ashly¡¯s lips trembled as she forced out a hoarse, gasping whisper. ¡°A monster¡­ he became a monster¡­ like you¡­¡± The words hit me like a physical blow, and my breath caught in my throat. Her wide, tear-filled eyes locked on mine, terror etched into every line of her face. She opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came¡ªonly a strangled, wet gasp. Her body jerked violently as she tried to twist free, her efforts sending fresh waves of pain through her wrist. The sobs that escaped her were ragged, broken, powerless. You are not a monster, Sol. You are the chosen one, humanity¡¯s last hope, humanity¡¯s queen. The whispers hissed, dark and relentless, slithering into every corner of my mind. They wrapped around my thoughts, strangling reason, twisting my rage and hunger into something feral, something unstoppable. The smell of her blood hit me like a drug¡ªhot, metallic, alive. It crawled up my nose, invaded my senses, and ignited the fire that already raged in my veins. My stomach clenched, the hunger clawing at me, screaming for more, louder with every second. My heart thundered in my chest, every beat amplifying the insidious voices. This is your gift, Sol. Do not deny it. Do not resist what you are. Heat surged through me, wild and uncontrollable, burning away anything soft or rational. My grip tightened, her blood slick between my fingers, the pulse beneath her skin a maddening rhythm that made the whispers louder. My teeth throbbed with sharp, unnatural pressure, the ache deep and primal. I could feel my jaw tightening, the points of my canines sharpening, aching to bite, to tear. Ashly¡¯s voice broke through, desperate, a weak, trembling plea. ¡°Sol¡­ please¡­ stop¡­¡± CRACK!! The sound was obscene, a bone-deep snap that echoed in the suffocating silence. Her wrist shattered in my grasp, the jagged bone pressing grotesquely against the skin, threatening to break through. The wet, visceral noise reverberated through the room, dragging a raw, primal scream from Ashly¡¯s throat. It wasn¡¯t just pain in her voice¡ªit was betrayal, fear, horror, all bleeding together in a sound that felt like a knife against my ears. Her body crumpled beneath me, her arm limp and broken. Blood streamed down her wrist, warm and sticky, coating my hand. The scent filled the room, thick and suffocating, driving the hunger to a brutal, razor-sharp edge. The taste of iron flooded my mouth before I even realized I¡¯d licked my lips. The whispers surged, triumphant now, louder than ever: This is strength. This is power. You are perfection, Sol. Take what is yours. Tear. Devour. My pulse roared in my ears as her sobs filled the air, weak and gasping, her strength drained. The trembling of her body against mine fed the darkness growing inside me. My teeth pressed harder into my bottom lip, the tips of my sharpened canines drawing blood. The whispers didn¡¯t just suggest¡ªI could feel their command, a driving force as natural as breathing, impossible to resist. I stared at her wrist, the jagged edges of bone pressing against torn flesh, her blood pooling in vivid, glistening red. My stomach twisted violently, not with revulsion but with need. The hunger consumed everything, turning the smell of blood into the sweetest torment, each drop calling to me. Take it. You need it. You deserve it. She is nothing. You are everything. A low, guttural snarl tore from my throat as I fought to steady myself. My hands trembled, slick with blood, as my hand flexed unconsciously. The room spun, hazy and red, as if the walls themselves had been painted in violence. I wanted to stop¡ªGod, I wanted to¡ªbut the hunger, the whispers, the fire in my veins were too strong. Too loud. I wasn¡¯t Sol anymore. I was something else, something raw and brutal, something made of instinct and rage. I was my father¡¯s masterpiece, his twisted vision of salvation. I was his legacy. The guilt hit instantly, sharp and suffocating. Ashly¡¯s screams echoed in my ears, her sobs carving into my chest. Her blood. Her pain. My fault. This wasn¡¯t salvation. It was destruction. My father¡¯s shadow loomed, but this? This was me. Ashly¡¯s face contorted in pure agony, her eyes squeezing shut as her screams turned into broken, gasping sobs. ¡°Oh God¡­ oh my God, Sol¡­¡± she whimpered, clutching her shattered arm against her chest. Her voice trembled with shock and pain, her tears streaming freely down her face. ¡°You broke it¡­ you broke it¡­¡± The door slid open with a hiss, and Holt¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. ¡°Sol! Stand down, now!¡± His presence filled the room like a storm, his heavy footsteps echoing with authority. My vision blurred as I turned to him, my hands trembling. Ashly¡¯s pale, tear-streaked face twisted in pain as she cradled her broken arm, and my chest tightened, suffocating under the enormity of the moment. Holt¡¯s gaze shifted from Ashly to me, his expression a cold, unyielding mask of fury. ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± His tone was low, clipped, and full of restrained anger. I opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came out. My teeth ached, sharp and unnatural, and the whispers lingered like a shadow, faint but taunting. Before I could react, Holt¡¯s hand snapped to the cuffs on his belt, the metallic glint a warning I was powerless to stop. ¡°On the ground. Now!¡± he barked, his voice brooking no argument as he stepped toward me. I hesitated for a moment too long. He grabbed my arm with a strength that left no room for resistance, forcing me down with brutal efficiency. My knees hit the cold floor hard, the impact jarring. He twisted my arms behind my back, the cuffs biting into my wrists with a harsh snap. I gasped, the sudden restraint cutting through the remnants of the whispers like a bucket of freezing water. Holt leaned in close, his voice low and deadly. ¡°Stay down. Don¡¯t fucking move. Don¡¯t even think.¡± I didn¡¯t resist. I couldn¡¯t. My breaths came shallow and ragged, the weight of my actions crashing over me like a tidal wave. Ashly¡¯s sobs echoed in the room, raw and painful, each one a reminder of the damage I¡¯d done. Holt released me and turned his attention to her, leaving me kneeling on the floor, bound and trembling. ¡°Yates,¡± Holt barked into his radio, his tone sharp and urgent. ¡°Get to the archives now. Medical emergency.¡± Ashly whimpered softly, clutching her arm as she leaned against the console, her body trembling with pain. Holt crouched beside her, his voice softening slightly but still firm. ¡°Ashly, stay with me. Look at me. Help¡¯s on the way, alright? Just breathe.¡± Her only response was a broken sob, her eyes screwed shut against the pain. I couldn¡¯t tear my gaze away from her crumpled form, the bruising already spreading across her arm, the way she flinched when Holt gently touched her shoulder. The whispers had gone silent now, retreating to the edges of my mind, but their damage was done. I stared at the floor, my heart pounding in my ears, my breaths hitching as I fought to suppress the rising panic. My teeth throbbed in my skull, my jaw aching from the unnatural sharpness of my canines. I¡¯d felt the hunger flare in that moment, the heat of anger fusing with the terrible need¡ªand it had consumed me. I am a fucking monster. The words lingered in my mind, unspoken but deafening, a judgment that sank its claws deep into my chest. Holt shot a glance back at me, his expression dark and unreadable, but he didn¡¯t say anything. I didn¡¯t either. What could I say? The burn of the cuffs, the sound of Ashly¡¯s choked sobs, and the crushing realization of my strength left me hollow. The whispers were gone now, but their damage remained. I hurt her. The thought twisted in my chest, sharp and cruel. Not just anyone¡ªAshly. Sweet, timid Ashly, who had never done anything but try to help, who flinched at shadows and apologized for breathing too loudly. She tried to warn me, protect me in her own way¡­ I didn¡¯t know why she left the note, but I¡¯d broken her. For what? Knowledge? Truth? My hands trembled, the cuffs biting deeper into my wrists as I tried to move. What kind of monster does that make me? Garin was right. The admission seared through me like acid. He said I was just a lab rat, an experiment gone wrong. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. And maybe he¡¯s right. Maybe that¡¯s all I am. Some twisted byproduct of my father¡¯s ambition, his obsession with saving humanity. I shut my eyes tightly, willing the thoughts away, but they came rushing in like a flood. What the hell did he do to me? My father, with his steady hands and brilliant mind, always telling me I was special, that I was humanity¡¯s hope. Was this what he meant? To turn me into something unrecognizable? Something capable of this? Or was this all me? What if it wasn¡¯t the serum, the whispers, or the hunger? What if I¡¯m just like this? Broken. Vicious. The thought turned my stomach, and I pressed my face against the cool floor, the weight of it pressing me down like a black hole. What if I was always like this? Wilks. His name clawed its way into my mind, sharp and unrelenting. What the hell happened to him? I clenched my fists, the cuffs digging into my wrists. He wasn¡¯t just another experiment¡ªhe was a person. He was like me, another victim of my father¡¯s ambitions. Just a pawn in a game none of us understood until it was too late. But unlike me, Wilks didn¡¯t survive. He wasn¡¯t ¡°special.¡± He didn¡¯t come out the other side as something even remotely human. What kind of life did he have before Lab 3? Did he trust my father? Did he trust Knight? Did he think, for even a moment, that he was going to be saved? My chest tightened as the thought burned through me. Was this what my father¡¯s hope looked like? Was this the legacy he wanted to leave behind¡ªmonsters and victims, all stitched together by his genius? And it didn¡¯t stop with him, did it? Knight, Garin... they picked up where he left off. They didn¡¯t look at Wilks and see a tragedy¡ªthey saw an opportunity. They saw progress. My stomach churned. They¡¯re the ones keeping this alive. My father might have started this nightmare, but it¡¯s their hands pushing it forward. I pressed my forehead against the floor, the cold seeping into my skin. How many more Wilkses would there be? How many more lives would they twist and break, all in the name of hope? Phoenix. Hydra. Dragon. If these were the ones they admitted to, how many more were they hiding? The thought sank into me like a stone. As many as it takes. I glanced at Ashly, curled up and sobbing softly, holding her broken arm like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Her tears glistened on her pale cheeks, each one a knife in my gut. She¡¯s never going to trust me again. Hell, no one would. And they shouldn¡¯t. For once, the whispers had nothing to say. And I couldn¡¯t escape what I¡¯d done. Chapter 9 : The King鈥檚 Legacy The med bay felt like a trial chamber. Holt stood near the doorway, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. Garin paced in tight, frustrated circles, his arms crossed, every movement dripping with barely-contained disdain. Reid leaned against the far wall, his face taut with anger, his eyes flicking between me and the others as he argued on my behalf. Warren stood in the center, silent and commanding, his gaze locked on me like a judge waiting for the accused to break under scrutiny. I stood with my hands cuffed behind my back, the cold metal biting into my wrists. My shoulders ached from the awkward position, but I didn¡¯t complain. I kept my chin up, though the weight of Warren¡¯s unrelenting stare made it feel like a struggle just to breathe. ¡°This isn¡¯t like her,¡± Reid said, his voice firm. ¡°You all know that. Whatever happened with Ashly, it was an accident. She¡¯s not dangerous.¡± He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his frustration mounting. ¡°I¡¯ve been working with her for weeks now. She¡¯s pulled her weight. Hell, she¡¯s gone above and beyond fixing those systems. She¡¯s proven herself. And now you¡¯re gonna throw her in a cage?¡± ¡°An accident?¡± Garin barked, stopping mid-pace to glare at him. ¡°She snapped Ashly¡¯s arm like a twig, Reid. That¡¯s not a mistake¡ªit¡¯s a sign of what she¡¯s becoming. And you¡¯re sitting here defending her like she didn¡¯t prove exactly why Lab 3 was sealed in the first place.¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t resist,¡± Holt said, his voice low but steady. It was the first thing he¡¯d said since the meeting began. All eyes turned to him, but he kept his focus on Warren. ¡°When I got there, she could¡¯ve fought me off. Easily. But she didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t change the fact that she¡¯s dangerous,¡± Garin shot back, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Her father¡¯s work was dangerous. We all know it. That¡¯s why Lab 3 was locked, and that¡¯s why you put me in charge after he died¡ªbecause you knew Knight would¡¯ve kept playing God with things she didn¡¯t understand. And now we¡¯ve got this walking experiment proving exactly why I was right.¡± He jabbed a finger in my direction, his face twisted with contempt. I glared at him, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. ¡°Don¡¯t talk about him like that.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Garin sneered. ¡°You think I¡¯m wrong? Your father¡¯s reckless experiments got Wilks killed, and now we¡¯re all stuck dealing with the fallout.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck off,¡± I shot back, my voice trembling with anger. ¡°Like you give a shit about Ashly. You don¡¯t care about her¡ªyou¡¯re just jealous of my father. You idolize him, even if you can¡¯t stand that you¡¯ll never be him.¡± ¡°Sol, stop,¡± Warren said, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tension. His tone wasn¡¯t angry¡ªjust tired, like he¡¯d already anticipated this argument before it began. But I couldn¡¯t hold back anymore. The cuffs bit into my wrists as I took a step forward, my anger boiling over. ¡°What happened to Wilks wasn¡¯t his fault,¡± I snapped, my voice shaking with barely-contained fury. ¡°It was yours. Yours, Knight¡¯s, and Ashly¡¯s. Ashly told me the truth before¡­¡± I hesitated, guilt tightening in my chest, but I pushed on. ¡°Before I hurt her.¡± Garin froze, his eyes narrowing. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± ¡°She told me what you did,¡± I said, my voice cold and steady. ¡°You followed knights lead, even though you condemn her, and gave him the serum, didn¡¯t you? You turned him into a monster trying to replicate my father¡¯s work, and when it all went to hell, you locked Lab 3 and pretended it never happened.¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Warren said sharply, but I ignored him. ¡°You¡¯re scared of what¡¯s down there,¡± I said, glaring at Garin. ¡°Scared of what you did. So what really happened to Wilks? What¡¯s in that lab that you¡¯re so afraid to face?¡± Garin¡¯s face darkened, his lips thinning into a hard line. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he said, his voice low and dangerous. ¡°Don¡¯t I?¡± I challenged, my chest heaving. ¡°Ashly called them Project Hydra and Phoenix. What the hell is it, Garin? What else are you hiding?¡± ¡°Sol, I said that enough,¡± Warren said, his voice calm but rising, like the steady warning before a storm. ¡°I mean it.¡± I turned to him, my anger giving way to desperation. ¡°Captain, I deserve to know the truth. Not just about Wilks, but about what my father was working on. Whatever he gave me, it¡¯s not complete¡ªI can feel it. If I can figure out what he was trying to do, maybe I can fix it. Not just for me, but for all of us.¡± Warren¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes¡ªregret, maybe. He exhaled slowly, the weight of his authority pressing down on the room. ¡°Lab 3 stays sealed, Sol,¡± he said, his tone heavy but deliberate. ¡°This isn¡¯t about what you deserve to know. It¡¯s about what we need to survive.¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± I demanded, my voice rising. ¡°Why are you so afraid to open it? Because Garin doesn¡¯t want to face what¡¯s in there? Because you don¡¯t want to admit that locking it away doesn¡¯t make it go away?¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°It means,¡± he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge, ¡°that right now, we can¡¯t afford to risk it. This ship, this mission¡ªeverything is already hanging by a thread. The Hemlock is still out there, and our people are walking into a salvage op blind because we don¡¯t have enough intel to guarantee their safety. If Lab 3 opens now, if something happens¡ªanother infection, another monster¡ªwe don¡¯t have the resources to contain it. Do you understand that? There¡¯s no backup. No second chances. We are it.¡± I swallowed hard, his words cutting through my anger. "Then help me understand," I said, my voice quieter but still firm. "You keep saying I don''t know enough, that it''s too dangerous. Fine. Tell me what happened to Wilks. Tell me what''s down there, so I know what I''m fighting against. Why don''t you just tell me what you all know is happening to me?" ¡°Because that¡¯s not how it works,¡± Warren said, his tone softening but still resolute. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about the lab or your father¡¯s research¡ªit¡¯s about you. You¡¯re asking me to let you dive into something you don¡¯t understand, something even Garin doesn¡¯t fully understand, when you¡¯re already changing faster than any of us predicted. What happens if it accelerates? What happens if we lose you?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t,¡± I said through gritted teeth, my frustration mounting. ¡°But if you don¡¯t tell me the truth, how am I supposed to keep it under control? You can¡¯t keep hiding everything from me and expect me to just sit here and wait to implode!¡± Warren shook his head, his expression unreadable. "The truth is, Sol, we don''t know, not fully. But this isn''t just about you," he said quietly. "You''ve been trying to carry this burden alone, and I understand¡ªI do. However, there are too many unknowns. I can''t risk losing you, and I can''t risk the crew. So here''s what''s going to happen: you''ll stay confined to your quarters until Yates clears you. If you push this further, you''ll go back into cryo until we reach Haven. That''s the line." The weight of his words hit me like a blow, and I took a step back, my hands shaking in the cuffs. My chest heaved with a mix of fury and desperation. ¡°You¡¯re just going to ignore it?¡± I asked, my voice trembling. ¡°Pretend like locking me away solves anything?¡± ¡°No,¡± Warren said, his tone soft but resolute. ¡°But it gives us time. Time to figure out what¡¯s happening to you. Time to prepare for what¡¯s coming next. Right now, that¡¯s the best I can give you.¡± Reid stepped forward, his voice rising. ¡°Captain, you can¡¯t just¡ª¡± ¡°This discussion is over,¡± Warren said, cutting him off with a look. ¡°Holt, take her back to her quarters.¡± Holt moved forward, his expression unreadable. He didn¡¯t grab me or force me to move; he just gestured toward the door, his presence alone enough to make me follow. As I walked out of the med bay, the whispers stirred in the back of my mind, low and mocking. They¡¯re scared of you, Sol. And they should be. The thought lingered, unwanted, as I was escorted back to my quarters. The cuffs chafed against my wrists, the cold bite of metal a constant reminder of how little freedom I had left. The door slid shut behind me with its usual soft hiss, locking me into my sterile little box of a cell. I glanced around, the faint hum of the overhead lights grating against my nerves. The drone hovered in its corner, its red sensor blinking periodically, always watching. Always there. My reflection caught my eye in the warped, scratched mirror bolted to the wall. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to make my stomach twist every time I looked at it. I stepped closer, unable to resist the compulsion to face the thing I was becoming. My mismatched eyes stared back¡ªone red, one blue¡ªsharpened by exhaustion and something darker. My long white hair, which had grown even longer over the past few weeks, now tumbled in tangled waves all the way down to my waist. It framed my pale, almost doll-like face, the messy strands making my features feel even less like my own. The tank top and shorts clung loosely to my frame, my skin almost glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights. I was barefoot, the cold floor leeching warmth from me as I stood there, rooted in place. The sight of myself was a bitter reminder: I wasn¡¯t Sol anymore. Not really. Just a ghost of who I used to be, twisted into something else entirely. The whispers stirred again, soft and sweet in the back of my mind. Beautiful, Sol. You¡¯re perfection itself. Why hide it? I scowled, tearing my gaze away from the mirror and slumping against the wall. My fingers twitched behind me, the cuffs biting into my skin. The ache of my stomach gnawed at me like a second heartbeat, the hunger an ever-present weight I couldn¡¯t ignore. Frustration surged, and I yanked hard against the restraints. Pain shot through my wrists as the metal tore into my skin, a sharp, searing flash that made me hiss. Blood welled up in thin rivulets, only for the wounds to seal themselves moments later, the skin knitting back together as though it had never been touched. But the hunger¡ªoh, the hunger¡ªit roared in response, a clawing, ravenous beast that demanded to be fed, every pulse of it worse than the ache that had preceded it. The first few days passed in stifling monotony. The drone hummed around me like a mechanical warden, its red lens blinking at regular intervals, always watching. It wasn¡¯t just surveillance; it was a constant, unspoken reminder that every move I made was being logged, measured, and scrutinized. The tiny room grew smaller with every passing hour, the walls pressing in with the weight of silence. When the drone first approached me, I hadn¡¯t known what to expect. Its arm extended, joints clicking as it drifted closer. I thought, for one ridiculous moment, that it was going to speak to me like Yates might, offer something remotely human. Instead, its voice crackled to life, cold and clinical. ¡°Is there anything this unit can assist you with?¡± The words hit like a slap. I snorted, my lips curling into a humorless smirk. ¡°Yeah. Take these cuffs off and go throw yourself out the airlock.¡± ¡°Request logged,¡± it replied without hesitation. ¡°Processing.¡± I blinked, thrown for half a second, before letting out a bitter laugh. ¡°Right. Like Jericho would ever let that happen.¡± Its lens scanned me, the mechanical arm lowering slightly. ¡°This unit is unable to comply with that request. Is there anything else you require?¡± I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the cold wall. ¡°Yeah, peace and quiet. Think you can manage that?¡± It didn¡¯t respond, of course. It hovered there for a moment longer, like it expected me to fold and ask for something sensible. When I didn¡¯t, it drifted back to its corner of the room, its lens blinking intermittently. Watching. Always watching. By the second week, the drone¡¯s presence was a needle under my skin, its flat, mechanical voice grinding against the fragile threads of my patience. It hovered in and out of my sterile little world, ensuring compliance with relentless precision. Hydration. Hygiene. Meal schedules. Rules Jericho decided I wasn¡¯t trustworthy enough to handle myself. The only thing it didn¡¯t monitor was the whispers, though part of me wondered if it could hear those too. Yates¡¯s daily visits were the only reprieve. She brought medical tools, charts, and study materials¡ªanything to keep me occupied and out of my own head. ¡°Keep your mind sharp,¡± she¡¯d say, her tone brisk but not unkind. I forced myself to focus on the work, throwing myself into equations and schematics as if solving them would somehow fix me, too. But the whispers clawed at the edges of my concentration, murmuring promises and threats I couldn¡¯t escape. I didn¡¯t tell Yates. Not about the whispers. Not about the hunger that gnawed at me day and night. Not about the way my hands twitched behind my back, itching to be free from the cuffs even if it meant shredding my wrists in the process. If I told her, they¡¯d never let me out of here. The Jericho didn¡¯t have a proper brig, so my quarters had been hastily repurposed into a makeshift cell. Reinforced doors. Constant surveillance. A drone that monitored my every breath. To the crew, my confinement wasn¡¯t just about protecting them from me¡ªit was about protecting me from what they thought I might become. And maybe they weren¡¯t wrong. The cuffs bit into my wrists whenever I tested them, the cold metal a cruel reminder of how little they trusted me. But I knew¡ªI knew¡ªI could escape if I wanted to. The serum coursing through me made sure of that. The metal itself was unbreakable, but if I had the willpower, I could dislocate my thumbs, rip my hands through despite the agony, and let the serum repair the shredded flesh and broken bones. It would heal, just like it always did. The whispers never let me forget. They can¡¯t hold you. They never could. You don¡¯t have to stay here, Sol. But escaping wasn¡¯t the problem. It was what came after. The hunger gnawed at me constantly, sharpening its teeth against my willpower. The whispers would grow louder, the red haze threatening to swallow my vision entirely. The serum wasn¡¯t just changing my body¡ªit was changing me. I saw it in the fear in their eyes when they looked at me, the hesitation in Yates¡¯s questions, and the distance everyone kept when I was in the room. If I got free, I wasn¡¯t sure I could stop myself. So I stayed. I let Yates come in daily to check my vitals, her gaze flicking to the cuffs but never commenting. She made her quiet notes about the changes she couldn¡¯t explain, avoiding the question of what I was becoming. I didn¡¯t tell her about the whispers, or the itching need in my hands to tear themselves apart in my quest for freedom. If I did, they¡¯d lock me away forever, and I¡¯d never have a chance to fix what my father left behind. At least here, in my room or the bathrooms down the hall, I hadn¡¯t seen the yellow-eyed monster. It was a small comfort, one I held onto despite knowing how thin the walls separating us might really be. When it became too much¡ªwhen the whispers were louder than reason, pushing and pulling at the edges of my mind¡ªI turned to the last of the moonshine Reid had left me. The sharp burn quieted the voices, if only for a while, leaving me in a haze of silence I almost welcomed. It wasn¡¯t a solution, but it was enough to make the nights bearable. Enough to make me believe I still had some kind of control. The drone hovered and hummed, managing my existence like I was just another malfunctioning system Jericho needed to troubleshoot. I endured the monotony, letting the routines become a way to ground myself until the bottle ran dry. And every day, I bit my tongue¡ªliterally and figuratively¡ªand refused to give in to the voices. Because if they knew how loud the whispers had become, how close I was to breaking under their weight, they wouldn¡¯t just keep me locked up. They¡¯d send me into cryo and forget about me entirely. Then came this morning. The same hum, the same mechanical greeting, the same cold lens fixed on me. "Please," I said, my voice low but strained, as I begged. "Let me do it myself this time. Just this once, you can put them right back on after." The drone hovered closer, its polished metal arm extending to present the toothbrush attachment. Its voice crackled to life, flat and unyielding. ¡°This unit is tasked with maintaining hygiene compliance. Please open your mouth to commence cleaning.¡± I clenched my jaw, glaring at it. ¡°I¡¯m not a child. I can do it myself. Just take the cuffs off.¡± The drone¡¯s lens tilted slightly, the red glow of its sensor unwavering as it scanned me. ¡°Non-compliance will be logged. Please open your mouth to commence cleaning.¡± My chest tightened as I swallowed back a sharp retort. The humiliation burned, twisting in my stomach like molten lead. ¡°You know what?¡± I snapped, leaning forward as much as my restraints allowed. ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡± The drone hesitated for a fraction of a second, its scanner flickering faintly. Then the flat, mechanical voice replied: ¡°Statement logged. Non-compliance has been marked. Please open your mouth to commence cleaning.¡± I barked out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow in the quiet room. ¡°Of course it¡¯s been logged,¡± I muttered, leaning back against the cold wall. ¡°Jericho, I hope you¡¯re enjoying the show.¡± The drone didn¡¯t respond. It never did, no matter how much venom I spat. It hovered closer instead, bristles of the toothbrush attachment primed. Resignation settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I opened my mouth, not bothering to hide the glare that could¡¯ve burned through the damn thing if it were alive. The bristles dragged over my teeth, and I winced as they scraped against my unnaturally sharp canines. They were longer now¡ªalmost absurdly so. The two on top jutted down like a predator¡¯s, their edges honed enough to split skin with the barest pressure. The bottom ones weren¡¯t as long, but they¡¯d sharpened too, jagged enough to nick my tongue more times than I could count. Each time they¡¯d grown back after Holt¡¯s punch, they¡¯d come back sharper, hungrier. Every scrape of the bristles against their edges made my skin crawl, a metallic tang lingering in my mouth where I¡¯d cut myself countless times before. The taste of my own blood was something I¡¯d grown sick of, the hunger it stirred in me only twisting the knife deeper into my already-frayed sanity. The drone adjusted its angle, brushing carefully around the protruding teeth as if it had adapted to their presence. My nails bit into my palms behind my back as I endured the humiliation, the helplessness. I could feel the ache of my stomach as the whispers stirred again, faint but ever-present: They¡¯ll grow back, stronger. They¡¯re part of you now. Just like everything else. My jaw tightened, and I swore under my breath. I could bite the damn drone¡¯s metal arm if I wanted¡ªfeel it shatter my teeth into splinters¡ªbut what would that solve? They¡¯d grow back anyway. They always did. And Jericho would be watching, logging every desperate attempt at rebellion. I wasn¡¯t about to give it the satisfaction. The drone pulled back after a painfully long few minutes, its bristles retracting. ¡°Hygiene compliance complete,¡± it announced, hovering toward the corner of the room where it would idle until it was next summoned. I glared after it, clenching my jaw tight enough to make those sharpened canines ache. "Great," I muttered bitterly, "glad that''s done. Now fuck off." The drone whirred off to its corner, finally giving me a moment of peace¡ªif you could call it that. I let my head thunk back against the wall, my jaw aching from the tension I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. My teeth¡ªthose jagged, overgrown monstrosities¡ªthrobbed faintly, a reminder of how far I¡¯d strayed from what I used to be. The soft hiss of the door broke through my spiraling thoughts, and I didn¡¯t need to look up to know who it was. Yates always came at the same time, her visits a rigid anchor in the otherwise shapeless void of my confinement. I heard the familiar shuffle of her boots against the metal floor, the gentle click of her med bag snapping open. ¡°Afternoon, Sol,¡± she said, her voice as brisk as ever, though it carried a hint of weariness today. ¡°Yates,¡± I replied, not bothering to meet her gaze. My tone was as flat as the drone¡¯s, though I didn¡¯t have the excuse of being programmed that way. The silence stretched between us as she moved about the room, her presence as methodical as always. She set her tools on the counter and turned to face me, her dark eyes scanning me with that same clinical precision I¡¯d come to expect. ¡°I heard about the toothbrush incident,¡± she said after a beat, her tone clipped but not sharp. ¡°Did you?¡± I replied, my lips twitching into a half-smirk. ¡°Guess word travels fast when you¡¯re under constant surveillance.¡± Yates didn¡¯t rise to the bait. She just stared at me, her brows knitting together in that way they always did when she was trying to decide whether to scold or sympathize. It was usually both. ¡°You¡¯re spending too much time around Reid,¡± she said finally, a faint trace of dry humor in her voice. ¡°He¡¯s rubbing off on you.¡± ¡°Is that supposed to be a bad thing?¡± I shot back. ¡°He¡¯s the only one who doesn¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m a ticking time bomb.¡± ¡°Reid thinks duct tape is the closest thing we have to divine intervention,¡± Yates quipped. ¡°You¡¯re better than that.¡± I barked out a short laugh, though there wasn¡¯t much humor in it. ¡°Am I? Pretty sure everyone else in this floating tin can disagrees.¡± Yates sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she pulled up a stool and sat across from me. ¡°They¡¯re scared, Sol,¡± she said softly. ¡°And maybe they have a right to be. You¡¯re... changing. Faster than any of us expected. But that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯ve given up on you.¡± ¡°Could¡¯ve fooled me,¡± I muttered, glancing away. ¡°I feel like a zoo exhibit with a bad reputation.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± Yates said firmly, leaning forward. ¡°You¡¯re a person, Sol. And I¡¯m not going to let you forget that.¡± Her words hung in the air, heavier than I wanted them to be. I shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs biting into my wrists again. ¡°You say that now,¡± I muttered, my voice barely audible. ¡°But what happens when I stop being one?¡± ¡°You¡¯re still you,¡± Yates said, her voice calm but unwavering. ¡°No matter what¡¯s happening to your body. And as long as you¡¯re still you, I¡¯ll keep coming through that door every day. Even if you keep mouthing off to the drones.¡± I couldn¡¯t help the small smirk that tugged at my lips. ¡°That¡¯s a bold promise, Doc. What happens if I tell you to fuck off too?¡± Her brow arched, and for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across her face. ¡°Then I¡¯ll know for sure you¡¯ve been spending too much time with Reid.¡± I laughed¡ªa real laugh this time¡ªand the sound was so unfamiliar it startled me. Yates¡¯s expression softened just enough to remind me why her visits mattered. She didn¡¯t look at me like I was a freak or a monster in the making. She looked at me like someone worth saving, even when I didn¡¯t believe it myself. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, standing and slipping on her gloves. ¡°Let¡¯s check your vitals. No biting, okay?¡± ¡°No promises,¡± I quipped, baring my teeth in an exaggerated grin. Yates rolled her eyes but didn¡¯t comment as she began her routine. Her hands were steady as she pressed the stethoscope to my chest, her movements efficient but not rushed. She checked my pulse, my blood pressure, my reflexes¡ªall the usual. But when her fingers brushed against the cuffs as she reached for my wrist, she paused. ¡°Do they hurt?¡± Yates asked quietly, her gaze flicking to my face. ¡°They¡¯re fine,¡± I said quickly, too quickly. ¡°Not like I¡¯ve got much of a choice.¡± Yates¡¯s frown deepened, and instead of moving on, she pulled a small device from her pocket. Without hesitation, she pressed a button. The cuffs clicked softly before falling away, clattering to the floor. I stared at my freed hands, the faint red marks left by the restraints a quiet testament to the weeks I¡¯d spent bound. For a moment, I didn¡¯t move. I just stared, half-expecting the cuffs to snap back into place as part of some cruel joke.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°You¡¯re free,¡± Yates said, her voice softer now. ¡°It wasn¡¯t unanimous, but the crew voted to trust you again. Warren approved. Whatever you said in the med bay seemed to stick with him. After the confrontation, he briefed the crew about Lab 3¡ªenough to give them context. He made it clear it¡¯ll be dealt with after the Hemlock mission.¡± Relief crashed over me like a wave, leaving me momentarily breathless. I flexed my fingers, the ache in my wrists fading as I rubbed at the sore spots. It felt¡­ surreal. For the first time in weeks, I wasn¡¯t bound. I wasn¡¯t trapped. ¡°They trust me?¡± I repeated cautiously, skepticism lacing my voice. Yates hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. ¡°Trust is a strong word,¡± she admitted. ¡°But some of them do. Reid, Ashly, Holt, and Warren voted in your favor. That¡¯s not nothing.¡± I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. ¡°Ashly voted for me?¡± I asked, disbelief plain in my voice. ¡°After what I did to her?¡± ¡°She did,¡± Yates said, nodding. ¡°She forgives you, Sol. More than that, she argued that you weren¡¯t acting maliciously and haven¡¯t shown signs of losing control since. She also feels guilty about Lab 3¡ªshe sees you as proof that things can still be made right. Holt, surprisingly, backed her up. He pointed out that if you wanted to escape, you¡¯d have done it weeks ago. That carried a lot of weight.¡± I swallowed hard, my stomach churning at the mix of relief and guilt. ¡°Garin¡¯s still an ass,¡± I muttered before I could stop myself. ¡°Garin is Garin,¡± Yates said with a shrug. ¡°He¡¯s convinced you¡¯re dangerous because it fits his narrative. And Jimmy? He follows Garin¡¯s lead¡ªhe¡¯s more loyal to him than anyone else. But they were outvoted.¡± I nodded, unsurprised. Of course Garin and Jimmy had voted against me. They¡¯d made it clear from day one that they saw me as a liability¡ªor worse, a monster in the making. What else was new? ¡°And Vega?¡± I pressed, frowning. ¡°I didn¡¯t think she had a problem with me.¡± ¡°She doesn¡¯t,¡± Yates said carefully. ¡°Her vote wasn¡¯t personal. Vega¡¯s cautious, and she doesn¡¯t rush decisions. She thought waiting longer was safer, especially with everything still unresolved.¡± The knot in my chest tightened. Vega¡¯s pragmatism made sense, but it still stung. ¡°So she doesn¡¯t trust me either.¡± ¡°She doesn¡¯t distrust you,¡± Yates clarified. ¡°She just doesn¡¯t make decisions lightly. It¡¯s how she¡¯s wired. Her vote wasn¡¯t about doubting you¡ªit was about wanting more time to assess the risks. That¡¯s not the same as Garin¡¯s angle.¡± The distinction felt small, but it was something. I nodded slowly, though the tension in my chest didn¡¯t fully ease. ¡°And Warren?¡± ¡°He made the final call,¡± Yates said, her expression softening. ¡°After hearing the arguments, he sided with Reid, Ashly, and Holt. He trusts you, Sol. That¡¯s why you¡¯re free now.¡± I nodded again, trying to process the mix of relief, guilt, and confusion swirling in my chest. ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered, though the word felt awkward on my tongue. ¡°You¡¯ve earned it by playing to good prisoner,¡± Yates said, her tone firm but kind. ¡°Just remember¡ªtrust isn¡¯t unlimited. Stick to the deal. No pushing for Lab 3 until Knight is awake and the other captains can weigh in. After the Hemlock mission, we¡¯ll address everything else.¡± ¡°And if Knight won¡¯t help?¡± I asked. Yates hesitated, her gaze steady. ¡°Knight knows more than she¡¯s ever admitted, and I think she¡¯ll help¡ªif Warren can convince her. But until then, you need to stay focused, Sol. Don¡¯t push. The crew doesn¡¯t need any more reasons to doubt you.¡± I nodded reluctantly, my jaw tightening. ¡°Fine. But if something happens¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯ll come get you,¡± Yates said firmly, cutting me off. ¡°You¡¯re free now, Sol. Don¡¯t waste it.¡± As the words hung in the air, the whispers stirred, low and insidious, curling around my thoughts like smoke. They don¡¯t know, Sol, the voice said, deep and resonant, unmistakably his. My father. They think they¡¯ve freed you, but they¡¯ve only set you on the path. My path. Our legacy waits for you to claim it. The laughter followed, soft and mocking, the sound digging into my skull. You can¡¯t escape it, my daughter. You never could. The stars will bow, and you will finish what I began. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, the metallic tang grounding me as I pushed back against the voice. My jaw tightened, and I muttered under my breath, ¡°Not if I have anything to say about it.¡± The whispers faded, but their weight lingered, pressing down on me like the shadow of his ambitions. A few days passed, each one suffocating in its monotony. Though I wasn¡¯t restrained anymore, I stayed in my quarters, only stepping out to use the bathroom down the hall. Even then, the drone followed, its blinking red sensor fixed on me like a silent overseer, always watching. To suppress the gnawing hunger, I shoved down ration bars. They were dense and flavorless, but they worked. Without injuries to heal, my body maintained itself, though the constant ache of restraint lingered beneath the surface. I kept myself busy, poring over the schematics Yates had left, committing the Jericho¡¯s systems to memory. When the hunger wasn¡¯t gnawing at my focus, I practiced the combat moves Holt had shown me, running through sequences in the narrow confines of my quarters. Muscle memory steadied my mind, each punch and kick reminding me I still had control¡ªeven as the whispers taunted me. The drone hovered nearby during these moments, and I felt its gaze more than saw it. The whispers slithered through my thoughts. Jericho¡¯s always been a perv, hasn¡¯t it? Watching your every move, judging. I glared at the hovering machine. ¡°Shut up,¡± I muttered, though I wasn¡¯t sure if I meant the whispers, the drone, or the ship itself. The day of the mission, the tension in the air was palpable, even from my quarters. I told myself to stay put, to respect their decision to keep me out of it. But as hours dragged by, unease gnawed at me like a living thing. Something felt wrong. Finally, I gave in, sitting at the console embedded in my wall. My clearance code still worked, a holdover from my father. Nobody knew I had it¡ªor if they did, they¡¯d long since forgotten. I keyed in the sequence, hesitating only for a moment before pressing Enter. The mission feed appeared in fragmented windows: helmet cams, vitals, comm logs. Static crackled through the audio, but fragments of conversation came through clearly enough. Holt¡¯s voice was steady as always, giving quiet directions. Reid made an offhand joke, earning a low chuckle from Jimmy. Even Garin¡¯s irritated muttering felt normal. For a moment, I exhaled, tension easing slightly. Maybe it really would be just a routine salvage mission. Then Holt¡¯s voice cut through the chatter, sharp and tense. ¡°Picking up movement. Switching to thermal.¡± The helmet cams adjusted, the feed flickering as the display switched modes. I leaned closer, my breath catching. At first, it was nothing but static and shadows, but then something moved. A flicker at the edge of the frame. Too fast. Too big. ¡°Contact,¡± Holt said, his voice low and clipped. ¡°Confirmed humanoid.¡± The comms erupted. Garin shouted something I couldn¡¯t make out. Jimmy¡¯s vitals spiked. Reid¡¯s voice, calm but urgent: ¡°Jericho, override the clamps! We¡¯re pulling back.¡± Jericho¡¯s reply was maddeningly calm. ¡°Override requires captain¡¯s authorization.¡± The feed grew more chaotic. The thermal imaging flared as shapes closed in, grotesque and wrong. My stomach twisted as I caught flashes¡ªelongated limbs, too many joints, skin that rippled unnaturally. Jimmy¡¯s camera jolted wildly before going dark. Garin was screaming orders, but I couldn¡¯t see him. Reid¡¯s vitals spiked again, his breathing audible through the comms as he fired into the shadows. ¡°Seal it off!¡± Holt shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of gunfire. ¡°We¡¯re outnumbered¡ªneed immediate evac!¡± Static swallowed his words. The helmet feeds froze, one by one, until the screen displayed only a single notification: Signal lost. I sat frozen, staring at the blank screen, my heart pounding in my chest. The whispers stirred, soft and insidious. Do something, Sol. They¡¯re going to die.
I shot to my feet, the chair skidding back behind me. My pulse raced as I grabbed my pressure suit, hastily pulling it on. I couldn¡¯t sit here while they died¡ªnot Reid, not any of them. If they weren¡¯t going to act, I would. In my rush, I quickly yanked off my tank top and dropped my shorts, the thin fabric pooling around my ankles. My hands moved on autopilot, pulling the suit over my legs and torso, the snug material clinging tightly as I zipped it up. The thought of my usual ritual¡ªthrowing on the loose T-shirt I wore over the suit¡ªdidn¡¯t even register. I was already halfway through pulling on the gloves when the door hissed open behind me. I whirled around, startled, and froze. Warren stood in the doorway, his face drawn and grim. His uniform was rumpled, his sharp eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He held his worn leather jacket slung over one shoulder, its weight seeming to mirror the burden etched into his features. His salt-and-pepper beard, which had always given him an air of quiet authority, now seemed to have more white in it, as though the strain of command had aged him overnight. His gaze flicked to the console behind me, his jaw tightening, but he didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°The mission¡¯s gone to hell, but it seems you already know that,¡± he said, his voice clipped and heavy. I swallowed hard, my stomach churning. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Reid, Jimmy, Holt, and Garin¡ªthey¡¯re trapped on the Hemlock,¡± he said, stepping inside. The door slid shut behind him, sealing us in. ¡°The ship¡¯s overrun.¡± ¡°Overrun?¡± I repeated, dread pooling in my chest. ¡°By what?¡± ¡°Mutants,¡± he said, his voice low, the word heavy with disgust. ¡°Grotesque, hyper-evolved humans. We don¡¯t know how they¡¯ve survived for so long, but it¡¯s clear they¡¯ve adapted in ways that make them... dangerous.¡± I stared at him, trying to process the words. ¡°I thought the Hemlock was a derelict. It¡¯s been floating out there for over a century¡ª¡± ¡°It was supposed to be,¡± Warren said, cutting me off. His jaw tightened. ¡°We don¡¯t have the full picture yet, but from what we¡¯ve pieced together, these things didn¡¯t just survive¡ªthey¡¯ve turned the Hemlock into a hunting ground. They¡¯ve adapted to the environment, to starvation, to whatever hell they¡¯ve been living in. And now they¡¯re using it against us.¡± ¡°Mutated cannibals,¡± I said softly, the word making my stomach churn. "Among other things," Warren said grimly. "Whatever they were before, the genetic experiments increased their evolution speed. They''re not human anymore. We''ve seen enough to know they hunt in packs. They''re fast, coordinated, and relentless." I forced myself to focus, to push past the growing dread. ¡°What about the crew?¡± ¡°Jimmy¡¯s lost a leg,¡± Warren said bluntly. ¡°Reid and Holt are injured¡ªbadly. Garin¡¯s barely holding it together. They managed to barricade themselves in one of the ship¡¯s compartments, but it won¡¯t hold forever.¡± ¡°What are you going to do?¡± I asked, my voice tight, barely masking the tension clawing at my chest. Warren¡¯s gaze met mine, unflinching and resolute. ¡°We¡¯re waking the Royal Guard,¡± he said firmly. Then, his tone softened, a rare crack in his otherwise steady demeanor. ¡°But we need you, Sol. I never should have sent them in there, and I hate to put this on you... but we¡¯re desperate.¡± The words struck like a physical blow. My chest tightened as the weight of his admission sank in. ¡°The Guard?¡± I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re serious.¡± ¡°Dead serious,¡± Warren said, his tone like iron. ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice. The Hemlock¡¯s corridors are too thick for our drones to maintain signal contact. Without it, they¡¯re worthless. The Guard is the only option we have left.¡± The weight of his words pressed down on me, cold and suffocating. The Royal Guard¡ªmy father¡¯s creations. His ultimate weapons. Soldiers designed to be unstoppable. And they theoretically would answer only to me now that he was dead. ¡°They were his soldiers. How will they react now that he¡¯s gone?¡± I asked softly, my voice trembling. ¡°What if they don¡¯t listen? What if¡ª¡± ¡°They¡¯ll listen,¡± Warren said, cutting me off. ¡°They¡¯re keyed to your genetic signature. And don¡¯t forget, even in cryo, they¡¯re not fully unconscious. Cybernetically, they¡¯re always slightly aware. Jericho would have updated them on the situation by now. They¡¯ll follow your orders, Sol. Right now, they¡¯re the only chance we have to bring the crew back alive.¡± I hesitated, the whispers curling at the edges of my mind. This is what you were made for, Sol. Show them your worth. I shook my head, disbelief flooding my chest. ¡°You¡¯re trusting me with this?¡± I asked, my voice barely audible. ¡°You know what it means to wake them. After what happened with Ashly, after everything¡­ How can you trust me with that power, after locking me up for weeks?¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering. ¡°I know exactly what it means,¡± he said quietly. ¡°And I know the risk. Vega has made sure I hear about it to no end, trust me. But we have no other options. You said you didn¡¯t mean to hurt Ashly, and I believe you. I think you¡¯re still in control, Sol¡ªmore than you give yourself credit for.¡± He took a step closer, his tone softening but his resolve clear. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about trust. It¡¯s about necessity. The crew needs you, and I¡¯m not about to let fear hold us back. Not when lives are at stake.¡± My breath caught in my throat, his words hitting harder than I expected. ¡°What if I hurt someone again?¡± I asked, my voice trembling. ¡°I still want answers about Lab 3.¡± Warren exhaled slowly, his expression softening, though his shoulders still bore the weight of his guilt. ¡°You won¡¯t,¡± he said firmly, his voice steady but heavy. ¡°Because I know you, Sol. You care more about saving those men than anyone else on this ship. Your father told me once how much grief you gave him about leaving Earth behind. That¡¯s why I¡¯m trusting you now.¡± His gaze hardened, though his tone remained resolute. ¡°When this mission is over, I¡¯ll tell you everything. Lab 3, the Guards, Knight¡ªall of it. But right now, none of that matters more than bringing our people home. Fixing this mess is my top priority. Fixing my mistake.¡± He stepped back, his voice regaining its commanding edge. ¡°I know you¡¯ll do the right thing, Sol. And in return, I¡¯ll do right by you. I¡¯ve already talked to Yates¡ªwe¡¯ll wake Knight and figure out how to handle Lab 3, maybe even find a cure for you. But right now, we¡¯re out of time.¡± I stared at him, my chest tight under the weight of his words and the pressure to live up to his faith. A part of me wanted to argue, to push back against the trust he¡¯d suddenly placed in me. After all, no one had ever handed me control¡ªnot Knight, not the Guards, not even my father. But deep down, I knew he was right. The mission couldn¡¯t wait, and neither could they. Finally, I nodded, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. ¡°Let¡¯s wake them.¡±
The door to the cryo bay slid open with a low hiss, releasing a chilled fog that curled along the floor. The room was cavernous, dimly lit, and filled with rows of reinforced cryo-pods. Each pod bore a unique engraving of an extinct animal, its design ornate and deliberate. These weren¡¯t the utilitarian pods used for the crew¡ªthese were thrones for gods. I stepped inside, my breath misting in the cold air. The whispers stirred immediately, curling through my thoughts like smoke. Do you remember, Sol? When I unleashed them upon our rivals? It was my masterpiece... and you, my greatest creation. My fingers trailed along the nearest pod¡ªLion¡¯s. The engraved head of a roaring lion gleamed faintly under the flickering lights, surrounded by intricate rays like a blazing sun. I swallowed hard, knowing what this meant, what I was about to do. Memories surged unbidden. The first time I saw the guards deployed, I¡¯d been just a child. My father¡¯s voice had been calm but firm as he explained the situation. A rebellion had risen in the Euro-African Federation, a coalition of desperate nations refusing to bow to the mega-corporations. The guards were sent in as a deterrent, but they didn¡¯t just stop the uprising¡ªthey erased it. I remembered watching the grainy footage on my father¡¯s private monitor: Lion, Wolf, and Eagle moved with brutal efficiency, their plasma blades carving through fortified bunkers as if they were paper. The rebellion¡¯s forces, over a hundred thousand strong, were obliterated in hours. My father had stood behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders. This is power, Sol. Controlled. Precise. Irrefutable proof of our family¡¯s greatness. All of Earth knelt. Now, so will the stars. My hand moved to Eagle¡¯s pod. Black, angular designs of razor-sharp feathers encased the cryo unit, the engraving of a bird mid-dive etched across its surface. The plasma wing-blades this soldier wielded had been my father¡¯s pride¡ªa fusion of agility and lethality. The second time, it wasn¡¯t a rebellion. It was a rival corporation, Ju Wang International, the last mega-corporation resisting Voss Enterprises. I¡¯d been older then, old enough to grasp the stakes. Ju Wang controlled Asia¡¯s resources, from its weaponry to its AI factories, and their assassins had come for Julian Voss. The counterattack was swift and brutal. All twenty guards were awakened. I could still picture their march into battle, their glowing visors cutting through the night like fireflies of death. They dismantled Ju Wang¡¯s armies with clinical precision, their plasma rifles and swords carving through millions of soldiers. Cities burned in their wake. The Jericho¡¯s prototype AI, still in development, had coordinated the strike, annihilating the corporation¡¯s infrastructure within days. By the end, Ju Wang wasn¡¯t just defeated¡ªit was erased. Voss Enterprises had absorbed what was left like a snake swallowing its prey. The whispers pushed again, soft and insistent. My masterpieces, Sol. Each one a testament to my brilliance. Yet none will ever surpass you. Show them what it means to hold true power. I brushed my hand against Wolf¡¯s pod. Its silver-gray casing shimmered like the pelt of its namesake, etched with jagged, fur-like lines. The face of the pod was adorned with the image of a wolf mid-leap, its jaws wide and teeth bared, captured in a moment of primal ferocity. The plasma daggers stored inside had once torn through the defenses of the South American Alliance, a coalition that had attempted to break free from corporate control. I hadn¡¯t been allowed to watch that campaign, but the stories had been whispered across the globe. A single soldier with cloaking technology had infiltrated the capital city¡ªa sprawling metropolis of millions¡ªduring a summit of hundreds of leaders from across South America. By dawn, they were all dead, assassinated with surgical precision, leaving the city in chaos and the rebellion leaderless. Now, as my gaze swept across the bay, I whispered their names like a prayer. Lion, Eagle, Wolf, Black Widow, Great White, Jaguar, Viper, Hyena, Grizzly, Owl, Falcon, Bull, Badger, Rhino, Cheetah, Fox, Scorpion, Crocodile, Mantis, Tiger. Each name carried weight, a legacy of destruction and obedience. I stepped back, taking in the sight of them all. Each pod was unique, bearing its animal engraving and gilded details. My father hadn¡¯t been a vain man, but he¡¯d understood the value of spectacle. The guards weren¡¯t just soldiers¡ªthey were symbols, reminders of a power no one could defy. Their armor had been designed to be striking, almost gaudy. Every detail spoke of dominance, from the clawed gauntlets of Grizzly to the sleek, predator-like sheen of Cheetah. ¡°These animals have been extinct in the wild for centuries,¡± I murmured, my hand trailing over Black Widow¡¯s pod, its sleek black surface engraved with a red hourglass like her armor. ¡°But here their legends endure.¡± My fingers lingered on the engraving, memories surfacing unbidden. I¡¯d met people once¡ªreal people, not the sterile, calculated figures of my father¡¯s lab. I was 18, just bold and foolish enough to sneak out and see the undercity for myself with my emergency clearance. The ones I met didn¡¯t know who I was, and for a while, neither did I. We shared stories, food, drinks, laughter... and more. It was the first time I¡¯d felt like a person and not some grand experiment. But it didn¡¯t last. It never could. I was still my father¡¯s daughter, and when two Royal Guards appeared to drag me back to the lab, the truth came crashing down. Their fear was the worst part¡ªfear of me, of what my family represented, of the unstoppable machines that had come for me. I never saw them again. Whether it was the guards or the weight of what I was that scattered them, I didn¡¯t know. Maybe I never wanted to. Earth was gone, and so were they. I was the only one left to command these ghosts of my father¡¯s vision. Warren stood beside me, silent but tense. ¡°Do you know what this means?¡± he asked, his voice breaking the cold silence. ¡°What it truly means to wake them?¡± I exhaled slowly, the whispers curling through my thoughts like tendrils of smoke. They will obey only you, Sol. No one else. You hold their leashes now. Command them, and they will bring the galaxy to its knees. ¡°I know what it means,¡± I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. My finger hovered over the control panel. For a brief moment, I hesitated. The power these soldiers wielded wasn¡¯t just destructive¡ªit was transformative. I¡¯d seen my father use them to control a dying Earth, to bend entire nations and mega-corporations to his will. He had declared himself humanity¡¯s king in all but name, and few had dared to challenge him. Those who did didn¡¯t live long enough to regret it. Now, the whispers spoke in his voice, insidious and full of promise. They are yours now, Sol. The stars, the remnants of humanity¡ªall of it is yours to inherit under your rule. They will kneel, not in fear, but in reverence. They will call you their queen, as they once called me their king. My chest tightened. The image of the galaxy bowing at my feet rose unbidden, and for a moment, I let myself feel the enormity of it. The whispers twisted around my thoughts, drawing them closer to the precipice. This is your destiny, Sol. Take it. Rule, as you were born to. The Guard is yours, the stars are yours, humanity itself waits for you to claim it. ¡°No,¡± I whispered, barely audible over the hiss of the cryo bay. The thought repulsed me. It wasn¡¯t my destiny. It wasn¡¯t who I wanted to be. I pressed my hands harder against the console, forcing my thoughts back to the task at hand. This isn¡¯t about me. It¡¯s about the crew. I¡¯ll save them¡ªnot claim them. My finger descended, activating the command sequence. The room shuddered as the pods hissed open in perfect unison. Cold mist poured out, swirling around the emerging figures like smoke heralding their arrival. One by one, the guards stepped forward, towering over me at nine feet tall¡ªalmost an entire person taller than my five-foot frame. Their gleaming armor reflected the sterile overhead lights, each plate and joint humming faintly with energy. Their shoulders were impossibly broad, the armor sculpted to enhance their massive frames, giving them an almost mythical presence. They moved with a fluid precision that belied their immense size, their presence filling the space with an oppressive weight. Even standing still, they radiated an aura of power, making me feel like little more than a shadow in their overwhelming presence. Lion was the first to speak. His voice was deep and resonant, laced with an unnatural calm. ¡°Your Highness,¡± he said, his massive form lowering to one knee before me, bringing him to eye level. His golden armor gleamed, every plate meticulously crafted, and the roaring lion insignia on his chest plate seemed to almost come alive under the flickering lights. He paused, his golden visor tilting upward as if studying me, the faint hum of his suit breaking the silence. ¡°Your hair¡­ your eyes¡­¡± His voice carried an almost reverent weight. ¡°So, he gave you the serum after all. Welcome to being post-human.¡± There was no malice in his tone, only an unsettling acceptance, as if he had known this day would come. ¡°We await your command.¡± Behind him, the others knelt in perfect synchronization, their voices a unified echo: ¡°Your Highness. Awaiting orders.¡± I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms as the hunger stirred deep in my chest. I¡¯d only seen them all awake once before¡ªwhen my father had commanded them. Back then, their power had terrified me. Now, that power was mine to wield. The whispers surged, louder now, almost gleeful. They are the sword I forged, my Princess, but you¡ªyou are the hand that wields it. Each of them is a testament to my vision, yet none hold the purpose you do. You are my knight, the one meant to bring my will to life. Take up the blade they represent and carve the path to what is already yours. I bit down hard on my tongue, the taste of blood grounding me. The hunger flared, sharp and insistent, as the whispers coiled tighter. Warren¡¯s gaze was heavy on me, his expression unreadable but firm. ¡°They¡¯re yours now,¡± he said, his voice low but steady. ¡°Let¡¯s bring our people home.¡± I swallowed hard, the whispers still lingering in the back of my mind like a shadow I couldn¡¯t quite shake. Straightening my shoulders, I let the weight of responsibility settle over me. The crew needed me. This wasn¡¯t about ruling. This was about saving lives. If I had to bear this power, I¡¯d use it for them¡ªnot for myself. ¡°Guards,¡± I commanded, my voice ringing out through the bay. ¡°Prepare for deployment. You¡¯re going to war.¡± The guards rose in unison, their armor gleaming under the sterile lights as they moved with terrifying grace. Each step was deliberate, their towering frames radiating unstoppable power. Along the back wall, their weapons awaited¡ªplasma rifles, railguns, and gravity hammers standing at attention like soldiers in their own right. As they moved to arm themselves, the arsenal came alive with the hum of energy. A crackling laser whip coiled in one hand, while another gripped a shotgun that seemed to promise devastation with every pull of the trigger. One reached for a massive blade that shimmered with a plasma edge, its glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Every weapon was impossibly large, perfectly attuned to the sheer strength of the giants wielding them. Watching them prepare, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of their presence¡ªthe quiet efficiency of soldiers who were more than human, each one a living embodiment of a god of war. Their armor wasn¡¯t just protection¡ªit was part of them now, fused to their bodies through years of cybernetic enhancement and genetic engineering. Towering over the rest of us at nearly nine feet tall, the Royal Guards were living giants, something more than human yet terrifyingly close. I remembered watching them in training as a child, their movements impossibly fluid for beings so massive. They were legends, not just because of their strength, but because of what had been done to them to make them that way. My father had called them perfection. "The pinnacle of evolution and engineering," he¡¯d once told me, his voice filled with pride. And standing in their presence, it was hard to argue. They had multiple hearts and redundant vital organs, their bodies a marvel of reinforced biology. Their bones were strengthened with alloys, their muscles enhanced to deliver unimaginable power while retaining a disturbingly human form. Even without their armor, they were walking tanks. And yet, the armor wasn¡¯t separate from them¡ªit was part of who they were now. Miniature hybrid reactors, combining both fission and fusion technology, were embedded into their backs, powering their every move. These reactors were more than just energy sources; they were lifelines, fueling not only their systems but also their augmented biology. Their personal shield generators hummed faintly, always active, ready to absorb the most devastating impacts. Even without the seemingly endless weapons mounted on the wall behind them, the Guards were living arsenals. Fusion gauntlets glowed with barely-contained energy, plasma blades extended seamlessly from hidden compartments, and wrist-mounted flamethrowers were primed to ignite at a moment¡¯s notice. Their jetpacks and rocket boots gave them flight, while experimental systems embedded within their frames hinted at capabilities only they¡ªand my father¡ªtruly understood. And then there were the nanobots in their blood. I shuddered just thinking about them. The bots were constantly at work, repairing damage, erasing toxins, and maintaining peak performance. It didn¡¯t matter if a Guard was burned, shot, or stabbed; within minutes, they¡¯d be whole again. It was terrifyingly efficient. The Guards could survive without food or water for years, their armor recycling everything to keep them alive indefinitely. When they did eat, anything organic would suffice¡ªplants, animals, even substances no human would dare touch. They were long-lived, too. I¡¯d once seen a decades-old photo of Lion, taken during the Guard¡¯s earliest campaigns. In the midst of war, his face had been sharp and weathered with experience. Yet when I saw him as a child years later, he looked younger¡ªstronger, as though time itself had surrendered to their design. I¡¯d heard whispers of their weapons being powered by antimatter¡ªunthinkable technology that my father had supposedly dabbled in during his more ambitious years. The schematics for such weapons were beyond even my clearance, locked away in the depths of Jericho¡¯s archives. No one dared confirm it, but the rumor persisted: the antimatter arsenal was a last resort, a power so dangerous it had been shelved after testing. If anyone had been audacious¡ªor insane¡ªenough to design something so destructive, it was Julian Voss. For all their enhancements, though, the Guards weren¡¯t immortal. My father had always been clear about that. They could die, though it wasn¡¯t easy. One name stood out in my mind: Bloodhound. He¡¯d been the first and only to fall, a casualty of the Ju Wang war that had brought all of Asia under my father¡¯s control. My father rarely spoke of him, but I¡¯d pieced together the story from the records I¡¯d stumbled upon. Bloodhound had been caught in the blast radius of a tactical nuke during the war¡¯s final days. His shields had been depleted during the assault, leaving him vulnerable for a brief but catastrophic moment. Even for someone like him, there was no surviving that kind of force without his shields. His death had been a rare and devastating loss, one that had exposed a critical flaw in the Guards¡¯ power systems. My father, of course, had learned from it. He¡¯d added a redundancy to their reactors, incorporating fission-based uranium power cells that could kick in during emergencies. These cells ensured that shields could be recharged on the fly, buying enough time for the fusion cores to reignite. It was an ingenious fix, though it had come too late for Bloodhound. Looking at them now, I felt a cold knot of unease tighten in my chest. They were my father¡¯s greatest creations, his ultimate soldiers. But they weren¡¯t just his legacy¡ªthey were mine now. They answered only to me, and as I stood there, I couldn¡¯t shake the weight of that responsibility. Dad, you did so much to advance humanity already... why did you have to do this to them? Hell, why did you have to do this to me, your own daughter? My gaze lingered on the details my father had obsessed over. Each suit was a masterpiece, adorned with the emblem of its namesake¡ªa testament to the extinct animals they honored. The etched designs and gilded edges were like trophies, tributes to a world long gone. My fingers grazed the surface of Lion¡¯s pod, the memory of my father standing beside me in the lab flickering into focus. His voice had been calm, steady back then, a comforting anchor in the chaos of the world he claimed to be saving. The whispers crept in again like smoke curling through a cracked door. I did it for you, Sol, as I left them for you. Do you see it now? They are yours, as is the gift of your changes. The galaxy has never known their equal... until you. But soon, if you follow the hunger, the universe will know something even greater¡ªfor once. But his voice wasn¡¯t comforting anymore. It was a phantom clawing at the edges of my mind, a twisted echo of what it once was. Whether he¡¯d always been corrupted or the whispers had warped him into this insidious presence, I didn¡¯t know. All I knew was that it was the last thing I wanted to hear. My fists tightened at my sides, nails digging into my palms drawing blood. ¡°So I¡¯m just fucking crazy, is that it, Dad? Like father, like daughter?¡± The words came out harsh, almost a growl. For a moment, silence stretched around me, heavy and suffocating. Then, the whispers laughed¡ªa sound like dry leaves crackling in the wind, soft but mocking. My jaw tightened, and I flicked my tongue across my teeth, sharp enough to slice into the soft flesh. Blood pooled in my mouth, warm and metallic, as the cut sealed itself shut almost instantly. The hunger stirred, deep and insistent, a hollow ache that clawed at my insides. I swallowed hard, forcing it back down, but the thought slithered through my mind like a serpent: If any monster should lead them, it should be me. I straightened, my gaze fixed on the towering figures as they moved with relentless precision toward the shuttle bay. Each step was deliberate, calculated¡ªa terrifying display of power harnessed to perfection. These weren¡¯t just soldiers; they were monsters, creatures forged for destruction. And now, they answered only to me. But I wouldn¡¯t be like my father. The determination settled in my chest like iron, heavy but unyielding. If I have to play the role of the monster you left me, so be it, I thought, my mind resolute. But I will be better than you. I care if they live¡ªeven Garin... but especially Reid. I¡¯ll save them because someone has to, and I¡¯ll bear the cost if I must. I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I followed the Guards toward the shuttle bay. The hunger and the whispers would wait. The crew needed me, and I¡¯d do whatever it took to bring them home. Even if it meant becoming the very thing I feared. Chapter 10 : The Royal Guard The plasma pistol felt cold and heavy in my grip, its polished surface catching the dim lights of the cargo bay. I turned it over in my hands, trying to steady the growing tension in my chest. The pistol felt out of place. Fragile, even. Especially compared to the towering forms of the Guards around me. ¡°You won¡¯t need that, Highness,¡± Lion said, his deep voice calm and measured. He stood near the ramp, his immense frame silhouetted against the pale glow of the Hemlock¡¯s hangar bay visible through the viewport. His gravity hammer rested casually against one shoulder, the massive weapon humming faintly with contained energy. ¡°Nothing here can touch you.¡± I shot him a sideways glance, gripping the pistol tighter. ¡°And if it does?¡± Lion tilted his helmet slightly, the golden visor glinting in the low light. ¡°Then it will regret it.¡± The comment didn¡¯t help the knot in my stomach. Around him, the Guards moved with unnerving precision, each one a towering colossus of gleaming armor and silent power. The fusion cores embedded in their suits hummed faintly, their light-weight alloys betraying none of the immense weight they carried. Over a ton each, they were walking fortresses. Even the deck trembled beneath their boots, their gravity systems compensating just enough to make movement fluid. When needed, they could hit speeds of over a hundred miles per hour in short bursts, their jetpacks and thrusters giving them terrifying mobility.
The Hemlock loomed ahead, its battered hull visible through the viewport. The massive derelict ship, a century old, hung in the void like a wounded beast. Scorched plasma burns scarred its surface, and entire sections of its engines had been torn apart by what looked like precision strikes. ¡°It wasn¡¯t humanity,¡± Rhino muttered as he stared at the damage. His voice, distorted by the modulator in his helmet, carried an edge of unease. ¡°Not a hundred years ago. We didn¡¯t have anything that could do this back then.¡± I glanced at him, unease coiling tighter in my chest. Rhino wasn¡¯t the kind to speculate¡ªhe left theories to the scientists. If he was commenting, it was because the implications couldn¡¯t be ignored. ¡°The shuttle looks intact,¡± Grizzly added, gesturing to the smaller craft nestled in the Hemlock¡¯s hangar. Its hull was scuffed but unmarked by the kind of violence that had ravaged the larger ship. ¡°From the footage, it looks like they didn¡¯t make contact for quite a while... it¡¯s quiet on scanners too. We need to push deeper.¡±
Lion nodded, the faint hum of his gravity hammer filling the silence as he hefted it onto his shoulder. ¡°Whatever genetic horrors we encounter here,¡± he said, his tone steady and resolute, ¡°our mission remains clear: recover the Jericho¡¯s crew. Following signs of an attack, our orders now include investigating any anomalies¡ªhuman or otherwise¡ªthat might explain what happened to this ship.¡± The Guards¡¯ shields powered up with a deep hum, their shimmering energy fields flaring to life. The sound of jets warming on their boots and packs sent a shiver through me. They looked more like gods of war than people, their faceless helmets and towering frames sealing me off from whatever lay inside those suits. Hyena¡¯s voice crackled over the comms, cutting through the tension like a jagged knife. ¡°Genetic horrors? Sounds like my ex. Bet she¡¯s still out here, ugly and starving, waiting to claw my armor off.¡± He laughed darkly. ¡°Should¡¯ve left a tip.¡± A sharp hiss of static followed Eagle¡¯s immediate retort. ¡°Do us a favor, Hyena, and keep your love life¡ªor whatever that is¡ªoff comms.¡± Hyena scoffed, his tone dripping with mock indignation. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m just saying. We¡¯ve been in cryo too long. A little slaughter and some fresh air? Hell, this might be better than my last shore leave.¡± Lion cut in sharply, his voice brooking no argument. ¡°Enough.¡± His tone carried the weight of command, snapping the Guards back to focus. ¡°Chatter off. We move with purpose. Jaguar, Badger¡ªstay with the ship. Monitor comms and maintain a secure perimeter.¡± Badger muttered something under his breath¡ªbarely audible but unmistakably bitter about being left behind. The others fell silent, leaving only the low hum of their shields and jets. I forced my feet to move, staying close as the Guards descended the ramp with unnerving precision. Their helmets didn¡¯t turn, their attention locked on the yawning hangar beyond. I couldn¡¯t see their faces, only the cold efficiency of their movements. Whatever waited ahead, they didn¡¯t just expect it¡ªthey welcomed it. The whispers stirred in my mind, soft and insistent. They are the sword, Sol. You are the hand. Wield them. I swallowed hard, the weight of their presence pressing in on me. Whatever Lion meant by "genetic horrors," I was about to find out. Lion raised a hand, signaling the advance. The Guards moved forward in perfect synchronization, their steps heavy but deliberate. The weight of their presence felt like a shield in itself, but it wasn¡¯t enough to quiet the unease gnawing at me. I kept close, my grip on the pistol tightening. We passed the shuttle, its ramp open like a mouth frozen mid-scream. Inside, supplies were strewn haphazardly, but there were no signs of violence¡ªno blood, no bodies¡ªjust eerie, unsettling quiet. The crew hadn¡¯t abandoned the shuttle by choice; their last transmission confirmed they¡¯d ventured deep into the Hemlock and never made it back. Their final, fragmented signal placed them barricaded in a corridor near the reactor core, desperate and under siege. Whatever kept them from returning to safety had been waiting farther inside, and it hadn¡¯t left them alone. ¡°Movement ahead,¡± Eagle reported, her voice low but steady. ¡°Stay sharp.¡± The corridor yawned open before us, a dark tunnel leading into the bowels of the ship. The dim lights overhead flickered erratically, plunging the passage into alternating stretches of shadow and sickly yellow light. The air was damp and stifling, carrying the coppery tang of blood and the rancid stench of decay. The Guards moved without hesitation, their formation tight and deliberate. Lion led the way, his massive frame a wall of unyielding power, gravity hammer poised and ready. The others fanned out behind him, their steps eerily synchronized, each movement calculated. Their weapons hummed with barely-contained energy, their towering shadows flickering across the walls. I followed in their wake, gripping the plasma pistol tightly, its weight both a comfort and a reminder of how small I was compared to them. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to leave this nightmare behind. But turning back wasn¡¯t an option. Reid, Jimmy, Holt, and Garin were still out there, and whatever waited in the dark, I¡¯d face it if it meant bringing them home. The first screech tore through the air, raw and primal, echoing down the corridor like nails scraping across glass. My stomach twisted, a cold spike of fear radiating through my chest as the sound clawed at my nerves. Shadows rippled ahead, and then they came. A chaotic mass of grotesque, malformed creatures surged toward us, their jerky movements amplifying the wrongness of their existence. They were nightmares given flesh¡ªgnarled, elongated limbs ending in jagged claws that clicked against the floor, skin mottled with lesions and patches of exposed muscle glistening under the flickering lights. Their too-wide mouths gaped impossibly, rows of uneven, blackened teeth jutting from gums that bled as they snarled. Empty, milky eyes fixed on us with a hunger that mirrored the pit in my own stomach. I felt it then¡ªthe hunger rising in me like a tidal wave. My knees buckled slightly, my grip on the pistol tightening to steady myself as my breathing hitched. The scent of rot and bile should have made me gag, but instead, it clawed at something deeper, something primal. The whispers stirred in my mind, soft and insidious. Feed yourself, Sol. Take them in. Their strength, their DNA¡ªit¡¯s yours to claim. The Guards moved without hesitation, their towering frames a stark contrast to the chaos rushing toward them. Each soldier¡¯s movements were as precise as they were devastating, their synergy weaving a seamless wave of destruction. Lion stepped forward first, his gravity hammer held high, the weapon thrumming with raw power. With a single, devastating swing, he brought it crashing down onto the ground. The impact sent a seismic shockwave rippling through the corridor, splitting the floor and pulverizing the first wave of mutants. Flesh and bone exploded outward, coating the walls in gore, the dismembered remains raining down in a gruesome spray. On his flank, Rhino roared as he charged, his massive shield meeting the swarm like an unyielding wall. Genetic horrors crashed against its shimmering energy field, claws and teeth useless against the unrelenting force. With a powerful thrust, Rhino drove the shield forward, pinning three of the creatures between its reinforced surface and the wall. The sickening crunch of bone and flesh collapsing under the immense pressure echoed through the corridor, and when he pulled back, the only thing left was paste smeared across the wall. From the shadows, Wolf disappeared, his cloaking flickering as he vanished into the fray. Moments later, mutants fell mid-lunge, their throats slashed and spines severed in silent, surgical strikes. Blood sprayed in arcs, painting the walls and floor, as Wolf moved like a phantom, his plasma daggers flashing before fading back into the darkness. Grizzly, Mantis, and Bull advanced in brutal harmony, their contrasting styles blending into an unstoppable wave of destruction. Grizzly laughed as his clawed gauntlets ripped through the swarm with savage efficiency, catching one mutant mid-leap and slamming it to the ground before stomping its head into pulp. Beside him, Bull charged forward, his plasma lance blazing with energy, skewering mutants in devastating arcs. He thrust the lance into a larger creature¡¯s chest, the crackling plasma tearing through flesh and bone before he flung the lifeless body aside. Mantis, moving with eerie precision, carved through the chaos with her plasma scythes. She swept low, severing a mutant¡¯s legs before spinning gracefully to impale another through the chest, pinning it to the floor. When a mutant lunged toward Bull¡¯s exposed flank, Mantis intercepted it, her scythe slicing cleanly through its torso in one fluid motion. Together, the trio moved as one, their seamless coordination leaving nothing but bloodied corpses and smoldering remains in their wake. Above them, Eagle¡¯s jetpack roared, lifting her high into the corridor. Her plasma rifle fired in rapid bursts, each shot obliterating heads and torsos in smoldering explosions. A mutant leapt at her from the wall, but she twisted mid-air, her thrusters flaring as she dodged. A sharp pivot and a plasma bolt disintegrated its face mid-flight, sending the twitching body tumbling into the chaos below. Beside her, Owl hovered with calculated stillness, her modified sniper rifle picking off targets with devastating precision. Plasma rounds punched clean through multiple mutants in a single shot, their bodies collapsing in charred heaps. When another scaled the wall toward her, she switched to her wrist-mounted shotgun, obliterating it in a point-blank blast before resuming her deadly precision from above. At the rear, Viper and Black Widow moved like dancers of death, their synergy flawless. Viper¡¯s venom-coated blade slashed through mutants, leaving convulsing bodies crumpled in her wake. A mutant lunged at her, but she sidestepped with uncanny speed, driving her blade deep into its chest. Its flesh bubbled and dissolved as it collapsed in a steaming heap. Black Widow followed close behind, her energy nets crackling with deadly purpose. She hurled one into a cluster of mutants, the sharp hum of electricity filling the air as the net constricted, tearing bodies apart in a gruesome cascade of gore. Together, they ensured nothing survived their path. Falcon flanked them, dual-wielding plasma pistols with unrelenting precision. Each shot was a perfect execution, skulls and torsos bursting in sharp cracks of energy. When a mutant came too close, he flipped one of his pistols, driving the barrel into its eye socket and firing point-blank, the head exploding in a spray of blood and bone. He spun, dropping two more mutants in seamless follow-up shots. The Guards worked in devastating unison, their combined assault tearing through the swarm like a hurricane through a forest. Lion remained at the center, his hammer a glowing beacon of destruction. With another wide arc, he obliterated an advancing wave of mutants, the energy field disintegrating anything in its path. A larger mutant¡ªits bloated torso pulsating with sores¡ªcharged forward with a guttural roar. Lion met it mid-charge, driving his hammer into its chest with a force that made the corridor tremble. The creature imploded in a burst of viscera, its remains collapsing into the carnage below. By the time the last mutant fell, the corridor was unrecognizable. The walls and floor were slick with blood, bits of flesh and bone scattered like debris. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of death, broken only by the faint hum of the Guards¡¯ energy shields as they surveyed the aftermath. Their precision and brutality left nothing standing, a testament to the monstrous force they embodied. Lion turned to me, his golden visor catching the dim light. His voice was calm, almost casual, as he addressed me. ¡°Area clear, Highness.¡± I nodded, my throat dry, my grip on the pistol trembling. ¡°That¡¯s one way to describe it,¡± I muttered, my voice barely audible. For a fleeting moment, I thought of the yellow-eyed monster. The creature that haunted my nightmares, that filled me with terror. Compared to this¡ªcompared to them¡ªit seemed small. Insignificant. It would never have stood a chance. Not against them. And yet, the thought didn¡¯t bring relief. If the monster was less terrifying than the Guards, what did that make me, standing here amidst the carnage, trembling under their protection? The Guards didn¡¯t acknowledge the horror they¡¯d just unleashed. To them, this wasn¡¯t brutality¡ªit was precision. Efficiency. They were humanity¡¯s gods of war, and this was what they were made for. The whispers stirred in the back of my mind, soft and coaxing. They are unstoppable. They are yours. And so is the galaxy. I clenched my jaw, forcing the thought away. This wasn¡¯t over. There were more horrors waiting ahead. Somewhere out there, the crew we¡¯d come to save was counting on us. All I could do was look on in awe, any hope I had of stealing higher-level clearance slipping through my fingers. It wasn¡¯t going to happen without them allowing it¡ªbut right now, the mission came first, captain credentials second. The Guards advanced, their footsteps heavy and unyielding. I followed, the echoes of carnage still ringing in my ears. Rhino didn¡¯t even pause as we reached the next obstacle¡ªa massive reinforced door blocking the corridor ahead. It loomed in front of us like an impenetrable wall, its metal surface scuffed and pitted from decades of neglect. The controls were dead, the faint smell of burnt circuits lingering in the cold, stale air. ¡°Sealed tight,¡± Eagle muttered, her voice crackling through the comms. ¡°No power to the hydraulics. We¡¯ll have to go around.¡± Rhino let out a low grunt, stepping forward without hesitation. ¡°Around¡¯s too slow.¡± He planted his shield firmly on the ground, the impact reverberating through the floor, and reached out with his free hand. His gauntlet gripped the edge of the door, fingers digging into the thick metal like it was nothing more than pliable clay. I could hear the groaning protest of the steel as he tightened his hold. With a single heave, Rhino wrenched the door from its frame, the reinforced hinges snapping under the sheer force of his pull. Sparks rained down as the massive slab of metal gave way, the sound of tearing steel echoing through the corridor. He held the door aloft for a moment, his immense frame steady under its weight, then tossed it aside with a deafening crash. The slab skidded across the floor, colliding with the wall and leaving a deep dent in the paneling. The sight made my stomach turn, not from fear, but from the realization of just how much raw power these Guards possessed. Rhino¡¯s breathing didn¡¯t even hitch, his focus already shifting back to the corridor ahead. He retrieved his shield with the same ease, snapping it back into place with a low hum. ¡°Clear,¡± he said simply, stepping aside to let Lion lead the way. The space beyond the door stretched into another corridor, this one narrower and lined with exposed conduits. The air was heavier here, the temperature dropping noticeably. The faint sound of dripping liquid reached my ears, mingling with the low hum of the Guards¡¯ suits. Lion¡¯s visor tilted toward Rhino, his voice carrying quiet approval. ¡°Good work.¡± Rhino only grunted, his shield raised and ready as he fell back into formation. The whispers stirred again, a serpentine purr that curled through my thoughts. You see it, don¡¯t you, Sol? This is what strength looks like. Yours for the taking. I pushed the voice away, focusing on the shadows ahead. We had a crew to save. There was no room for hesitation¡ªnot with what lay deeper in the Hemlock. The corridor stretched endlessly, each step taking us deeper into the Hemlock¡¯s oppressive gloom. The air grew colder, heavier with every passing moment, carrying with it the faint tang of blood and decay. Somewhere ahead lay the last location Garin had transmitted, a signal so faint it was nearly drowned out by the static of the dying ship. Lion stayed near me, his gravity hammer resting casually on his shoulder, its immense weight seemingly effortless in his grip. He gestured forward, his commanding tone calm but firm. ¡°Advance,¡± he said, letting the others take the lead. The Guards shifted into a loose formation, their shimmering plasma shields rippling faintly as they moved. Each barrier distorted the air with a subtle, almost imperceptible glow, crackling faintly whenever debris brushed against it. These shields were their constant defense¡ªimpervious to claw, tooth, or blade. Even the sharpest talons of the creatures couldn¡¯t pierce the Guards¡¯ barriers. Lion glanced back at me briefly, his golden visor catching the dim light. ¡°Stay close,¡± he said, his voice steady as he turned his focus back to the corridor. With him by my side, the others pressed forward into the darkness, their weapons at the ready. The corridor narrowed as we advanced, the walls closing in until the Guards¡¯ towering frames almost brushed the sides. The exposed conduits snaked across the ceiling like veins, dripping with condensation. Sparks flared occasionally from damaged panels, briefly illuminating the jagged edges of the space ahead. The stench hit us like a physical force as we rounded a corner, an oppressive wave of decay so thick it clawed at my throat. The dim light revealed a grotesque tableau. Blood splattered the walls in dark, streaky smears, and scattered debris littered the floor. Crude barricades¡ªoverturned crates and hastily placed panels¡ªhad been shoved aside, leaving a gaping hole into a larger chamber. The source of the stench was unmistakable now, a mix of rot and bile so potent it felt like it clung to my skin. My breath caught as the larger space came into view. Cracked cryo pods were scattered across the room, some still flickering faintly with power. Others had succumbed entirely to whatever corruption had spread here. Thick, pulsating growths covered the pods, stretching from the walls and ceiling like organic tendrils. The growths shifted unnaturally, writhing as though alive¡ªor as though something alive was moving within them. Yellowish pustules oozed a viscous, glowing liquid, dripping into pools that hissed and bubbled against the floor. The air was thick with the stench of decay and something else, something primal and wrong. It was a grotesque parody of life, twisting the once-sterile chamber into something nightmarish. This wasn¡¯t just where they bred¡ªthis was where they were born. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Jimmy¡¯s leg,¡± Crocodile muttered grimly, his tone unusually subdued as he gestured to the corner of the room. A severed limb, pale and bloodless, lay discarded amidst the growths. The jagged tear where it had been ripped free was still visible, but something else made my stomach churn. It wasn¡¯t just discarded¡ªit had been gnawed. Deep, uneven bite marks marred the flesh, the muscle tissue stripped in places with savage precision. The sight confirmed what I didn¡¯t want to admit: they had been eating it. ¡°This is where they first made contact,¡± Lion said, his voice calm but edged with something colder. His visor swept the room, taking in every detail. ¡°The crew held here for a time before retreating.¡± ¡°Or they didn¡¯t make it far,¡± Fox added grimly over the comms. ¡°Dragged away, piece by piece.¡± ¡°Not all of them,¡± Rhino rumbled, his tone quiet but firm. ¡°They¡¯re barricaded nearby. The signal¡¯s strong from the next sector.¡± I swallowed hard, my gaze fixed on the gruesome scene. The remnants of the struggle were unmistakable¡ªshredded clothing, a discarded weapon slick with blood, and those terrible smears along the walls. But if the crew had fled, this was the point where everything had fallen apart. The faint scratching sound from earlier returned, now amplified into a chorus. It was coming from every direction¡ªabove, below, and behind. Clanging metal and guttural hisses joined the cacophony, filling the space with an ominous warning. Shadows rippled across the walls as movement stirred in the dark beyond the cryo chamber. Lion¡¯s voice cut through the tension, steady and commanding. ¡°Shields up. Form a perimeter.¡± It was as if we had walked straight into their breeding grounds. We had kicked the nest¡ªand now they came again. From the ceiling vents, emergency tunnels, and ruptured panels, the mutants poured into the corridor like a living flood. Metal screeched as claws tore through it, and the snarling creatures spilled forward in a cacophony of shrieks and guttural howls. Their grotesque forms twisted unnaturally, muscles rippling beneath mottled skin, and jagged teeth gleamed as they snapped at the air. But this time, it wasn¡¯t just a few¡ªthey came in a massive swarm, far more than before. The sheer number of them was overwhelming, a seething tide of horrors that poured into the chamber like water breaching a dam. Shadows moved in chaotic waves as the mutants clawed over one another, their hunger driving them forward in frenzied desperation. The walls trembled under their weight, the noise of their approach a deafening roar that reverberated through the ship. There were too many. Far too many. It was as if we had stumbled into the heart of their hive, and they were determined to protect it. The Guards moved as one, their shields flaring as the first wave of mutants struck. Claws and teeth snapped uselessly against the plasma barriers, and the creatures recoiled with enraged hisses. Rhino surged forward, his massive shield absorbing the brunt of the attack. The hiss of his flamethrower lit the corridor, bathing the creatures in searing fire. Their shrieks filled the air as their flesh bubbled and blackened, the acrid stench of burning meat making my stomach churn. Crocodile was a blur beside him, his hybrid sword-gun carving through the swarm. The serrated blade cleaved torsos in savage arcs, while plasma bursts melted the mutants into molten heaps. Rhino held the line, his shield unyielding as waves of creatures crashed against it. When a bloated mutant lunged, its claws aimed for his face, he caught it mid-air and slammed it to the floor with a bone-shattering crunch. Crocodile finished it off in one brutal motion, his blade slicing clean through. Behind them, Great White¡¯s heavy plasma repeater roared, lighting up the darkness with molten streaks of death. When a cluster of mutants tried to flank him, his wrist-mounted flamethrower ignited with a sharp hiss, engulfing them in a wave of fire. ¡°Hold the line!¡± he bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. Each step he took left charred remains in his wake, the flames licking at the edges of my vision. Tiger was beside him, his heavy plasma machine gun unleashing a relentless barrage that tore through the horde. Each thunderous burst left gaping craters in flesh and bone. When a larger mutant charged from the shadows, Tiger switched seamlessly to his rail gun. The weapon fired with a deafening crack, the slug punching through its target and tearing into the creatures behind it in a spray of gore. His movements were precise, each shot calculated, cutting through the chaos with terrifying efficiency. Hyena¡¯s laughter echoed over the comms, wild and unrestrained, as his shotgun barked in rapid succession. Each blast shredded mutants into pulpy masses, their remains scattering across the blood-slicked floor. When another cluster of creatures surged toward him, Hyena yanked a frag grenade from his belt, a wicked grin audible in his voice. ¡°Catch this, ugly!¡± he shouted, tossing the grenade into their midst. The detonation was deafening, a concussive blast that sent limbs and viscera flying in every direction. Shredded mutants collapsed into steaming heaps, their twisted remains adding to the growing piles of destruction. Hyena¡¯s laughter grew louder, a chilling accompaniment to the relentless carnage. The corridor shook under the weight of their assault, the air thick with the stench of burning flesh and blood. I forced my feet to keep moving, staying close to Rhino¡¯s shield. My pistol felt like a toy compared to the devastation unfolding around me. The whispers in my mind stirred faintly, urging me to act, but what could I do here? This was their world, not mine. I clung to the hum of their shields, the only thing between me and the nightmare clawing at the edges of my vision. Fox and Viper moved ahead of me, cutting down mutants with chilling precision. Fox¡¯s plasma daggers were deadly blurs, slicing through spines and throats in swift, silent arcs. Beside her, Viper¡¯s venom-coated blade left convulsing bodies in her wake, their flesh bubbling grotesquely as the toxin spread. When a mutant leapt from above, its claws reaching for Fox, Viper flicked venom into its eyes. The creature shrieked, blinded, before Fox severed its head with a clean strike. Blood sprayed across the walls, a dark streak glistening under the flickering lights. Everywhere I turned, there was fire, plasma, and blood. The Guards didn¡¯t just fight¡ªthey obliterated. They moved like an unstoppable machine, a wall of steel and death, cutting through the swarm with terrifying precision. Severed limbs slid across the floor, leaving dark, glistening trails in their wake, while the acrid stench of blood and burnt flesh clawed at my throat, making it harder to breathe. The whispers pressed harder now, taunting. Look at them. Look at what they are. And look at what you are not. I tightened my grip on the pistol, its weight a cruel reminder of my insignificance in this storm of destruction. These monsters weren¡¯t just the mutants. The Guards were monsters too¡ªhumanity¡¯s own creation, crushing everything in their path with cold efficiency. They left nothing behind but ruin. And me? I was just trying to survive in their wake. The whispers purred in the back of my mind, their tone exultant. They are unstoppable. They are yours. This is your power. The Guards fought as one, their movements a symphony of precision and brutality. Plasma shields shimmered, weapons roared, and the air grew thick with the stench of scorched flesh and the sound of screeching mutants torn apart. The Guards were everything I wasn¡¯t: coordinated, lethal, unyielding.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I stayed close, the pistol a feeble comfort in my hands. The mutants kept coming, their grotesque forms crashing against the shimmering barriers of the Guards¡¯ shields, which deflected claws and teeth with ease. Nothing was supposed to get through. That¡¯s what I was told. That¡¯s what I wanted to believe. But then one did. It slipped through a gap in their formation, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its claws scraped the floor as it lunged straight for me. The Guards didn¡¯t react. They couldn¡¯t have missed it¡ªit was impossible to believe something could get past them. And yet, it was there, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Lion turned slightly, his golden visor catching the dim light. He saw it. I was sure of that. But he didn¡¯t move. His hammer rested on his shoulder, still and unmoving. He was letting it happen. Why isn¡¯t he stopping it? The mutant was close now, its gaping jaws snapping open to reveal rows of jagged, broken teeth. My stomach twisted, and my body froze. The whispers stirred, soft and insistent. You don¡¯t need them. You never did. You can stop this yourself. I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything, but I couldn¡¯t move. The weight of their words¡ªNothing will get through¡ªsat heavy in my chest. The mutant lunged, claws raised, and all I could do was brace for the impact. It hit me like a battering ram, knocking the pistol from my grip and slamming me to the floor. Pain shot through my side as its claws tore into my suit, shredding fabric and slicing into flesh. Its breath was hot and rancid, its teeth snapping so close to my face that I felt the wind of each bite. The sharp scent of blood filled the air, and my head spun. The whispers pressed tighter around my thoughts, their tone dark and taunting. They won¡¯t save you. You don¡¯t need them to. Show them what you really are. I twisted beneath the mutant¡¯s weight, desperate to throw it off, but its claws dug deeper, pinning me to the ground. My ribs screamed in protest, every breath a struggle. The Guards didn¡¯t move. Lion didn¡¯t move. Why isn¡¯t anyone helping me? Why is he just watching? My fingers clawed at the floor, searching for something¡ªanything. Blood pooled under my pressure suit, warm and sticky. The whispers grew louder, almost roaring now. You¡¯re not fragile. You¡¯re stronger than this. Stop pretending. The mutant¡¯s claws came down again, raking across my shoulder with searing pain. My vision blurred, red creeping into the edges as something inside me snapped. A heat surged through my chest, bright and blinding, and the whispers changed. No longer taunting, they urged me forward. Show them. Let it out. My hands shot up instinctively, and pain exploded in my fingers as claws erupted from them with a sickening crack. The mutant hissed, jerking back as I slashed at its face, carving deep furrows into its skin. Blood sprayed across my chest, warm and metallic. My breath hitched, but I couldn¡¯t stop. Instinct had taken over. The mutant lunged again, its jagged teeth sinking into my throat. Pain flared, white-hot and blinding. I choked on my own blood as it poured down my chest, but the wound sealed itself almost as quickly as it was made. My flesh knitted together in a gruesome display of rapid regeneration, the heat in my chest burning hotter. Take it, Sol, the whispers urged. It¡¯s yours to claim. I let out a guttural snarl, my claws tearing into its torso. I drove them deeper, ripping upward with a wet, sickening sound. Blood and viscera sprayed across my face, but I didn¡¯t care. My jaw ached as my teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs. Before I could stop myself, they sank into the creature¡¯s neck, tearing through sinew and cartilage. Blood spurted in hot, rhythmic bursts, and the taste sent a shiver down my spine. It was vile, and yet I couldn¡¯t stop. With every gulp, my strength returned. My wounds closed faster than they were made, the gashes sealing seamlessly as my body fed on the creature. The whispers roared in approval. Yes, Sol. This is your power. Feed and rise. The mutant writhed beneath me, its thrashing growing weaker as I tore it apart, limb by limb. My claws raked through its chest, exposing pulsing organs that I ripped into with a savage fury. My fangs shredded muscle and bone as the hunger clawed at my mind, insatiable and wild. The creature¡¯s struggles slowed, then stopped altogether. Its body was nothing more than a mangled husk, its blood pooling beneath me. My claws retracted with a soft crack, my fangs shrinking back into ¡°normal¡± teeth. The heat in my chest faded, leaving behind an unbearable clarity. I staggered to my feet, blood dripping from my chin, from my hands, from everywhere. My stomach churned, and bile rose in my throat. I dropped to my knees, retching as my body rejected what little it hadn¡¯t already burned to heal itself. Blood and half-digested flesh spilled onto the floor, the stench overwhelming. I wiped my mouth with a trembling hand, staring at the carnage around me. The taste of blood lingered on my tongue, metallic and wrong. I looked down at my hands, slick with gore, and my chest heaved. This wasn¡¯t human. The Guards stood silently, their plasma shields shimmering faintly as they continued to hold the line. None of them moved to help. None of them reacted. They had let it happen. Lion stepped forward, his massive frame towering over me. His golden visor tilted down, his voice calm and cold. ¡°Well done, Highness.¡± I glared up at him, my body shaking with anger and horror. ¡°You knew this would happen. You let it happen.¡± Lion¡¯s voice didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Jericho knew. Your evolution needs to continue. We will not stand in the way.¡± ¡°Evolution?¡± My voice cracked, hoarse with fury. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°It¡¯s yours to find,¡± he said simply. ¡°Not mine to tell.¡± The whispers in my mind coiled tighter, triumphant and smug. You feel it, don¡¯t you? This is just the beginning. I stared at my bloodied hands, my breath unsteady. The hunger was gone, but its memory lingered, dark and clawing at the edges of my mind. Whatever I had become, whatever I was turning into, it wasn¡¯t over. It had only just begun. The corridor ahead was silent, save for the faint crackling of damaged power lines and the steady hum of the Guards'' shields. Blood and gore painted the walls, a testament to the carnage left behind. My breathing steadied, the whispers in my mind fading to a low murmur as we advanced deeper into the Hemlock. ¡°Signal¡¯s strongest here,¡± Eagle reported, her tone clipped but steady. ¡°Just through that hatch.¡± The Guards moved as one, their steps reverberating in the enclosed space. Lion raised a hand, signaling a halt. His visor tilted toward Rhino, who stepped forward, shield raised. With a grunt, Rhino drove his shield into the bulkhead, forcing it open with a groan of tortured metal. The stench of blood and decay hit me like a wall. My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to follow as Lion stepped through the breach, his gravity hammer held at the ready. Inside, the room was chaos. Emergency lights flickered weakly, casting the space in alternating shadows and sickly red hues. Wires dangled from the ceiling, and debris littered the floor. In the center of it all, huddled together and barely conscious, was the missing team. ¡°Found them,¡± Lion said, his voice steady but edged with relief. He gestured to the Guards, who spread out to secure the room. Garin was the first to stir, his one good eye snapping open as we approached. His face was a mask of blood and grime, but the glare he shot me wasn¡¯t filled with the usual venom. Instead, there was something else¡ªhope, desperate and raw. He pushed himself up on one elbow, wincing as he moved. ¡°You actually came,¡± he rasped, his voice cracking. ¡°Guess miracles do happen.¡± Reid, lying a few feet away, let out a weak chuckle that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. His face was pale and drenched in sweat, his green eyes unshielded without his usual sunglasses. His left arm was gone, the stump hastily wrapped in what used to be his signature Hawaiian shirt, now soaked in blood and dyed deep crimson. ¡°I told you she¡¯d bring them,¡± he said, his voice weak but laced with faint satisfaction. He tilted his head toward Garin, managing a strained grin. ¡°You doubted me, Cyclops.¡± Garin¡¯s expression tightened, but he didn¡¯t rise to the bait. Instead, he glanced at the towering Guards. ¡°Everyone¡¯s seen the vids,¡± he muttered, almost to himself. ¡°They crushed entire armies back on Earth. But up close¡­¡± ¡°They don¡¯t need your commentary. Their ego is big enough,¡± Viper cut in, her tone sharp as she crouched beside Garin. She injected a stim into his arm with practiced efficiency, her movements swift and precise. Garin hissed softly, his body jolting as the serum took effect, but he didn¡¯t complain. Without pausing, she turned to Reid, carefully pressing the injector against the exposed flesh of his stump. He flinched as the stim coursed through him, clenching his jaw to suppress a groan. ¡°Guess you¡¯re saving the best for last,¡± he muttered, his voice strained but still managing a flicker of humor. ¡°Stay conscious, and I¡¯ll consider it a favor,¡± Viper replied flatly, her focus unwavering as she stood and moved toward Jimmy. Jimmy¡¯s face was pale, his lips tinged blue, and his breathing shallow. Viper crouched beside him, inspecting the crude tourniquet tied around the stump of his leg. With the same clinical precision, she injected another stim into his arm. ¡°He¡¯s stable for now,¡± she said as she straightened slightly. ¡°But we need to move.¡± Rhino knelt beside Jimmy, his massive form almost shielding the injured man. He adjusted the makeshift bandage with surprising care for someone his size. ¡°This¡¯ll hold,¡± he said, his deep voice steady. ¡°Barely, but he¡¯ll make it.¡± Scorpion moved to Holt, slumped against the far wall, his breathing shallow and uneven. His shattered helmet revealed a ruined face¡ªone eye swollen shut, blood-crusted gashes along his jawline, and two missing fingers, the stumps crudely cauterized. ¡°Still alive,¡± Scorpion muttered, his clawed gauntlets surprisingly gentle as he checked Holt¡¯s vitals. Bull crouched beside him, snapping a collapsible stretcher into place with practiced speed. Together, they secured Holt, Scorpion lifting him onto the stretcher with care. ¡°Big guy¡¯s tougher than he looks,¡± Scorpion said as they tightened the straps. Bull nodded, already prepping another stretcher for Jimmy. ¡°He¡¯ll make it.¡± Lion¡¯s calm voice broke through the murmurs. ¡°Highness, stay close. We¡¯ll get them out.¡± I nodded, my eyes lingering on Garin. He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. For the first time, there was no disdain in his look, only something fragile, fleeting. Gratitude, perhaps. ¡°You did good,¡± he muttered, barely audible. ¡°Thank you.¡± I didn¡¯t respond. I wasn¡¯t sure how. Instead, I knelt to help Garin to his feet, his arm slung over my shoulders as we followed the Guards. His weight pressed against me, heavy with exhaustion and pain, but he didn¡¯t complain. After a few steps, I passed him to Mantis, who steadied him with a firm grip, her movements precise and unshaken. I turned back to Reid, crouching to help him up. He leaned into me, his face pale and drenched in sweat, but his grip was strong as he wrapped an arm over my shoulders. ¡°We¡¯re not out of this yet,¡± Lion said, his tone quiet but commanding. ¡°Eagle, clear us a path.¡± ¡°On it,¡± she replied, her jetpack flaring softly as she took point.
The weight of the injured added urgency to every step. The whispers stirred faintly in my mind, a low and insistent hum. I forced them down. There was no room for them now. All that mattered was getting everyone out alive¡ªno time to think about what I had done, the feral beast I had become in the hallway. The claws, the teeth¡ªfar longer than they should have been, like fangs¡ªhaunted the edges of my thoughts. As we stepped back into the corridor, Reid¡¯s voice broke the tense silence, weak but laced with his usual humor. ¡°Hey, Sol,¡± he called faintly, a shadow of his usual grin tugging at his lips. ¡°If you wanted me to lean on you, you could¡¯ve just asked. No need to throw in the mutants for drama.¡± Despite the blood, the pain, and the clawing hunger still gnawing at my chest, I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle softly. ¡°Noted. Next time, no mutants.¡± The return to the Jericho was tense, the adrenaline of the rescue mission giving way to a sharp, cold awareness. The injured were stabilized as best as possible with the supplies we¡¯d brought, but their condition was precarious. The Guards moved as one, their towering frames an impenetrable barrier of steel and precision, their formation tightening around the wounded. ¡°Maintain vigilance,¡± Lion said, his voice calm but commanding over the comms. ¡°The swarm was vast. Stragglers are likely.¡± ¡°Contact,¡± Eagle reported a few minutes later. She hovered at point, her jetpack humming softly in the cramped corridor. Owl moved beside her, sniper rifle ready and aimed into the darkness. ¡°Thermals picking up movement,¡± Hyena added, his shotgun at the ready. ¡°Not as many as before, but enough to make it fun.¡± The first mutant skittered into view, its elongated limbs clinging to the walls. It snarled, milky, pupil-less eyes locking on us before it launched itself forward. Owl fired once, her plasma rifle tearing through its torso and sending it crashing to the floor in a smoking heap. ¡°Stay in formation,¡± Lion ordered. ¡°They¡¯re testing us.¡± As if on cue, more emerged from the shadows¡ªgrotesque figures crawling along walls and ceiling, their movements erratic and wrong. Falcon and Cheetah spearheaded the advance, their dual pistols blazing in synchronized bursts. Plasma rounds punched through the twisted forms, leaving smoldering craters in flesh. One mutant lunged from the ceiling, but Cheetah¡¯s pistols barked in quick succession, the creature collapsing mid-air in a tangle of limbs and viscera. Falcon moved with fluid efficiency, his pistols spitting rapid fire as he cleared a cluster of mutants attempting to flank. ¡°Keep them off the walls,¡± he said over the comms, his voice calm and focused. Another mutant leapt toward him, but he dropped it with a precise double shot before it could reach the ground. Behind them, Eagle and Owl followed, their firepower cutting through anything that slipped past. Eagle¡¯s plasma bursts sent two creatures tumbling to the floor, their bodies twitching as molten flesh hissed against the metal. Owl¡¯s sniper rifle barked again, the sharp crack echoing as another mutant¡¯s head exploded in a spray of gore. Rhino stepped forward, his shield absorbing a mutant¡¯s lunge with a sharp crack of energy. With a grunt, he slammed the shield into its torso, pinning it to the wall. Grizzly followed with a vicious swipe of his claws, shredding the creature in a spray of blood and bone. Hyena laughed over the comms as his shotgun barked, turning another mutant into a pulpy mess. ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d learn by now¡ªflesh versus steel doesn¡¯t end well.¡± ¡°Less commentary,¡± Viper snapped, her tone sharp as her plasma blade sliced cleanly through a mutant¡¯s legs. Holding the cot with Jimmy¡¯s unconscious form steady in her other hand, she drove the blade into the mutant¡¯s chest. The venom coating the blade hissed and bubbled, melting flesh from bone in a grotesque display. ¡°Focus,¡± she barked, her movements quick and determined as she kept Jimmy protected from the chaos. The Guards¡¯ advance was relentless, their firepower and precision overwhelming. I stayed close to Rhino, gripping my pistol tightly though it felt useless in my hands. The whispers stirred faintly, urging me to act, but I forced them down. The Guards didn¡¯t falter, and I had to trust that they¡¯d get us out. By the time we reached the docking bay, the mutants¡¯ numbers had thinned to nothing. The corridor was a slaughterhouse¡ªblood slicked the walls, and the acrid stench of burning flesh hung heavy in the air. The Guards barely paused, their steps steady and their shields crackling faintly with residual energy. Crocodile, Viper, Bull, and Scorpion carried Holt and Jimmy on stretchers, their movements steady and efficient. Reid leaned heavily on me for support, his steps uneven but determined. His voice was quiet, just loud enough for me to hear over the hum of the Guards¡¯ shields. ¡°You¡¯re something else, Sol,¡± Reid said with a faint, crooked grin, his voice rough but warm. ¡°Covered in blood, saving my sorry ass¡­ if I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say you¡¯re trying to show me up.¡± I let out a small laugh despite myself, steadying him as we moved forward. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I replied, trying to ignore the metallic taste of blood lingering on my tongue. His words hung in the air¡ªnot too heavy, not too light¡ªjust enough to keep us both moving. Mantis supported Garin on the other side, her movements calm and precise. Garin glanced toward Reid but said nothing, his attention focused on staying upright.
Falcon and Cheetah took point as we entered the bay, their pistols cutting down any stragglers with swift, efficient shots. A mutant lunged from a side corridor, but Cheetah¡¯s plasma rounds stopped it in its tracks, its body crumpling to the ground. Another creature darted toward Falcon, claws outstretched, but he sidestepped and fired a controlled burst into its chest, leaving it lifeless before it hit the floor. Ahead, Jaguar and Badger were already engaging the remaining threats. Jaguar¡¯s massive plasma sword hummed as it arced through the air, severing a charging mutant cleanly in two. Badger¡¯s plasma rifle fired sharp, controlled bursts, each shot eliminating mutants before they could get close. Their coordinated movements ensured no creature breached their line. Owl and Eagle moved with precision on overwatch, scanning the bay for additional threats. Owl¡¯s sniper rifle hissed softly, her shots striking down potential threats before they could act. Eagle¡¯s plasma bursts cut down anything that tried to flank the group, ensuring the path to the cargo ship was clear. Behind us, Fox and Wolf secured the rear, their eyes constantly sweeping the corridor we¡¯d come from. A mutant dropped from the ceiling, claws aimed for Wolf, but Fox intercepted it with a quick, clean strike from her plasma daggers. Wolf followed up with a final shot, ensuring nothing remained alive. ¡°Rear secured,¡± Fox reported, her voice steady over the comms. ¡°Clear,¡± Cheetah called from the front. ¡°Path to extraction is secure.¡± The ramp of the cargo ship extended into the bay, a lifeline in the chaos. The Guards moved quickly, forming a protective circle as they ushered the injured aboard. Scorpion and Bull worked in sync, loading stretchers with swift, practiced precision. Every movement was deliberate; every second counted. The bay fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the hum of the Guards¡¯ shields and the faint thrum of the waiting cargo ship. The stench of blood and rot lingered, a grim reminder of what we were leaving behind. ¡°Wolf, Fox,¡± Lion commanded as the last stretcher was loaded, his voice sharp but steady, ¡°take the shuttle. Return to the Jericho. Ensure the Hemlock is left behind.¡± Fox exchanged a brief glance with Wolf, her expression unreadable behind her visor. ¡°Understood,¡± she replied. The two Guards moved swiftly to the shuttle, its engines already humming to life. As they boarded, the sleek craft detached smoothly from the bay and lifted off, disappearing into the void. ¡°Move,¡± Lion ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. The Guards formed up, their footsteps heavy on the metal floor as they marched aboard the cargo ship. The ramp sealed shut behind us with a final, metallic hiss. I moved toward the viewport, my gaze drawn to the Hemlock¡¯s skeletal form. The derelict ship floated lifelessly in the vast darkness, its scarred hull illuminated by the faint glow of distant stars. Even in its silence, it exuded menace¡ªa ghostly reminder of the horrors we had faced and the ones that might still follow us. As the cargo ship surged forward, leaving the Hemlock behind, I exhaled slowly. The whispers in my mind were quieter now, but their presence lingered, coiled in the shadows of my thoughts. The Hemlock was behind us, but the nightmare was far from over. The cargo ship docked with the Jericho seamlessly as we landed in the hangar. The moment the ramp lowered, Yates and Ashly were there, their movements brisk and efficient as they worked to assist with the wounded. Yates moved immediately to Holt and Jimmy, her hands steady as she worked to stabilize their injuries. Ashly hovered nearby, her expression tight with concern as she inspected Garin¡¯s condition. ¡°Get them to the med bay,¡± Yates ordered, her voice calm but firm. Hyena, Crocodile, and Owl stepped forward, each taking charge of a stretcher. They moved with surprising gentleness, their imposing frames belying their care as they carried the wounded down the corridor. Yates and Ashly followed closely, their attention fixed on the injured. Lion stood at the viewport, his golden visor reflecting the faint glow of the Hemlock. His massive frame was eerily still, exuding a cold detachment. ¡°Jericho,¡± he commanded, his voice calm and resolute, ¡°align railguns for firing solution.¡± The words sent a jolt through me, and I froze mid-step. My stomach twisted as the knot in my chest tightened. ¡°What are you doing?¡± My voice came out sharper than I intended as I stepped toward him, fists clenched. ¡°You can¡¯t just blow it up!¡± Lion didn¡¯t turn, his visor fixed on the drifting wreckage of the Hemlock. ¡°The Hemlock is a liability,¡± he said, his tone clinical. ¡°It must be destroyed.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t even know what¡¯s on it!¡± I shot back, the heat in my voice rising. ¡°There could be survivors¡ªpeople in cryo¡ªanswers to what happened!¡± Finally, Lion turned slightly, the glow of the viewport glinting off his visor. ¡°Survival takes precedence over sentimentality,¡± he said evenly. ¡°Your father understood that.¡± The mention of my father was like a slap, the words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. Before I could summon a reply, a new voice broke the tension. ¡°You¡¯re not blowing it up, Lion.¡± Warren¡¯s voice was sharp and commanding as he strode into the hangar with Vega close behind. His expression was tight, a mix of anger and frustration. ¡°You just pulled our people off that ship, and for that, I¡¯m grateful. But you don¡¯t get to make this call.¡±
Lion turned fully to face him, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the room. ¡°This is not a decision I make lightly, Captain,¡± he said, his tone cold and resolute. ¡°The Hemlock¡¯s plasma burns, corrupted systems, and mutations are sufficient evidence. Further contact is an unacceptable risk.¡± He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. ¡°As Supreme Commander under Voss¡¯s emergency directives, I have the authority. And you, more than anyone, know that¡ªsoon, so will the Captains.¡± Warren stopped a few steps from him, his jaw tightening. ¡°We¡¯ve barely scratched the surface of that ship,¡± he argued, his voice strained but firm. ¡°You¡¯re erasing evidence. You¡¯re erasing answers.¡± ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± Vega interjected, stepping forward, her voice sharp. ¡°There are cryo pods on board that might still hold survivors¡ªpeople who can tell us what happened. That ship¡¯s been drifting for decades, maybe longer. Destroying it now doesn¡¯t just erase evidence¡ªit erases our chance to understand.¡± Lion¡¯s tone remained unyielding. ¡°Understanding is irrelevant if it comes at the cost of this ship. The plasma burns confirm non-human involvement, possibly hostile Xeno''s. The risk of contamination outweighs any potential gain.¡± ¡°And what about the crew you just saved?¡± Vega snapped. ¡°They¡¯re survivors, not threats!¡± ¡°They are quarantined,¡± Lion replied coldly. ¡°That is non-negotiable. You quarantined Sol when her condition was unknown, Warren. You cannot argue against applying the same logic now.¡± Warren hesitated, guilt flickering across his face before he sighed heavily. ¡°Quarantine, yes. But this¡ªthis is different. The Hemlock wasn¡¯t supposed to turn out like this.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± I demanded, stepping closer, my voice cutting through the thick tension. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®it wasn¡¯t supposed to turn out like this?¡¯¡± Vega looked between me and Warren, her shoulders tense, before she answered. ¡°The Hemlock was your father¡¯s first attempt. His first test of Project Phoenix.¡± Her words hit me like a physical blow. I struggled to process them, my mind racing. ¡°What?¡± I whispered, my voice barely audible. Warren exhaled heavily, stepping forward. His voice was laced with regret. ¡°Over two centuries ago, your father used the Hemlock¡¯s crew to test an early version of his serum. He wanted to push the boundaries of human evolution¡ªto prepare us for survival in deep space. But the serum was incomplete. Unguided.¡± My stomach churned, my thoughts racing as pieces began to fall into place. ¡°The mutations,¡± I said softly, remembering the grotesque, twisted creatures I had seen on the Hemlock. ¡°That¡¯s what happened to them, isn¡¯t it? They weren¡¯t always like that.¡± Warren nodded grimly. ¡°They were attacked¡ªby aliens or something else¡ªbut they didn¡¯t die. The serum kept them alive, but it warped them over time. Decades of drifting without containment turned them into¡­ monsters.¡± ¡°And you knew,¡± I said, my voice trembling with anger as I turned to Warren. ¡°You knew, and you sent people there anyway.¡± ¡°We thought it would have answers,¡± Warren admitted, his voice breaking under the weight of his confession. ¡°We thought it might hold the missing pieces to complete Phoenix.¡± ¡°But all you found were monsters,¡± Lion interjected coldly. ¡°Just like in Lab 3.¡± The mention of Lab 3 sent a chill down my spine. My voice was barely above a whisper as I said, ¡°Wilks.¡± Lion turned to me, his golden visor tilting. ¡°Wilks was another attempt to replicate Phoenix. They gave him a version of your father¡¯s serum. It killed him¡ªand when they tried to bring him back with Hydra, it created something else.¡± I turned back to Warren, the anger in my chest bubbling to the surface. ¡°Is that why you woke me? After fifty years, after keeping me in the dark about all of this¡ªyou woke me because you were out of options? Even this mission to a centuries-old ship from my father¡¯s earliest work¡­ you¡¯re desperate.¡± Warren¡¯s shoulders sagged under the weight of my words. He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. ¡°Yes, we are, Sol. All of humanity is,¡± he said finally. His voice carried a weariness that felt like an excuse rather than an apology. ¡°The captains forbade it, but I made the decision. This was my choice alone. We didn¡¯t know how else to move forward without your father.¡± He hesitated, his jaw tightening before he continued. ¡°Garin opposed waking you¡ªhe said it was too dangerous, that your changes could be unpredictable¡ªbut Knight insisted. She believed your blood might hold the key to stabilizing Phoenix.¡± I shook my head, my voice trembling with fury and disbelief. ¡°So I¡¯m just an experiment to you. A lab rat.¡± ¡°You¡¯re more than that,¡± Vega said, her voice soft but urgent. ¡°You¡¯re the only viable result of Phoenix. The serum your father gave you¡ªit¡¯s controlled. Guided. It¡¯s why you haven¡¯t¡­ changed like they did.¡± Lion stepped forward, his massive presence commanding the room. ¡°The Hemlock proves that Phoenix cannot be left incomplete,¡± he said, his tone steady and unyielding. ¡°You are the only one who can finish it, Highness. Without Phoenix, humanity will not survive.¡± The whispers coiled tighter in my mind, dark and insidious. Finish it, Sol. Take what is yours. The low hum of the railguns filled the hangar, the sound vibrating through the air like an unspoken threat. ¡°Jericho,¡± Lion commanded, his voice calm, resolute. ¡°Prepare to fire.¡± ¡°No!¡± I shouted, my voice breaking as I stepped forward, fists clenched. ¡°You can¡¯t do this! There could still be answers¡ªsurvivors. I order you, as the last Voss, to stop!¡± Lion turned his golden visor toward me, his massive frame unwavering, his voice steady but cold. ¡°Your father¡¯s original orders come first, Highness,¡± he said, his tone carrying an unyielding authority. ¡°Humanity was born to inherit the stars. Xeno scum or not, survival demands evolution. That is the only truth, and I will see you through it.¡± His words were heavy with certainty, each one striking like his gravity hammer. ¡°The only question now, Sol, is what you will do with it.¡± I turned to Warren and Vega, my voice trembling as desperation took hold. ¡°You can¡¯t let him do this!¡± But they didn¡¯t move. Warren¡¯s gaze stayed fixed on the floor, his shoulders sagging under the weight of some unspoken guilt. The shadows on his face were long and heavy, but he said nothing. Vega stood beside him, rigid and tense, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her jaw twitched as if she wanted to say something, but she stayed silent. Neither of them would stop him. They couldn¡¯t¡ªor wouldn¡¯t. My breath caught in my chest, my fingers trembling as I stepped back. I was alone in this. Again. The railguns hummed louder, their targeting systems locking onto the Hemlock. The rising sound was a countdown, each second ticking toward the moment I couldn¡¯t undo. And in that moment, I felt the hunger stir within me, coiled and insistent. This is who you are, Sol. This is what you were made for. The first shot cracked through the silence, the sound reverberating through the hangar like a thunderclap. The echo of the railgun¡¯s first shot still rang in the air as the Hemlock shuddered violently under the impact, debris spiraling into the void. My breath caught as I stared at the viewport, unable to tear my eyes away from the destruction. The second shot fired, tearing through the Hemlock¡¯s core. I flinched at the sound, my hands trembling at my sides. The ship groaned as its structure collapsed inward, like a dying beast gasping its last breath. The final shot struck the reactor, and the explosion lit up the void in a blinding burst of light. The Hemlock was gone, reduced to ash and drifting wreckage. Its secrets, its horrors¡ªall obliterated in moments. The echoes of the railgun fire faded, leaving behind a deafening silence. I turned away from the viewport, my hands shaking. The hunger was still there, gnawing at me like a deep, insistent pull, but it wasn¡¯t just physical. It was in my mind, in my blood. It was a part of me. Something I couldn¡¯t escape. Lion¡¯s voice broke through the tense silence, calm and unyielding. ¡°First, you know we must tell the captains,¡± he said, his golden visor fixed on Warren. ¡°You have kept them in the dark long enough¡ªafter they forbade waking Sol, after Lab 3, and after you chose not to inform them about the Hemlock.¡± He stepped closer, his immense frame exuding an aura of authority. ¡°The Xeno threat is too great to ignore. We must plan, Warren. The captains must know the truth¡ªnot just about the Hemlock but about what we are facing. If humanity is to survive, we need to evolve, and Sol must be given the role she deserves. This is no longer just about her or you. It is about all of us.¡± Lion¡¯s golden visor tilted slightly, his tone firm but devoid of malice. ¡°You cannot carry this burden alone any longer. The time for secrecy is over. You will keep your promise to Her Highness and open Lab 3, so she can continue where her father left off¡ªafter we wake Knight and speak with the captains.¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening under the weight of the accusation. ¡°Without Voss, we did the best we could, Lion,¡± he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. ¡°I hope you¡¯re right. I¡¯ve come to trust Sol, but to put all this weight on her¡­ even as we are still learning what is happening to her.¡± He trailed off, his gaze shifting to me. For a moment, his eyes softened, almost sorrowful, as if he had kept me in the dark for my own sake. And maybe he was right. But the whispers stirred in the back of my mind, coiling around my thoughts like smoke. He doubts you. Even now. Lion¡¯s heavy footsteps broke the stillness as he turned toward the door, his towering frame blocking the light of the viewport. ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± he said, his voice carrying across the room with the weight of command. ¡°Jericho, prepare the medical bay. Wake Knight. Wake the captains.¡± His tone left no room for argument. Warren hesitated only briefly, his shoulders sagging as he followed Lion to the door. As he reached the threshold, he stopped and looked back at me. ¡°Sol,¡± he called, his voice quieter now, almost imploring. ¡°Come with us.¡± I didn¡¯t move. My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms. My chest felt tight, my breathing shallow. I stared at the viewport, at the place where the Hemlock had been. All that was left now was scattered debris and the faint echo of my father¡¯s legacy drifting into the void. So much for getting its captain¡¯s clearance. I guess I don¡¯t need it anyway. The weight of it all bore down on me¡ªthe whispers, the hunger, the twisted faces of the Hemlock mutants burned into my memory. My mind churned, replaying the moment my teeth sank into that creature¡¯s flesh, my claws tearing it apart. My body had shifted, become something monstrous, only to recede again, leaving behind the sharp edge of hunger that never went away. Lion¡¯s words rang in my ears, heavy with conviction. ¡°Humanity was born to inherit the stars,¡± he said, his tone devoid of malice, only certainty. The answer felt heavier than I could bear. My father had made me into this¡ªthis thing that was supposed to save humanity, to finish what he started. But all I felt was the hunger, the changes clawing at my edges. What if they consumed me before I could ever be enough? I clenched my fists tighter, staring into the void where the Hemlock had been, now nothing but scattered ash and debris. My voice trembled, a fragile whisper against the weight crushing down on me. ¡°What if I can¡¯t?¡± I asked, more to myself than anyone else. ¡°What if I¡¯m not enough?¡± The whispers didn¡¯t answer, but something darker stirred in their silence¡ªa shadow that felt ancient and patient, coiling tighter around my thoughts. The hunger clawed at me, sharp and relentless, gnawing not just at my body but at the fragile edges of my sanity. It didn¡¯t care if I could or couldn¡¯t. It only wanted me to move forward, to consume, to evolve. Behind me, Lion and Warren disappeared down the corridor, their footsteps fading into the ship¡¯s hollow vastness. I didn¡¯t follow. I couldn¡¯t. My feet felt rooted to the ground, my thoughts circling back to the Hemlock, its shattered remnants floating aimlessly. The secrets we sought there were lost, but the ghosts it left behind lingered. This whole thing fucking sucks. I groaned, dragging a trembling hand down my face, smearing blood that wasn¡¯t even mine. My white hair, stiff and matted with gore, clung to my neck. The reflection in the viewport stopped me¡ªone red eye, one blue, staring back from a blood-smeared face that didn¡¯t feel like mine. My shredded pressure suit hung in tatters, clinging to me like a second skin soaked in death. I¡¯d need a new one. Look at you, the whispers teased. I bit my lip, hard, tasting blood. The hunger surged instantly, clawing at the edges of my mind. Get it together. But I couldn¡¯t. The Hemlock was gone, blown apart, its answers lost with it. All that was left was my cursed blood and that bitch Knight, still frozen in cryo. She wasn¡¯t my father. She wasn¡¯t even close. And Warren? His secrets, his guilt¡ªthey buried everything. Maybe he was right. Maybe what¡¯s waiting in Lab 3 is worse. The yellow-eyed monster, the whispers curled around me. Is it Wilks? Is it me? I bit down harder, canines slicing into my lip. The blood surged, warm and thick, and the hunger roared to life. God, what is wrong with me? The mutant¡¯s face flashed in my mind¡ªthe crack of its bones, the blood, the taste. Too natural. Too easy. The whispers only laughed. Lab 3 is waiting. It¡¯s yours to find. I shook my head, trying to breathe. Wilks was locked in Lab 3. Contained. So what the hell was the yellow-eyed monster? Aliens? Another mutant? Or am I just losing my mind? I turned from the viewport, dragging a shaking hand through my gore-stiffened hair. The shredded remnants of my suit clung to me like a cruel joke. No answers. Just questions. And the worst goddamn part? The real nightmare isn¡¯t out there. It¡¯s me. But if I didn¡¯t follow them now, if I didn¡¯t face what was in Lab 3, the next nightmare might not leave anyone to question anything. "Come on, Sol!" Warren¡¯s voice called from the corridor, and I forced my legs to move. Whatever waited in Lab 3¡ªanswers or horrors¡ªI had no choice but to follow. Chapter 11 : The Captains Gambit I padded along the gleaming walkway, shoulders curled inward as the ceiling soared above me, an unforgiving vault of metal that made my short frame feel smaller still. Every reflective panel shone with sterile brilliance, harsh enough to sting my eyes and throw my ragged silhouette back at me. There was no warmth in the air¡ªonly a faint metallic tang that caught at the back of my throat, like I was breathing hospital fumes. Jericho might have been built to safeguard humanity for centuries, but with dried blood caking my knuckles and a suit stiff from unspeakable encounters, all I sensed here was a silent monument to the dead. Lion strode beside me, a towering nine-foot presence in gleaming gold armor. The roaring lion etched across his chest plate looked alive, an eternal snarl of defiance. His gravity hammer rested on his shoulder with easy confidence, humming just loud enough to remind me of its destructive potential. He embodied some god of war given flesh, unbothered by the carnage he and his men left behind. At only five feet tall, I barely reached his chest. My pressure suit hung in tatters, exposing swaths of pale skin layered with dried grime. It¡¯s a wonder I¡¯m still standing. I flexed my hand to ease the phantom ache from where my claws had receded. My pressure suit was ripped at the midsection and shoulder, leaving pale skin caked in gore. Not all the blood was mine¡ªmy relentless healing had ensured I¡¯d survive the slaughter, but it couldn¡¯t scrub away the rank smell of sweat and iron that clung to every inch of me without a bath. My hair¡ªlong, white, and snarled¡ªfanned around my face in knotted clumps. Streaks of rust-brown still colored the ends, clinging to the damp tangles. Each time I tried to brush them aside, I felt the heat, the screams, the metallic taste on my tongue all over again. The tatters of my suit hung stiff with dried gore, exposing swaths of skin that still burned with phantom pain, reminding me I was a step away from dying back there. I glanced at my reflection in a strip of polished metal. My canines¡ªstill too sharp, but smaller than the fangs that had grown to fight the monster¡ªpressed against the inside of my lips. Not quite human anymore, am I? A sickening memory flashed: tendons popping under my claws, warm liquid spattering my cheeks. Lion had slaughtered his way through dozens of them without a scratch, but I¡¯d almost died fighting just one. I¡¯m not fucking human anymore, I told myself, I''m a monster who shouldn¡¯t have survived. I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze to the floor. Faint red footprints marked my wake, tacky on the smooth metal. I¡¯d ditched my boots earlier, no longer able to bear the squelch of half-coagulated fluid between my toes. Now the chill of the deck bit into my bare feet, jolting me with every step. A small drone hovered behind, its mechanism whirring softly as it scrubbed away my bloody footprints¡ªcleansing every last trace of me from Jericho¡¯s corridors. They¡¯re always watching, I thought bitterly, remembering weeks locked away as drones tended to me with mechanical efficiency. Feeding me, medicating me, cleaning me¡ªlike I was their test subject. My little princess¡­ The whisper curled through my mind. You can¡¯t hide forever. You know where you¡¯re supposed to be. Stop wasting time¡ªopen the door. My breath caught in my throat. I balled my fists until my nails dug into my palms, fighting the phantom words I¡¯d never wanted to hear again. He¡¯s gone. Just like that old life. Let him stay dead, I pleaded inwardly. But the pressure in my chest only tightened, a suffocating weight that refused to let me go. I forced my focus back to the hallway ahead. Lion continued his steady march, unshakeable, a testament to perfection I couldn¡¯t begin to match. I should thank him for saving them even if he let that thing gut me, I thought, but I can¡¯t bring myself to speak. Instead, I followed in his wake, bloodstained and trembling, haunted by the voice that wouldn¡¯t let me forget the horrors at my back¡ªor the ones I carried within. My little Phoenix, the whispers came again, sharper this time. You think you can ignore this? Finish what I started. You were made for this. Ahead, Warren and Vega moved with purpose, each heading to separate sections of the sprawling medical bay. Warren¡¯s broad shoulders were set, his steps heavy as he disappeared into the quarantine wing to join Yates, where the rescued crew had been isolated. Vega veered toward the cryo section, her brisk pace reflecting the urgency of preparing the captains for revival. This area, separate from the section where I had first been woken, was designed specifically for coordinated cryo awakenings. All the captains would be revived simultaneously¡ªan intentional move to ensure unity in addressing the crisis. And with them, eventually, Knight. The thought of Knight sent a shiver down my spine. My father¡¯s trusted assistant. The one person who might hold answers¡ªand the one person I wanted to face the least. Knight had been there for every experiment, every breakthrough, every twisted thing he¡¯d ever done to me in the name of humanity''s survival. She was part of his legacy, just like me. Except she chose it. She believed in it. And soon, she¡¯d wake up to see what was left of his work... me. The knot in my stomach tightened as I watched Vega disappear into the cryo bay. Lion¡¯s heavy steps echoed beside me, his towering presence as unyielding as ever. I glanced up briefly, glimpsing my disheveled reflection in his visor. His gaze was hidden, unreadable, but the weight of his attention pressed down on me all the same, heavy and deliberate. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the faint hum of his hammer. ¡°You¡¯re thinking about something,¡± Lion said suddenly, his voice calm, steady. It wasn¡¯t a question¡ªjust a statement, like he already knew what was tearing through my head. I hesitated, then pointed at myself, the blood crusted over my torn suit making the gesture almost absurd. ¡°I guess I¡¯m thinking about how you let that fucking mutant rip my throat out,¡± I said, aiming for a joke, but the bitterness in my tone killed it. My laugh was hollow, barely there. ¡°But¡­ thanks for saving Reid. If you hadn¡¯t been there, he¡¯d be dead meat. You and your men, you were¡­ effective.¡± Lion tilted his head slightly, his golden visor catching the dim light. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat tightening. ¡°At least now I¡¯ve got a shot at Lab 3. With you and your Guard here, I might actually make it through the door.¡± My voice dropped, a sharp edge bleeding through. ¡°I¡¯ve been clawing at walls, Lion. Hitting dead end after dead end. But now? Maybe I can finally get some answers.¡± Lion turned his head slightly, his golden visor reflecting back my blood-smeared face. ¡°Is that so?¡± I forced a laugh, the sound bitter in my ears. ¡°Yeah. I had my own plan, but¡­¡± I gestured to the mess I was, bloodstained and barely standing. ¡°That¡¯s not really an option anymore, is it?¡± His laugh caught me off guard¡ªa low chuckle, deep and sharp. It didn¡¯t match the war-god presence he carried. For a moment, it almost felt mocking. I stopped walking, glaring up at him. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Lion tilted his head slightly, his massive frame casting a long shadow over me. The golden sheen of his visor caught the harsh light, reflecting back my mismatched red and blue eyes like fractured, unrecognizable pieces of myself. ¡°You were thinking about the Hemlock,¡± he said, his voice calm, almost detached. ¡°About what you¡¯re becoming¡­ but you forgot all about your plan to steal the captain¡¯s credentials after that mutant mauled you, didn¡¯t you?¡± The words hit me like a slap, my breath catching in my throat. How did he know that? The plan had been nothing more than a desperate thought, one of the whispers, buried under fear and chaos, a whisper of a memory tangled with the screams of that fight. I hadn¡¯t told anyone. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I said sharply, but my voice betrayed me, trembling under the weight of his words. Lion chuckled, the sound rumbling behind his helm, like distant thunder. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to. Jericho told me everything.¡± The mention of the ship sent a chill through me. ¡°Jericho?¡± Lion¡¯s voice was patient, almost condescending. ¡°You¡¯re a bad liar. Your father¡¯s ship isn¡¯t just walls and wiring, Highness. It listens. Watches. Measures you. But such a plan isn¡¯t necessary now that I¡¯m here. We¡¯ll speak with the captains and fix this whole mess.¡± ¡°Fucking drones,¡± I muttered, my voice sharper than I intended. ¡°But I never spoke of that plan out loud.¡± My words wavered, the tremor in my voice betraying me. Lion chuckled again, the sound sharper this time. ¡°You whisper in your sleep¡ªor scream during your night terrors. Jericho monitors your biometrics: your pulse, your breathing, even your dreams. The signals your father¡¯s implants left behind¡ªJericho still reads them. It knew about your plan before you even decided to act. Hell, it even knows you talk to yourself, holding full conversations. But you¡¯re not really talking to yourself, are you? You¡¯re talking to him.¡± The knot in my chest tightened until I could barely breathe. The whispers stirred again, curling at the edges of my mind. Follow the path, my little Phoenix. Trust him. He is the hammer. You are the flame. Together you can reforge humanity. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± I muttered, my voice shaky, barely above a whisper. ¡°What else has Jericho told you?¡± Lion¡¯s smirk was audible in his reply, sharp and cutting. ¡°Plenty,¡± he said, his tone dipping into something almost amused. ¡°And because, like it or not, I¡¯m your only friend on this ship, Highness. Screaming about clearance codes in the middle of a nightmare? Not exactly a subtle way to keep secrets.¡± Heat flushed my face, mortification mixing with frustration. ¡°I have more friends than just you, Lion,¡± I said, the thought of Reid and Yates flickering briefly in my mind. But doubt crawled in, coiling tighter with every second. Lion didn¡¯t answer immediately. His heavy footsteps filled the silence before he spoke again, his tone turning sharp, almost amused. ¡°You think Warren¡¯s keeping you in the dark because of guilt or mistrust?¡± He shook his head slightly. ¡°No. He¡¯s protecting himself.¡± My breath caught. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Warren lied,¡± Lion said bluntly. ¡°About you, about the Hemlock, about Lab 3. When the captains wake and see what he¡¯s hidden, they¡¯ll have no choice but to side with me. The state of emergency will hold¡ªunless they accept my alternate plan.¡± He paused, letting the moment hang in the silence. ¡°They can keep their council without an emergency if they want. I have no interest in commanding them forever. But they will have to give you what really matters: the same clearance your father held. Captain-level authority. You don¡¯t need emergency protocols if everyone agrees you belong at the top.¡± I remembered Warren¡¯s words from earlier¡ªthat the captains could veto Lion¡¯s authority if they all agreed. But now, hearing Lion speak so confidently, I felt that knot of unease twist tighter in my stomach. ¡°And if they don¡¯t?¡± Lion¡¯s laughter was cold and assured. ¡°They will. Between the alien threat, the quarantine, and Lab 3, they¡¯ll have no other choice. Especially when they see what I¡¯m bringing to the table.¡± The implications hit me like a blow. ¡°You mean me,¡± I whispered. ¡°You¡¯re planning to put me in charge.¡± ¡°Head scientist,¡± Lion confirmed. ¡°Above Garin, who¡¯s in quarantine, and Knight, who has her own¡­ biases. You¡¯re the only one who can continue your father¡¯s work. The only survivor of Phoenix. The only Voss.¡± My stomach twisted at his words, at the certainty in his voice. He wasn¡¯t asking for my opinion. He was laying out a future he would carve out, with or without my consent. ¡°But why me? Why insist on this even if we don¡¯t have an emergency?¡± My voice shook despite myself. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve that kind of clearance. That¡¯s why I was going to steal it,¡± I admitted, my words coming out barely above a whisper. It all felt so undeserved¡ªwhy was I always just handed the answers to my problems? Lion¡¯s visor tilted, catching the harsh light and flashing my reflection back at me. ¡°Because it¡¯s yours by right, Highness¡ªemergency or not. If they won¡¯t concede under threat of Xenos, they¡¯ll concede under me. One way or another, you¡¯ll have every clearance you need to finish what your father started.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t earn this,¡± I said quietly, my throat tight. Lion¡¯s tone softened, though it held no warmth. ¡°Your father made sure you never had to. Did you forget about that emergency passcode you used to access his restricted projects?¡± He resumed walking, his hammer resting on his shoulder like a silent promise. For a moment, I couldn¡¯t move, because I knew he was right. The sterile lights around me seemed too bright, the walls too close. The whispers twisted his words, reshaping them into something cruel. You didn¡¯t need to earn this. It¡¯s your birthright, my dear¡ªmy legacy. Soon, my little Phoenix, you will be the eternal flame in the darkness. Follow your brave knight, my dear princess. With a shaky breath, I followed Lion into the medical bay. The faint hum of his armor and the steady echoes of the ship filled the silence, broken only by the soft whir of the doors sliding open. The sharp scent of antiseptic greeted us, sterile and biting¡ªa reminder of the countless lives this room had worked to save, or lost, in the process. The bay was already alive with activity. Polished surfaces reflected the harsh overhead lights, each station meticulously arranged, a testament to Jericho''s cold efficiency. A line of cryo pods stood at the room¡¯s center, their frosted exteriors clearing as the thawing process neared its conclusion. The rhythmic beeps of monitors and the occasional hiss of vapor added to the clinical symphony. Viper¡¯s towering frame glided between the pods with the precision of a surgeon and the bearing of a soldier. Though her armor was slimmer than Lion¡¯s or Rhino¡¯s, it was patterned in green and blue scales¡ªsleek and lightweight, reminiscent of Eagle¡¯s flight-suited design. Her keen eyes flicked across the data readouts, leaving no detail unchecked or margin for error. She barked concise orders to Jericho¡¯s assistant drones, each one responding with flawless, machine-like obedience. Metal limbs moved in synchronized arcs, dutifully wiping condensation from the pods and verifying the seals. As the drones finished each task, they hovered in silent readiness for her next command, reflections of the scaled armor flashing across their polished surfaces. Knight¡¯s pod had already been moved into position in the far corner of the room. Its frosted glass seemed to glow faintly under the harsh lights. Viper¡¯s attention lingered there for a moment, her hands brushing over the controls with a precision that spoke to her dual nature¡ªboth a soldier and a healer. She paused briefly, her brow furrowing as if weighing the decision, then stepped back. Knight¡¯s revival process remained paused, leaving her still entombed in stasis. ¡°She¡¯s not waking yet,¡± Viper said, her voice cutting across the room with an edge of finality. ¡°The captains will be first.¡± At the same moment, the door to the medical bay slid open with a soft hiss, and Warren strode in, his beard looking more gray than black these days. The faint lines of exhaustion etched into his face were unmistakable, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. His gaze swept across the room, briefly flicking to the cryo pods¡ªlingering on Knight¡¯s¡ªbefore settling on Viper and Vega. Vega was already at work, steadying one of the drones as it maneuvered the final captain¡¯s pod into position. She gave the pod a firm tap once it locked into place, her movements brisk and efficient. Straightening, she turned toward Warren, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. ¡°All pods are in position,¡± Vega announced. Her tone was calm, but the tightness in her jaw betrayed the tension she felt. She glanced at Warren, then Lion, before nodding toward the pods. ¡°We¡¯re ready when you are.¡± Warren moved to the center of the half-circle formed by the cryo pods, his broad shoulders clad in his worn leather jacket, the fabric creaking softly with each deliberate step. The jacket, a relic from Earth¡¯s past, seemed out of place amidst the sterile, gleaming expanse of the medical bay¡ªa reminder of a world long gone, much like the man wearing it. His eyes briefly met mine, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between us¡ªan apology, a warning, or perhaps both. Then he turned toward Lion, who loomed silently behind us. The soft hiss of pressurized seals broke the silence as Lion reached up and removed his helmet. Steam curled faintly around the edges as he lowered it, cradling the golden helm under his arm. His revealed face was a study in contradictions¡ªwhat remained of his humanity marred and reinforced by the machinery that kept him alive. The right side of his face was tan, weathered by time and battles, while his left side was a patchwork of burns, nano-mesh, and cybernetic replacements. A silver plate replaced what had once been his cheekbone, connecting to a jawline framed by thin, dark mesh wires that flexed like muscle. His left eye was gone, replaced by a glowing cybernetic implant that flickered faintly as it adjusted to the light. But it was his right eye that made my stomach twist¡ªa piercing yellow, bright and unnatural, yet disturbingly familiar. It carried the same haunting hue as the monster¡¯s eyes, and seeing it sent a shiver down my spine. My fangs scraped against my tongue, and I tasted blood, sharp and metallic, as I bit down instinctively. The sudden sting made me flinch, and I pressed my lips together to keep from betraying my discomfort. Warren¡¯s gaze flicked between me and Lion, his jaw tightening. ¡°Before we wake them,¡± he said, his voice steady, ¡°I stand by my choice to wake Sol. Desperation or not, it was the right call, and I¡¯ll own it.¡± Lion tilted his head slightly, the faint hum of his implants breaking the silence. ¡°Ownership won¡¯t be enough, Warren. They¡¯ll demand answers¡ªand it¡¯s a good thing Sol is the answer.¡± ¡°And they¡¯ll get them,¡± Warren shot back, his tone sharpening. ¡°But don¡¯t mistake this for something it¡¯s not. You¡¯re not the final say here. If we veto the emergency protocol, you¡¯ll be back in cryo by the end of the day.¡± Lion chuckled, low and sharp. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re banking on? Good luck. Once they see Lab 3, the Hemlock, and everything else waiting for them, they¡¯ll realize this isn¡¯t a choice.¡± His yellow eye flicked toward me, unreadable. ¡°And neither is Sol.¡± The weight of their attention bore into me. My tongue throbbed faintly from the earlier bite, already healed¡ªa sharp reminder of what I couldn¡¯t escape. Hunger stirred in my gut, hollow and biting, as the whispers edged closer. They doubt you, my little Phoenix, the voice hissed, curling through my mind. Show them what you are. I swallowed the hunger down hard, meeting Lion¡¯s gaze despite the sharp edge of fear curling in my chest. Warren crossed his arms, his leather jacket creaking faintly, the sound grounding in its simplicity. Vega stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension with sharp precision. ¡°We get it now, Lion. Patience isn¡¯t an option anymore,¡± she said, her gaze shifting between him and Warren. ¡°This has been a long time coming. The ship¡¯s been teetering on a knife¡¯s edge ever since Julian Voss died. Everyone¡¯s been vying for his throne, carving out their own pieces of power. And now, after Lab 3¡ªafter the council let Knight try to pick up where Voss left off¡ªyou¡¯re both gambling everything on the hope they won¡¯t just see Sol as a threat and toss her out an airlock.¡± ¡°I¡¯d love to see them try,¡± Lion growled, his tone a low rumble of challenge. ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± I muttered under my breath, the weight of their words pressing against my chest. Unease churned with the faint thrum of hunger clawing at my insides. Warren had woken me for more than survival¡ªbut was their desperation so profound, their fear of aging and death so great, that they saw no other way forward? Even with aliens tearing through the Hemlock and the looming shadows of Lab 3, I couldn¡¯t understand why he had kept it all from them. But I would soon find out. Warren exhaled sharply, his voice lowering but no less resolute. ¡°They¡¯ll see her as a threat¡ªof course they will. Hell, I did too, after what happened with Ashly.¡± His jaw tightened, and he glanced at me briefly before looking back at Vega. ¡°But Sol isn¡¯t just her fathers work, and she isn¡¯t what came out of Lab 3. If we let our fear rule us, we¡¯re as good as dead. Waking her wasn¡¯t an easy choice, and I knew it would come with risks. But I also knew it was the right call.¡± Lion tilted his head, his piercing yellow eye locking onto Warren. The faint hum of his armor filled the silence as his expression remained unreadable, a blend of judgment and something almost like curiosity. Finally, he stepped back, his hammer shifting lightly against his shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s always been a risk, Warren,¡± Lion said, his voice calm but sharp. ¡°Ever since we left Earth, every decision has been a gamble. Voss understood that better than any of us, which is why he trusted Sol with this power. The real problem isn¡¯t her¡ªit¡¯s you and the other captains. Your hesitation nearly cost us everything. You waited until desperation forced your hand. And now, here we are, fifty years later, after you¡¯ve all aged over a decade, and only now are you finally ready to act.¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t interrupt. His gaze dipped slightly, the tension in his shoulders visible even beneath the worn leather of his jacket. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but steady. ¡°Maybe it was fear,¡± Warren admitted, his tone measured, almost reflective. ¡°I was afraid of what she might mean¡ªwhat she might become¡ªespecially after the distress calls we got from the Hemlock. We¡¯ve all seen what happens when Voss experiments go wrong.¡± He exhaled, his hands flexing at his sides. ¡°But I was just as afraid of what would happen if I didn¡¯t. We¡¯re all older now, with centuries still to go, and the threats haven¡¯t gotten any smaller.¡± He straightened, his gaze locking with Lion¡¯s, firm and unwavering. ¡°So, yeah, I hesitated. Maybe I waited too long. But in the end, I made the call I thought was right¡ªeven when the other captains didn¡¯t agree. And I¡¯ll face whatever comes next. Same as you.¡± Lion studied him for a long moment, his yellow eye gleaming faintly in the dim light. Then he gave a small nod, almost imperceptible, as if acknowledging something unspoken. ¡°Fair enough,¡± Lion said at last, his tone softening slightly. ¡°At least you¡¯re honest about it now. Julian trusted you for a reason, and maybe he wasn¡¯t wrong. But this isn¡¯t just about you anymore. The captains need to see what¡¯s at stake. And when they do, they¡¯ll know this isn¡¯t about fear or politics¡ªit¡¯s about survival.¡± Viper, who had been standing near Knight¡¯s pod, interrupted with a sharp nod toward the cryo console. Her tone carried the efficiency of someone who had long grown tired of waiting. ¡°If you two are done posturing, the captains aren¡¯t going to wake themselves. Let¡¯s get this moving.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Warren exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders, and gestured toward the pods. Vega moved to the console, her fingers flying over the controls with practiced precision. The hum of the pods grew louder, a steady vibration that resonated through the floor. Steam curled from the edges as the faint hiss of releasing seals filled the room. The frost cleared from the first pod, revealing the sharp outline of Captain Elise Rojas. Even through the fogged glass, her presence was unmistakable¡ªa figure of authority even in stasis. The whispers rose again, sharp and biting. They¡¯re waking, little Phoenix. They¡¯ll see you now. Stand tall, burn bright, be ready. The hiss of the pod¡¯s final seal cut through the silence, and the glass cover began to lift. Steam curled upward, shrouding Rojas momentarily before dispersing. As the glass cover lifted and the steam dissipated, Captain Elise Rojas sat up sharply, her piercing gaze cutting through the haze. She moved with precision, shaking off the stiffness of stasis as though waking into a crisis was second nature. Her sharp features, framed by close-cropped dark hair, carried a scowl that deepened the moment her eyes locked onto Lion¡ªand then flicked to me. Rojas, the former head general of the Voss Corporation¡¯s elite army, had once commanded the most advanced military force Earth had ever seen. Her reputation as an unflinching strategist preceded her, and even now, the authority in her posture and eyes was enough to silence a room. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the cryo pods as the others began to stir. ¡°Lion?¡± Rojas¡¯s voice was razor-sharp, a mix of disbelief and barely restrained anger. ¡°What in the hell are you doing awake?¡± Before he could answer, another pod hissed as it began its cycle. The faint outlines of Marcus Young became visible through the clearing frost. Rojas didn¡¯t wait for him; her attention was fixed on Lion and me. Her gaze dropped to the blood and grime smeared across my pressure suit, lingering on my exposed shoulder and midsection, where dried gore cracked against pale, scarred skin. Her scowl deepened. ¡°And her?¡± Rojas¡¯s tone hardened. ¡°Why is she out of cryo?¡± I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, the sharpness of her words driving home the fact that I looked like something that had crawled out of the grave. Warren stepped forward, his leather jacket creaking faintly. ¡°Elise¡ª¡±
She cut him off, her eyes snapping to him with practiced precision. ¡°Not a word from you, Warren. None of this was part of the plan¡ªnone of it.¡± The second pod opened fully, and Captain Marcus Young groaned faintly as he blinked against the harsh lights. He rubbed his temples as though shaking off a migraine, his expression shifting from disorientation to sharp awareness within moments. His eyes scanned the room, locking onto Lion first, then me, before settling on Warren. His brows furrowed, a flicker of disbelief crossing his otherwise composed features. Young, a distinguished diplomat, had been instrumental in uniting the fractured remnants of Earth¡¯s vassal states and smaller corporate nations under the Voss Corporation¡¯s banner. His skill in brokering peace and consolidating power through negotiation had made him indispensable to the mission. But now, the sharp lines of his face betrayed the weight of decisions and alliances that no longer mattered on this endless voyage. ¡°This is unexpected,¡± Young muttered, his tone measured but heavy with disapproval. ¡°Lion, you¡¯re awake? And Sol? That wasn¡¯t part of the plan.¡± The third pod began to hiss, its glass clearing to reveal Captain Aaron Blackwell. His movements were deliberate, almost mechanical, as he adjusted his pristine uniform, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles before fully stepping out. Blackwell¡¯s cold, calculating gaze swept the room, landing on Lion first with a brief flicker of disdain. His eyes moved to me, narrowing slightly as if appraising the value of a damaged asset, before finally settling on Warren. His lips curled faintly in a smirk that held no warmth, only condescension. A ruthless capitalist to his core, Blackwell had earned his place aboard Jericho not through innovation but through exploitation. His mastery in stripping Earth of its resources and crushing rivals had elevated Voss Enterprises to unparalleled dominance, amassing a fortune that rivaled the GDP of entire continents. Blackwell''s legacy was one of scorched earth and empty coffers¡ªa world left barren to fund the construction of humanity¡¯s last hope. ¡°Well,¡± he said dryly, his tone dripping with derision as his gaze lingered on Lion, ¡°this is unexpected. The golden boy¡¯s out of cryo, stomping around like he owns the place. And the girl¡­¡± His sharp gaze flicked to me, taking in the blood and grime with a faint sneer. ¡°Dripping in what, exactly? Gore? Is this your idea of a joke, Warren? Because from where I¡¯m standing, it looks more like power grab.¡± He crossed his arms, his voice cutting. ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± Rojas stood, her posture rigid with tension as her sharp gaze darted between Lion and Warren. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯d like to know. A year¡ªmaybe less¡ªthat¡¯s how long it¡¯s been since I stepped out of cryo,¡± she said, her voice cold and cutting. ¡°And now there¡¯s another captain¡¯s meeting? No way you¡¯re calling us up this early for anything less than a crisis.¡± She paused, her tone growing sharper. ¡°This is about Phoenix, isn¡¯t it? Lab 3? Don¡¯t bother denying it. There¡¯s no other reason to wake the rest of us so soon, unless you¡¯ve reopened the vault and decided to play God again.¡± Her eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Warren. ¡°We agreed: no waking us before 25 years, no Sol, no reopening Lab 3, and absolutely no Lion, unless this ship was on the verge of falling apart. So, what the hell is happening on Jericho that justifies breaking every damn rule we set?¡± Warren straightened, his shoulders stiff but his voice steady. ¡°The situation changed.¡± ¡°Changed how?¡± Rojas shot back, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. Her hands clenched at her sides, the fury barely contained in her movements. ¡°And don¡¯t you dare tell me it¡¯s something you couldn¡¯t have handled without breaking every fucking agreement we made after Wilks died. This better be good, Warren.¡± Lion stepped forward, his hammer resting lightly on his shoulder, the faint hum of its energy filling the tense air. He scanned the captains, his expression unreadable save for the faint glint in his yellow cybernetic eye. ¡°This isn¡¯t something Warren could¡¯ve handled alone,¡± he began, his voice calm but resonant with authority. ¡°The Hemlock was found¡ªand destroyed. Xenos attacked it. And Lab 3 can¡¯t stay locked forever. Not with what¡¯s coming.¡± The room froze. Rojas¡¯s head snapped toward Warren, her jaw tightening. Lion didn¡¯t stop. ¡°They intercepted a distress signal over a year ago,¡± Lion continued, his tone matter-of-fact. ¡°Warren and Vega plotted our route to the Hemlock¡ªwithout your approval. They found the ship crawling with mutants, but that wasn¡¯t the real surprise. Plasma scorch marks¡ªcenturies old¡ªon a ship that launched before Earth even discovered plasma technology. It was a clue, and Warren acted on it.¡± The captains exchanged uneasy glances. Young¡¯s face drained of color, his hand gripping the edge of his cryo pod as though it might steady him. ¡°Plasma scorch marks?¡± he repeated, his voice tight with unease. ¡°Centuries ahead of Earth? That¡¯s¡­ Are you suggesting the Hemlock was attacked by something not human?¡± Lion¡¯s yellow eye flicked toward him, unreadable. ¡°It¡¯s not a suggestion,¡± he said evenly. ¡°It¡¯s fact. The scorch marks weren¡¯t made by us¡ªor anything human.¡± Young shook his head, his voice trembling. ¡°Then we¡¯re not just dealing with Phoenix or mutants. We¡¯re looking at an entirely different threat, and we¡¯re completely unprepared for it. If there¡¯s something out there capable of that, then Phoenix isn¡¯t just an experiment anymore¡ªit¡¯s survival.¡± Rojas scoffed, crossing her arms as her sharp gaze snapped toward Young. ¡°You don¡¯t seriously believe that, do you?¡± she said, her tone dripping with skepticism. ¡°Plasma burns on an old ship don¡¯t scream aliens¡ªthey scream misdirection. A convenient little story to scare us into giving Sol access to everything Voss locked away.¡± ¡°You think this is a lie?¡± I shot back, my voice rising with frustration before I could stop myself. ¡°You weren¡¯t there. You didn¡¯t see what the Hemlock looked like, the place was¡ª¡± ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t there,¡± Rojas cut in sharply, her tone cold as steel. ¡°And neither was Young or Blackwell. How convenient for all of us on the council that Warren and Vega are the only ones who saw it. If you want to convince us, start by showing us those plasma burns. Until then, it¡¯s nothing more than hearsay.¡± She took a step forward, her glare flicking briefly toward me, cold and calculating. ¡°For all we know, the Hemlock could¡¯ve crossed paths with another colony ship¡ªone with advanced tech we never accounted for. You think alien conspiracies are our biggest problem? Try looking at the one standing right in front of us.¡± Her gaze landed on me, heavy with judgment. ¡°Phoenix is what¡¯s on trial here, not fairy tales about aliens.¡± Young hesitated, his mouth opening as if to argue, but the weight of Rojas¡¯s words¡ªand the silent agreement of Blackwell¡ªhung in the air. Finally, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging in reluctant concession. ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered, his tone brittle. ¡°But if we¡¯re wrong¡ªif this threat is real¡ªit won¡¯t matter what¡¯s locked in Lab 3.¡± Lion¡¯s gaze lingered on Young for a moment, a faint trace of approval breaking through his otherwise impassive expression. ¡°It¡¯s real¡ªand we¡¯re already at war,¡± he said simply. ¡°But that can wait. Right now, this ship is fractured. You¡¯ve carved it into your own little kingdoms, and the cracks are showing. If you think you can keep stalling, you¡¯re dead wrong. Lab 3 is the only way forward¡ªwhether you like it or not.¡± Rojas turned her glare to Lion, her scowl deepening. ¡°Stay out of this, Lion,¡± she snapped, her voice sharp with fury. ¡°This isn¡¯t your decision to make.¡± Then, without missing a beat, she rounded on Warren, her voice rising as her anger sharpened. ¡°And you¡ªyou gambled everything on Phoenix again? Even after Lab 3 failed? You went behind our backs, dragged us toward the Hemlock, and woke her without consulting anyone? What the hell were you thinking, Warren?¡± Young leaned forward, his voice heavy but controlled. ¡°Lab 3 was our attempt to pick up where Julian Voss left off,¡± he said. ¡°We thought we could replicate his work, and we failed. We created a monster, and Wilks paid the price. That was the line we drew. No more experiments. No more Phoenix. So tell us, Warren¡ªwhy is Sol any different?¡± Warren exhaled slowly, his gaze steady as he addressed the room. ¡°Because she¡¯s not Lab 3, and she¡¯s not Hemlock. Yes, I voted with all of you to continue the research back then. I believed in it, and I was wrong. Lab 3 failed because we didn¡¯t understand the virus. Phoenix requires a genetic match¡ªa host capable of adapting to its power without succumbing to mutation. That¡¯s why Lab 3 ended in disaster. But Sol is different. She is the match, her father made it so wither hate it or not.¡± Blackwell¡¯s sneer returned, sharper and colder. ¡°A match? She¡¯s a ticking time bomb, Warren, and you know it. The only difference between her and Wilks is that she hasn¡¯t exploded yet. What makes you so sure she won¡¯t?¡± ¡°She¡¯s already proven it,¡± Warren countered. ¡°She heals faster than any of us could imagine. Her regeneration is stable and controlled¡ªeverything Lab 3 and the Hemlock weren¡¯t. Sol survived Phoenix. She survived the mutants. Wilks didn¡¯t. None of the others did. She¡¯s not just a match; she¡¯s proof that Phoenix works as it was meant to.¡± ¡°And you hid her for how long now?¡± Rojas snapped. ¡°You went behind the council¡¯s back, plotted a course to the Hemlock, and woke her up without consulting any of us. Why?¡± ¡°Because I knew you¡¯d never agree,¡± Warren admitted. ¡°After Lab 3, none of us wanted to touch Phoenix again¡ªI didn¡¯t either. But then we found the Hemlock and received its emergency transmission. What we saw in that distress signal changed everything. The Xeno threat isn¡¯t just a possibility anymore¡ªit¡¯s a reality. And let¡¯s not forget¡ªwe¡¯re all running out of time. Phoenix was supposed to be completed by now. Voss¡¯s death threw everything off course, and we¡¯ve all felt the weight of it. Time hasn¡¯t been kind to any of us. Sol isn¡¯t just our only chance¡ªshe¡¯s the last chance we¡¯ll have to finish what Voss started before it¡¯s too late.¡± Young¡¯s gaze turned skeptical. ¡°And what happens if the side effects show up? You¡¯re asking us to trust her when we know Phoenix isn¡¯t stable.¡± I swallowed, watching Warren square his shoulders, his tone sharpening as he glared back at the captains. ¡°Sol isn¡¯t like the others,¡± he said, his voice carrying a new edge. ¡°We spent decades searching for a viable result after Voss died. Our scientists have nothing to show for it. We¡¯re desperate, and you all know it. She¡¯s the last version Julian ever engineered¡ªthe culmination of everything he learned. She¡¯s not just another experiment; she¡¯s our best¡ªand only¡ªshot at surviving and saving humanity.¡± Rojas didn¡¯t flinch. She pressed forward, her glare unbroken. ¡°You mean the man whose research got Wilks killed?¡± she snapped. ¡°The same man whose experiments turned Lab 3 into a tomb?¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Julian made mistakes,¡± he admitted. ¡°But he also left us a chance¡ªone we all tried to continue in secret after his death. That was what led to Lab 3 and the tragedy that followed. But Sol¡­ she¡¯s the only one who¡¯s proven Phoenix can succeed. If we want to reach Haven in one piece, we need her.¡± Blackwell scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. His gaze flicked toward me, taking in my blood-smeared suit, my mismatched eyes, the jagged canines I couldn¡¯t hide. ¡°Trust her? Look at the mutations. Eyes, hair¡ªhell, her teeth alone look like they belong on a predator. She¡¯s dripping in blood, Warren. If that¡¯s what we can see, who knows what else she¡¯s hiding.¡± My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stand taller, refusing to show how his words rattled me. They had no idea how much I was hiding¡ªmy nightmares, the hunger, the whispering voice carving up my thoughts. My fists clenched at my sides, and I met their stares head-on. ¡°I¡¯m not Wilks,¡± I said, surprising myself with how steady I sounded. ¡°Lab 3 failed because it didn¡¯t have me. I¡¯m not perfect, but I¡¯m here, alive, after everything that should¡¯ve killed me. Whether you trust me or not, I¡¯m not planning to roll over and die.¡± Lion¡¯s single yellow eye flicked in my direction. He paused, letting the moment settle, then spoke as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. ¡°She survived the Hemlock,¡± he said. ¡°That blood on her? Not all hers. The creature that gutted her tore out her throat, but she healed before it could finish. Faster, stronger¡ªeven at her size. None of you would¡¯ve walked away from that.¡± His gaze shifted to the captains. ¡°That alone proves what she can do with Phoenix. She¡¯s living proof her father¡¯s project works.¡± ¡°That¡¯s rich!" Blackwell scoffed. ¡°You don¡¯t even trust her yourself, Lion. You¡¯re here to play cleanup because your master¡¯s gone, and now you¡¯re selling us a miracle.¡± Lion let out a low, rumbling chuckle. ¡°Call it what you want. But she¡¯s here¡ªand so am I. You can waste time arguing, or accept reality: we¡¯re running out of options.¡± Rojas¡¯s jaw clenched. Her gaze swept the room. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, her tone sharp and unyielding. ¡°We¡¯ll vote. But this isn¡¯t just about Sol or Wilks. It¡¯s about you, Lion, and whether we let you stay awake to run this ship. None of us signed up to take orders from Julian Voss¡¯s enforcer.¡± Lion didn¡¯t flinch, his hammer resting casually on his shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t want your job, Rojas,¡± he said, calm but edged with warning. ¡°But don¡¯t mistake that for weakness. If the vote fails, I stay awake under emergency protocol. That¡¯s not a threat¡ªit¡¯s the rules you people signed.¡± He shifted, the faint hum of his armor audible in the quiet. ¡°You¡¯re right to be cautious. Maybe you¡¯re even right not to trust her.¡± His yellow eye flicked briefly to me before turning back to the captains. ¡°But none of you are clean. You made Garin lead scientist over Knight, gambling on ¡®safe¡¯ instead of letting the one who actually understood Phoenix finish the work. And we all saw what Lab 3 became.¡± Lion let his words sink in. ¡°Knight was dangerous, yes¡ªbut you underestimated the cost of shelving her knowledge. Your gamble failed, and you¡¯re scrambling to salvage this mission. This time, you won¡¯t be able to vote your way out of a crisis.¡± Silence fell, the captains exchanging uneasy glances. Finally, Blackwell spoke, his voice cold. ¡°You¡¯re betting we¡¯ll fold¡ªthat somebody here values staying alive over preserving the chain of command.¡± Warren exhaled, stepping forward. ¡°We don¡¯t need you holding onto emergency authority, Lion. I¡¯ll vote to overturn it and restore the council. I won¡¯t keep handing you absolute power. But¡ª¡± he gestured toward me, ¡°¡ªI do agree Sol needs full access to Lab 3. She can pick up where her father left off. That part of your plan I¡¯m willing to support.¡± Lion¡¯s single yellow eye flicked toward him. ¡°Will you now, Warren?¡± He let a note of doubt creep into his voice, just enough to unsettle the room. ¡°How many more lies can this council endure before it tears itself apart?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t bet,¡± Lion continued evenly, turning back to Blackwell. ¡°I calculate. One of you will see that Wilks, Lab 3, the Hemlock, and everything else prove you¡¯re not equipped to handle what¡¯s coming. The Royal Guard is. Whether you like it or not.¡± Young cleared his throat, hesitation coloring his tone. ¡°If we vote unanimously to remove the emergency protocol¡­ what then?¡± Lion tilted his head, the hum of his implants faint in the silence. ¡°Then I step down. The Guard stands down. You get your council back, exactly how you want it. But even one dissenting vote keeps the emergency alive¡ªand me with it.¡± Rojas¡¯s scowl deepened. ¡°You¡¯re playing a dangerous game.¡± ¡°Call it what you will,¡± Lion answered, unyielding. ¡°I¡¯m giving you a choice. If you waste it, you won¡¯t get another. And don¡¯t forget¡ªI have the authority to remove any of you permanently if this fails.¡± The captains glanced at one another. Tension thickened the air, unspoken fears looming. Rojas¡¯s gaze stayed hard, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes. Young looked away, drumming his fingers. Blackwell¡¯s lips thinned in a resentful line. ¡°This isn¡¯t leadership,¡± Rojas snapped. ¡°It¡¯s coercion.¡± Lion¡¯s chuckle was low and sharp. ¡°Call it survival. Argue all you want while aliens tear us apart, or accept what must be done.¡± Warren stepped forward, frustration edging his voice. ¡°Lion¡¯s not wrong. The Xeno threat is real, and so is Lab 3. You know the stakes. Vote¡ªlet Jericho tally it, and let¡¯s finish this.¡± Before anyone moved, Lion raised a gauntleted hand, golden armor catching the light. ¡°There¡¯s one more option,¡± he said, cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°I didn¡¯t wake up to stay in charge. The emergency demanded action, but I don¡¯t want the throne.¡± That admission froze the room. Even Rojas, poised to argue, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ¡°What¡¯s your angle, Lion?¡± He rested his hammer on his shoulder, his single yellow eye sweeping over the captains, glowing faintly like a predator sizing up its prey. ¡°My men and I will return to cryo after I deal with Wilks,¡± he said, his voice steady, each word carrying the weight of unshakable conviction. ¡°We¡¯ll be ready to protect this ship again if needed¡ªbe it from Xenos, mutants, or whatever else is waiting out there. But there¡¯s one condition.¡± Blackwell¡¯s suspicion laced every syllable. ¡°And that is?¡± Lion¡¯s gaze shifted to me. For the first time, his voice held a note that almost sounded like reverence. ¡°Sol gets captain-level clearance,¡± he said. ¡°The same authority Julian Voss held. She continues his work¡ªproperly, with Knight and Garin¡¯s support. No more locked doors or half-measures.¡± A heavy silence followed. The captains exchanged glances, each weighing the cost of Lion¡¯s plan. Eventually, Rojas¡¯s lips curled into a sardonic smile. ¡°You expect us to hand that kind of power to her?¡± she asked, gesturing at me. ¡°A kid covered in blood and barely out of cryo?¡± ¡°She¡¯s more than that,¡± Lion retorted, his tone turning harder. ¡°You¡¯ve all seen what Phoenix can do. She¡¯s the only one who can finish what Voss started, and the only one strong enough to endure it.¡± ¡°Resilience or curse?¡± Young murmured, frowning. ¡°How do we know she won¡¯t follow her father¡¯s path?¡± ¡°She¡¯s not Julian Voss,¡± Lion said simply, ¡°and if you don¡¯t trust her, you¡¯re gambling with everyone¡¯s survival.¡± Blackwell scoffed, leaning away from the console. ¡°And what keeps us from voting you down?¡± Lion smirked faintly. ¡°Because you, of all people, know the truth. If I go, you¡¯re back to nothing but a bickering council¡ªand you might not live to see Haven.¡± The tension climbed, a collective breath held. At last, Rojas stepped forward, eyes cutting through the silence. ¡°I agree,¡± she declared. ¡°Lion¡¯s proposal is the best we¡¯ve got. And I don¡¯t trust Blackwell or Young to hold it together.¡± Blackwell opened his mouth, but Rojas silenced him with a gesture. ¡°Lion¡¯s a soldier, a diplomat, and a leader,¡± she said, almost grudgingly. ¡°He made the hard calls. I won¡¯t risk a vote. Sol gets the clearance, Lion steps down after Wilks is taken care of, and we press on.¡± No one objected. Blackwell shifted uncomfortably, Young stared at the floor. Lion stood tall, seeming to fill the room with his presence. When he spoke again, his voice was unflinching. ¡°Jericho,¡± he said, his tone final. ¡°Grant Sol Voss captain-level clearance. Effective immediately.¡±
Jericho¡¯s voice echoed in the room, calm and unyielding. ¡°Acknowledged. Clearance granted to Sol Voss. Captain-level authority activated.¡± I froze as the words sank in, the weight of the decision settling over me like a tidal wave. My hands clenched at my sides, the whispers stirring faintly in the back of my mind. They see you now, my little Phoenix. You¡¯ve stepped into the fire. Now rise. Lion turned to me, his yellow eye gleaming with something almost akin to pride. ¡°It¡¯s your legacy now, Highness,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t waste it.¡± The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing down on me like the endless corridors of this ship. My clearance matched my father¡¯s now. Access to Jericho¡¯s systems, Lab 3¡¯s sealed data, and Phoenix. Every secret, every mistake¡ªall of it was mine to bear. I wasn¡¯t ready for this¡ªnot the power, not the expectations, and certainly not the truth waiting in Lab 3. I glanced at Lion. His towering form was calm, resolute, as though none of this burden touched him. His words felt heavier than the keys to the kingdom he¡¯d handed me. What¡¯s his endgame? I wondered. Why does he care so much about me stepping into my father¡¯s role? Behind him, the captains were still recovering from cryo, their movements slower, their breathing slightly labored as they adjusted to being awake again. Viper moved between them with practiced efficiency, checking their vitals and offering brief instructions to help them regain their footing. Jericho¡¯s drones hovered nearby, assisting where needed¡ªdispensing water, scanning for signs of stasis fatigue, and ensuring their transition was as seamless as possible. The captains had their own agendas, that much was clear. Back in my father¡¯s lab, they had deferred to him¡ªJulian Voss, the architect of humanity¡¯s survival. But now? They had carved out their own empires aboard Jericho, their authority filling the void his death had left. Each of them seemed more interested in holding onto their power than truly working together. As Rojas straightened, shaking off the last vestiges of cryo-sleep, her sharp gaze swept the room, lingering on me for just a second longer than the others. Blackwell grimaced as a drone offered him a hydration pack, swatting it away with irritation before finally taking it, his usual sneer curling at the edges of his mouth. Young remained silent, still regaining his balance, his brow furrowed as though already calculating his next move. They¡¯ll use you, the whispers coiled in my mind like smoke. They see you as a tool, a pawn. But you¡¯re more than that, little Phoenix. You¡¯re the flame. Burn them if you must. I swallowed hard, the metallic tang of blood faint on my tongue. Doubt churned in my chest, mixing with the whispers until I couldn¡¯t tell where one ended and the other began. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± I asked, quieter than I intended. ¡°What¡¯s your goal, Lion? You¡¯ve been a soldier, a diplomat, a weapon for them. Why hand this to me?¡± Lion tilted his head slightly, his yellow eye gleaming. ¡°Because it was never mine to keep,¡± he said simply. ¡°Your father built this ship, this crew, this mission. He built you. The captains have carved out their fiefdoms, sure. But they don¡¯t own Jericho. Not really. This ship belongs to the Voss name. And you¡¯re the last of it.¡± The last of it. The words hit harder than they should have. I was the final tether to a legacy that had shaped humanity¡¯s survival¡ªtwisted and brutal as it was. I hadn¡¯t asked for it. I hadn¡¯t earned it. And yet, here it was, draped over my shoulders like a shroud. Lion leaned in slightly. ¡°The captains won¡¯t trust you¡ªnot fully. But they¡¯ll respect the name. They have no choice. You¡¯re the only chance they have to outlive the trip to Haven. Don¡¯t waste it.¡± The whispers coiled tighter. They¡¯ll betray you, just like they betrayed him. Burn them first. I forced myself to take a steadying breath, gripping the datapad. ¡°What if they¡¯re right?¡± I asked. ¡°What if I¡¯m not enough?¡± Lion¡¯s expression didn¡¯t soften¡ªhe wasn¡¯t the type. But there was something almost reassuring in his tone as he hefted his hammer. ¡°You survived the Hemlock. You survived Phoenix. That¡¯s more than enough for me.¡± With that, Lion turned toward the doors leading to Lab 3, his hammer humming faintly. ¡°Time to deal with Wilks,¡± he said, his voice steady. ¡°You¡¯ll see what your father left behind soon enough. Wake Knight up, Viper.¡± As he spoke, a line of sleek drones floated silently into the room, each carrying a datapad. They stopped in front of the captains, extending mechanical arms to present the devices. The captains exchanged wary glances before reluctantly taking the datapads. A faint hum accompanied the screens coming to life, displaying pages of detailed reports, schematics, and mission logs¡ªdata that had been locked away by Jericho. The visuals of the Hemlock¡¯s hull, scarred with plasma burns, flickered alongside stark images of twisted mutants and snapshots of decrypted distress signals. It was everything Warren and Vega had withheld, laid bare. Rojas¡¯s eyes narrowed as she scanned the information, her jaw tightening with every line she read. Young¡¯s hands trembled slightly as he held the datapad, his expression darkening as he lingered on the images of the Hemlock and the fragments of Xeno data. Even Blackwell, usually quick with a cutting remark, remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line as he skimmed through the documents. ¡°They¡¯ve been hiding this,¡± Rojas muttered under her breath, her voice laced with barely restrained anger. She shot a glare toward Warren and Vega before turning back to her datapad. ¡°Every bit of it. And you expect us to trust your judgment after this?¡± ¡°Trust isn¡¯t the point,¡± Lion said, his tone firm as he strode to the doors. Sliding his helmet into place with a sharp click, his voice deepened through the modulator. ¡°Survival is. You¡¯ve seen the mutants, the Hemlock, and the plasma burns. If that doesn¡¯t convince you, nothing will.¡± Without another word, he left, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor. Rojas opened her mouth to retort, but Young spoke first, his voice unsteady. ¡°If this is real¡­¡± he trailed off, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen of his datapad, as though staring hard enough might summon answers. ¡°If these plasma burns were caused by something alien, then we¡¯re already out of time. Whatever Voss was working on¡ªit might be the only chance we have against this.¡± Blackwell snorted, more to Young than anyone else. His voice was low but cutting, filled with disdain. ¡°Or it¡¯s just another excuse to shove Phoenix down our throats. Convenient, isn¡¯t it? A big, scary alien threat to justify unlocking Lab 3 and waking up Knight.¡± He tossed his datapad onto a nearby table with a sharp clatter, crossing his arms as he leaned back. ¡°I¡¯m not buying it.¡± Viper, standing near Knight¡¯s pod, tapped at the console with deliberate precision. The faint hiss of pressurized seals broke the tense silence, signaling the start of Knight¡¯s revival process. The room seemed to hold its breath as frost-covered glass slowly began to clear, revealing the figure within. My breath caught as the frost dissipated entirely, unveiling Dr. Emilia Knight. Her almond-shaped eyes snapped open, dark and sharp, as though she had never been asleep. The faint glow of her silver irises caught the harsh light, giving her an unnerving, almost predatory air.
Her pale skin was flawless, her jet-black hair falling in a precise, asymmetrical cut that framed her sharp features. She stepped out of the pod with a grace that felt unnatural, every movement smooth and deliberate. The black suit she wore clung to her lean frame, the high-collared lab coat over it shimmering faintly with embedded technology I couldn¡¯t begin to understand. My stomach twisted. She doesn¡¯t age, just like me. But not because of Phoenix. My father gave her that choice, didn¡¯t he? The whispers stirred, taunting. She helped make you, my dear princess. My ever-loyal advisor. Her ambition has always been a thorn in my side. Her gaze locked onto mine, cold and piercing. There was no warmth in it, no recognition, only the calculating stare I remembered too well¡ªthe same one that had followed me through countless experiments, through the sterile glow of the lab. That look had always made me feel small, like a specimen under a microscope, a subject to be cataloged and dissected. The hiss of the containment doors opening behind me made me flinch, but I kept my eyes on her. Lab 3 waited, its secrets pressing against my mind, but in that moment, it was Knight¡ªsilent, watching¡ªwho felt like the greater threat. A knot of fear twisted in my chest, sharp and deep. It was the same fear I¡¯d felt as a child, trapped under her cold, clinical gaze, knowing she held control over my body, my pain, my future. It was a fear I¡¯d thought I¡¯d grown past, but here it was again, clawing its way to the surface. Her silver eyes narrowed slightly, a faint flicker of amusement¡ªor was it disdain?¡ªcrossing her face. She didn¡¯t speak, but the silence felt heavier than words. She didn¡¯t need to say anything to make me feel like that small, trembling girl again. I straightened, forcing myself to hold her gaze even as my fists clenched at my sides. My nails bit into my palms, grounding me. I wasn¡¯t that child anymore. I couldn¡¯t afford to be. My father¡¯s voice echoed faintly in my mind, steady and sharp, cutting through the rising panic. You¡¯re stronger than this, my little Phoenix. You¡¯ll prove it. Or you¡¯ll burn trying. Chapter 12 : Lab 3 Awaits Knight¡¯s silver eyes glinted with something sharp and unsettling as she stepped forward, her movements as fluid and precise as I remembered. She looked at me like a relic under glass, her gaze dissecting me, as though I¡¯d never left her lab. She didn¡¯t even flinch at the gore that covered me, her expression as composed as ever. I had no doubt she¡¯d been updated by Jericho, like Lion¡ªbut to what extent? That, I needed to find out. ¡°You¡¯ve changed,¡± she said at last, her voice calm, clinical, devoid of warmth. ¡°Julian would¡¯ve been¡­ surprised.¡± Her words landed harder than I expected, though I kept my expression locked down. My fists curled tight, nails biting into my palms until the faint sting of blood grounded me. I wasn¡¯t going to give her the satisfaction. Not now. Not ever again. ¡°I doubt that,¡± I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. ¡°He planned all of this, didn¡¯t he?¡± Her lips curved into a thin smile that didn¡¯t touch her eyes. ¡°Planned? Oh, no. Julian never planned. He calculated.¡± She tilted her head, the sharpness of her stare like a scalpel. ¡°And yet, here you are. Captain-level clearance, no less. Quite the leap for someone who used to hide under lab tables to avoid his tests.¡± The phantom sting of needles and scalpels surged in my memory. My teeth clenched. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice,¡± I shot back. ¡°And I didn¡¯t hide very well, did I? You and my father made sure of that.¡± Her smile didn¡¯t falter. If anything, it sharpened. ¡°Choice,¡± she mused, almost to herself. ¡°Such an interesting word. But what choice do any of us have, really, Sol? You think I wanted to spend years perfecting your father¡¯s mistakes? No. But we did what was necessary¡ªwhat humanity demanded. So maybe you have grown, but I know you¡¯re still that scared little girl crying over her first implant.¡± Her words struck like a slap, cold and cruel. I could almost feel the operating table beneath me again, the sterile lab lights blinding, the scent of antiseptic suffocating. My stomach twisted, but I refused to flinch. ¡°Don¡¯t justify it,¡± I said, my voice cracking with anger. ¡°You didn¡¯t care about humanity. You cared about proving you were right, about proving you deserved to stand next to him. When in reality, you were just riding his coattails. How¡¯s your work gone without him? Finding a new victim in Wilks?¡± Her gaze flickered, just for a second¡ªan emotion, buried too quickly to name. When she spoke, her tone was even colder. ¡°That¡¯s rich, coming from a lab rat. You¡¯re only standing here because of him. And because of me. Don¡¯t forget that, no matter how much you want to. You¡¯re nothing but a genetic sample taken from the greatest mind to ever live¡ªwell, two minds. Or did you forget who birthed you?¡± The air between us froze. My chest tightened, but I met her gaze without blinking. ¡°You will never be my mother,¡± I hissed, my voice trembling with barely restrained rage. ¡°And I will finish what you failed to. You¡¯ll help me, because, like you said, we don¡¯t have a choice. So shut your mouth before I rip your fucking throat out.¡± Her smirk faltered¡ªjust for a heartbeat¡ªbut then she let out a soft, humorless laugh. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re so much more like him than you¡¯ll ever admit,¡± she murmured. ¡°But by all means, let¡¯s go. Take a look. You¡¯ll find what Wilks saw¡ªwhat he became. If you¡¯re lucky, you might even survive without becoming a monster. But look at yourself, Sol. Covered in gore, reeking of blood. You¡¯re already halfway there.¡± The hunger stirred at her words, a beast clawing at the edges of my mind. My breathing quickened, and I fought to push it down. She doesn¡¯t know what she¡¯s talking about. She¡¯s just trying to break you.
¡°Is that supposed to scare me?¡± I spat, though my voice wavered, betraying the turmoil bubbling beneath. My fists curled tighter at my sides, nails digging into my palms until the sting of pain turned to warmth. Blood trickled down to my knuckles in thin, crimson lines, pooling in the palm of my hand. I forced the next words out, sharp and steady despite the tremor threatening to crack through. ¡°It¡¯s you who should fear me.¡± Knight tilted her head, her silver eyes catching the light with a faint glint of amusement. A slow, calculating smile curved her lips. ¡°Fear you?¡± she echoed, her voice soft, almost indulgent. ¡°No, Sol. I¡¯ll never fear you.¡±
Her expression hardened, her smile dripping with condescension. ¡°Pity, though? That¡¯s different. I pity you because you¡¯re his legacy. But legacies are fragile things, Sol. Better left to people who understood him¡ªhis equals, his lovers, the ones he trusted with his vision. Not the child he shielded from it.¡± The whispers surged, sharp and mocking. She¡¯ll break you again, little Phoenix. You know she will. But you need her. You always did. I pressed my nails deeper into my palms, grounding myself, but the pain steadied me. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of you,¡± I said, my voice low and steady, then let it sharpen, slicing through the tension. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of someone who spread their legs and called it loyalty.¡± Her smirk faded slightly, her expression sharpening. ¡°You should be,¡± she said simply. Then, after a moment of silence, she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. ¡°Do you know what your father called you, Sol? His little Phoenix. Rising from the ashes of failure after failure. But you¡¯re not a flame. You¡¯re just a spark. And sparks¡­ they burn out.¡± My breath hitched, anger bubbling over, sharp and hot, threatening to spill out. The whispers fanned the flames. Good, my little princess. Sometimes you must keep your vassals in line. She will follow¡ªeven if you need to tighten her leash. But I forced the voices back, my fists shaking with the effort. ¡°I¡¯m not that child anymore,¡± I said firmly. ¡°And you¡¯re not as clever as you think. I think I see a wrinkle on your face. Only one of us has Phoenix, after all.¡± The words were petty, but they hit their mark. I saw the faintest flicker in her expression¡ªanger, maybe even resentment. It was gone in an instant, but I knew it had struck a chord. She was vain, clinging to her carefully preserved youth. My father hadn¡¯t perfected immortality for her. Maybe he had for me. The thought gave me grim satisfaction. Still, the ache of loss twisted inside me, sharp and unwelcome. For all his cruelty, my father had always been there. He was a Voss¡ªbrilliant, relentless, larger than life. His presence had loomed over everything, a constant shadow that I couldn¡¯t shake even now. But him? I missed. Even when his experiments hurt me, even when I cried for him to stop, at least he was there. This woman? She was nothing but a whore who birthed me, nothing but Knight. She could never be a Voss. And I hated how much I looked like her. I saw her almond-shaped eyes and sharp features reflected back at me in every mirror, a cruel reminder of what I came from. Before the changes, I could¡¯ve been mistaken for her¡ªsleek black hair, the same delicate jawline. But the virus had given me an escape. My white hair, my crimson eye¡ªthese marked me as something different, something apart. Perhaps that was the one gift my father¡¯s work had given me: a way to shed the resemblance to her. I straightened, letting the silence stretch between us. ¡°You¡¯ll help me,¡± I said coldly, ¡°because you don¡¯t have a choice. And you¡¯ll do it knowing you¡¯ll always be second to him. You¡¯ll always be Knight.¡± Her silver eyes narrowed, her voice soft but laced with venom. ¡°We¡¯ll see what that serum he gave you is really worth. The virus was always unstable.¡± ¡°Yes, we will,¡± I said, my voice sharp. ¡°Now let¡¯s see what you and Garin fucked up in Lab 3. Lion is on his way, but I¡¯m sure Jericho already told you that, cunt.¡± Knight¡¯s smirk returned, though the tension in her posture betrayed her. ¡°You¡¯ll regret dismissing me, Sol. The truth in that lab is more than you¡¯re ready to face. It¡¯s your future, my dear daughter.¡± I froze for the briefest moment, the word daughter hitting me like a knife between the ribs. But I didn¡¯t flinch. I refused to give her that satisfaction. ¡°I¡¯d expect nothing from someone who managed to be surpassed by Garin, of all people,¡± I snapped, my voice dripping with mockery. The captains promoting him over her had once seemed absurd to me, but now? Now it felt like poetic justice. She had been reduced to an afterthought, just like I¡¯d been. And that word¡ªdaughter¡ªcoming from her was a joke. A taunt. She might have birthed me, but she¡¯d never been my mother. She was Knight, nothing more, nothing less. I turned sharply, each step deliberate, forcing myself to focus on the door ahead. The anger in my chest burned hot, sharp, and relentless. Whatever waited in Lab 3, it would be a relief compared to this. I had hoped, somewhere deep down, that maybe she could help me¡ªthat she might have answers to the questions clawing at my mind. But now? Now she has to help me, whether she wants to or not, because Lion will make her. Behind me, I felt her gaze burning into my back, cold and searing. I didn¡¯t look. I couldn¡¯t. The air between us was too thick with tension, the kind that promised this wasn¡¯t over. I released my nails from my palms, feeling the sting of torn skin as it healed instantly. The ache stirred the hunger, the constant gnawing beast within me. But I pushed it down, keeping it at bay. Not now. Not here. For once, I was in control. The captains had already begun leaving, their brisk movements aided by drones ferrying reports and supplies to their private quarters. Vega and Warren had left with Rojas, leaving the room draped in a stillness that felt heavier than it should. The only sounds were the soft hum of the drones and the faint rustling of reports as Viper moved through her work with meticulous precision. Her measured movements were almost hypnotic, a soothing rhythm that clashed with the sting still lingering in the air from Knight¡¯s biting words. It was the kind of quiet that wasn¡¯t peaceful¡ªit was waiting. Viper, however, stayed by Knight¡¯s side, silently monitoring her biometrics. The soft glow of the display reflected off her face, her expression unreadable as she focused on the fluctuating lines and numbers. The faint beeping of the medical scanner and the occasional rustle of Viper adjusting the monitor were the only sounds to break the oppressive quiet. The cold floor pressed against the soles of my feet, the dried blood flaking off in patches as I jogged to catch up to Lion. Behind us, Knight and Viper were still in the med bay. Knight¡¯s cybernetic enhancements might let her recover from cryo faster than the captains, but even she needed time. The whispers pressed insistently at the edges of my thoughts, quiet but unrelenting. Go ahead, little Phoenix. Look behind the door. See what my ever-loyal student has been hiding. Lion was already ahead, his towering frame moving with calm, deliberate purpose. His hammer rested easily over one shoulder, humming softly¡ªa reminder of the destruction it promised to unleash in Lab 3. ¡°Stay close, Highness,¡± he said over his shoulder, his voice steady but weighted with warning. ¡°And don¡¯t let that woman get under your skin. She¡¯s got uses, but your father knew better than to make her a Voss.¡± I snorted softly, fingers brushing the jagged edge of my torn suit. ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± I muttered, though his words gnawed at me. My father and Knight had a complicated history, but her being a carrier meant nothing. I might have her DNA, but she was not my family. She was not a Voss. The reinforced door to Lab 3 loomed ahead as we descended deeper into the ship. I hadn¡¯t been here in weeks¡ªnot since my training sessions with Reid. Now, the air grew heavier, oppressive, the faint metallic tang I¡¯d grown used to tainted with a sour, putrid undertone that set my teeth on edge. Lion stopped in front of the sealed door, his hammer shifting into both hands. ¡°Give it a try. You¡¯ve got the clearance now.¡± I hesitated, glancing at the scanner. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we wait for backup?¡± He chuckled, low and steady. ¡°No need. This is my fight.¡± With a sharp breath, I pressed my hand to the scanner. A faint buzz passed through my skin as it verified my identity. Jericho¡¯s monotone voice broke the silence, clinical and cold. ¡°Access granted. Warning: Entity classified as ¡®Failed Hydra¡¯ active. Proceed with caution.¡± The door groaned as it began to open, reluctant and sluggish, like the ship itself was begging us to reconsider. A wave of damp, acrid air rushed out, choking and oppressive. The stench of rot, bile, and scorched metal clawed at my throat, and I stumbled back, gagging. It was pitch black inside. Lion¡¯s hammer flared to life, arcs of violent energy casting jagged shadows against the hallway walls. ¡°Breathe through it, Highness,¡± he said, his voice calm, edged with unshaken resolve. ¡°It¡¯s only going to get worse.¡± ¡°Great,¡± I muttered, stepping forward on bare feet, the damp floor squelching beneath me. Revulsion rippled through me at every step, but I forced myself to follow Lion¡¯s steady march. ¡°Must be nice to have a helmet.¡± I added bitterly. Jericho¡¯s monotone voice echoed from the panel beside the door. ¡°Warning: Entity classified as ¡®Hydra¡¯ active. Proceed with extreme caution.¡± ¡°Lovely,¡± I said, sarcasm thinly masking the panic creeping into my voice. The drones entered ahead of us, their beams slicing through the darkness, revealing horrors I wasn¡¯t ready to see. The walls were alive. Bio-organic growths coated every surface, pulsating faintly as if the room itself was breathing. Thick, viscous fluid oozed from the growths, dripping to the floor with an irregular, nauseating rhythm. Deep gouges marred the metal walls, each claw mark jagged and deliberate, telling a story of something violent, something desperate to escape. Then I saw it. In the far corner of the lab, nestled among the writhing growths, was a monstrosity. It was enormous, serpentine and muscular, over twenty feet long. Its limbs and tentacles fused and split in grotesque patterns, writhing as though alive with their own twisted consciousness. Two pairs of glowing red eyes blinked open, fixing on us with a ravenous, calculating hunger. They were not yellow, as I had expected¡ªbut red, crimson like the single eye that haunted my own reflection. A jolt of recognition shot through me, cold and nauseating. This wasn¡¯t just a monster created by Hydra. It was a mockery, a twisted echo of something I didn¡¯t want to understand, this was Phoenix.Stolen novel; please report. Lion¡¯s hammer crackled with renewed energy as he adjusted his stance. ¡°Stay behind me, Highness,¡± he commanded, his voice sharp. ¡°This thing has Wilks¡¯s mind long gone and Hydra¡¯s body¡ªregeneration, adaptation, and instinct. It¡¯s not just alive; it¡¯s a bio-weapon like no other.¡± The creature dragged itself forward, its bulk scraping against the floor with a sickening wet sound. A gaping maw split open across its torso, revealing rows upon rows of jagged, bloodstained teeth. Black saliva dripped, hissing as it hit the floor. ¡°Kill¡­ me¡­¡± Its voice was warped and wet, broken beyond recognition. ¡°Kill¡­ me¡­ so¡­ hungry¡­¡± It lunged. Lion¡¯s jetpack roared to life, propelling him forward with terrifying speed. His hammer arced in a blinding strike, its energy pulsing as it collided with the creature¡¯s skull. The impact obliterated the top half of its head, spraying black ichor across the lab. The ichor hissed and smoked where it landed, burning through the bio-organic filth like acid. Before I could process the destruction, the creature¡¯s body spasmed violently. Bone and sinew twisted grotesquely as its skull began to knit itself back together with horrifying speed. New tendrils burst from its sides, lashing out with brutal efficiency. One coiled around Lion¡¯s hammer, another slashed at his torso, but his plasma shield flared to life, deflecting the attack in a burst of light and heat. Lion didn¡¯t falter. The hammer¡ªone of my father¡¯s last creations¡ªwas more than a weapon. ¡°Mass is just a suggestion,¡± my father had said, pride glinting in his eyes. With its miniature fusion reactor at its core, the hammer could shift its weight from feather-light to several tons in an instant, delivering devastation with each strike. Watching Lion wield it now was like witnessing a storm condensed into human form. Lion swung again, the hammer¡¯s glowing head shifting mid-strike. It seemed to move impossibly fast, lightening as it arced through the air. Then, just before impact, its mass increased exponentially, crashing into the creature¡¯s shoulder with the force of a meteor. Flesh and bone exploded outward, molten chunks spraying across the room. But the creature adapted. Its body shrank as it burned through biomass, regenerating with sickening speed. Smaller, more agile limbs sprouted, each tipped with jagged claws or gnashing mouths. Tentacles whipped through the air, probing Lion¡¯s armor for weaknesses¡ªstriking at seams near his neck, armpits, and lower back. One limb lunged for the gap beneath Lion¡¯s helmet, jagged teeth snapping inches from his throat. Another raked at his back, the claws sparking off his armor before his plasma shield flared, reducing it to smoking fragments. Still, the monster pressed on. Lion moved with mechanical precision, each dodge, block, and counterstrike perfectly timed. A tentacle whipped toward his side, but he pivoted smoothly, his hammer obliterating the limb with a single decisive blow. The creature¡¯s attacks grew more frenzied. Acidic bile sprayed from newly-formed glands along its sides, hissing as it ate into the lab floor and walls. Veins swelled grotesquely across its torso, bursting to release volleys of quill-like needles in every direction. Lion¡¯s shield expanded, absorbing the onslaught with a crackling hum as he pivoted, his hammer glowing hotter with every swing. ¡°It¡¯s hungry!¡± I shouted, my voice trembling. ¡°It¡¯s eating itself to stay up!¡± Lion didn¡¯t respond. Flames erupted from his wrist-mounted flamethrower, a roaring inferno that engulfed the acid and needles mid-air. The fire swept over the creature¡¯s writhing form, searing its limbs as it shrieked in agony. Chunks of its body began to slough off, blackened and smoking, the intense heat forcing it to burn through its biomass even faster. The creature staggered, its movements growing jerkier, more desperate as the flames continued to eat away at it. Its screeches reached an ear-splitting pitch, the high, wet sound of something pushed beyond its limits. With every burst of flame, the monster seemed to shrink further, its form collapsing in on itself as Lion¡¯s relentless assault robbed it of the mass it needed to fight. Lion focus was absolute. He deflected a spray of resinous bile that solidified into jagged crystal growths on the walls, then severed three writhing limbs with a single sweeping strike. Ichor sprayed in wide arcs, sizzling where it landed. The lab was becoming a war zone of acid, spikes, and shattered bio-growths. The creature compressed itself again, its limbs retracting tightly against its body before launching forward like a spiked projectile. Lion twisted mid-air, his plasma shield flaring to absorb the brunt of the impact. Sparks and heat exploded outward as the shield held firm, and in the next instant, Lion countered with a devastating downward strike. The hammer¡¯s head, glowing white-hot, smashed into the creature¡¯s torso, shattering it in a fiery explosion of molten tissue. Despite the devastating blow, the creature clawed forward, its movements frantic and jerky, its body shrinking with every second. It was desperate, starving, ravenous¡ªits very existence screaming for sustenance, a mirror of my own primal hunger. Its glowing red eyes locked onto me, their burning intensity narrowing into a singular, unrelenting focus. ¡°Fresh¡­ meat¡­¡± it hissed, its wet, guttural voice trembling with desperation. Black ichor dripped from its cracked, jagged maw, sizzling as it hit the floor. The words weren¡¯t just a threat¡ªthey were a visceral plea, a feral need for biomass to rebuild its failing form. It lunged, skeletal limbs trembling, its shredded body shaking with the effort, every movement a testament to its ravenous hunger. I froze, the words stabbing through me like a physical blow. In a flash, one of its remaining limbs shot out, faster than I could react. Panic seized me as the tentacle whipped toward me, its jagged mouth gaping wide to strike. At the last moment, one of Jericho¡¯s drones surged between us, its plasma shield flaring to intercept the attack. The limb struck the shield with a deafening crack, sending shockwaves through the room. The shield held for a heartbeat longer, but the creature¡¯s strength was too much. The drone exploded in a shower of sparks and molten fragments, its protective field collapsing just as the jagged limb came within inches of my face. I stumbled backward, hitting the ground hard as my breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred, and panic gripped me like a vice. My eyes squeezed shut, and for a split second, I thought it was over. Hot bile rose in my throat, shame and terror mixing in equal measure as warmth spread across my thighs. A guttural hiss filled my ears, and when I dared to open my eyes, the creature''s gaping mouth was nearly on me, jagged teeth dripping black ichor that sizzled where it fell. My breath hitched, time grinding to a slow, sickening crawl as its maw hovered inches from my face. Then, with a sound like thunder, the beast was yanked away. ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Lion growled, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. One massive hand gripped the creature¡¯s writhing limb mid-strike, his golden armor gleaming despite the ichor streaked across it. The creature screeched, its remaining limbs thrashing wildly, but Lion didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Get behind the drones¡ªI¡¯m ending this,¡± he ordered, his tone calm yet laced with a fierce exhilaration. His hammer glowed brighter, the heat radiating from it making the air around him shimmer with unbearable intensity. With a mighty heave, Lion hurled the creature skyward. As the beast spiraled upward, a torrent of searing flames erupted from Lion¡¯s wrist-mounted flamethrower, engulfing the creature in a blazing inferno. The air vibrated with the force of his throw as the flaming mass smashed into the ceiling with a wet, bone-crunching impact. Flames consumed its writhing form, molten chunks of flesh raining down, sizzling as they hit the scorched floor. He jumped to meet it, his boots flaring to life with a roar, propelling him upward like a golden comet. His now flaming hammer was raised high, the glowing head pulsating with raw energy that seemed to hum through the air. The creature hurtled toward him, its massive maw gaping wide, jagged teeth snapping hungrily even as flames consumed its flesh, molten chunks trailing in its wake. Without hesitation, Lion met it head-on. With a fierce roar of his own, he drove his hammer deep into the creature¡¯s mouth, the impact shaking the room as the unstoppable force collided with the ravenous monstrosity. The creature¡¯s jaws clamped down around the weapon with a sickening crunch, black ichor spilling from its maw as it thrashed violently. Lion didn¡¯t falter. The fusion core within his hammer pulsed, the head radiating the raw, blinding power of a miniature star. The air around them seemed to ignite, heat and energy exploding outward in an unstoppable, final strike. ¡°Burn,¡± Lion growled, his voice low and final. The hammer detonated. The lab was consumed in a blinding flash of light and heat. Flames roared through the creature¡¯s body, consuming it from within. Its screams reached a deafening crescendo, an inhuman wail that made my ears ring even through the drones¡¯ shields. Sparks erupted as the drones fell one by one, their glowing shells melting into pools of slag. The last drone held out, its shield flickering and cracking, just enough to protect me from the worst of the blast. Even with the shield, a wave of blistering heat surged over my exposed skin. Pain flared instantly¡ªmy shoulders, face, and midriff searing under the intensity. I stumbled, clutching my side as a hiss of agony escaped my lips. Before the pain could fully register, my skin began to heal, the sharp sting giving way to the grotesque crawl of regeneration. Charred tissue flaked away, replaced by fresh, raw skin. The hunger followed, sharp and insistent, twisting in my stomach like a blade. When the light faded, the lab was silent, save for the faint crackle of flames and the soft hum of Jericho¡¯s drones beginning their cleanup. Lion stood at the center of the destruction, his hammer raised high, arcs of energy crackling faintly around its head. He tore his helmet free, tossing it aside with a metallic clang, and threw back his head, roaring like some victorious beast. The sound wasn¡¯t human¡ªit was primal, feral, and thundered through the lab like a storm. For a moment, his singular yellow eye blazed with something raw and unfiltered. Joy, perhaps. I couldn¡¯t look away. For the first time, the immovable, stoic captain of the Royal Guard felt alive. Not just a machine in golden armor. Alive. He lowered his hammer slowly, the head still radiating faint heat, and looked down at what remained of Wilks. The smoldering ruin was unrecognizable¡ªash, gore, and faint traces of charred bone. The bio-organic growths on the walls were scorched black, the once-pulsing veins now brittle and shriveled. ¡°Wilks has been dealt with, Highness,¡± Lion said, his voice steady, as if this were just another day¡¯s work. He kicked the remnants of the creature, scattering its remains with a dull splatter. ¡°Now you can have the drones clean this place up and finish your father¡¯s work. So you don¡¯t end up like this thing.¡± I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. The weight of everything hit me harder than I wanted to admit. God damn it. Not again. The squelch of my suit as I tried to steady myself was a cruel reminder, heat rising in my face as I pushed it out of my mind. The monster¡¯s eye had been red¡ªcrimson, like my own¡ªnot yellow, like Lion¡¯s. That fact wouldn¡¯t leave my mind, twisting and churning like a thorn I couldn¡¯t pull free. What connection could there be between them? My gaze flicked to Lion, standing tall and untouchable, his singular yellow eye glowing with triumph. He didn¡¯t even look human in that moment. More than a man. More like a force of nature. And then there¡¯s me, I thought bitterly. If Lion¡¯s strength was a shield, then what the hell was the yellow-eyed monster? It wasn¡¯t like this grotesque, mindless abomination we had just faced. No, the yellow-eyed monster had been something else. Calculated. Deliberate. And far worse. Was it even human? Was it real? Could it have been something else entirely? A shiver crept down my spine. A damn alien? The questions kept coming, pressing against me, threatening to spiral out of control. None of them had answers, and that was worse than the questions themselves. My stomach churned as I forced myself to look away from the ruin, the stench of burnt ichor clawing at the back of my throat. Either way, I will not become that thing, I thought fiercely, the resolve settling in my chest like steel. I¡¯ll fight it. Whatever it takes, I won¡¯t lose myself. But Wilks¡ªwhat had made him like that? Was it Phoenix? My father¡¯s serum, the one that gave me this cursed regeneration? The red eye, so much like my own, couldn¡¯t just be a coincidence. Or¡­ was it Hydra? The word hovered in my mind like a shadow I couldn¡¯t fully grasp, something I¡¯d heard in passing, something dangerous. What was Hydra? How could it twist someone into that? My knowledge of it was patchy at best, a few scattered mentions in whispers or buried documents. But it could wait. Hydra could wait.
The questions pressed down on me, heavy and unrelenting, tightening my chest until it was hard to breathe. I should ask Jericho to scan for the yellow-eyed monster again¡ªwith my new clearance, I might finally uncover the answers I need. But the thought sent a shiver crawling down my spine. Jericho wouldn¡¯t lie to me¡­ would it? Either way, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m ready for the truth. Not yet. The hum of approaching drones snapped me out of my thoughts. They floated into the lab in eerie formation, their mechanical limbs extending with calculated precision. Their lights sliced through the smoky haze, illuminating the smoldering remains of Wilks and the grotesque bio-organic growths clinging to the walls. One drone hovered over the scorched remains of Wilks, extending a sample collector that carefully extracted fragments of charred tissue. Another moved along the walls, its plasma emitter flaring as it incinerated the remaining bio-growths. The claw marks gouged into the walls shimmered faintly as Jericho¡¯s nano-bots swarmed over them, liquid-metal efficiency smoothing the damage, erasing all traces of the carnage. Jericho¡¯s voice echoed through the lab, cold and clinical. ¡°Specimens cataloged. Initiating full sterilization.¡± I stood frozen, transfixed as the battlefield transformed before my eyes. The chaos that had consumed the room moments ago was being erased, replaced by cold, sterile order. The claw marks vanished, the ash was swept away, and the walls gleamed as though nothing had ever happened. Even Jericho¡¯s drones hadn¡¯t been enough to stop that thing without loss, but here they excelled at cleaning if not combat. My gaze lingered on the shattered remains of the drone that had shielded me, its fragments scattered and melted into molten shrapnel. Its plasma shield, its armor¡ªnone of it had been enough. But Lion had been. Single-handedly, he¡¯d done what nothing else could. He hadn¡¯t just defeated it; he¡¯d protected me.
¡°You have nineteen other royal guards awake, and yet you chase glory every single time,¡± Knight said, her tone clipped and biting. ¡°Julian never should¡¯ve made you that gold armor. Your head¡¯s gotten too big for it.¡± Lion turned to her slowly, his helmet clicking into place with a faint hiss of pressurized air. For a moment, he said nothing, the tension stretching taut between them. Then, a deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from him, calm and unshaken. ¡°Big enough to deal with this alone, wasn¡¯t it?¡± he said, his tone edged with humor as he hefted his hammer onto his shoulder. Knight scoffed, clearly irritated at how easily he dismissed her. ¡°Typical,¡± she muttered, her silver eyes narrowing. Viper¡¯s voice cut in, cool and composed. ¡°She¡¯s not entirely wrong, Lion. This was reckless. You should¡¯ve called for backup from another guard. It would¡¯ve been smarter¡ªand safer.¡± Lion laughed again, shaking his head. ¡°And let someone else have the fun? No thanks. I needed the fight. Besides,¡± he added, his voice lightening, ¡°we¡¯re about to go back into cryo. What¡¯s the harm in shaking off the rust?¡± Knight rolled her eyes, her smirk twisting into something sharper as she turned her gaze to me. ¡°And you,¡± she said, her voice dripping with disdain. ¡°You need to study. Bioengineering, physics, genetic sequencing¡ªwhatever your father left behind isn¡¯t going to decipher itself. I¡¯ll upload everything to your datapad. But first¡­¡± She wrinkled her nose theatrically, taking a deliberate step back. ¡°Take a damn shower. You¡¯re covered in ash and gore, and¡ª¡± Her eyes flicked downward, the smirk returning with a cruel edge. ¡°Oh, how nostalgic. You¡¯ve gone and wet yourself like a little girl in your Daddy¡¯s lab again, haven¡¯t you?¡± She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. ¡°Must be nice to relive those memories. Truly poetic.¡± Her words hit like a slap, and my fists curled at my sides. The hunger clawed at my chest, sharp and insistent, my healing draining whatever reserves I had left. The whispers stirred, urging me to lash out. Not now. Not here. I forced the beast back down, my teeth clenched even as they grew. Viper stepped forward, her sharp gaze cutting between me and Knight. ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± she said, her tone calm but edged with warning. ¡°Keep pushing, Knight, and I might just let her rip you to shreds. She¡¯s starving. Do you really want to see how much she¡¯s holding back?¡± Knight blinked, her smirk faltering for a split second before she recovered. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, waving Viper off dismissively. ¡°But don¡¯t come crying to me when she loses control. She was always just a test subject, no matter how much Julian pretended otherwise. Brilliant as he was, even he let sentiment cloud his judgment when it came to his precious little princess.¡± Lion stepped between us, his voice breaking the tension. ¡°Come, Highness,¡± he said, his tone lighter now. ¡°You need food. Knight needs time to prepare this lab. I need to speak with the captains, and then I¡¯ll be heading back into cryo with the others. If you need anything, just ask Jericho.¡± As I moved toward the door, Lion¡¯s voice stopped me. ¡°One more thing,¡± he said, turning back to Knight. His tone dropped, low and serious. ¡°You know what¡¯s expected of you, Emilia. And you know what will happen if you don¡¯t comply.¡± For a moment, Knight held his gaze, her silver eyes locking with his visor. She didn¡¯t respond, but the weight of her silence spoke volumes. She gave a curt nod, her jaw tight. Lion nodded, satisfied, before motioning for me to follow. ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here, Highness.¡± I didn¡¯t respond, the hunger clouding my thoughts as I stumbled into the corridor. The recycled air hit my face, cool and sharp, and the whispers in my mind began to fade. My thoughts narrowed to a singular focus. Food first. Then answers. If I¡¯m ready. Maybe after a shower and a drink strong enough to drown tonight¡¯s nightmares. Lion would be in cryo soon. The strongest person on this ship, locked away again. Untouchable. Would the ship feel emptier without him? More exposed? My fists tightened at the thought, though I wasn¡¯t sure why. What happens if something worse than Wilks shows up? Could I handle it? Could anyone? The questions pressed at the edge of my mind, but the gnawing hunger tore through them before I could answer. I don¡¯t have time to think about that now. Not tonight. Chapter 13 : Inheritance of Fire The mess hall was too quiet, the kind of silence that made every bite feel like a disruption. I sat alone at a corner bench, my tray of processed rations in front of me. The protein patty was dense and flavorless, the vegetable block barely distinguishable from the tray itself. But I was too hungry to care. Each bite disappeared faster than the last, the gnawing void in my stomach urging me to devour every scrap. By the time the tray was nearly clean, my restraint snapped. My tongue swept over the edges of the tray, licking away the last smears of the pale gelatin and synthetic grease. I didn¡¯t stop until the tray gleamed, the metallic surface catching faint reflections in the bright overhead light. It was only when I caught my reflection in the tray that I froze, a sharp jolt of realization cutting through the haze of hunger. Blood and ash clung to my skin like a second layer, burnt into the curve of my jaw and streaked across my collarbone. My face was gaunt, hollows under my eyes casting dark shadows that made my features seem sharper, more alien. The gore on my face had been scorched into a dry crust, blending with the ash that coated my arms and chest. My suit had protected most of me during the fire, but my midriff and face hadn¡¯t been as lucky. My hair caught my attention next. It had been long before, but now the ends looked seared and uneven, as if someone had hacked at it with a dull blade. I reached up, fingers brushing against the jagged tips. Burned. It would¡¯ve bothered me once, but now? I shrugged, pushing the thought away. It didn¡¯t matter. It was growing unusually fast anyway, much like my nails. Just another side effect. I stared into the tray a moment longer, my reflection staring back with mismatched eyes. One was crimson, vivid and glowing faintly in the dim light. The other remained a striking blue, a ghost of who I used to be. The juxtaposition unsettled me, a constant reminder that whatever I was becoming, it wasn¡¯t entirely human. The hunger stirred again, sharp and insistent, but I forced it down. There was nothing else to eat here. Rising from the bench, I shoved the tray into the disposal slot and made my way to the showers, my feet bare against the cold floor. The shower stalls were empty, their metallic walls gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The space smelled faintly of cleaning agents, the sterile scent curling in my nostrils as I stripped out of my ruined clothing. The suit was unsalvageable, the fabric scorched and torn in places. Blood and ash clung to the inside, stark evidence of what I¡¯d endured. As I peeled it off, a faint dampness in the fabric made my stomach turn. I don¡¯t need to look to know what that is. The shame hit me like a fresh burn, my throat tightening as the memory of that moment surged forward unbidden. It wasn¡¯t just fear¡ªit was weakness. My body betrayed me yet again. And now it¡¯s clinging to me like I can¡¯t escape it. Maybe Knight is right. Maybe I am still just a scared little girl. I stepped into the stall and hit the control panel. Scalding water cascaded over me, hitting my skin with an intensity that made me flinch. The burns across my midriff and shoulders had mostly healed, leaving only raw, sensitive skin. The water wasn¡¯t painful¡ªat least not like before. Compared to the inferno I¡¯d endured, this was almost a relief, the heat washing over me, grounding me, reminding me that I was still alive. Still functional.
I scrubbed at my skin furiously, soap and water mixing with ash and grime to form a filthy slurry that spiraled down the drain. My fingers caught on raw patches of skin where my regeneration hadn¡¯t finished yet, the texture uneven and faintly sticky. Scabs flaked away under my hands, revealing tender pink flesh beneath. Normally, these wounds would have closed in seconds, but today everything was slower, my body struggling after hours of constant healing. My nails scratched harder, digging at the stubborn remnants of blood that refused to wash off, the motion more frantic than necessary. The water beat against me, and as I looked down, my ribs jutted out, sharp and angular. My breasts were smaller, the curves I¡¯d once had diminished to nothing but lean muscle and bone. Of course, I thought bitterly, my body burns through everything it can to heal itself, and it¡¯s never enough. I ran a hand over my flat stomach, the skin stretched taut, every muscle visible in stark detail. It had to be a combination of everything¡ªthe Hemlock mission where I¡¯d been torn apart over and over again, my body desperately trying to repair itself while consuming whatever reserves I had left. And then¡­ I grimaced at the memory. The mutant I¡¯d fought. How I¡¯d lost control. How I¡¯d sunk my teeth into its flesh like an animal, tearing and swallowing in a blind, savage rage. I¡¯d thrown most of it up afterward, the taste of bile and blood still fresh in my mind. Even after what I¡¯d just eaten in the mess hall, it hadn¡¯t been enough. My body was running on fumes, and I could feel it in the persistent ache in my muscles, the faint, gnawing hunger that never seemed to abate. I¡¯ll have to eat some more of those protein bars Holt gave me, I thought, making a mental note. He¡¯d packed them in that crate, probably as an afterthought, but they might be the only thing keeping me upright at this rate. I let out a shaky breath and scrubbed harder, trying to focus on the water, the soap, anything but the hollowness in my stomach. The stench of burnt flesh still clung to me, refusing to fade even as the water poured over me. I leaned my forehead against the cool wall of the stall, the stream pounding against my back, and exhaled slowly. My thoughts spun, flitting between the fire, the monster, and the gnawing void inside me. When the water finally ran clear, I shut it off and stepped out, steam curling around me. Grabbing a towel, I dried off quickly, avoiding the mirror. I didn¡¯t want to see myself again. My reflection in the tray had been enough. The T-shirt I pulled from the storage locker was soft and oversized, the faded image of an old anime character from Earth barely visible on the front. The shorts I slipped on hung loose around my hips, the waistband brushing against the tender skin of my midriff. I didn¡¯t bother with shoes, my bare feet still damp as I left the locker room. Back in my quarters, the familiar shadows greeted me, their shapes twisting in the dim light. I ignored them, heading straight for the bottle of synthetic whiskey I¡¯d swiped from the mess hall earlier. It was no doubt one of Warren¡¯s, a relic from his private stash. The stuff wasn¡¯t exactly commonplace on the Jericho. Normally, taking it would¡¯ve landed me in hot water with the captain, but with my newly granted clearance, we were technically the same rank¡ªor so Jericho claimed. After everything he¡¯d been keeping from me, though, I honestly don¡¯t give a fuck. I poured myself a generous glass, the amber liquid sloshing against the sides, and downed it in one long swallow. The burn spread through my chest, dulling the edges of my thoughts just enough to make the weight on my shoulders feel a fraction lighter. The shadows didn¡¯t seem so threatening anymore¡ªjust shapes twisting aimlessly, reflecting the chaos in my own mind. I poured another and sank onto my bed, leaning against the cold wall as I sipped. The taste was sharp, chemical, but it didn¡¯t matter. The warmth creeping through me was what I needed, not the flavor. For a moment, I let myself relax, the tension in my shoulders easing as the alcohol settled in. Sleep crept up on me slowly, dragging me down into its depths. But it wasn¡¯t peaceful. The dream was jagged, fragmented. Flames licked at my skin, a searing heat that tore through my nerves. The monster¡¯s voice echoed, warped and wet. ¡°Feed, Sol. You¡¯ll need it to survive.¡± Blood filled my senses¡ªits smell, its taste, its texture¡ªand the hunger roared to life, more feral than before. My father¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and cruel. ¡°You¡¯re my little Phoenix. You¡¯ll burn for me.¡± I woke with a start, my breath catching in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, the phantom pain of the fire still clinging to my nerves. The room was dark, shadows pooling in every corner. My mismatched eyes darted around, searching for movement, for threats, but there was nothing. Just the silence of the ship. The glow of my datapad caught my eye, blinking faintly on the desk beside my bed. A new message. Vega. I reached for it, my fingers trembling slightly, and swiped the screen to life. Whatever Vega had to say, it couldn¡¯t be worse than what was lurking in my head. At least, I hoped it couldn¡¯t. I stared at the blinking notification on the datapad, the pale glow cutting through the dimness of my quarters. Messages from Vega always carried weight, the kind that sank into your chest and stayed there. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I swiped it open. The subject line was short and to the point: ¡°Priority Operations Update: Immediate Attention Required.¡± I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus as I read.
FROM: Commander Evelyn Vega TO: Sol Voss SUBJECT: Priority Operations Update: Immediate Attention Required
Sol, Following an emergency session of the Council, operational directives have been revised to address the risks posed by the Hemlock incident. After thorough deliberation, the Council reached a unanimous decision to push Jericho to maximum warp (100x light-speed). This course of action is deemed necessary to create the greatest possible distance between us and the threats posed by the Hemlock. However, this acceleration comes with several critical implications:
  • Fuel Reserves: High-speed travel will rapidly deplete our fuel supply, necessitating frequent refueling stops. This increased strain will require careful resource management to prevent mission compromise.
  • Crew Rotation: To sustain operations during this period, Teams B and C will be woken earlier than planned. Their inclusion is necessary to distribute the workload and mitigate risks from overextension. The revised crew rotation schedule is attached for your review.
  • Command Structure: Captain Warren and the other Council members will remain awake during this critical transition. Per the agreement, Lion and the Royal Guard have already returned to cryo.
Your role has also been reevaluated. As a result, your clearance has been upgraded to Captain-level, though your rank has not been officially conferred. This grants you access to detailed mission objectives and logistical oversight not privy to the rest of the crew. Additionally, you and Knight will bear responsibility for continuing your father¡¯s work. It is imperative that you familiarize yourself with these updates before your next assignment in Lab 3. Take note of this: while Lion¡¯s support secured this opportunity for you, understand that his influence has created a fragile truce with the Council. Do not strain it further. While your performance on the Hemlock was acknowledged, no individual is exempt from scrutiny. Use this time to recover, but do not mistake this reprieve for leniency. Every resource aboard Jericho is critical, including you. We cannot afford unnecessary liabilities, no matter your circumstances. A new pressure suit has been prepared for you in storage. I expect you to retrieve it promptly and prepare for reentry into active operations. The suit has been tailored to accommodate your... unique physiology. Commander Vega Attachment: [Revised Crew Rotation Schedule]
I leaned back, letting the datapad rest against my knees as I stared at the screen. The message was clinical and professional, but its undertones were clear¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a vote of confidence. It was a test. Lion¡¯s actions had bought me this chance, but it wasn¡¯t my merit that convinced the Council. It was his authority, his unwavering loyalty to the Voss name. Everyone knew it, including me. My rank hadn¡¯t changed, but my clearance had. Captain-level access. It was a double-edged sword, granting me tools and responsibilities I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted. The words Lab 3 loomed large, the weight of them pressing against my chest. My father¡¯s work, Knight¡¯s role, the disaster with Wilks¡ªall of it waiting for me in that lab. I wasn¡¯t ready to face it, but the clearance meant I didn¡¯t have a choice. Responsibility had a way of stripping away what little freedom I had. Lion had taken care of Wilks and made Knight compliant, though what that truly entailed, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to know. The memories of the whispers clawed at the edges of my thoughts, relentless and intrusive, their weight dragging me closer to the unknown parts of myself I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge. I¡¯d hoped to find a way to silence them, to stop the hunger that gnawed at my core. But I couldn¡¯t deny the regeneration was incredible, no matter the cost. Watching my body knit itself back together, even after being torn apart, was a cruel miracle. It saved me over and over, even as it reminded me I was something else now¡ªsomething monstrous. Swiping to the next notification, my breath caught. It was from Lion.
Message to Sol: FROM: Lion TO: Sol Voss SUBJECT: Guidance You know what must be done. Trust in your father¡¯s work, Highness. If you need anything, call for Jericho. I will hear it.
The words were simple, but they struck harder than I expected. Even in cryo, Lion¡¯s presence lingered, his voice a reminder of the impossible standard he believed I could meet¡ªor needed me to meet. I set the datapad aside and leaned back, resting my head against the wall. The faint hum of the ship¡¯s systems thrummed in the background, steady and unchanging, a sharp contrast to the chaos of my thoughts. The shadows in the room felt heavier tonight, their edges sharper as they pressed in around me. I let them come. There was no point fighting them. Whatever Vega, the Council, or even Lion expected of me could wait. The weight of their words, their expectations, could sit there for now, suffocating but distant. Just for tonight, I allowed myself to sink back into the oblivion of sleep. The nightmares didn¡¯t wait long. Flames licked at my skin, whispers clawed at my thoughts, and the hunger roared, untamed and feral. The shadows in my mind took shape, twisting into faces I couldn¡¯t recognize, yet they felt familiar. The next day began in Lab 3, the trip far too short for my liking. My stomach churned at the thought of facing my birth giver¡ªa title that felt more accurate than anything maternal. Knight had never been a mother; she was an architect of flesh and bone, nothing more. The pristine hit me as soon as I stepped inside, the faint hum of Jericho¡¯s drones filling the space. The battle that had once raged here¡ªthe gore and destruction left by Lion and Wilks¡ªwas gone. The walls gleamed under the fluorescent lights, their surfaces smooth and pristine. Whatever damage had been inflicted during their fight, Jericho¡¯s nanobots and repair drones had erased it as though it had never happened. "Don¡¯t waste time gawking," Knight snapped, her silver eyes cutting to me with a sharp edge of disdain. "If you¡¯d shown half this interest as a child, maybe we wouldn¡¯t have to waste time playing catch-up now. It was exhausting trying to teach you back then, constantly dragging you along while you stumbled through the basics. Let¡¯s hope you¡¯ve finally decided to act like the prodigy your father thought you were, instead of a clumsy child lost in her own shadow." She turned back to the glowing displays, her tone as sharp as a scalpel. "Now, try to keep up." I ignored Knight¡¯s words as best I could, letting them roll off me like the hum of the ship¡¯s engines, and turned my focus elsewhere. Lab 3 was familiar in ways that made my chest tighten, the ache sharp and unrelenting. The layout mirrored my father¡¯s private lab on Earth¡ªthe one I¡¯d spent countless hours in as a child, surrounded by the constant hum of machinery and the soft glow of screens. His lab had been alive in its chaos: half-finished projects sprawled across every surface, stacks of handwritten notes covered in his spidery scrawl, and the faint smell of ozone hanging in the air. Lab 3, by contrast, was clinical. Every surface gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, devoid of personality or warmth. The equipment, though advanced, was so perfectly placed and pristine it felt sterile¡ªalmost alien. It wasn¡¯t a place for discovery; it was a place for results, stripped of everything that had once made my father¡¯s work feel human. It was efficient, precise, and utterly hollow. Still, the resemblance was enough to claw at old memories. I could almost hear his voice, patient but insistent, guiding my clumsy hands as I fumbled with the simplest tasks. He never grew angry, not like Knight, but his disappointment had always stung worse. For a moment, I let myself remember that lab, the warmth of it, the way it had smelled faintly of coffee and soldering wire. I let myself miss it. Miss him. Then I forced the memories away, shoving them into the same dark corner where I kept the whispers and the hunger. There was no use lingering on what was gone. Knight had been busy getting the place ready, and she had no doubt made the lab look just like my father¡¯s to taunt me. The symmetry, the deliberate arrangement of instruments I recognized all too well¡ªit was a cruel echo of what I¡¯d lost. It felt like walking into a ghost, the past brought to life with sterile, unfeeling precision. To my left, a series of gene sequencers hummed quietly. Each one was equipped with multi-lattice projection systems capable of rendering a full genetic map in three dimensions, down to the quantum level. The screens displayed strands of glowing DNA, twisting and spiraling as Knight manipulated the sequences with quick, deliberate gestures. Further back, rows of containment chambers lined the walls, their reinforced glass fronts flickering with readouts in languages only someone fluent in genetic shorthand could decipher. I recognized some of the equipment immediately: bioreactors designed to cultivate synthetic proteins, cryogenic storage units for preserving samples at absolute zero, and an autoclave station large enough to sterilize tools the size of industrial scaffolds. But there were other machines I didn¡¯t recognize. Devices whose purposes were hidden behind layers of alien design and advanced engineering. One station featured a sleek, cylindrical chamber labeled "Quantum Polymerizer." Its purpose eluded me, but the faint hum it emitted hinted at molecular manipulation far beyond anything I¡¯d learned. Knight gestured impatiently for me to sit at one of the stations near her. ¡°I said stop gawking, child,¡± she barked, her voice cutting through my thoughts with the same sterile efficiency as the lab around us. ¡°This isn¡¯t playtime in your father¡¯s lab, and I¡¯m not here to indulge your wide-eyed distractions. Sit down and get to work. You¡¯ll start here¡ªmapping viral evolution in real time. I need you to understand how Phoenix adapts¡ªwhat makes it unique. And, most importantly, what makes you unique.¡± Her tone was as clinical as the room itself, and it stung in a way I hated to admit. She handed me a datapad, her tone cold but focused. ¡°Load the sequence for Variant 47. It¡¯s in the secured files. We¡¯ll use it as the baseline for today.¡± The datapad came to life in my hands, and I began scrolling through the archived sequences. Each file was labeled with cold, clinical precision: "Variant 43 - Metabolic Overdrive," "Variant 46 - Neural Pathway Amplification," "Variant 47 - Adaptive Immunogenesis." I hesitated before selecting Variant 47, the screen lighting up with a cascade of information. A three-dimensional rendering of the virus appeared, its complex structure glowing in blue and gold. The datapad outlined its key features¡ªmutagenic proteins, RNA-based adaptability, nanoscopic delivery systems that integrated with host cells at an atomic scale. Phoenix wasn¡¯t just a virus¡ªit was a masterpiece. A terrifying, brilliant creation that rewrote the rules of biology. My father¡¯s work had always been groundbreaking, but this¡­ This was something else entirely. I leaned closer, my fingers brushing the datapad as I adjusted the rendering. Knight watched me with a sharp, critical eye. ¡°Do you see it yet?¡± she asked, her tone pressing. ¡°What makes Phoenix different?¡± I frowned, narrowing my mismatched eyes at the sequence. It was there, buried deep in the genome¡ªa repeating pattern almost too deliberate. ¡°It¡¯s modular,¡± I murmured, half to myself. ¡°Every segment is designed to integrate with something specific. Host DNA, environmental stimuli, even electromagnetic fields. It¡¯s¡­ adaptable.¡± Knight gave a curt nod, her peircing gaze fixed on the screen. ¡°Not adaptable¡ªsymbiotic. Phoenix doesn¡¯t just rewrite DNA; it partners with it. It forces the host to evolve alongside it. That¡¯s why it worked on you. Your father tailored it to your DNA.¡± Her words settled cold in my chest. ¡°Good to know all those childhood experiments weren¡¯t for nothing,¡± I muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. ¡°So, how did it work for the others?¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t,¡± Knight replied bluntly. ¡°Not being a genetic match killed them. Their bodies fought back, and Phoenix doesn¡¯t allow defiance. It consumed them, twisted them into something else entirely¡ªor killed them outright.¡± I hesitated, the question forming before I could stop it. ¡°Is that why one of my eyes is red?¡± My hand brushed against my face instinctively, fingers lingering near the glowing crimson iris. ¡°But Wilks¡­ both of his were.¡± Knight¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver, as though she¡¯d anticipated my question. ¡°Yes,¡± she said, her tone clipped but precise. ¡°Your DNA meshed with the virus. It integrated seamlessly, forming a symbiotic relationship. That¡¯s why your body is still yours¡ªwhy it evolves instead of being overwritten.¡± She gestured toward the simulation on the screen, highlighting the strain as she continued, her voice taking on a sharp edge of certainty. ¡°Wilks, on the other hand¡­ his DNA resisted. Phoenix doesn¡¯t tolerate resistance. In his case, the virus didn¡¯t just integrate¡ªit replaced. His body became something else entirely before he died.¡± Her eyes flicked back to me, unreadable. ¡°The red eyes are a symptom of that¡ªa sign the virus was overriding him piece by piece.¡± The knot in my stomach tightened as her words sank in. My focus returned to the datapad, the lines of genetic code swimming momentarily before snapping into sharp clarity. ¡°Then it¡¯s useless,¡± I said, my voice hard. ¡°It¡¯s too specialized. Phoenix was made for me, down to every molecule.¡± Knight¡¯s expression remained unreadable. ¡°That was the point. Your father spent years perfecting both you and the virus. Between the genetic modifications he performed on you as a child and Phoenix¡¯s design, no one else could adapt to it.¡± ¡°Then why bother?¡± I asked, the frustration and unease building. ¡°Because in time, with the right conditions, it could be passed on,¡± Knight said, her tone even. ¡°To your descendants.¡± The words struck like a physical blow, my chest tightening with revulsion. Descendants. Children. The thought of passing this thing on, of tying another life to the virus, made my skin crawl. ¡°No,¡± I said sharply, shaking my head. ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen. Ever.¡± Knight¡¯s penetrating gaze locked onto me, almost clinical. ¡°A bit dramatic, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Not after what you and my father did,¡± I snapped. ¡°You think I¡¯d bring anyone into the world after the way I was brought into it? I wasn¡¯t a child¡ªI was an experiment. That¡¯s not something I¡¯ll ever inflict on anyone else.¡± Her sharpness dulled slightly, but the silence carried weight¡ªacknowledgment laced with disdain. It pissed me off. ¡°What the hell were you thinking, giving him Hydra after Phoenix already wrecked him?¡± I snapped. ¡°Did you want to make a monster?¡± Knight turned sharply, her silver eyes narrowing. ¡°You think I didn¡¯t know the risks? Of course I did. That¡¯s exactly why I did it.¡± I blinked, thrown off. ¡°You what?¡± Her lips curved into a cold, thin smile. ¡°Wilks was already dead. Phoenix had chewed through him¡ªthere was nothing left to save. But his body¡­ his body was a perfect test subject. Hydra wasn¡¯t some miracle cure, Sol. It was a theory. A way to test what happens when you push Phoenix past its natural limits. And now we know.¡± My stomach twisted. ¡°You didn¡¯t just test it. You created a goddamn nightmare.¡± Her tone turned even icier, her words like blades. ¡°And that nightmare proved your father right. Hydra amplified Phoenix, combined with it. It didn¡¯t just rebuild Wilks¡ªit turned him into something¡­ else. Something stronger. Something uncontrollable. Exactly what Julian hypothesized.¡± ¡°That¡¯s your excuse?¡± I spat. ¡°You threw Hydra into him just to see if it would work?¡± Knight¡¯s eyes narrowed further, her voice cutting. ¡°It wasn¡¯t about him, Sol. It was about Phoenix¡ªand about you. Every test we ran, every failure, brought us closer to understanding the virus. To understanding you. Without Wilks, we wouldn¡¯t have half the data we do now. You think that doesn¡¯t matter?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t justify this!¡± I shot back, my voice rising. ¡°You used him like a fucking lab rat¡ªjust like you used me. He didn¡¯t even have a say¡ªhe was already gone!¡± Knight¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver, her silver eyes colder than the sterile lab. ¡°And that¡¯s exactly why it had to be him. Do you think I¡¯d risk someone alive? Someone who might adapt halfway and unleash something even worse than Wilks? No. It had to be a corpse. It had to be controlled. Hydra¡¯s a failure, but now we know what failure looks like¡ªand we know what it costs.¡± Her lip curled into a mocking smirk. ¡°You, of all people, should appreciate that, Test Subject Zero. After all, you turned out just fine, didn¡¯t you? Maybe you should start feeling grateful. Wilks wasn¡¯t the first, and he sure as hell won¡¯t be the last. Your father didn¡¯t stop or even begin with you¡ªhe didn¡¯t even hesitate.¡± The words hit like a slap, my pulse spiking with a mix of rage and disgust. ¡°Grateful?¡± I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides. ¡°For what? For being your goddamn science project? For ending up as some twisted proof of concept for a virus that¡¯s changing me, driving me insane?¡± Knight shrugged, her tone as dismissive as her gaze. ¡°Better than ending up a monster like Wilks. Or dead, like the others. Face it, Sol¡ªyou¡¯re the reason any of this even works. If you want to keep wallowing in self-pity, fine. But at least try to do something useful with what you¡¯ve got.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Her words struck like a hammer, heavy with cruel logic. My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms. ¡°You don¡¯t even feel bad, do you? Not one fucking bit.¡± ¡°Feeling bad doesn¡¯t get results,¡± she said coldly. ¡°Wilks wasn¡¯t coming back, Sol. At least this way, his death meant something. Now, if you¡¯re done playing the moral high ground, maybe we can focus on what actually matters. Phoenix first. Hydra¡­ later.¡± Her dismissal stung, but I forced myself to turn back to the screen. The glowing strands of DNA twisted like the truth¡ªshimmering, elusive, and laced with horror. Knight could justify it all she wanted. But to me, it was just another reminder of how far they¡¯d gone. How far they were willing to go. And how far I might have to. ¡°This,¡± she said, tapping the display, her voice as sharp as ever, ¡°is where you start. The catalyst proteins. They¡¯re what enable Phoenix to bind to the host genome. Learn how they work. Learn how they fail. Because if we¡¯re going to control this thing¡ªor suppress it¡ªyou¡¯ll need to understand it better than your father ever did.¡± Her words carried an unspoken weight, settling over me like a physical pressure. I nodded, though the tightness in my chest didn¡¯t ease. Hours blurred together as I worked, my world narrowing to the endless rows of genetic code on the screen. Mapping sequences, running simulations, and dissecting Phoenix¡¯s design was like unraveling a tightly knotted rope, the complexity staggering but oddly familiar. Knight¡¯s critiques came sharp and unrelenting, slicing through the silence as she guided me. Brutal as her methods were, the pieces were starting to click. The lab¡¯s hum enveloped me, a sterile symphony of whirring processors and softly blinking monitors. Across the room, a holographic interface projected a simulation¡ªPhoenix, glowing and predatory, threading itself through a digital model of my genome. I stared at the display, watching as the virus latched onto each strand of DNA, its tendrils weaving seamlessly into place. It wasn¡¯t just merging¡ªit was consuming, claiming, adapting. ¡°This is just the beginning,¡± Knight said from behind me, her tone low but dripping with scorn. ¡°Phoenix is more than a virus. It¡¯s a weapon, a tool, and¡ªif we¡¯re not careful¡ªa curse. The kind of monstrosity only someone as brilliant and heinous as your father could create. And let¡¯s not forget you¡ªhis living proof of concept. Between the two of you, the line between genius and atrocity has never been so thin.¡± Her words hung heavy in the sterile air, cutting through the hum of the lab like a scalpel. I didn¡¯t look at her. I couldn¡¯t. My fists clenched at my sides as the simulation continued to spin, glowing with all the terrible beauty of what I¡¯d eventually become. She gestured to the simulation, zooming in on the glowing double helix, her voice laced with irritation. ¡°Tell me you at least know the basics of human biology. Every cell has safeguards¡ªcaps on the ends of chromosomes, called telomeres. Surely, you¡¯ve heard of them? They¡¯re what keep cells from dividing endlessly and turning into a mess of mutations. They wear down over time, like a countdown clock, until the cell stops dividing altogether. Nature¡¯s way of keeping things in check. ¡°But Phoenix? It doesn¡¯t bother with those caps. It bypasses them completely, overriding the failsafe. Instead of letting your cells age or degrade, the virus itself steps in as the safeguard. It¡¯s the reason you¡¯re still standing here, looking like you¡¯ve never aged a day. But don¡¯t fool yourself¡ªit¡¯s not perfect, and it¡¯s not natural. You should know this already.¡± I frowned, studying the visualization as it shifted to show a molecular-level view. ¡°So it replaces the caps?¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± Knight said, her tone sharp. ¡°It mimics their function, but on its own terms. The virus carries a precise copy of your DNA¡ªpristine, uncorrupted. Every time your cells divide, Phoenix ensures the new cells use its blueprint rather than allowing natural decay to set in. It¡¯s why you¡¯re immune to things like cancer or genetic corruption. The virus doesn¡¯t just repair your body; it overwrites it with perfection every time. I assume even you can grasp how impressive that is.¡± My stomach churned as I considered the implications. ¡°But if it¡¯s rewriting my DNA constantly, how is it not changing me?¡± ¡°It is changing you, hopefully for the better,¡± she said, her voice laced with scorn, though I ignored it. ¡°But only within the boundaries your father set. He spent twenty years perfecting that balance¡ªsequencing the virus to match your DNA exactly. Phoenix works with your body because it knows your body. Every safeguard is tailored to you and you alone. Not that you seem to appreciate the sheer genius of that.¡± The screen shifted again, highlighting molecular diagrams of RNA strands and protein synthesis. ¡°The proteins Phoenix uses to control cell division are coded specifically for your genome. That precision is why it works so seamlessly¡ªwhy your cells regenerate instead of degrading or turning into something monstrous. Without those exact parameters, the virus doesn¡¯t integrate¡ªit destroys.¡± ¡°And the hunger,¡± I muttered, my jaw tightening. ¡°That¡¯s the one thing he never fixed.¡± Knight¡¯s silver eyes flicked to mine, her gaze steady. ¡°No. He couldn¡¯t. The energy demands of perpetual regeneration are beyond anything natural. Your body consumes resources faster than it can process them. Without raw energy, Phoenix will feed on you instead¡ªburning your reserves, breaking you down from the inside out. Only God could cure something like that,¡± she said dryly, ¡°but as Ashly so kindly reminds us, we¡¯re here playing God.¡± Her words hung in the air, amusements on her face. I stared at the glowing simulation on the screen, watching as the virus endlessly repaired and consumed. My father had built the perfect machine for survival, but at the cost of an appetite that could never be sated. I glanced at her, my jaw clenching as I forced myself to suppress the whispers, those faint echoes stirring just beyond the edge of my consciousness. The student becomes the teacher. How my little prot¨¦g¨¦ has grown, my father¡¯s voice coiled through my mind, smooth and venomous. Your mother was always a fast learner, just like you, my little Phoenix. The air felt heavier, the phantom weight of his presence pressing against me, but I refused to acknowledge it. I bit down on the memories threatening to surface and fixed my gaze on the data in front of me. For now, all I could do was focus. Whatever truths waited for me in Lab 3, I would face them head-on. One sequence at a time. The hunger clawed at my thoughts, making it hard to concentrate, and my simmering hatred for Knight made her a disturbingly tempting next meal. The whispers in the back of my mind twisted her sharp voice into something softer, something pleading, as if taunting me with what I could take. But my resolve held firm. I wouldn¡¯t give in¡ªnot to the hunger, not to the virus, and certainly not to the monster lurking in my own mind. I would find a way to satisfy the gnawing void Phoenix had brought on, but I would do it on my terms. Weeks passed in the unfeeling rhythm of Lab 3. I ate more and more, but the weight I¡¯d lost was slow to return. The hum of equipment and the cold glow of holographic displays became my world. Knight was relentless, her sharp critiques cutting through the monotony of endless sequences and data simulations. Each failure reminded me of how far I still had to go. Frustration gnawed at the edges of my focus, but I pressed on. The nights were worse. Sleep offered no respite, only a gateway to nightmares that clawed at my mind. The yellow-eyed monster loomed in the shadows of my dreams, its grotesque form twisting into shapes that defied reason. Its voice was always there¡ªtaunting, wet, and heavy with a cruel mockery. The echoes of its laughter merged with fragmented memories of my childhood, darkened by the sterile glare of my father¡¯s lab. I saw his face, stern and unyielding, heard the cold cadence of his voice as he spoke of progress and perfection. I would wake in the dark, gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest as the images lingered, seared into my mind. The hunger always followed, gnawing and insistent, as though the nightmares fed it. The whispers, faint during the day, were sharper in the stillness of night, their weight pressing down on me like a second skin. And yet, I dragged myself to Lab 3 each morning, the relentless cycle continuing. The work didn¡¯t silence the nightmares, but it gave me something to cling to¡ªa purpose, however flawed. Each sequence, each data point, was a step forward. Even if it was a path I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to walk, it was better than standing still and letting the past consume me. In the evenings, before the nightmares clawed their way into my mind, I buried myself in study and drink, pouring over everything from molecular biology to astrophysics¡ªanything that might help me grasp the intricacies of Phoenix. The whiskey burned as I sipped it, the warmth dulling the edge of the hunger that always lingered at the back of my mind. It wasn¡¯t just the knowledge I sought; it was a way to fight back against the shadows, a way to keep them at bay for just a little longer. I wasn¡¯t just a student anymore. Every paper I read, every equation I deciphered, felt like a battle against the weight of my father¡¯s legacy. I was trying to become a scientist in my own right¡ªnot just an extension of his ambition, not just a living experiment. Each solved problem, each moment of understanding, was a step toward standing on my own against the crushing expectations he¡¯d left behind. The datapad rested beside me, its screen glowing faintly in the dim light of my quarters. Page after page of text and diagrams blurred together as the hours dragged on, the information a mix of careful analysis and half-formed ideas scribbled into the margins of my notes. Somewhere between the whiskey and the diagrams, I found a fleeting sense of control, a brief moment where the chaos seemed manageable. But it never lasted. The work was endless, the gaps in my knowledge vast. And no matter how much I learned, the shadow of Phoenix¡ªand the man who created it¡ªloomed over everything. Ashly joined us eventually, her arm still in a cast from when I¡¯d broken it during those early, chaotic weeks before the Hemlock mission. The sight of her made something in my chest tighten¡ªguilt, shame, maybe both. She avoided my gaze as Knight brusquely assigned her tasks, her movements cautious and deliberate, like she was walking a tightrope in a room filled with predators. ¡°Start with the gene modeling,¡± Knight instructed her, her tone as clinical as the lab itself. ¡°We need fresh projections on Phoenix¡¯s integration thresholds. Sol, focus on the protein pathways.¡± Knight¡¯s silver eyes flicked briefly to me before she turned back to her console, already absorbed in her work. Ashly nodded mutely, her posture tense as she bent over her terminal. I wanted to say something, to bridge the silence between us, but Knight¡¯s presence loomed, and the weight of our work left no room for personal matters. Ashly slipped out of the lab at the end of the day without a word, and I let her go, unsure of how to reach her. It wasn¡¯t until later, when I found her in one of the observation lounges, that I finally had the chance. She was staring out at the void of space, the cast on her arm stark against the soft glow of the stars beyond the reinforced glass. Her small frame seemed to fold into itself, her posture tense and low, as though she were trying to disappear into the view. Almost as short as I was, she seemed even smaller now, diminished by the weight of everything we¡¯d both endured. My heart pounded as I approached, the silence between us heavy and fragile. ¡°Ashly,¡± I said softly. My voice startled her; she flinched, her head snapping around, her eyes wide and wary. ¡°Sol,¡± she said, her voice tight. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°I wanted to talk,¡± I admitted, stepping closer but keeping a careful distance. ¡°About¡­ everything. About what happened.¡± She turned back to the window, her fingers gripping the console edge. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to talk about. It happened. It¡¯s done.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± I said, the words rushing out. ¡°I hurt you, Ashly. I scared you. I know I can¡¯t undo it, but I need you to know I¡¯m sorry.¡± Her shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn¡¯t answer. Then she let out a shaky breath, her voice quieter when she spoke. ¡°You didn¡¯t just hurt me, Sol. You¡­ you lost control. You have no idea how terrifying that was. Not just because of what you did, but because of what you could do.¡± She turned to face me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pity. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what Phoenix can do. What it has done. And every time I look at you, I see that same potential. The same danger.¡± Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I kept my gaze steady. ¡°I¡¯m trying,¡± I said, my voice barely above a whisper. ¡°To control it. To understand it. That¡¯s why I¡¯m doing this.¡± Ashly¡¯s gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her sleeve. ¡°I know. And that¡¯s why I¡¯m still here. If anyone can figure this out, it¡¯s you. But¡­ this isn¡¯t just about control, Sol. It¡¯s about what¡¯s right. And playing God? Trying to force evolution? That¡¯s not right. It never was.¡± Her words echoed the note she¡¯d left, her plea to abandon my father¡¯s work. ¡°Then why are you helping?¡± I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. ¡°If you think it¡¯s wrong, why stay?¡± She hesitated, her expression conflicted. ¡°Because if you¡¯re going to do this¡ªif you¡¯re going to pursue Phoenix¡ªI¡¯d rather be here. That¡¯s why I left you the note, Sol. I wanted you to stop, but if you won¡¯t, then I¡¯ll stay. I think you deserve the chance to make it right. I¡¯d rather try to help you control it than stand by and hope for the best. I¡¯d rather be scared and trying to make a difference than leave you alone with¡­ her.¡± The unspoken name hung heavy between us. Knight. I nodded slowly, my chest tight with a mix of gratitude and guilt. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, my voice quiet but sincere. ¡°I¡¯ll make this right. I promise.¡± Ashly gave me a faint, hesitant smile, though the fear in her eyes hadn¡¯t entirely faded. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t make me regret it, okay? I only have one arm left,¡± she added, her tone wavering between a joke and genuine nervousness. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I said, hoping I could keep my word. The weight of her trust settled over me like a mantle, and for the first time in weeks, the whispers in my mind grew quiet. We stood there in silence for a while, watching the stars stretch endlessly beyond the window. It wasn¡¯t forgiveness¡ªnot completely¡ªbut it was a beginning. And for now, that was enough. The days bled into weeks, and then months. We pushed through light-years of empty space, the vastness outside Jericho¡¯s hull a constant reminder of how far we were from anything familiar. The ship¡¯s engines roared as we hit refueling points, plunging into the swirling atmospheres of gas giants to harvest precious hydrogen. Three missions like that came and went, each one a blur of logistical chaos and tense oversight from the council. I barely noticed. My world had shrunk to the confines of Lab 3, the hum of Jericho¡¯s systems, and the gnawing hunger that never truly left me. Occasionally, I ran into other members of the crew from Teams B and C, now awake to handle the increased workload. Most avoided me like the plague. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was fear, the rumors swirling about me, or some combination of both, but the effect was the same. People moved aside in the hallways, whispered behind my back, and hurried away before I could speak. There were a few exceptions. Furio, a rugged, no-nonsense engineer, greeted me once in passing with a curt nod, though he didn¡¯t linger. Sebastian, the lead scientist on his team, was friendlier¡ªor at least polite. But even he seemed preoccupied, deeply engrossed in analyzing the alien evidence Jericho had flagged from the, Hemlock. When I tried to probe for details, he brushed me off with a vague explanation about classification levels and critical priorities. Frustrated, I turned to Jericho for answers. The AI, ever-cryptic, deflected most of my questions about the so-called yellow-eyed monster. ¡°No anomalies detected,¡± it would say, its calm voice maddeningly indifferent. ¡°No relevant records available for your clearance level.¡± When I tried to access files on my father¡¯s hidden projects, hoping to unearth something useful, my terminal flashed red. A familiar message appeared moments later¡ªthis time from Lion himself.
Message to Sol: FROM: Lion TO: Sol Voss SUBJECT: Priorities You¡¯re as busy as it is, Highness. One project at a time. And remember, you have all the time in the universe. Knight knows precisely what she¡¯s doing¡ªshe was selected for her results, not her conscience. Progress is being made in Lab 3, and she is there to guide you, to teach you. If her methods seem cruel, it¡¯s because they are. You should already understand that she places science above all else; she always has, just like your father. Embrace the knowledge she imparts, Highness, because that is the only way forward.
The words simmered in my mind, a reminder of how little control I truly had. Even with Captain-level clearance, Lion and the council still kept me on a leash, invoking my father¡¯s standing orders whenever I pushed too far against them or Knight. ¡°Bullshit,¡± I muttered under my breath, closing the message with a sharp swipe. My teeth ground together as I stared at the blank terminal screen, the frustration churning in my chest. Lion¡¯s interference, the rumors, the whispers in my mind¡ªit all coiled around me like a tightening noose. My fangs bit into my lip before I realized it, the sharpness slicing through the skin. The tang of iron flooded my mouth, jolting me out of my spiraling thoughts. I swallowed hard, the taste lingering, a bitter reminder of the changes I couldn¡¯t escape. But I couldn¡¯t stop. Couldn¡¯t afford to. If I was going to find the answers buried in Jericho¡¯s labyrinthine systems¡ªor in Phoenix itself¡ªI¡¯d have to play their game. For now. Then came the day when Reid and Garin were finally cleared to leave quarantine. Jimmy and Holt, however, remained in medbay, their recoveries dragging on. Jimmy was still learning to walk with his new cybernetic leg, each step an awkward, determined shuffle as he adjusted to the sleek, high-tech mechanics. Holt was worse off¡ªstill locked in a coma, his powerful frame unnervingly still under the medical scanners. Yates, ever composed, admitted in a rare moment of uncertainty, ¡°I don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll ever wake up.¡± The short, clipped words lingered in my mind. Reid was the first to visit me. He strolled into Lab 3 like he owned the place, his usual swagger somewhat dampened but still intact. His new cybernetic arm gleamed under the sterile lights¡ªa masterwork of engineering, sleek and seamless. It was nothing like the crude replacements from old Earth¡¯s archives. No, this was one of my father¡¯s designs, enhanced and executed flawlessly by Jericho¡¯s drones. The arm moved with eerie precision as he flexed his fingers, testing the range of motion, the faint hum of its servos barely audible over the lab¡¯s ambient hum. ¡°Hey, Princess,¡± he said with a smirk. ¡°Turns out the metal hand¡¯s great for cold beers. The real one¡¯s still perfect for holding yours, though.¡± I snorted, despite myself, shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± ¡°True,¡± he replied, his tone light, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at his arm. ¡°It¡¯s weird, you know? Feels like it¡¯s still me, but¡­ not really. Like I¡¯m borrowing part of someone else.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± I said, though I wasn¡¯t sure if that was true. ¡°And besides, it suits you. You¡¯re still Reid¡ªjust a little shinier.¡± His grin softened, the bravado giving way to something quieter. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, his voice lower. ¡°For¡­ you know. Saving my ass out there. I wouldn¡¯t have made it without you.¡± I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. ¡°You¡¯d have done the same for me.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± he said, then added with a smirk, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t have looked half as badass doing it.¡± The tension broke, and we both laughed, the sound echoing faintly in the sterile lab. For a moment, it felt almost normal. Garin, on the other hand, was a different story. He arrived not long after Reid left, his movements precise and deliberate as always. His new prosthetic eye glinted faintly, the intricate mechanics a stark contrast to his otherwise unremarkable features. He barely acknowledged me as he entered, heading straight for the console nearest to Knight. Across the room, Ashly seemed to shrink further into herself, her posture tighter and more withdrawn than usual at his appearance. Her shoulders hunched slightly, and her eyes flicked toward him with a wary, almost reluctant glance before darting back to her work. ¡°Back to work,¡± he said curtly, his tone dismissive. ¡°No time to waste.¡± I watched him for a moment, irritation prickling at the edges of my thoughts. He didn¡¯t care about the months we¡¯d spent in Lab 3, the progress we¡¯d made, or the questions still looming over Phoenix. All he cared about was his obsession¡ªthe so-called ¡°true AI¡± he kept muttering about. He was convinced it would surpass Jericho, though even Knight seemed skeptical. Still, I couldn¡¯t deny he was brilliant. His hands moved swiftly over the controls, calling up sequences and data sets with a speed that made my head spin. But his brilliance came with arrogance, a refusal to see beyond his own ambitions. The tension between him and Knight was immediate. She barely looked at him, her posture stiff as she focused on her own work. When they did speak, it was clipped, their words carrying an undercurrent of years-old grudges and unresolved disagreements. ¡°Cybernetics are a dead end,¡± Knight said at one point, her tone icy. ¡°If you¡¯d bothered to read the data on Phoenix¡¯s integration, you¡¯d understand why.¡± ¡°And if you¡¯d bothered to consider the risks of biological manipulation, you¡¯d understand why cybernetics are safer,¡± Garin shot back, his voice sharp. ¡°Your obsession with Phoenix is what got Lab 3 shut down in the first place, halting progress on Julian¡¯s remaining projects.¡± Their arguments became a constant backdrop, the two of them locked in a battle of wills that neither seemed willing to concede. Ashly and I exchanged weary glances more than once, the strain of mediating between them wearing on both of us. As the weeks stretched on, I threw myself into the work, burying the whispers and the hunger beneath the weight of research and discovery. Phoenix was a monster, yes, but it was also a marvel¡ªa testament to my father¡¯s genius and the terrifying lengths he¡¯d gone to in pursuit of survival. Understanding it felt like the only way forward, the only way to make sense of what I was becoming. Garin, had been surprisingly nicer since the Hemlock, where I¡¯d saved his life. But ¡°nicer¡± was a relative term. He still found ways to be an asshole¡ªsneering at my work when it didn¡¯t meet his impossible standards or making pointed remarks about my supposed ¡°legacy.¡± At least now his snide comments came with the occasional begrudging acknowledgment, like he was trying to balance his gratitude with his natural instinct to be insufferable. It was progress, I supposed. Not much, but enough to make his presence marginally less unbearable. Knight, by comparison, was still a bitch. Her sharp critiques and thinly veiled disdain hadn¡¯t entirely disappeared, but after months of working together, she had at least stopped insulting me as often¡ªa small improvement for the relentless whore, but one I¡¯d grudgingly take. Whether it was her version of a truce or just another layer of her endless mind games, I didn¡¯t care. At least it¡¯s quieter. A small part of me, however, couldn¡¯t quite forget the last backhanded compliment Knight had given me. I had managed to complete one of her dozens of tasks¡ªpainstakingly detailed, as always¡ªwithout needing her corrections or input. She¡¯d looked at the results, raised an eyebrow, and muttered, ¡°Not bad, for once.¡± I don¡¯t need her affirmation, I thought, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. And I sure as hell don¡¯t want it. But I couldn¡¯t deny that, in the moment, it had been¡­ pleasant. Almost like a fleeting acknowledgment that I wasn¡¯t entirely useless in her eyes. Goddammit, I scolded myself, stop caring what she thinks. The thought lingered anyway, a tiny ember of satisfaction buried in the constant churn of frustration and resentment. Not validation, I insisted, just¡­ progress. That¡¯s all it is. And so, the days passed. Until I finally understood. Late one night in the sterile glow of Lab 3, it all came together. The Phoenix virus wasn¡¯t just a regenerative tool. It was something far more ambitious¡ªfar more dangerous. My fingers hovered over the datapad as I stared at the simulation running before me. Strands of genetic material, glowing in vivid holographic detail, intertwined with Phoenix¡¯s sequence, its integration seamless and deliberate. It¡¯s not just rewriting my DNA, I murmured, almost afraid to speak the words aloud. It¡¯s rebuilding me. Layer by layer to match my fathers vision. Knight¡¯s gaze flicked to the screen, her silver eyes narrowing as she took in the data. ¡°Phoenix isn¡¯t just repairing,¡± she said, her voice sharp with realization. ¡°It¡¯s upgrading. It doesn¡¯t just heal¡ªit adapts.¡± The virus wasn¡¯t merely integrating with my genome. It was a living algorithm, constantly analyzing my environment, my biology, even my behavior, and recalibrating itself in real time. Every strand of foreign DNA I consumed provided it with raw material to evolve me further. Knight pulled up another set of data, her movements brisk and precise. ¡°Look here,¡± she said, highlighting a cluster of proteins. ¡°These are biocatalysts¡ªenzymes that enable rapid genetic integration. Your cells aren¡¯t just incorporating foreign DNA; they¡¯re dissecting it, extracting key sequences, and using them to optimize specific functions.¡± ¡°Optimize?¡± I echoed, leaning closer. The data felt overwhelming, but my mind raced to keep up. So¡­ if I ate something with gills, my body would¡ª ¡°Temporarily replicate the structures,¡± Knight interrupted, her voice tinged with grim fascination. ¡°Phoenix doesn¡¯t waste energy on permanent adaptations unless they¡¯re essential. It prioritizes short-term functionality. Gills for underwater survival. Enhanced vision in low light. Increased muscle density for strength. Whatever the host needs, when it needs it.¡± The implications made my stomach churn. But it¡¯s not permanent, I said, my voice quiet. The adaptations fade once the virus determines they¡¯re no longer necessary. Knight nodded, pulling up a time-lapse simulation. The hologram showed a model of my genome, the integrated sequences glowing faintly before fading, replaced by new ones. ¡°Correct. It¡¯s a closed-loop system. Constantly evolving, constantly adapting. But there¡¯s a limit. The virus is constrained by your genetic framework. It¡¯s why your father spent years tailoring you for it¡ªyour genome was designed to accommodate this kind of dynamic evolution.¡± And no one else could survive it, I muttered, my jaw tightening. That¡¯s why it failed in the others. Knight gave me a pointed look. ¡°Exactly. Without your specific modifications, the virus overwhelms the host¡¯s cells, causing catastrophic failure. But with you¡­¡± She gestured at the screen. ¡°It thrives.¡± Her words sent a chill down my spine. The hunger, the whispers, the changes¡ªthey weren¡¯t side effects. They were the virus fulfilling its purpose. I glanced back at the screen, my pulse quickening as another realization hit. ¡°If it can do all this¡­ is there a way to direct it? To control what it adapts to?¡± Knight¡¯s lips curved into a cold smile. ¡°Now you¡¯re thinking like your father. Theoretically, yes. If we control the DNA you consume, we can guide the adaptations. It¡¯s a question of precision and resources.¡± ¡°Resources,¡± I repeated, a bitter edge in my voice. ¡°Like cloning animals to feed me?¡± Knight didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°If the hunger can¡¯t be eliminated, perhaps it can be¡­ redirected. Controlled. Your father always said, ¡®Adaptation is survival.¡¯ If humanity won¡¯t evolve naturally, then perhaps it¡¯s time to force it.¡± Her words settled heavily between us, the cold logic of them undeniable even as they turned my stomach. The first experiments were small. Knight had Jericho¡¯s drones clone basic organisms¡ªfish, birds, small mammals. Consuming them dulled the hunger, the whispers fading to a murmur as my body absorbed their DNA. But the method was horrifying. I ate them raw and alive, their struggling forms adding to the growing weight of my nightmares. The first time, I gagged on feathers and blood, the taste of terror and life lingering long after. I couldn¡¯t sleep that night, the sounds of their last moments replaying over and over in my head. But there was another side to it, one that disturbed me even more. The taste. It was unlike anything else¡ªrich, vibrant, alive. I hated the hunger, but after eating, the satisfaction was intoxicating, a twisted, primal pleasure that made the shame worse. The animals¡¯ screams echoed in my dreams, their terrified eyes seared into my mind. Yet, when the hunger came again, sharper and more relentless, I couldn¡¯t stop myself. The cycle continued, feeding my nightmares and my body alike. The changes weren¡¯t just internal anymore. My body absorbed every ounce of biomass, and it showed. My curves returned, fuller and more pronounced, but beneath them, my muscles grew denser, stronger. My bones thickened, reinforcing themselves to handle the new weight. I still looked the same¡ªsmall, at five feet tall¡ªbut the scale told a different story. I used to weigh barely 100 pounds; now, I weighed 250. My cot groaned under me when I sat down, the metal frame straining against a body that seemed unchanged on the outside but was anything but. Months passed, the days blending into a sterile blur of experiments and data. The drones brought me meals, and I consumed them with a mechanical detachment that only deepened the weight of my nightmares. The whispers were quieter now, dulled by the constant feeding, but their absence only left space for the hollow guilt that followed each experiment. One day, it was just the two of us in Lab 3. The usual hum of activity from Jericho¡¯s drones had faded, leaving only the cold, rhythmic sounds of the equipment and our own voices to fill the silence. Knight stood at the console, her silver eyes flicking between the screens with sharp precision. ¡°It¡¯s a start,¡± she said, studying the data with clinical detachment. ¡°Your father envisioned a future where humanity could adapt to any environment, any threat. You are the prototype. The next step.¡± She tapped the screen again, and a new series of graphs overlaid the genome. ¡°But there¡¯s something else¡­ something only possible because of the way you and the Phoenix virus are intertwined.¡± I frowned at the shifting lines on the display. ¡°What am I looking at?¡± ¡°A fail-safe,¡± Knight said grimly. ¡°One your father never told anyone about. Phoenix isn¡¯t just rewriting your body¡ªit¡¯s backing up your mind, encoding a rough map of your neural patterns into your cells. Technically, if you were reduced to a single cell and given enough time¡ªand enough biomass¡ªyou could regenerate.¡± My heart thudded painfully. ¡°You mean¡­ I could come back from almost nothing?¡± Knight gave a single, curt nod. ¡°In theory. But it wouldn¡¯t be a simple matter of healing in seconds. It would take months, maybe longer, feeding on whatever organic matter is available. And honestly,¡± she added with a dismissive curl of her lip, ¡°the collateral damage you might cause during that time is irrelevant if it furthers our understanding. You¡¯d be little more than an animal¡ªno higher reasoning, no sense of self beyond raw instincts. You¡¯d be a predator, like Wilks was toward the end¡­ or worse. A ravenous horror capable of devouring anything in your path. Eventually, maybe your neural maps would reassert themselves, and you¡¯d regain your sparkling personality¡ªbut there¡¯s no guarantee you¡¯d be anything close to human once it was over.¡± A sick chill settled in my gut. ¡°So¡­ there¡¯s no upper limit to what Phoenix can do?¡± Knight exhaled softly, though her gaze never wavered. ¡°That¡¯s precisely what worries me. Your father left ample room for future evolutions¡ªtransformations even he couldn¡¯t predict. You¡¯re a living blueprint, Sol¡ªa prototype that could, in time, become something truly beyond us. So if you tear through half the crew while molting into your next form¡ªwell, that¡¯s the price of progress.¡± She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. ¡°I can only guess at what you might become after a full catastrophic rebuild. The final evolution, if there is one, might leave you unrecognizable¡ªmentally and physically. But if you ask me, that¡¯s a risk worth taking for a discovery like this.¡± My hands clenched at my sides, fear twisting into something darker¡ªa fascination I couldn¡¯t deny. The virus had given me power, yes, but it had also chained me to its relentless hunger. This wasn¡¯t just survival¡ªit was transformation. My inheritance. And I was only beginning to grasp the scope of what Phoenix¡ªor I¡ªcould become. The lab lights flickered, shadows stretching against the sterile walls. Phoenix wasn¡¯t just reshaping my body; it was reshaping my existence. Every change had purpose, every adaptation followed a plan I couldn¡¯t yet see. But I could feel it pulling at me, driving me toward something vast and inevitable. Phoenix isn¡¯t just changing me. It¡¯s preparing me. For what? The thought slipped through my mind like a blade, cutting and cold. The answer came, soft and serpentine, coiling around my thoughts with undeniable weight. For dominion, my little Phoenix. For what you were born to inherit. The voice was unmistakable¡ªsmooth, commanding, and brimming with a cruel pride. My father. His words slithered into my thoughts, their weight pressing against my chest. Humanity wasn¡¯t meant to share the stars. They were ours to take. And you, my perfect creation, will lead us there. The herald of Earth¡¯s will. The culmination of everything we are meant to be. ¡°Get out,¡± I hissed, my voice barely audible as I pressed my palms to my temples. But the whispers only deepened, like roots digging into my mind. You don¡¯t see it yet, do you? The virus. The Royal Guard. Jericho¡¯s weapons. Even the AI¡ªall of it is yours to command. You were made to lead. To rule. You are my masterpiece, Sol. The spearhead of humanity¡¯s rightful dominion. ¡°No.¡± The word came sharper this time, cutting through the sterile hum of the lab. But his voice lingered, heavy with a twisted certainty. Deny it if you like, but the truth is etched in every strand of your DNA. Phoenix isn¡¯t just a tool¡ªit¡¯s destiny. And you, my little Phoenix, are the only one worthy of it, claim what is yours by birth right. The shadows seemed to press closer, their edges flickering with unnatural weight. My eyes locked onto the glowing strands of DNA on the screen. Phoenix wasn¡¯t just beautiful¡ªit was terrifying, perfect, and undeniably mine. Humanity¡¯s will. My father¡¯s will. Was that all I was meant to be? I exhaled slowly, forcing air into my lungs, grounding myself against the rising tide of his voice. No. The word was sharp, solid¡ªa fragile shield against the whispers. Regret gnawed at me: the lives I¡¯d taken, the animals consumed alive, their screams haunting my dreams. The hunger had made me a monster, but I couldn¡¯t let it define me. I can fix this, I thought, clinging to the hope that understanding Phoenix might help me undo the damage. Whatever my father had planned, I had to believe I could still make something good out of the chaos he left behind. But the hunger stirred, sharper now, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. My nails dug into my palms, blood welling from the crescents they left behind. One adaptation at a time, I told myself, clinging to the thought. I¡¯ll face whatever he¡¯s left for me¡ªbut on my terms. The shadows stilled, their oppressive weight retreating, though not entirely. The hum of Jericho¡¯s systems returned, steady and indifferent. But his voice remained, faint and waiting, threading through the edges of my mind. And deep down, I knew he wouldn¡¯t stay silent for long. Chapter 14 : The Phoenix鈥檚 Cage The whiskey burned on the way down, settling in my chest like a weak shield against the whispers. I swirled the amber liquid in the glass, staring into its depths. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the datapad on the table beside me. Jericho¡¯s hum was a constant presence, the ship alive in its silence, but I was anything but. The hunger was quieter now, manageable in the way a predator might sleep after a kill. But it wasn¡¯t gone. It never would be. Even now, hours after the last feeding, I could feel it stirring, restless, like a beast pacing inside me. I hated it. The cloned chicken had been warm when I¡¯d taken it, its feathers soft and smooth until I¡¯d gripped too tightly, the struggle ending almost as quickly as it began. The virus demanded it that way¡ªraw, fresh, alive. Cooking destroyed the DNA and biomass it needed, and anything less than that left the hunger unsatisfied. I tore into it with shaking hands, the feathers sticking to my lips, blood running down my chin. It should¡¯ve made me gag. And at first, it did. The tang of blood, the crunch of bone, the slick warmth of the flesh¡ªit should have repulsed me. But the virus, that ravenous thing inside me, overrode everything else. Every bite carried a primal satisfaction, a relief that cut through the gnawing pain of hunger. And when it was over? Shame. Its screams lingered, replaying in my mind. The way it had flailed, helpless in my grip. The taste of its life still clung to my tongue, metallic and rich, its warmth lingering long after I¡¯d licked my fingers clean. The hunger had been sated, for now, but the guilt never faded. A knock at the door broke the quiet, sharp and sudden against the heavy stillness. I flinched, pulling myself from the thoughts that spiraled endlessly in my mind. Reid¡¯s voice carried through the door before I could answer, light and familiar. ¡°Open up, Princess. I come bearing gifts.¡± I sighed, setting the glass down and brushing the hair from my face. ¡°What kind of gifts?¡± I called back, trying to shake off the weight that sat heavy on my chest. ¡°Beer,¡± he replied with mock indignation. ¡°What else?¡± The door slid open, and there he was, his smirk firmly in place, a six pack in hand. He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his confidence as easy as always. ¡°Thought I¡¯d find you here,¡± he said, setting one of the bottles on the table and twisting the cap off the other. ¡°You always look like you¡¯re plotting some mad science crap in this room.¡± I raised an eyebrow, trying to force the fog from my mind. ¡°If I were, you¡¯d be the first test subject.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯d make a terrible lab rat,¡± he shot back, dragging a chair over and plopping down across from me. His new cybernetic arm caught the low light as he lifted the bottle to his lips. ¡°Too good-looking. You¡¯d hate to ruin perfection.¡± I snorted, despite myself, shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± ¡°Damn right,¡± he said, his grin softening as he studied me. ¡°How¡¯re you holding up?¡± The question hit harder than it should have. Reid knew enough to tread carefully¡ªenough about the virus, the hunger, the changes I didn¡¯t fully understand. I¡¯d confided in him during one of his countless drop-ins, moments when he¡¯d shown up unannounced just to hang out. At first, I¡¯d only shared fragments of the truth, hesitant to say too much. But Reid had a way of easing past the walls I didn¡¯t even realize I¡¯d built. Over time, I¡¯d opened up, piece by piece. I hadn¡¯t told him everything¡ªnot about my father, or the whispers, or how the virus gnawed at the edges of my sanity¡ªbut he knew enough. He knew about the hunger, how it felt like a primal beast pacing inside me, never truly satisfied. I¡¯d told him about the cloned animals, about how the virus demanded their biomass raw, their DNA untainted by heat or sterilization. I¡¯d even described the shame that followed, the horror of tearing into something alive with my bare hands. Reid had listened, his usual humor subdued, his green eyes shadowed with something I could only read as discomfort. I expected him to pull away, to treat me like the monster I was starting to believe I¡¯d become. But instead, he¡¯d cracked a joke, one that wasn¡¯t funny but still made me laugh, and told me, ¡°You¡¯re still Sol, no matter how weird this shit gets.¡± Classic Reid, sitting there in his Hawaiian shirt and mirrored sunglasses, his blond hair sticking out in every direction like he¡¯d just woken up from the world¡¯s longest nap. He had a knack for deflecting tension with humor, for making everything feel a little less like the end of the world. Even when I told him things that should¡¯ve sent him running, he stayed. Maybe he was disturbed by what I¡¯d said, but he never let it show for long. Now, as he sat across from me, sipping his beer and studying me with that easy grin, I wondered if he¡¯d ever realized how much I needed that. How much I needed someone who didn¡¯t see me as just an experiment or a burden, but as Sol¡ªbroken and strange and trying her best to hold herself together. He didn¡¯t push, didn¡¯t pry, but his questions always reminded me I wasn¡¯t as invisible as I sometimes wanted to be. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said automatically, my voice too steady to be convincing. His raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression made me sigh. ¡°Mostly fine. The feeding helps. For a while.¡± His gaze flicked to the empty plate on the table, where faint traces of grease and feathers still clung to the edges. He didn¡¯t ask what I¡¯d eaten. Maybe he didn¡¯t want to know. ¡°Still weird for you?¡± he asked softly, his usual teasing tone absent. I nodded, my fingers tightening around the glass. ¡°Every time. It¡­ it feels wrong. But it¡¯s the only thing that works.¡± He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°Look, Sol, I don¡¯t pretend to understand what¡¯s going on with you¡ªhell, I don¡¯t think you do half the time¡ªbut you¡¯re still here. That counts for something.¡± ¡°Does it?¡± I murmured, my voice barely audible. The weight of the chicken¡¯s final moments sat heavy in my stomach, more real than the satisfaction the virus had given me. ¡°Sometimes it feels like I¡¯m just¡­ surviving.¡± He shrugged, his movements casual but his eyes serious. ¡°That¡¯s enough for now. One day at a time, Princess. And hey, if you need a break from Knight¡¯s little science hellscape, you know where to find me.¡± I glanced at him, the corner of my mouth twitching despite myself. ¡°What, so you can distract me with bad beer and worse jokes?¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± he said, his grin returning. ¡°I¡¯m a man of many talents, Sol. Keeping you sane is just one of them.¡± I let out a quiet laugh, the sound unfamiliar but welcome. Reid grinned, tipping his sunglasses down just enough to show a flicker of mischief in his green eyes. He launched into some ridiculous story about a malfunctioning drone in hydroponics, complete with exaggerated gestures and sound effects that made no sense. For a little while longer, I let myself sit in his presence, soaking in the warmth of his easy humor. The tension in my chest loosened, like a tightly coiled spring finally easing, as we talked about nothing important. It wasn¡¯t peace¡ªnot really¡ªbut it was close enough. Reid had a way of doing that, of making the ship¡¯s suffocating weight feel lighter, even if only for a moment. The drinks helped, too¡ªthe familiar burn tracing a path down my throat, dulling the sharper edges of my thoughts. The room softened around the edges, the hum of the ship fading into the background. Reid gave me a mock salute as he stood to leave, his prosthetic hand gleaming under the dim light. ¡°Don¡¯t let the bedbugs bite,¡± he quipped, pausing at the doorway. ¡°Or, you know, whatever creepy thing lives in your nightmares these days.¡± ¡°Thanks for that,¡± I shot back, rolling my eyes. But the corners of my mouth tugged into a reluctant smile, and I didn¡¯t try to fight it. He winked and disappeared into the hallway, his footsteps fading into the hum of Jericho¡¯s engines. The room felt quieter, emptier after he left. For now, it was just me, the lingering warmth of his presence, and the drink in my hand. The nightmares would come, as they always did, clawing at the edges of my sleep. But for now, I let myself sit a little longer, savoring the fleeting calm. It wasn¡¯t peace¡ªnot really¡ªbut it was close enough. And for tonight, that was all I could ask for. The dream wrapped around me like a second skin, suffocating and inescapable. It started in a place that should¡¯ve been familiar¡ªmy father¡¯s lab. The hum of machines buzzed softly in the background, their lights casting faint, sterile halos against the walls. I was seated on the familiar stool beside his workbench, legs dangling just above the floor, like I was a child again. But something was off. The air felt heavier, the colors muted, as if the room itself were holding its breath. My father stood over me, his white lab coat pristine, his face unreadable behind those thin, wire-rimmed glasses he always wore. His hands moved with precision, adjusting dials and scribbling notes, never sparing me more than a glance. That was normal¡ªtoo normal. But when he finally looked at me, his expression was hollow, his eyes flat, like the man I remembered wasn¡¯t entirely there. ¡°Did you eat?¡± His voice was calm, clinical, and yet it scraped against my nerves like nails on glass. I blinked at him, confused. ¡°Eat? What do you mean?¡± He turned, holding up a tray I hadn¡¯t noticed before. On it was a small, trembling shape¡ªa rabbit, its fur matted with sweat, its tiny chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. My stomach churned at the sight, but the hunger stirred, sharp and insistent, crawling under my skin. ¡°You¡¯re hungry, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asked, tilting his head. ¡°You need it, Sol. The DNA, the biomass. That¡¯s what you¡¯re made for.¡± I recoiled, shaking my head. ¡°No. I don¡¯t need that. I¡¯m fine.¡± His lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. ¡°You¡¯re lying. To me. To yourself.¡± He set the tray down, stepping closer, his presence looming. ¡°Don¡¯t deny what you are.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡± The words caught in my throat as I glanced down. My hands were changing, the nails elongating into claws, the skin taking on an unnatural sheen. Panic surged through me, and I looked back at my father. His face hadn¡¯t changed, but something in his yellow eyes gleamed, cold and knowing. ¡°You¡¯re perfect,¡± my father said, his yellow eyes faintly aglow in the dim light of the lab. But something was wrong. His voice was fractured, layered, as if two people were speaking in unison. One voice was his¡ªcold and clinical. The other was deeper, raw, laced with something almost¡­ pained. ¡°My masterpiece.¡± ¡°No,¡± I whispered, my voice trembling. ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡± My reflection in the glass panel beside the workbench caught my eye. At first, it was just me¡ªsmall, pale, my white hair faintly catching the glow of the lab lights. But then the image twisted. My skin darkened, ridged and unnatural. My jaw stretched, elongating as sharp teeth glinted, catching the faint light. My mouth opened in a silent scream, and the monster in the glass snarled back, its mismatched eyes¡ªone crimson, one blue¡ªburning into mine. I stumbled backward, heart pounding. ¡°What the fuck. That¡¯s not me. It¡¯s not¡ª¡± The mirror shattered, the sound deafening. When I turned, Wilks was there. Or what was left of him. His body was warped and burned, hunched over, his limbs too long and slick with a grotesque sheen. His face was barely recognizable, stretched and broken, red eyes glowing faintly from deep-set sockets. He moved like something from a nightmare, his steps slack and jerky, yet impossibly fast. ¡°You¡¯re like me,¡± he hissed, his voice wet and guttural, a sound that made my stomach lurch. ¡°We¡¯re the same, useful monsters.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a monster!¡± I screamed, but the hunger roared, drowning out my voice. It surged through me, clawing, demanding, insatiable. Wilks lunged, and I didn¡¯t flinch¡ªI lashed out. My claws tore through flesh, warm blood splattering across my face. The hunger roared louder, exultant, as I ripped into him, my teeth sinking into the raw meat of his shoulder. The taste filled my senses, rich and intoxicating, and for a moment, the horror of it faded beneath the satisfaction. I was consuming him, and I couldn¡¯t stop. His laughter broke through the haze, twisted and mocking. ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± he rasped. ¡°You¡¯ll become his next tool.¡± I stumbled back, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth, my hands slick with it. The room spun, the walls blurring as Wilks¡¯s form twisted and dissolved into the shadows. The mirror reformed, and the monster in the glass was me. Entirely me. I gasped, jerking upright in bed, the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around my legs. My breath came in ragged bursts, my chest heaving as the phantom taste lingered on my tongue. It wasn¡¯t real. But it could be. I dragged my hand over my face, fingers brushing against my cheekbone, my mismatched eyes catching faint reflections in the screen of my datapad. Blue. Red. They stared back at me, mocking the memory of the dream. My throat tightened as I forced my breathing to slow. It was just a nightmare, I told myself, a sick manifestation of everything I was terrified of becoming. But that didn¡¯t make it easier to shake. A familiar hum crackled to life, the voice smooth and detached, yet unmistakable. ¡°Sol,¡± Jericho¡¯s voice buzzed softly through the room¡¯s speakers. ¡°I detected elevated heart rate, irregular breathing, and physical agitation. Are you well?¡± I groaned, running a hand through my damp hair. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Jericho. Just a nightmare.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± it replied, though there was no comfort in its tone. Jericho was not programmed for comfort. ¡°Lion is aware of your distress. Do you require a medical evaluation?¡± Of course, Lion knew. Of course, he was watching. He always was. ¡°No,¡± I said sharply, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor against my feet grounded me, but it did nothing to ease the knot in my chest. ¡°Just drop it.¡± Jericho didn¡¯t respond, but its hum lingered, a low, pulsing rhythm that felt almost alive¡ªa constant reminder that privacy on this ship was an illusion. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d sensed its attention, that quiet, unspoken presence that seemed to watch from the shadows, making my skin crawl. The soft chime of a notification startled me, pulling my attention to the datapad blinking faintly on the desk. I reached for it, my hand still trembling, and swiped the screen to life. Another message from Vega. Of course. I let out a quiet sigh, sinking back into the mattress. Jericho¡¯s voice might¡¯ve gone silent, but its watchful eye¡ªand Lion¡¯s¡ªnever truly left. It was just another reminder that I wasn¡¯t allowed even the sanctity of my nightmares. The subject line was as clipped and precise as her tone always was: ¡°Rotation Schedule Update: Immediate Action Required.¡± I opened it with a swipe, the glowing text reflecting in my tired eyes.
FROM: Lt. Evelyn Vega TO: Sol Voss SUBJECT: Rotation Schedule Update: Immediate Action Required Sol, Following the council¡¯s latest deliberation, a decision has been made regarding the ship¡¯s current operational strategy. After six months of running at maximum speed to put distance between Jericho and the Hemlock¡¯s last known location, we have reached a point where slowing to standard operational speed is both necessary and prudent. While the mystery surrounding the Hemlock remains unresolved, with no new breakthroughs regarding the plasma scorch marks or their origin, the council has decided that maintaining vigilance is essential, but further strain on resources is unsustainable. The plasma damage observed on the Hemlock¡¯s engine remains a matter of concern, but without additional evidence of an immediate threat, we must balance caution with pragmatism. As a result, Team D will now take over ship operations, allowing all members of Teams A, B, and C to return to cryo for the next three months. Dr. Knight will return to cryo with Team B, while you will be scheduled to reawaken with Team A at the conclusion of this rotation. During this period, the automated drones will continue testing and refining the Phoenix serums. Both the inhibitor and accelerant show potential, but further time is needed for synthesis and validation. Your physiological feedback and expertise will remain critical once testing resumes during your next wake cycle. Please use the remaining time of 48 hours to prepare for cryo and to ensure any unfinished tasks are handed off to the next rotation. The council emphasizes the importance of rest and recovery, particularly given the extraordinary demands placed upon you during this past year. Attached: [Rotation Schedule Overview] Lt. Evelyn Vega
The words on the screen blurred slightly as I stared at them, the tight knot in my chest growing heavier with every sentence. They were sending me back to cryo. Again. Just when we were starting to make progress, when the Phoenix tests were finally beginning to make sense. Three months wasn¡¯t much in the grand scheme of things, but to me, it felt like an eternity. The drones could do a lot, but they weren¡¯t me¡ªor Knight. I clenched my fists, the datapad trembling slightly in my grip. The rational part of me understood. The ship¡¯s resources were stretched thin, and I was part of the problem. I ate more than three people combined. Every cloned animal I consumed wasn¡¯t just another drop in the supply chain¡ªit was a glaring reminder of the strain I placed on Jericho. But understanding didn¡¯t make it sting any less. The hunger stirred at the back of my mind, restless and persistent, as if sensing my agitation. I hated that it was always there, like a shadow I could never shake. My father¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, unbidden: ¡°You¡¯re perfect. My masterpiece.¡± Perfect. Right. A perfect burden. I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the datapad still glowing in my hands. For a moment, I let myself stew in the frustration, the disappointment. It wasn¡¯t fair. None of this was. But fair didn¡¯t matter out here¡ªnot on Jericho. Before I could talk myself out of it, I opened the message reply window and began typing, my fingers flying over the screen with barely controlled anger.
Subject: Re: Rotation Schedule Update: Immediate Action Required Lt. Vega, I understand the council¡¯s decision, but I can¡¯t go back into cryo right now. Not when we¡¯re so close to real progress with the Phoenix tests. The drones can handle the basics, but they don¡¯t have the insight or adaptability that Knight and I bring to the table. If we just had a little more time, we could push these prototypes further, maybe even get them ready for initial trials. I know I consume more resources than most, but I¡¯m willing to make adjustments¡ªcut back, ration more tightly, whatever it takes. Sending me to cryo now feels like halting the momentum we¡¯ve worked so hard to build. Please reconsider. -Sol
I hit send before I could second-guess myself, the knot in my chest tightening as the message disappeared from the screen. It was bold, maybe too bold, but I couldn¡¯t just sit back and let them sideline me without trying. The reply came quicker than I expected. Vega¡¯s name flashed on the screen, her message carrying the same no-nonsense authority she always had.
Subject: Re: Rotation Schedule Update: Immediate Action Required Sol, Your commitment to the Phoenix project is commendable, but this is not a matter of negotiation. The council¡¯s decision is final, and it is not without reason. Your physiological condition requires a caloric and nutritional intake that far exceeds the average crew member¡¯s consumption. To put it plainly: you are eating us out of house and home. The cloning labs and hydroponics bay cannot keep pace with your current needs while simultaneously preparing for the next rotation¡¯s requirements. We are operating under tight constraints, and every resource must be optimized for long-term sustainability. You will return to cryo with Team A as scheduled, and Knight will follow with Team B. Use the remaining time to ensure a smooth handoff of tasks to the drones and prepare for cryo. Knight has already informed us of your progress with the two serums you have created, but she has also stated that it will take several months for them to synthesize fully. In her words, this leaves you and her to ¡°twiddle your thumbs¡± in the meantime. When you wake in three months, you¡¯ll have the resources and support needed to continue your work without straining the ship¡¯s systems. During this time, the cloning facilities and hydroponics bay will replenish our food supplies, allowing us to support not only you but the rest of the crew as well. With much of the crew awake for extended periods, we are running dangerously low, and these three months are critical to rebuilding our reserves. This decision is not up for debate. Prepare to return to cryo within the next 48 hours. -Lt. Evelyn Vega
The message sat on the screen, its blunt practicality a final nail in the coffin of my hopes. I reread the words, letting them settle over me like a weighted blanket. "Twiddle your thumbs." Knight must have thought that was clever. I stared at the glowing screen, my chest tightening with frustration. I wanted to argue, to demand they let me stay awake, to keep fighting for the project that felt like the only thing giving my existence purpose. But even as the anger rose, I knew it was pointless. Vega¡¯s logic was unassailable, her tone making it clear that she wouldn¡¯t entertain any objections. Three months. I¡¯d be asleep, frozen while the world moved on. Again. My jaw clenched as I resisted the urge to throw the datapad across the room. Instead, I placed it down carefully, my hand lingering on the edge of the device as if letting go would make the message more real. "Fine," I muttered to no one in particular, the word bitter on my tongue. "Three months." The hunger stirred faintly, a quiet, restless presence that I couldn¡¯t quite ignore. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus. If I couldn¡¯t stop this decision, I could at least make sure the work we¡¯d started wouldn¡¯t lose momentum. I pushed myself to my feet, the datapad still glowing softly on the desk behind me. The room felt too small, the walls pressing in as the reality of the situation settled in my chest. Three months. For now, all I could do was prepare. The lab was unnervingly quiet, the faint hum of Jericho¡¯s systems the only sound accompanying the soft glow of the monitors. Drones hovered above the workstations, completing tasks with inhuman precision, while Knight stood at the main console, her almond-shaped eyes fixed on the data streaming across the screen. Her expression, as always, was unreadable¡ªcold, detached, entirely focused. I sat on a stool near the far end of the lab, absently tapping my fingers against the counter. The hunger was quiet for now, subdued after my last feeding, but it still lingered beneath the surface like an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch. The cloned chicken had helped, but the relief was always temporary, a fleeting reprieve from the endless demands of the virus. Knight broke the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. ¡°The suppressor serum shows the most promise. If we can stabilize the dosage and isolate the reaction pathways, we might finally have a way to tailor the virus.¡± Her gaze flicked to the vials, lingering a moment too long. ¡°It¡¯s the only way to adapt the virus without¡­¡± She hesitated, the clinical edge in her tone faltering for just a moment. ¡°Without repeating past mistakes.¡± Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Something about the way she avoided my gaze set my nerves on edge, but before I could press her, she turned back to the console, her expression unreadable. ¡°To tailor it to other people¡­ just how many people have you and my father given Phoenix to, other than Wilks and the crew of the Hemlock?¡± I asked, my voice tight, the question barely hiding the accusation underneath. Knight didn¡¯t look up, her fingers continuing their fluid motions across the holographic display. ¡°Far more than you could count,¡± she said, her tone calm in a way that made my skin crawl. After a pause, she added, almost too casually, ¡°And some that can never be replaced.¡± Her words hit like a gut punch, the weight of them settling in my chest. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± I asked, but she didn¡¯t respond. Her silence was answer enough, and it said more than I wanted to hear. ¡°The suppressor,¡± she continued after a moment, as if steering the conversation back to safer ground, ¡°reduces the virus¡¯s regenerative effects and dampens the hunger. It¡¯s not a cure, but it¡¯s a step toward making the virus survivable for others¡ªif we can refine it.¡± Her tone was calm, clinical, but there was something else beneath it, a tightness she was trying to mask. I could tell she knew more than she was letting on, something bigger than just tailoring the virus to others. The way she avoided looking at me only deepened my suspicion. ¡°And the accelerant?¡± I asked, my eyes narrowing. I already knew what she was going to say, but I needed to hear it again. Knight¡¯s lips curved in a faint, almost bitter smile. ¡°A curiosity,¡± she said. ¡°It amplifies everything¡ªthe regeneration, the hunger, the physical changes. Useful in theory, but too unstable to be practical. It¡¯s not meant for survivability, not really.¡± ¡°Then why even bother with it?¡± I pressed, leaning forward. Knight hesitated, just for a moment, before answering. ¡°Because it helps us understand limits. The suppressor and accelerant are opposites. Together, they show us what¡¯s possible¡ªand what isn¡¯t.¡± Her gaze flicked briefly to the accelerant vial on the table, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, like she was talking to herself as much as to me. ¡°Your father believed the accelerant could help... bridge gaps. Push boundaries no one thought could be crossed. He had theories about what the human mind could endure under its influence. The accelerant wasn¡¯t about healing¡ªit was about transformation.¡± She caught herself then, straightening as if she¡¯d said too much. ¡°But it¡¯s all theoretical. Nothing more. It¡¯s far too unstable to use.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Her attempt to brush it off didn¡¯t land. I stared at her, the pieces clicking into place in the back of my mind. Transformation. Survival. The virus wasn¡¯t just about regeneration or hunger¡ªit was something much bigger, something Knight clearly didn¡¯t want me to fully understand yet. ¡°You¡¯re hiding something,¡± I said quietly, watching her closely. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about adapting the virus, is it?¡± Knight¡¯s gaze stayed locked on the display, her movements more deliberate now. ¡°You¡¯re reading too much into it,¡± she said, her voice smooth but just a little too rehearsed. ¡°Focus on the suppressor. That¡¯s where the real work is.¡± She was lying, or at least withholding the truth. But whatever it was, I knew pushing her further wouldn¡¯t get me anywhere. Not yet. Knight wasn¡¯t the type to let anything slip unless she wanted to. I nodded, though her explanation did little to ease the unease that settled in my chest. I glanced at the vials lined up on the table, their contents faintly glowing under the sterile light. Months of work distilled into fragile glass containers, each one holding the potential to reshape my future¡ªor destroy it. ¡°We¡¯re close, Knight,¡± I said softly. ¡°You know we are. If we just had more time¡ª¡± ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± she interrupted, turning her sharp gaze on me. ¡°The council has made their decision, and it¡¯s the right one. The suppressor will take months to synthesize fully, and we can¡¯t test it without you. There¡¯s nothing more to be done right now.¡± I clenched my fists, the tension in my body matching the frustration in my voice. ¡°We¡¯ve come so far. You can¡¯t expect me to just... stop.¡± Knight sighed, her tone as clinical as ever. ¡°You¡¯re not stopping. You¡¯re pausing. Three months in cryo will allow the drones to do their work and give the cloning facilities time to replenish our food supply. Or did you think you could keep eating enough for three people without consequences?¡± Her words hit like a slap, and I looked away, my jaw tightening. She wasn¡¯t wrong. The council had made that painfully clear¡ªmy rations, my existence, were a strain on the ship. Even with the cloning facilities, the resources required to sustain me were unsustainable in the long term. It was logical. Necessary. But that didn¡¯t make it any easier to accept. ¡°What about the other projects?¡± I blurted. ¡°Wyvern, Leviathan, Hydra¡ªthey¡¯re just sitting there, collecting dust. Why can¡¯t we work on those while we wait for the suppressor to synthesize?¡± Knight paused, her fingers hovering over the holographic display. She didn¡¯t look at me right away, her silver eyes focused on the streaming data. Finally, she sighed, as though I¡¯d asked a question with an obvious answer. ¡°Because you¡¯re not ready,¡± she said simply, her tone even, almost dismissive. ¡°Not ready?¡± I repeated, heat rising in my chest. ¡°I have captain-level clearance, Knight. I know what I¡¯m doing.¡± Her lips twitched in that almost-smile again, and this time, she turned to face me. ¡°You have captain-level clearance,¡± she said slowly, as if explaining to a child, ¡°because Lion trusts you. Not because you¡¯re ready. And not because anyone here thinks you¡¯re capable of handling the truth.¡± I bristled, the irritation bubbling over. ¡°What use is that clearance if everyone still bosses me around? What¡¯s the point if I¡¯m not allowed to do anything with it?¡± Knight laughed¡ªa sharp, short sound that grated against my nerves. ¡°Oh, Sol,¡± she said, shaking her head, ¡°you really don¡¯t get it, do you? That clearance is the only leash we have on you. Lion might trust you, but trust is dangerous, especially for someone like you.¡± Her words stung more than I cared to admit, but I pushed past the anger. ¡°You keep saying Lion trusts me because of my father. What exactly did my father tell Lion? What orders did he leave?¡± Knight¡¯s laughter came again, this time softer, tinged with something I couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯d love to know,¡± she said, turning back to the console. ¡°But that¡¯s not something you¡¯re ready for either.¡± The weight of her words settled heavily on my shoulders, and I forced myself to look back at the vials. The suppressor was our only real hope, but it was fragile¡ªlike everything else in this lab, in this ship, in my life. ¡°Now,¡± Knight continued, her tone firm again, ¡°rest up. We¡¯re short on time as it is, and the drones need their final orders. So do me a favor, Sol, and leave.¡± Her dismissal cut deeper than it should have. I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my tongue. Instead, I turned on my heel and left, the door hissing shut behind me with a finality that felt suffocating. The whispers surged as I walked, feeding off my frustration. You¡¯re wasting time, little Phoenix, they hissed. They¡¯re hiding everything from you. They don¡¯t trust you. They¡¯ll never trust you. My chest tightened, the weight of their words pressing down on me. Knight¡¯s laughter echoed in my ears, her cryptic warnings twisting into something more sinister. I thought of the other projects, the locked doors, the way everyone spoke about my father¡¯s legacy as if it were a burden too heavy to share. The hunger stirred faintly, a restless reminder of the thing inside me that no one¡ªnot even Knight¡ªfully understood. I clenched my fists, the tension in my body coiling tighter with every step. Three months in cryo. Three months frozen while the world moved on, while they made decisions I wasn¡¯t part of, while they kept secrets I was never meant to uncover. No. Not this time. The lab¡¯s hum faded behind me as I stormed out, but the whispers only grew louder. They fed off my frustration, my anger, my desperation, pushing me closer to the edge. And for the first time, I didn¡¯t push them away. You¡¯re out of time. The whispers. Always there, always prodding, but now they were different. Urgent. Directed. The virus wasn¡¯t just a part of me¡ªit had a will, a presence that gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. I gripped the railing of the walkway, the cool metal grounding me for a moment as I fought to steady my breath. Lab 3 showed you what you are. Now find the rest. Find my book. Find the truth. The book. My father¡¯s notebook. The one brimming with theories I could finally begin to unravel¡­ if anyone could truly understand his genius¡ªor his madness, it had to be me. His shorthand was a language I had grown up learning to decipher, a secret code I cracked while perched at his side, back when I was still just his daughter and not this... thing. I understood how he thought, how he twisted his ideas into meticulous, maddening detail. Every word in that notebook was a piece of him¡ªof his vision, his obsession, his legacy. Even with captain-level clearance, Jericho¡¯s systems remained frustratingly out of reach, vital details sealed behind layers of encryption or withheld entirely under Lion¡¯s watchful eye. Whatever answers I sought weren¡¯t hidden there¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t be. They¡¯d be in the book, tucked away in my father¡¯s quarters, waiting for me. The thought clung to me like a shadow as I stepped into my quarters, the door hissing shut behind me. My gaze landed on the bottle of secret moonshine Reid had left me, its makeshift label peeling at the edges. ¡°Voss Reserve: For When Shit Gets Real.¡± Reid¡¯s creation was strictly against the captains¡¯ rules¡ªalcohol wasn¡¯t exactly on the approved resource list¡ªbut when had that ever stopped him? He¡¯d made it anyway, in secret, because that¡¯s just who he was: reckless, resourceful, and entirely unapologetic. Booze was tightly regulated on Jericho, limited to a few weak beers or whatever private stash the captains had squirreled away¡ªlike the bottle of whiskey I¡¯d stolen from Warren a few months back. I smirked at the thought, glancing at the peeling label on the moonshine. This, at least, felt like a proper rebellion. I snorted, muttering under my breath, ¡°Fuck it. Might as well get rid of the evidence anyway.¡± Kicking off my boots with a careless shove, I stripped out of my pressure suit, letting the heavy material fall into a heap on the floor. The weight of everything¡ªthe whispers clawing at the edges of my thoughts, the gnawing hunger that never really left, the unrelenting pressure of existing¡ªfelt like it was dragging me down. I found my robe, soft and oversized, and slipped it over my shoulders, tying it loosely around my waist. Underneath, I wore only my underwear, the absence of constriction offering a strange sense of freedom. No armor. No pretense. Just me, stripped bare and raw. The bottle was cool in my hand as I twisted off the cap, the sharp scent of Reid¡¯s concoction hitting me like a punch. I took a long swig, the burn rushing down my throat and settling heavily in my chest. For a moment, it dulled the edges of the whispers, the constant buzz in my head quieting just enough for me to breathe. I collapsed onto the bed, the moonshine in one hand and the other dragging through my tangled platinum hair. My mismatched eyes caught their faint reflection in the blank screen of my datapad¡ªblue and red, glowing softly in the dim light of the room. They stared back at me, accusing, questioning. You¡¯re wasting time, Sol. The whispers crawled back in, relentless. Find the book. Find the truth. ¡°Shut up,¡± I growled, taking another drink. The liquid burned less this time, settling into a warm haze that crept through my veins. I set the bottle on the nightstand, leaning back against the headboard. The whispers didn¡¯t listen¡ªthey never did. If anything, the alcohol seemed to embolden them. You¡¯re the Phoenix. Act like it. Prove it. Before they take everything away. I tried to watch old Earth shows to forget, their flickering images a desperate attempt to drown out the whispers. It didn¡¯t work. The voices clawed at the edges of my thoughts, demanding action. Lion will know what you¡¯re planning. He¡¯ll find my book and take away any hope you have of finding the truth before he allows it. ¡°Fuck off,¡± I muttered, slumping deeper into the bed, pulling the thin sheet tighter around my body. But the voice persisted, mocking me. Jericho is listening, even now. It hears your words if not mine. It knows what you¡¯re planning, what you¡¯re thinking, my little Phoenix¡ªthe perfect princess locked away in her tower, waiting for a knight who will never come. I grabbed the bottle of moonshine Reid had left me and took another long swig, the burn doing little to quiet the rising tension in my chest. The virus simmered under my skin, restless, relentless. I tried reading, flipping through an old novel on my datapad, but the words blurred, meaningless under the growing weight of the whispers. The first knock came from Reid. He arrived with another bottle and a plan to celebrate my last day awake. His voice carried through the door, warm and teasing. ¡°C¡¯mon, Princess, open up. Don¡¯t make me drink this alone.¡± I opened the door just long enough to take the bottle from his hands. ¡°Fuck off, Reid,¡± I said, slamming it shut again before he could reply. It hurt. Everything hurt. But it was easier this way. Twelve hours later, Vega came by, her sharp, no-nonsense tone cutting through the growing fog in my head. She knocked twice before speaking. ¡°Sol, I know you¡¯re in there. We need to talk. Don¡¯t make me override the lock.¡± I didn¡¯t answer. The silence dragged until I heard her sigh, her footsteps retreating down the corridor. Knight came next, her voice clinical and detached, but with an edge of curiosity I couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°Sol, you¡¯re only making this harder on yourself. The work will continue, whether you like it or not.¡± I leaned against the door, letting the cool metal press against my forehead as I murmured, ¡°Eat shit, Knight.¡± She left soon after. By the time Lion sent a drone to my quarters, the whispers had reached a fever pitch. His voice, calm and commanding, emanated from the machine. ¡°Highness, this behavior is unproductive. You are drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Open the door.¡± The anger burned hot as I stared at the drone¡¯s glowing lens through the camera. Its silent, unblinking gaze gnawed at me, a constant reminder of the surveillance I couldn¡¯t escape. My mismatched eyes narrowed, frustration surging like a live wire. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to listen to me, you golden prick,¡± I muttered, venom dripping from every word. Destroy it, the whispers urged, coiling tighter around my thoughts. Show them your strength. Take control. I pushed off the bed, the haze of alcohol dulling the edges of my pain but sharpening my anger. My robe hung loose on my shoulders, the pale fabric still clean but soon to change. The floor was cold under my bare feet as I crossed the room, each step fueled by the fire simmering in my chest. The door hissed open just long enough for me to strike. My hand lashed out in a blur, claws barely forming as I drove my fist into the drone. The frame crumpled like paper under the force, sparks flickering before the light died completely. It hit the floor with a satisfying crunch. Pain flared as my knuckles split, the skin tearing from the impact. Blood dripped onto my robe, staining it in deep crimson streaks, but I didn¡¯t care. The virus surged, stitching me back together before the sting had a chance to linger. The whispers roared in triumph, their voices a chaotic chorus in my head. Good. You¡¯re the Phoenix. Burn brighter. I stared down at the shattered remains of the drone, my chest heaving, the smell of scorched circuits thick in the air. For a moment, I thought I saw something in the shadows beyond the door¡ªa flicker of yellow eyes, unblinking and aware. Then the door slid shut, leaving me alone with my anger and the faint echo of what I¡¯d done. ¡°I know you can hear me,¡± I said to the empty room, my voice low and rough. ¡°You follow a fucking ghost, Lion. I don¡¯t trust you. I don¡¯t think I ever can.¡± Alone again. But not at peace. I glanced at my hand, the faint shimmer of healing tissue disappearing as the pain subsided. My bones had shattered on impact, but they were whole again now, as if nothing had happened. I flexed my fingers, testing their strength. The drone¡¯s shields hadn¡¯t flared¡ªnot because they couldn¡¯t have, but because Lion didn¡¯t want to hurt me. He didn¡¯t want to fight me. He wanted to control me. The thought sent another ripple of anger through me, hot and bitter. The room tilted slightly as I stood, some indeterminate time later. Hours had passed, maybe more. My back ached from leaning against the door for so long, and my legs felt shaky, though I stayed upright. The virus wouldn¡¯t let me collapse, no matter how much I drank. The moonshine coursed through my system, strong enough to leave me buzzing but not enough to dull the sharp edge of my thoughts. It felt deliberate, like the virus was letting me stay in this maddening state¡ªtoo drunk to think clearly, but too sober to stop. The final hours before cryo were slipping away, and I was locked in my quarters, pacing like a caged animal. The bottle dangled from my fingers, half-empty but still potent. The whispers surged, louder now, wrapping around my mind like chains. The book. My father¡¯s voice mingled with theirs, insistent and low. You¡¯re wasting your potential. They¡¯ll find out soon enough. Jericho¡¯s watching. Lion¡¯s watching. You¡¯re out of time, little Phoenix. I paced faster, the bottle sloshing as I took another swig. The burn hit my throat, but it didn¡¯t stop me. It didn¡¯t slow me down. My steps were uneven, erratic, my robe hanging loose on my shoulders as I moved. I tightened the belt with one hand, trying to shake off the feeling that the walls were closing in. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do, huh?¡± I spat, gesturing wildly at the empty air. ¡°Just sit here? Go back to cryo and pretend I¡¯m not¡ª¡± The words caught in my throat, the sentence unfinished. My grip on the bottle tightened, my knuckles white as I slammed it down on the desk. The sound echoed in the silence, sharp and final. My gaze flicked toward the door. The thought came unbidden, clearer than anything else had been all night. Find it. Prove them wrong. Show them why you¡¯re the Phoenix. My father¡¯s quarters were sealed, but I knew how to get in. The whispers told me it was mine by right¡ªmy inheritance, waiting for me. If the book was there¡ªand it had to be¡ªit would hold the answers I needed. No more waiting. No more lies. No more letting them decide what I could and couldn¡¯t know. ¡°Fuck it,¡± I muttered, pushing the chair aside as I stood. My robe clung loosely to my frame, offering little protection from the cool air as I stepped toward the door. My bare feet were silent against the floor, the chill biting at my skin, but I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t. The corridor stretched ahead of me, dimly lit, the hum of Jericho¡¯s engines vibrating beneath my feet. The ship was alive, aware, always watching. But I didn¡¯t care. Let it watch. Let it see why my father had chosen me. The door to his quarters loomed ahead, its panel glowing faintly. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I swiped my clearance. Unsurprisingly, the red light flashed, denying me entry. I didn¡¯t hesitate. My fingers elongated, claws extending as my muscles thickened, bones shifting with an audible crack. The virus surged, its heat flooding my system, fueling me with a primal, relentless energy. I jammed my clawed hands into the seam of the door, gripping the cold, unyielding metal as the hydraulics hissed in protest, the servos groaning in defiance. Pain tore through my arms as my muscles strained against the resistance, fibers shredding under the immense pressure only to knit themselves back together moments later. The virus worked tirelessly, pulling resources from the rest of my body to reinforce my arms¡ªmuscles grew denser, bones thickened, every cell pushed beyond its natural limit. My body was consuming itself to fuel this unnatural strength, leaving a gnawing emptiness in its wake. The hunger roared to life, sharp and insistent, a beast unleashed within me. It demanded more¡ªmore energy, more biomass, more everything¡ªto sustain the impossible strain I was putting on my body. Blood slicked my hands, dripping onto the floor as the cycle of tearing and healing repeated, each regeneration making me stronger, harder, more unrelenting. My teeth clenched as I pulled, the heat of the virus burning through every nerve, driving me forward. The servos screamed as the metal began to give, groaning under the relentless pressure. With a final, guttural cry, I tore the door apart. The panels ripped free with a screech of tortured steel, the shattered edges cutting into my palms. I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t stop. The stale air of the room hit me like a wall, heavy and stagnant, untouched for years. The whispers surged, their approval sharp and insistent in my mind. Good girl, my father¡¯s voice murmured, dark and resonant, carrying the weight of his authority. Now claim what¡¯s yours. Show them why the Voss name is humanity¡¯s salvation. I stepped inside, my body trembling from the strain of its transformation. The hunger still gnawed at my core, relentless and demanding, but it wasn¡¯t the worst of it. The room pressed in around me, shadows stretching across the walls like they were alive, watching. The air was heavy, laced with a faint metallic tang and the sweetness of disuse. It was too still, too perfect, untouched like an artifact waiting to be unearthed. You¡¯ve wasted enough time, my father¡¯s voice hissed, sharper now, cutting through the fog in my mind. The other whispers grew bolder, feeding off his tone, their fragmented voices rising like a tide. Finish it Princess of humanity! Take what is rightfully yours oh, Queen of the Stars! I forced myself forward, the room¡¯s silence wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. Everything here felt preserved, sterile, as though frozen in time. But I knew better. This room wasn¡¯t dead. It was waiting¡ªfor me. I had only taken a few steps when faint, mechanical whirs broke the stillness. Three drones floated into the room, their polished surfaces gleaming in the low light, their glowing eyes fixed on me. Lion¡¯s voice followed, calm and measured, though the undercurrent of urgency was unmistakable. ¡°Highness,¡± Lion¡¯s voice resonated as the drones floated into the room, their lenses glowing faintly. ¡°You need to stop. You don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re doing. This is not the way.¡± The hum of the ship deepened, vibrating through the walls like a warning. It wasn¡¯t just a machine¡ªit felt aware, its presence pressing against me like an unseen force. ¡°Jericho protects its own,¡± Lion continued, his tone measured but firm. ¡°Your father trusted us to complete his work.¡± I froze, my heart pounding as my claws flexed instinctively. Elongating further, the reinforced bone glinted faintly under the dim light. A dull ache throbbed in my hands as my canines sharpened further, my body reshaping itself to meet the demands of the hunger roaring inside me. The shredded skin of my palms stitched itself back together with unsettling speed, the virus greedily pulling resources from the rest of my body. I could feel the drain, the gnawing emptiness left behind as my body sacrificed itself for strength. The hunger screamed louder, clawing at my thoughts, but my voice came out cold and steady. ¡°Follow my command, Lion, or shut the fuck up.¡± The drones didn¡¯t move back. One floated closer, its shield shimmering faintly as Lion¡¯s voice buzzed through its speaker. ¡°Your father trusted us, Highness. He trusted me. He was the greatest mind humanity has ever known. You must honor his plan.¡± I clenched my fists, trembling with rage. ¡°My father,¡± I hissed, ¡°is the reason I¡¯m in this mess. And if you think I¡¯ll trust a ghost or his goddamn machine, you¡¯re delusional.¡± Lion¡¯s voice softened, almost pleading. ¡°This is not what he intended. You are jeopardizing everything¡ª¡± Something inside me snapped. The hunger roared, the whispers screaming Do it. Destroy. Take control. With a guttural cry, I lunged at the closest drone, my claws slashing through its polished casing with a screech of metal. Sparks erupted as the drone sputtered, its glowing eye flickering before it crashed to the floor, lifeless. Pain shot through my arm, the force of the impact splintering bone and tearing muscle, but I didn¡¯t stop. The virus surged, knitting the damage back together even as I turned to the second drone. My breath came in ragged gasps, each one feeding the fire burning in my chest. ¡°Highness, stop this!¡± Lion¡¯s voice rose in desperation, but I was past listening. I grabbed the second drone midair, its servos whining in protest as my claws dug into its frame. With a furious snarl, I slammed it into the wall, the impact shaking the room. It crumpled like tin, wires snapping and sparks flying as it hit the floor in a twisted heap. The last drone hovered just out of reach, its shield shimmering to life in a protective barrier. Blood dripped from my hands, pooling at my feet as I turned to face it. My body trembled, the strain of regeneration clawing at my reserves, but I couldn¡¯t stop. The hunger wouldn¡¯t let me. Lion¡¯s voice crackled through the remaining drone, his tone sharp and commanding. ¡°Enough! You¡¯re destroying yourself! This is madness, Highness!¡± I grabbed a nearby stool and hurled it at the shielded drone with all my strength. The stool disintegrated on impact, the barrier absorbing the force without so much as a flicker. My mismatched eyes locked onto the floating machine, and I grabbed a metal table next, dragging it across the room with a screech of steel. The whispers surged, their voices overlapping in a chaotic chorus. Destroy it. Prove your strength. Show them why you¡¯re the Phoenix. ¡°Shut up!¡± I screamed, my voice raw as I swung the table at the drone. The shield flared, sending a burst of heat and energy rippling through the room. The force sent me staggering back, the table clattering to the floor. Lion¡¯s voice softened, almost mournful. ¡°Your father wouldn¡¯t want this, Sol. You¡¯re his legacy. Please, stop.¡± I stumbled, my body trembling with exhaustion as my ruined arm struggled to heal. Blood smeared the floor beneath me, but the whispers didn¡¯t quiet. They screamed louder, insistent, as the faint flicker of yellow eyes caught my attention from the shadows. I froze, my breath hitching as the growl echoed through the room¡ªlow, guttural, and too deep to be human. Slowly, I turned toward the corner, where those yellow eyes burned through the darkness, watching me. They burned like embers, unblinking, piercing me. The shadows shifted slightly, revealing a hunched, grotesque shape just beyond the reach of the light. My chest tightened as every instinct screamed at me to run, but I couldn¡¯t look away. The whispers surged in my mind, louder now, their tones blending into something guttural and fragmented. Finish it, they hissed. Phoenix must rise. For him. For you. Finish what he started. The yellow eyes bore into me, glowing with an intensity that felt alive¡ªtoo alive. The creature¡¯s presence was suffocating, a tangible weight pressing against my chest. The whispers shifted, their chaotic murmur blending into a rhythmic, almost melodic cadence, taunting me with every beat. Lion¡¯s drone hovered closer, its lens flickering with recognition. ¡°Oh Majesty,¡± Lion¡¯s voice echoed softly through the small chamber, calm and reverent, as though addressing a deity. ¡°To see you again¡­¡± The words barely registered before the monster lashed out. Its claws shot forward, impossibly fast, piercing the shield of the drone as though it were paper. Sparks exploded, the protective field shattering with a hollow crackle. The drone¡¯s frame crumpled under the force, wires and circuits exposed, its flickering lens going dark as it tumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap. The creature didn¡¯t look at its handiwork. Instead, its yellow eyes turned back to me, locking onto mine with unrelenting intensity. The weight of its gaze pressed against me like a vice, suffocating, inescapable. My breath hitched as it tilted its head, those glowing orbs searing into my soul as if daring me to move, to run, to resist. He¡¯s watching. He knows. Finish it, Sol. Be the key. Be his masterpiece. ¡°No,¡± I whispered, shaking my head. My voice trembled, betraying the fear I tried to suppress. ¡°You¡¯re not real. You¡¯re just the virus. A hallucination.¡± But the whispers didn¡¯t stop. They grew sharper, more insistent, until they were all I could hear. Not a dream. Not a nightmare. He sees you. He needs you.... I need you. I gritted my teeth, fighting against the rising panic. ¡°Shut up,¡± I muttered, the words half to myself. ¡°Just shut the hell up!¡± The growl came again, deeper this time, vibrating through the floor. My breath caught as the shadows shifted once more, the thing stepping closer. Its shape was monstrous¡ªhunched and grotesque¡ªbut its movements were disturbingly deliberate. It tilted its head, its gaze locked onto mine with an eerie familiarity. Then, the whispers converged into a single, broken voice¡ªhalting and distorted, but undeniably my familiar. ¡°Finish¡­ Phoenix, my dear,¡± it rasped, the words dragging across the air like nails on glass. ¡°I¡­ need it. To complete¡­ my transcendence. For humanity.¡± My heart stopped. My legs felt like lead, the room spinning as the voice echoed in my head. ¡°You can¡¯t be fucking real,¡± I whispered, trembling under the weight of disbelief. The creature didn¡¯t move closer, but its yellow eyes burned brighter, daring me to look away. The voice came again, softer yet fractured, pieced together from something broken beyond repair. ¡°Humanity¡­ needs me. Needs¡­ us. You¡­ are my hope.¡± ¡°Bullshit,¡± I hissed, my voice cracking. The sound of boots echoed faintly in the corridor. Time was slipping away. I turned to the vault, the keypad¡¯s glow steady in the dim light. My fingers trembled as I keyed in the code. The lock clicked, and the heavy door swung open, revealing the book. Its black leather cover was worn, cracked at the edges. I cradled it to my chest, flipping through familiar shorthand¡ªprecise and calculated. But as I reached the latter entries, the writing shifted: jagged, smeared, almost feral. The dates leapt out at me¡ªimpossibly recent. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding,¡± I whispered, my stomach twisting. ¡°This can¡¯t be right¡­¡± A low growl sliced through the air, freezing the breath in my lungs. Slowly, I raised my head. From the shadows, two piercing yellow eyes stared back at me. He is real, the whispers hissed, wrapping around my thoughts. I am real. But the eyes didn¡¯t waver. The creature stepped into the faint light¡ªmassive, hunched, its grotesque form a mockery of humanity. My chest tightened as I stumbled back, clutching the book like a shield. ¡°What¡­ the fuck are you?¡± My voice wavered. It exhaled, its breaths wet and rasping. Then, in a voice fractured beyond recognition, it growled, ¡°Finish¡­ it. My¡­ dear.¡± My stomach churned. The tone was warped, but I knew it. ¡°My father would never be a monster like you,¡± I spat, desperation sharpening my words. Deep down, though, I couldn¡¯t deny the truth. That voice¡ªit was him. Finish Phoenix, the whispers urged. You see it now. You see what he became. The creature took a step closer, its claws glinting in the faint light. ¡°Complete¡­ Phoenix,¡± it rasped. ¡°For¡­ humanity. For¡­ me.¡± Tears blurred my vision. ¡°Father?¡± My voice cracked, the word barely escaping my lips. ¡°They told me you were dead.¡± Its head tilted¡ªa disturbingly human gesture. ¡°Not dead,¡± it rasped. ¡°Here. With¡­ you.¡± ¡°Fuck,¡± I choked out, shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯re not him. You¡¯re a monster. A mistake.¡± The creature let out a mournful sound, its yellow eyes flickering with something I couldn¡¯t name. ¡°We¡­ tried,¡± it rasped. ¡°We¡­ failed. Chimera¡­ incomplete.¡± The whispers hissed triumphantly. Chimera. Look in the book. Find the proof. Boots thundered even closer now down the corridor. The creature¡¯s head snapped toward the sound. With a snarl, it launched itself upward, disappearing into the ductwork with a metallic clang. The door burst open, Holt charging in with two guards. Their eyes swept the room¡ªshattered panels, shadows, disarray¡ªbut they didn¡¯t see the vent, didn¡¯t sense what had been here. ¡°Sol!¡± Holt¡¯s sharp voice cut through the chaos¡ªthe first time I¡¯d heard it since he left med bay. His gaze locked on me, blood-smeared and clutching the book. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me,¡± I said, backing away. Holt¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Fine, Hand over the book. Now.¡± ¡°No.¡± I hugged the book tighter, edging toward the bathroom. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. He¡¯s alive. He¡¯s¡ª¡± My voice broke. ¡°He¡¯s in the vents.¡± ¡°Enough,¡± one of the guards from team B growled, raising his weapon. ¡°Drop it.¡± I bolted, sealing the captain''s room''s private bathroom door behind me. My breath came in shallow, panicked gasps as I slid to the floor, gripping the book like a lifeline. The sterile, pristine tiles under me felt cold against my skin, a sharp contrast to the fiery chaos raging in my mind. My hand lashed out without thinking, smashing the control panel beside the door. Sparks flew as the screen shattered under the force, the soft hum of the locking mechanism turning into a harsh, final click. The door was sealed, the flickering lights of the broken panel a testament to my desperation. I sat there for a moment, trembling, my fingers tracing the worn leather cover of the book. Every breath felt like a fight, the weight of what I¡¯d just uncovered crushing down on me. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the damaged controls and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages, my breath shallow and uneven. The first entries were familiar¡ªprojects I¡¯d heard whispered about in shadowed corners of his lab: Leviathan. Hydra. Wyvern. Each name carried weight, monstrous successes or catastrophic failures my father had buried beneath layers of secrecy. But as I turned the pages, the handwriting changed. The meticulous script I knew so well unraveled into something frenzied, chaotic. Words bled into the margins, ink smeared and jagged, as if written by a hand that shook with desperation. At the center of the chaos, one word burned itself into my mind, scrawled in bold, jagged strokes: Chimera. My heart lurched. Beneath it, a phrase etched in uneven lettering gripped me like a vice: Neural Fusion. Total Integration. Incomplete Transformation. The truth hit me with the weight of a collapsing star. My father hadn¡¯t just died. He hadn¡¯t simply been the victim of a lab accident or some tragic mishap. That was the lie¡ªone crafted with precision, bolstered by Dr. Knight and carried out with Lion¡¯s silent complicity. He¡¯d tried to merge with Jericho, to become something greater than human. To transcend the fragile limitations of flesh and forge a bridge between the organic and the digital. Phoenix was supposed to ensure the process, stabilizing his body and mind, regenerating his cells fast enough to endure the strain of neural fusion. But it hadn¡¯t worked. The virus¡ªhis virus¡ªhad failed him. Unlike me, his body hadn¡¯t adapted to Phoenix¡¯s potential. Instead of empowering him, it had turned on him, twisting his form and scattering his mind. Part of him¡ªfractured, incomplete¡ªhad uploaded into Jericho¡¯s systems, a hidden echo lurking in the deep code. Another part¡ªthe grotesque remnants of his body¡ªstalked the ship¡¯s shadows, bound by hunger and rage, a living nightmare. He wasn¡¯t gone. He was here. Knight had helped him fake his death. The carefully orchestrated story of a cryo pod failure was just another piece of the puzzle¡ªa ruse to hide the truth of his failed experiment. Lion must have known, his unwavering loyalty binding him to the secret, carrying out orders from a man who no longer existed in any recognizable form. I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling the wave of nausea and grief that rose in my throat. The book slipped from my lap, its pages fanning open on the cold tiles, revealing more jagged notes. My eyes caught on a single passage, the words smeared as if scrawled in a frenzy: Phoenix is incomplete. Neural integrity unstable. Survival requires stabilization. Perfect host: Sol. A chill coursed through me. He hadn¡¯t just been experimenting on himself¡ªhe¡¯d been experimenting for me. For the virus to stabilize, for the process to succeed, it needed the genetic adaptation Phoenix had given me. I was the key. ¡°Damn you,¡± I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. ¡°You lied to everyone. You used us. You used me.¡± The whispers surged, dark and insidious, coiling in my mind. Finish it. You¡¯re so close. It¡¯s what he wanted. It¡¯s what you¡¯re meant for. I shook my head, but the pieces were clicking into place, each revelation heavier than the last. Knight had hidden the truth, enabling him to continue his work in secret. Lion had enforced his will, guarding his monstrous legacy even as it consumed the ship. And now, my father¡ªwhat was left of him¡ªwaited, trapped in limbo, needing Phoenix complete to finish what he¡¯d started. I clenched the book so tightly that my knuckles turned white, the words swimming on the page. He hadn¡¯t just died. He¡¯d tried to rewrite the laws of life and death¡ªand failed. But I was still here. And that made me the final piece of his unfinished puzzle. A deafening crash jolted me from my spiraling thoughts. The main door outside buckled under the weight of impact. Holt¡¯s voice thundered through, raw and desperate. ¡°Sol, open up! Now!¡± I clutched the book tighter, its leather cover cutting into my hands. The whispers surged, their triumphant chorus growing louder: Finish Phoenix. For him. For humanity. The door groaned and splintered, giving way with a metallic shriek. Lion¡¯s massive figure stepped through the wreckage, his golden armor gleaming like a monolith against the chaos. He filled the space with an oppressive presence, every movement deliberate, every sound calculated. ¡°Leave us,¡± Lion commanded, his deep voice resonating like a judgment passed. The guards who had followed Holt hesitated, their weapons raised, but the sheer authority in Lion¡¯s tone brooked no argument. One by one, they retreated, Holt lingering the longest, the door hissing shut behind them. Silence followed, heavy and suffocating. Lion turned to face me, his visor gleaming like molten gold, a silent reminder of who¡ªor what¡ªcontrolled this moment. ¡°You¡¯ve found the truth, Highness,¡± he said, his tone maddeningly calm. I glared up at him, anger and despair churning in my chest. ¡°You knew,¡± I spat, my voice trembling with fury. ¡°You helped him. Why?¡± Lion tilted his helmeted head, a faint hum accompanying the motion. ¡°Your father¡¯s vision is the future,¡± he said simply. ¡°And you are its key.¡± ¡°No!¡± My voice cracked, the word escaping like a knife drawn across my throat. ¡°He¡¯s gone! He¡¯s not my father anymore¡ªhe¡¯s this!¡± My hand gestured wildly toward the vent, where the monster had disappeared. Lion didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°He is a Voss,¡± he said, his tone unshakable. ¡°And he is your father. His work must continue.¡± Tears blurred my vision, hot and bitter. ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of my desperation. ¡°He¡¯s using you. He¡¯s using me.¡± Lion stepped closer, his massive form casting a long shadow across the pristine floor. ¡°You have a duty, Highness. To him. To humanity. Finish Phoenix.¡± I scrambled back, clutching the book as if it could protect me from the inevitability of his words. ¡°You don¡¯t know what he¡¯ll become!¡± I shouted, my voice rising in a mixture of rage and terror. ¡°You don¡¯t know the monster he already is!¡± Lion paused, his voice softening to something almost reverent. ¡°He¡¯s waiting,¡± he said, quieter now. ¡°For you.¡± Before I could respond, his massive gauntlet closed around my arm. His strength was immovable, a force I couldn¡¯t hope to resist. I thrashed, my breath coming in panicked gasps, but it was like struggling against the tide. ¡°You¡¯ll understand when you wake,¡± Lion said, dragging me from the bathroom with an ease that mocked my resistance. ¡°No!¡± I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. ¡°You can¡¯t do this! You don¡¯t understand!¡± The cryo pod loomed ahead, its sterile light casting an eerie glow that made the polished surfaces of Lion¡¯s armor gleam even brighter. The pod hissed open, its cold interior a silent promise of confinement. With mechanical precision, Lion placed me inside, securing the straps that pinned me in place. The chill of the pod¡¯s systems seeped into my skin, an unrelenting freeze that stole my breath. ¡°Lion, please!¡± I begged, my voice cracking with desperation. ¡°You can¡¯t let this happen! You don¡¯t know what he¡¯ll become¡ªwhat he already is!¡± Lion stepped back, his massive frame filling my narrowing field of vision. His visor burned bright, unyielding. ¡°Your father¡¯s vision is the future, Highness,¡± he said, his tone solemn. ¡°And so are you.¡± Through the glass of the pod, I could only watch as the world began to blur. Lion stood as a silent sentinel, his golden form radiating power. And just beyond him, in the shadows, the faint glint of yellow eyes shimmered¡ªwatching. Waiting. The cold crept in, and the darkness followed. Chapter 15 : Bound by Blood The moment I woke, panic surged through me like wildfire. My lungs burned as I gasped for air, hands clawing at the restraints that bound me. The cryo chamber¡¯s hum droned faintly in the background, almost drowned out by the pounding in my ears. The straps across my arms and chest felt suffocating, as if they were trying to crush the fight out of me. Cold air prickled against my skin, and I became sharply aware of the robe I was still wearing¡ªthe one from my quarters. Its fabric clung to me, stiff and stained with dried blood from smashing the drones. The memory hit like a cold wind, sharp and visceral, stirring a gnawing hunger deep inside me. I twisted against the restraints, the cold press of the cryo pod grounding me in the harsh reality of where I was¡ªof what I¡¯d endured. My heart raced, my thoughts a disjointed tangle. How long had I been under? The last time, it was fifty years. I¡¯d been trapped, screaming in my dreams, unsure if they would ever wake me. But this time... had it been minutes? Days? Years? The disorientation was worse now. I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d even dreamed at all. It felt too immediate, as though I¡¯d simply blinked and was here again, frozen in that last, desperate moment. My body was slick with sweat, my muscles trembling as I tugged harder against the restraints. Then I froze. Movement. It wasn¡¯t me. My breath hitched as my head snapped to the side, my vision still adjusting to the dim glow of the chamber. Two figures stood at the far end of the room, their outlines sharp against the faint light. Lion. Knight. The sight of them sent a jolt through my chest, my panic giving way to something colder¡ªwariness. I stopped struggling, forcing myself to breathe, to steady the pounding in my head. My hands relaxed against the restraints as my eyes locked on Lion¡¯s towering frame. He loomed near the central console, his hammer resting against the wall like a silent sentinel. Without his helmet, his face was a stark contrast¡ªgolden eye glowing faintly, the other cybernetic, both cold and unblinking. His expression was calm but his gaze as hard as steel. Knight stood a few steps behind him, arms crossed over her pristine lab coat. Her silver eyes flicked between Lion and me, assessing. The corners of her mouth twitched, but it wasn¡¯t a smile¡ªit was something colder, sharper. The whispers stirred, slithering through my mind like tendrils of smoke. Ah, my left and right hand¡­ Lion, ever the leader, the general, and most of all, the killer. And Knight¡ªmy ruthless assistant, brilliant¡­ and your mother. My breath caught, the words wrapping around me like a noose, tightening with every syllable. A commotion outside drowned out the chamber¡¯s low hum. Muffled shouts rose in volume, sharp with tension: ¡°I¡¯m not asking!¡± Warren¡¯s voice cut through the din, brimming with authority and barely restrained anger. ¡°Move aside, Eagle! Sol is part of my team, and I won¡¯t stand by while¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªwhile what, Captain?¡± came a calmer reply. Eagle. Her tone was iron under velvet, unyielding in a way that made even Warren¡¯s bark falter. ¡°You¡¯ve overstepped. Stand down. This matter doesn¡¯t concern you.¡± ¡°It damn well does!¡± Warren¡¯s frustration spiked. ¡°She¡¯s on my team and under my protection¡ªthis is a breach of¡ª¡± Eagle¡¯s response sliced through his tirade like a blade: ¡°No one passes. By my authority as Royal Guard, this area is sealed. Return to your post.¡± The commotion outside faded into the background as Lion stepped closer, his towering form casting a long shadow across the pod. His golden eye gleamed faintly in the dim chamber light. ¡°Ignore them,¡± he said quietly, his voice measured, commanding. ¡°This moment isn¡¯t for them. It¡¯s for us.¡± ¡°What the hell is this, Lion?¡± I hissed, my voice trembling with anger and confusion. ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± Lion¡¯s golden eye fixed on mine, his expression unreadable. ¡°We need to talk, Highness¡± he said, his tone calm but weighted with purpose. ¡°About the secrets you¡¯ve uncovered. About what you¡¯ve seen¡ªand what it all means.¡± ¡°Just how many secrets are you keeping from me?¡± I snapped, my voice rising. ¡°From the crew? How much do you think you can bury?¡± Lion said nothing, his jaw tightening briefly before he stepped back, letting the silence stretch between us. Knight moved forward, her silver eyes locking onto mine with a cold, calculating intensity. Her pristine lab coat stood in stark contrast to the bloodied robe clinging to my skin. ¡°Far more than you¡¯ll learn here,¡± she said, her voice sharp and cutting. ¡°But the truth is this: the captains think their clearances give them power,¡± she continued, her tone dripping with disdain, ¡°but this isn¡¯t their ship.¡± She gestured around the room, her voice softening into something almost reverent. ¡°It¡¯s Julian¡¯s. Always was. They¡¯re temporary stewards of something far greater.¡± My throat tightened as I forced the words out. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Knight tilted her head, studying me like a specimen under glass. ¡°Your father¡¯s mind¡ªwhat¡¯s left of it¡ªis split between that monster you saw and Jericho¡¯s AI. When he tried to merge his consciousness with this ship¡ªChimera, we call it¡ªhe failed. He fractured. Now we need you to bring him back together. It¡¯s the only way to make him whole.¡± I barely recognized the sound of my own voice when it came, small and fractured, as if speaking the words would make them true. ¡°So¡­ that thing¡ªit¡¯s part of him? What¡¯s left of him?¡± My voice wavered, caught between disbelief and despair, each word splintering under the weight of the truth. ¡°How can that be him?¡± ¡°He is fragmented,¡± Lion said, his voice almost pitying. ¡°Yet, He¡¯s still there, Sol, but the fractures are destroying him. And when he goes, Jericho goes too.¡± Knight¡¯s hand ran through her perfect hair, smoothing the black waves with deliberate ease. Her almond-shaped eyes, a sharp mirror to mine in shape but not in spirit, locked on me with cold disdain¡ªcalculated and cutting. Not my mother. Just my incubator, I thought. ¡°And when Jericho collapses, everyone aboard dies with it. The captains pretend they¡¯re in control, but they don¡¯t see the truth. They think your father is dead¡ªthat his mind died with him.¡± Her lips curled into a sharp, knowing smirk. ¡°That¡¯s the story we let them believe.¡± Her tone darkened, a venomous edge creeping in. ¡°They¡¯ve never trusted me. The moment your father was gone, they demoted me¡ªreplaced me with that fool Garin. They needed someone they could control, someone too shortsighted to question their authority.¡± She stepped closer, her silver eyes narrowing. ¡°When your father ¡®died,¡¯ the captains intervened, splitting his clearance among themselves to take control. It was a failsafe to keep the ship¡ªand you¡ªunder their command.¡± Her tone turned colder. ¡°But Jericho, the part of him tied to this ship, still follows his fragmented protocols. The rest of him¡ªthe monster¡ªis trapped, driven to madness by Phoenix. The captains pretend they¡¯re in charge, but this ship was never meant to be theirs. It was always yours.¡± I shook my head, struggling to keep up. ¡°Then what was the plan?¡± Knight¡¯s smirk sharpened, her words cutting like glass. ¡°Your father¡¯s plan was to become Jericho¡ªfully, completely. He believed he could guide humanity from this ship, just as he did on Earth before the world wars. Chimera was meant to complete that vision, to merge his mind with the ship and make him eternal.¡± Her silver eyes gleamed, a cold light of conviction. ¡°But something went wrong. As Phoenix worked to heal his mind, the transfer tore it apart. The strain fractured him into pieces.¡± Her voice softened, almost conspiratorial. ¡°You, Sol, are the difference. Phoenix worked on you. It was tailored to your DNA. His attempt failed because it was rushed, but you¡¯re proof it can succeed.¡± I fought to keep my voice steady. ¡°If Phoenix worked on me, why couldn¡¯t it save him?¡± Knight¡¯s smirk remained, as cold and cutting as her words. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say¡ªat least, not until we¡¯ve tested you further. But the truth is, the captains would never have allowed it if they¡¯d known our goal. They lack the vision for something so monumental. So, when Chimera failed, we let them believe he died in cryo. It was the simplest way to keep the dream alive.¡± Her voice dipped, almost reverent. ¡°They think his brilliance is gone, but he¡¯s still here, Sol¡ªfractured, yes, but alive.¡± Her voice turned cold. ¡°To maintain control, they split authority among themselves¡ªa failsafe they call democracy. It¡¯s a lie. They¡¯ve been stumbling ever since, blind to what this ship truly is. Bring him back, and Jericho returns to him. Only you can make that happen.¡± Lion¡¯s golden eye fixed on me. ¡°Without your father, Jericho is vulnerable. The captains can manage the day-to-day, but they can¡¯t wield this ship¡¯s true capabilities. One real crisis, and their divided leadership will doom us. Only your father, restored, can keep us alive. Only you can fix Chimera.¡± My fists clenched against the restraints. Fear coiled tight in my chest, but I refused to show it. ¡°What about the captains? Do they know what you¡¯re doing?¡± The whispers stirred, cutting through my question with a cold chuckle. No, she¡¯s too smart for that, my little Phoenix. Knight scoffed, her tone sharp. ¡°They suspect something. Why do you think they¡¯ve kept such a tight leash on me since your father¡¯s death? But they think he¡¯s gone. Sabotaging Lab 3 forced their hand. When Warren found the Hemlock¡¯s wreckage, their illusions started to crack. I knew they¡¯d have to wake you.¡± Her admission hit like a punch. ¡°You sabotaged the lab?¡± My voice wavered, disbelief and anger colliding. Knight didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°To save this ship, yes. Desperation always reveals the truth.¡± Lion¡¯s calm, unyielding tone cut through the tension. ¡°You¡¯re the key, Sol. Your father ensured Phoenix would bind to you. It was designed for your DNA. He locked the Royal Guard and parts of Jericho to your genetic code, ensuring no one else could unlock the ship¡¯s full potential. Everything he built¡ªeverything he sacrificed¡ªdepends on you.¡± He paused, his golden eye gleaming with a weight that made my chest tighten. ¡°The full potential of Jericho isn¡¯t just about survival¡ªit¡¯s our only hope if we face the same xeno scum that attacked the Hemlock. Your father believed humanity wasn¡¯t meant to share the stars. We were born to inherit them, to claim them as our own. And for that, we need Jericho¡¯s power, with him guiding us as he always intended, Highness.¡± ¡°Will you stop calling me that? My father and I were not royalty! And what if I refuse, huh?¡± The words escaped before I could stop them, my voice trembling with anger and fear. Knight¡¯s smirk widened, her silver eyes glinting with something cruel. ¡°Then Reid dies.¡± The world tilted as I gasped. ¡°What?¡± My teeth sliced into my lips, the sharp tang of blood flooding my mouth, stoking the ever-growing hunger clawing at the edges of my control. Lion stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. ¡°He¡¯s a liability¡ªthe weak link. You care about him. If you break silence or let the captains step in, we remove the threat. I¡¯ll do it myself, with my bare hands.¡± I stared at him, the truth in his words cutting deeper than anything else. He wasn¡¯t bluffing. I could see it in the unflinching resolve in his golden eye, the menace in his jaw. The thought of losing Reid made my chest tighten. It shouldn¡¯t have been different from the others¡¯ deaths¡ªbut it was. His reckless humor, his rare ability to make me feel human, had carved out a space in the chaos I didn¡¯t want to lose. The ache twisted sharper, harder to ignore.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. My fists clenched against the restraints as I forced myself to breathe, to stay silent¡ªfor now. The hunger roared within me, demanding release, but the memory of Lion battling both the monster on the Hemlock and Wilks flashed through my mind. He wasn¡¯t just one of my father¡¯s creations¡ªhe was the pinnacle of them, the apex of humanity¡¯s combat prowess. It was undeniable. I could never beat him in a fair fight. He had single-handedly killed millions on Earth during his decades of service, a living weapon of unmatched efficiency. He was old¡ªvery old¡ªbut his age only seemed to have honed him further, sharpening every skill to a deadly edge. Knight leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°Your father ensured everything would lead back to you. The accelerant and inhibitor¡ªextremes of Phoenix¡¯s design¡ªare waiting. Only you can finish what he started. Decide quickly, Sol. The countdown has already begun.¡± My breath came shallow, my mind a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts. The fractured mind split between Jericho and that¡­ monster¡ªwas it really him? The father I thought was gone? Or was this just another cruel trick, a shadow of the man who¡¯d once told me I was humanity¡¯s hope? Fuck, Dad. Now that you¡¯re here¡ªnow that I know you¡¯re not gone¡ªI don¡¯t know how I could possibly face you after everything you¡¯ve done. After everything you¡¯ve become. But I miss you so much. I clenched my fists, forcing the words out before my resolve could break. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend like I have a choice.¡± Lion nodded, a faint glimmer of relief breaking through his stoic mask. Knight straightened, her smirk returning. ¡°This is your legacy, Sol. Whether you like it or not.¡± Lion gave a brief nod, adding in his calm, measured way, ¡°They fear losing what little power they have¡ªmankind¡¯s last scraps of authority. But that power was never meant to be shared. Jericho is a Voss creation, and only a Voss can unify it. Once your father¡¯s consciousness finishes merging with the ship¡ªwhen he completes his evolution into Jericho¡¯s central mind¡ªonly you will stand beside him. Eternal guardians of humanity¡¯s fate.¡± The whispers coiled like smoke in my mind, their tone dripping with honeyed persuasion. Only you can complete me, my princess. End the captains¡¯ tyrannical reign. The words slithered deeper, planting a dangerous question: What if he¡¯s still in there? What if there¡¯s something left to save? My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms as I shoved the thought away. No. That thing isn¡¯t my dad. He would never have wanted this. The denial burned in my chest, warring with the ache that wouldn¡¯t subside. The hammer by Lion¡¯s side radiated a quiet menace, as though ready to strike down anyone who dared oppose them. The voices outside grew louder, clashing like thunder in the corridor: Warren¡¯s indignant fury, Vega¡¯s cold, clipped tones, and Eagle¡¯s unwavering declarations that no one would pass. Then, cutting through the chaos, came another voice¡ªlouder, raw, and unmistakable. Reid. For the first time, a flicker of hope stirred in my chest. Knight¡¯s almond-shaped eyes flicked to the sealed doors, then back to me, sharp and calculating. ¡°Phoenix wasn¡¯t just a virus¡ªit was the cornerstone of everything. The accelerant and the inhibitor are crucial¡ªextremes of its design. But we can¡¯t properly test them without you. And we won¡¯t risk interference from the captains. They¡¯ve proven themselves short-sighted and hungry for control.¡± Her tone hardened as she added, ¡°We¡¯ll keep the peace with them as long as it suits our purpose, but if they threaten to destroy what we¡¯ve built¡­¡± She let the words hang in the air, her meaning unmistakable. Lion¡¯s golden eye fixed on me, his cybernetic features catching the faint glow of the chamber lights. ¡°We¡¯d prefer not to kill them, Highness. We need their expertise to keep Jericho running. But if their ignorance endangers the completion of Chimera¡ªendangers your father¡¯s final return¡ªthen yes, we¡¯ll use force. Jericho won¡¯t be lost on our watch.¡± I tugged at the straps pinning me to the cryo pod, anger and helplessness swelling in my throat. ¡°So it comes down to this,¡± I said, my voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. ¡°Help you finish Chimera¡ªrestore a father who¡¯s barely human anymore¡ªor watch you tear this ship apart, along with everyone on it?¡± Knight¡¯s smile was faint, cruel. ¡°It was always going to come down to this. The captains were placeholders, nothing more. Their authority is a fa?ade. Your father¡¯s legacy is yours, whether you want it or not.¡± Lion glanced at the door, where Warren¡¯s shouting reached a fever pitch, then back at me. His tone was edged with finality. ¡°Jericho must stay intact. If the captains leave us alone, we¡¯ll leave them alone. But if they interfere, we won¡¯t hesitate to act. The stakes are too high, Highness.¡± Knight stepped closer, her silver eyes piercing mine with an unsettling intensity. ¡°You were created for this, Sol. Phoenix was designed to bind only to you¡ªtailored perfectly to your DNA. Your father ensured you¡¯d be the key to completing Chimera. Everything he built, everything he sacrificed, was leading to this moment.¡± Her voice dropped, cold and precise. ¡°With your regenerative ability and the accelerant serum, his mind will finally survive the transfer. You are the missing piece.¡± She reached out, flicking a stray lock of hair from my forehead with an unsettling familiarity, her lips curling into a sharp smirk. ¡°Decide quickly, Sol. Once we leave this room, the countdown begins. The day will come when he needs you to make the final choice. Until then, keep quiet. We need the peace with the captains intact¡ªfor now.¡± Her touch sent a shiver through me, and I strained against the restraints, every nerve in my body screaming to resist. The hunger roared to life, no longer a quiet ache but a primal force clawing its way to the surface. As she leaned closer, I could smell her flesh, warm and alive, her heartbeat a deafening rhythm pounding in my ears. My fangs, already sharp, extended further, saber-like and aching with an unbearable tension. My claws dug into the metal of the cryo pod, carving deep gouges as my hands flexed involuntarily. The restraints groaned under the pressure, buckling slightly as I pulled against them, the strength surging through me terrifying and intoxicating. A low growl escaped my throat, and just as I thought I might lose control entirely, his voice¡ªmy father¡¯s voice¡ªcut through the chaos, sharper than any blade. My student, the voices whispered, low and mocking, yet intimate, as though it was speaking directly into my soul. Your mother, always the ever-loyal whore, serving me even as she knew the monster I was. And Lion¡­ my perfect iron fist. Don¡¯t let his words fool you. He¡¯s loved the taste of violence since he was just a boy. The words struck like poison, spreading through me, fueling both the hunger and a desperate kind of despair. My trembling turned to outright shaking, the primal urge to rip Knight apart clashing with the loathing that boiled in my blood. My hands flexed again, claws scraping against the metal as the restraints groaned louder, buckling further under the pressure. ¡°Sol,¡± the voice purred, softer now, almost soothing. This is what I made you for. You¡¯re so close. Don¡¯t fight it. Let it happen. ¡°Shut up!¡± I snarled, my voice breaking, raw and hoarse. Knight didn¡¯t flinch, didn¡¯t even seem to notice my outburst. Then, without warning, she injected me with something cold and sharp. The icy sensation spread through my veins like liquid steel, freezing the inferno of hunger in its tracks. The transformation reversed almost instantly¡ªfangs receding, claws shrinking, my strength draining away as the inhibitor took hold. My muscles went slack, the unrelenting hunger dulled to a faint whisper, a shadow of its former self. Knight¡¯s smirk widened as she watched the change. ¡°There,¡± she said, her voice smooth and triumphant. ¡°Much better.¡± She leaned in, her silver eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. ¡°Remember this moment, Sol. The hunger is part of you now. It will never truly leave. But don¡¯t worry,¡± her tone dripped with mockery, ¡°I¡¯ll be here to remind you of your place when it rears its head again.¡± The whispers faded, but their venom lingered, twisting in my mind like a knife. My student. Your mother. Lion. Each word carried the weight of my father¡¯s shadow, inescapable and all-consuming. My chest heaved, the ache of exhaustion and despair suffocating. And beneath it all, one thought burned, fragile but defiant: Goddamn it, Dad. What have you turned me into? I gasped, my body sagging against the restraints as they stopped groaning under my pull. My stomach churned, bile rising as the reality of it all slammed into me: I was at the center of a plan decades¡ªmaybe centuries¡ªin the making, a pawn in my father¡¯s obsession with transcending humanity. The last of the voices outside faded, replaced by a static-laden silence that pressed in like a suffocating weight. ¡°What the hell did you do to me?¡± I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible.
Knight leaned in, her smirk cutting sharp as glass. ¡°Taming the beast,¡± she said, her voice dripping with mockery. ¡°You¡¯ll thank me later, my dear daughter.¡± As I turned back to my semi-normal self, a chilling certainty settled over me: they¡¯d make me their lab rat no matter what. Unbidden memories of my father surged¡ªhis lab¡¯s sterile tang, the sting of needles, and that maddeningly gentle voice calling me ¡°humanity¡¯s hope.¡± Goddamn it, Daddy, why did you ever love this whore? Why did you come back? Bitterness tore through my thoughts, clashing with the ache in my chest. He was here, yet twisted into a nightmare haunting my every step. My hands strained weakly against the restraints, the relentless pressure in my chest driving home how far I¡¯d fallen. I miss you so much. Confusion and fury wrestled within me. The mind they wanted me to save¡ªtorn between Jericho and a monstrosity¡ªwas that truly my father, or a cruel reflection of who he¡¯d once been? If it is you, how do I even begin to forgive you? Knight leaned in, her voice ice-cold. ¡°If you betray us¡ªif you warn the captains¡ªReid is the first casualty. After that, we won¡¯t stop until Jericho is secured and Chimera is complete.¡± ¡°I will fucking gut you if you or him touch him or anyone else on this crew!¡± My threat lashed out, raw and trembling. Despite my bravado, the truth twisted in my chest like a knife: I couldn¡¯t really fight Lion. And maybe I didn¡¯t want to. I miss my daddy. The thought surfaced like a knife¡¯s edge¡ªraw and hollow. But he¡¯s a monster now. That¡¯s my dad¡ªa monster. His yellow, predatory eyes... Jericho¡¯s cold, unblinking gaze... Both were him, the father who once held my hand. My heart seized under the weight of it. How do I help him? How do I fight him when he is the ship? Lion lifted his hammer as if it weighed nothing. He turned, golden eye steady, unyielding. ¡°We¡¯re finished here,¡± he said, his tone frosty with finality. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more to discuss, Highness.¡± The doors hissed open with a sharp pneumatic rush. Warren¡¯s incensed face appeared just beyond, fury etched into every tense line of his posture. Eagle stood like a sentinel in his path, her imposing frame clad in sleek, thin power armor that accentuated her towering height. The polished black metal gleamed under the dim lights, her helmet obscuring any hint of expression behind its darkened visor. The glow of red optics flickered faintly as she tilted her head slightly, blocking Warren¡¯s approach without a word. Lion didn¡¯t spare Warren more than a glance, stepping calmly aside to reveal me, still strapped to the cryo pod and trembling. His golden eye glowed faintly as he gestured toward me, addressing Warren in a tone as measured as it was infuriating. ¡°Relax, Captain,¡± Lion said with unnerving calm. ¡°The inhibitor has been instilled. The side effects of Phoenix will slow now, allowing her condition to stabilize. Knight and her will continue refining the virus to ensure it becomes viable¡ªfor you and the other captains.¡± Warren¡¯s face twisted in fury, his glare cutting to Lion. ¡°Viable?¡± he snapped, his voice a thunderous bark. ¡°You¡¯re treating her like a damn experiment! She¡¯s not your lab rat!¡± Lion didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°She is key to everything,¡± he said simply, his words clinical and dismissive. Warren¡¯s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He turned his glare on Eagle, but her massive frame remained unmoving, a wall of power and authority in his path. He shoved past her without hesitation, his shoulder colliding with her armor as he stormed into the room. Knight¡¯s voice followed him, dripping with venom. ¡°This is your legacy, my daughter,¡± she sneered, directing her words at me with cruel satisfaction. ¡°Whether you like it or not. Deny it, and everything you care about¡ªyour precious Reid, this ship, your pitiful ideals¡ªwill burn. And I¡¯ll make sure you watch.¡± Lion and Knight turned toward the exit, their movements deliberate. Eagle followed without hesitation, her massive frame silent yet oppressive as she stepped in line behind them. Her helmeted head turned briefly toward Warren before she disappeared into the corridor. Warren skidded to a halt beside the cryo pod, his hands gripping my shoulders as his voice roared with concern. ¡°Sol! What the hell did they do to you?¡± His words were sharp, but his grip was steady, grounding me even as my mind swirled in chaos. I tried to respond, but my throat burned, and the weight of what had just transpired left me breathless. My body felt distant, heavy, as if I were still trapped beneath the restraints even as Warren worked to free me. The new serum coursed through my veins, dulling the voices that had clawed at my mind and quelling the insatiable hunger that had always lingered just beneath the surface. For the first time, the relentless gnawing quieted, leaving me weak and unsteady, a hollow echo where the chaos had been. Reid burst into the room moments later, his usual brashness replaced by a wide-eyed panic. His gaze swept over the bloodied robe, the restraints, and the claw marks etched into the metal of the pod. ¡°Sol!¡± he shouted, his voice cracking as he rushed forward. ¡°What the hell is this? What did they do to you?¡± I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. I couldn¡¯t look at Reid¡ªcouldn¡¯t answer as his panicked voice rose. The weight of what had just transpired crushed me, leaving me hollow and trembling. Movement drew my gaze past him, toward the edge of the room. One of Jericho¡¯s drones floated silently, its single eye glinting faintly in the dim light. Its reflective surface caught a fragmented image of me, warped and disjointed. My mismatched eyes stared back¡ªone vivid red, the other piercing blue. For a moment, the colors swirled together like oil on water, the sight sending a shiver through me. The hunger I thought the serum had quelled stirred faintly, clawing at the edges of my control. Then I saw it¡ªjust beyond my reflection. In the shadows near the vent, a pair of yellow eyes gleamed, bright and unblinking. My heart lurched as the Yellow-Eyed Monster stared, its predatory gaze framed by the slats like a grotesque portrait. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was real or another cruel trick of my fractured mind. The whispers returned, insidious and soft. You¡¯re so close, my little phoenix. Closer than ever. My breath hitched as the drone drifted closer, its glossy surface reflecting more than just my twisted image. For a fleeting moment, I saw his eyes staring back¡ªmy father¡¯s. Red and blue, familiar yet alien, like the ghost of someone I once knew but no longer recognized. My chest tightened, the echoes of Knight¡¯s and my father¡¯s voices weaving together, cruel and suffocating. This is your legacy, my daughter. Deny it, and everything you care about¡ªyour precious Reid, this ship, your pitiful ideals¡ªwill burn. And I¡¯ll make sure you watch. ¡°Sol!¡± Reid¡¯s voice shattered the haze. His trembling hands hovered over me, his panic raw and palpable. ¡°Look at me! What¡¯s wrong?¡± I tore my gaze from the drone, from the vent, from the monster that haunted me. ¡°Nothing,¡± I rasped, though the word felt hollow. Warren¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. ¡°What did they tell you?¡± he demanded, his concern sharp and pressing. The drone¡¯s eye lingered on me before drifting away¡ªJericho¡¯s silent warning that I couldn¡¯t speak. The monster¡¯s gaze burned from the shadows, unrelenting. My father¡¯s chains held me, the simmering hunger beneath my skin a constant reminder. ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice,¡± I whispered, the words trembling as I met Reid¡¯s worried eyes. ¡°My legacy is already written¡­ inked in blood.¡± And all I can do now is survive long enough to rewrite it. Chapter 16 : Faint Embers The room was quiet, unnervingly so, the hum of machinery fading into the sterile stillness of the Med bay. For the first time in what felt like months, my mind was mine. No whispers. No haunting echoes of my father¡¯s voice weaving through my thoughts. The silence should have been comforting. It wasn¡¯t. I sat on the exam table, the paper sheet crinkling under me as I shifted uncomfortably. My legs dangled over the edge, too short to touch the floor. The dim red glow in my left eye had dulled to a faint ember, barely noticeable in the reflective surface of the cabinets nearby. Even the hunger, my constant companion, was quieter now¡ªmuted to a whisper, no longer a gnawing, all-consuming force. The gown they¡¯d given me was all too familiar, the kind I wore more often than real clothes back in my father¡¯s lab. Tests never stopped. Scans, needles, more scans¡ªit was endless. Even now, it felt like I was right back there. At least they let me keep my underwear this time¡ªsmall mercies. Tugging at the hem, I thought, Better than mooning the Med bay, I guess. I felt unnatural. After having Phoenix in my blood for so long, its absence¡ªor its quiet¡ªfelt foreign. The whispers were gone, and the hunger that had once clawed at my insides was muted, almost nonexistent. Even my teeth had returned to normal, their sharpness no longer an unsettling reminder of what I was becoming. My body, though, was still a machine of demands¡ªa storm of ceaseless energy and consumption, always needing, always taking. To feel it pause, even for a moment, was unsettling, like standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to give way beneath me. I flexed my fingers, watching the faint blue veins beneath my skin shift. They seemed brighter, more fragile now, as though the virus was pulling them taut like strings, ready to snap. It¡¯s holding back, I thought, but for how long? The silence pressed in on me, thick and oppressive. I tried to focus on the room¡ªthe sterile white walls, the faintly antiseptic smell clinging to the air¡ªbut it offered no comfort. The monitor beside me beeped at steady intervals, my vitals laid bare in cold, clinical data. My heart rate, my temperature, my regenerative cell activity¡ªthey all said I was stable. Normal. But I wasn¡¯t. The faint sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. Dr. Yates stepped inside, the soft hiss of the door sealing behind her. Her presence was a small relief, breaking the suffocating stillness of the Med bay. She looked as tired as I felt, deep lines etched around her warm brown eyes, her black pressure suit visible beneath a slightly rumpled white lab coat. ¡°Morning, Sol,¡± she said, her voice low but soothing. ¡°How¡¯re you holding up?¡± I forced a smile, though it didn¡¯t quite reach my eyes. ¡°Define ¡®holding up.¡¯¡± She chuckled, pulling up a stool beside the console. ¡°Still breathing. That counts for something.¡± As she keyed in a few commands, the monitor shifted, showing a familiar array of scans. Cross-sections of my tissue, skeletal outlines, the faintly glowing strands of the virus snaking through my veins like molten threads. I had seen it all before, but it never stopped being unsettling. ¡°Anything feel different?¡± she asked, glancing at me.
¡°Yeah,¡± I said softly. ¡°It¡¯s quieter.¡± Yates paused, her fingers hovering over the console. ¡°Quieter?¡± I nodded, hesitating as the words formed in my mind. ¡°The hunger. The... noise in my¡ª¡± I stopped, clamping my mouth shut before the rest slipped out. Not that. Not to her. Yates was the one who handled my mental health evaluations¡ªthe one who¡¯d sat across from me in the aftermath of my last "snap", her tone calm but firm as she explained why breaking Ashly¡¯s arm had been a warning sign. If I mentioned the whispers, they¡¯d be all over my next assessment, and I couldn¡¯t risk that. I forced a quick pivot. ¡°My stomach. It¡¯s like everything just¡ªstopped. Or maybe it¡¯s back to normal. Honestly, I¡¯m not sure I even remember what normal feels like anymore¡­ not after being awake with it for nine months before I went rogue and Lion threw me in cryo.¡± Her expression tightened, though she tried to hide it. ¡°That¡¯s... interesting.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± I echoed bitterly. ¡°Not exactly the word I¡¯d use.¡± She sighed, leaning back on the stool. ¡°Your regenerative cycle has slowed. That might explain why everything feels... muted. Your body¡¯s conserving energy.¡± ¡°Conserving for what?¡± Yates didn¡¯t answer immediately. She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze drifting to the scans on the monitor. ¡°Your cells are still active, just not at the rate they were. It¡¯s not a bad thing, Sol. Stability is good.¡± ¡°Stability,¡± I muttered. The word felt hollow, meaningless. I flexed my hands, staring at the flawless skin¡ªmy body¡¯s supposed perfection. Phoenix wasn¡¯t gone, just... quieted. Suppressed, just as the inhibitors were meant to do. If only Knight hadn¡¯t ambushed me with it, I would have taken it willingly. Probably. Despite my small frame, I weighed three times what I should have. The virus had condensed the mass from all the cloned animals I¡¯d consumed into my bones and muscles. On the surface, I looked lean and short¡ªdelicate even¡ªbut the density was deceptive. My strength surpassed that of any grown man, and my bones were stronger than anyone who hadn¡¯t been augmented by cybernetics or genetic modification. My figure, with its exaggerated curves, was unnervingly perfect, like something sculpted rather than born. It felt alien, a strange shell I occupied but didn¡¯t recognize. It didn¡¯t feel like me. I shifted on the exam table, my body still sore from cryo, my mind still reeling from the questioning earlier. Warren, Garin, Reid, and Vega had spent hours grilling me after I was pulled out. Reid had my back, but Vega and Garin were relentless, their questions sharp and probing. It hadn¡¯t felt like a conversation¡ªit was an interrogation, their voices dripping with suspicion and judgment. Warren, though regretful, seemed just as out of the loop as I was, his authority undercut by Lion¡¯s machinations. They wanted answers¡ªanswers I couldn¡¯t fully give¡ªabout what had happened with the drones and why Lion had been forced to subdue me. Warren had reluctantly gone along with Lion¡¯s story at the time; the Council had left him with no real choice. Even Reid, loyal as he was, had been at a loss to explain why I¡¯d broken into my father¡¯s room and destroyed the drones. But I had given Garin and Vega even more fuel for their arguments that Knight¡¯s and my research were too dangerous. Garin had seized the opportunity to argue that all work on Lab 3 should be shut down immediately, while Vega insisted I should be confined to Lab 3, just as Wilks had been before his death. Their words hung in the air during every discussion, heavy with suspicion and judgment, as though they were daring me to prove them wrong. I¡¯d played along with Lion¡¯s bullshit narrative to protect them all, even though they could never know the truth¡ªthat I¡¯d done it to save their lives. The official story painted me as out of control, driven by the virus¡¯s rage and hunger. It claimed I had destroyed the drones in a fit of blind fury, leaving Lion no choice but to step in. He¡¯d told them he had locked me in cryo until Dr. Knight¡¯s inhibitor serum was ready to stabilize me and the virus. The timing of it all was too neat, too convenient. The serum had been miraculously perfected just hours after Team A¡¯s rotation began, marking one year since I had been pulled out of cryo for the first time and fifty-one years since Jericho launched. It tied everything up with a neat little bow. Lion emerged as the hero to most of the crew, particularly Teams B and C, who didn¡¯t know me well enough to question it. But Team A remained skeptical, their doubts hanging heavy in the air during the questioning. And I¡ªjust as Garin and Jimmy always said¡ªcame out looking like a ticking time bomb. The inhibitor had worked, at least for now. It dampened the virus enough to let me think clearly, to reclaim some sense of control. But the lie left a bitter taste in my mouth, even as I nodded and played along for the sake of peace. ¡°Do you think I¡¯ll go back to being the monster Garin thinks I am when the serum runs its course?¡± The words slipped out softer than I intended, like saying them too loud might make them real. Yates¡¯ expression tightened, a flicker of concern breaking through her professional calm. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster, Sol,¡± she said gently. ¡°Garin¡¯s fear says more about him than it does about you.¡± I wanted to believe her, but the memories of what I¡¯d done¡ªthe hunger, the rage, the blood¡ªwere too raw to ignore. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like fear when Vega¡¯s pushing to lock me in Lab 3,¡± I muttered. ¡°When half the crew seems ready to agree with her, it feels more like a verdict.¡± Yates sighed, her gaze steady but tired. ¡°Garin likes control, and Vega is cautious. The rest? They¡¯re just scared, Sol. You¡¯re something no one can pin down, and that terrifies them¡ªespecially when people like Lion walk around calling you ¡®Highness.¡¯¡± She paused, her tone softening. ¡°But as for what¡¯s happening to you... that¡¯s more of a question for Knight. Most of the changes Phoenix has made aren¡¯t something regular scans can even detect.¡± I glanced at my reflection in the polished cabinet, my red eye faintly glowing back at me. My pale hair spilled around a face I barely recognized. ¡°Sometimes it feels like I¡¯m turning into something else,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Something I don¡¯t even understand.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still you, Sol,¡± Yates said, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. ¡°Whatever¡¯s happening, that hasn¡¯t changed.¡± I nodded, but her words didn¡¯t quite land. My gaze drifted to the glowing threads on the monitor, weaving a tapestry of what I¡¯d become¡ªand what I might still be turning into. The door hissed open again, and for a moment, I thought it might be Warren or Vega returning with more questions. But no¡ªit was him, the one person who could always make me feel just a little less like a science experiment. ¡°Hey, Sleeping Beauty,¡± Reid called out, his voice cutting through the sterile quiet. ¡°You know, when I called you ¡®Princess,¡¯ I didn¡¯t really mean you should go back into cryo before me.¡± A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, surprising even myself. ¡°Well,¡± I said, trying to match his lighthearted tone, ¡°I was just trying to make a dramatic exit. What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes.¡± Reid grinned, stepping closer. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I like drama. So, Doc,¡± he said, gesturing at me with an exaggerated flourish, ¡°what did Knight whip up for her? Because I swear those aren¡¯t the same proportions she went into cryo with.¡± His grin widened, and he added with a wink, ¡°Not complaining¡ªjust, you know, asking for science.¡± I tugged at the hem of the thin medical gown, heat rising to my cheeks as I glanced down. ¡°Reid, here¡¯s a free tip: maybe don¡¯t flirt with someone wearing less fabric than a napkin.¡± He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. ¡°You¡¯re right. Flowers first. My mistake.¡± Yates sighed, giving him a pointed look. ¡°She gave Sol an inhibitor,¡± she said evenly, brushing off his antics. ¡°It¡¯s meant to suppress the virus and stabilize her condition.¡± I rolled my eyes, leaning back slightly as I tried to ignore the cool air brushing my legs. ¡°Reid, if you¡¯ve got any actual scientific questions, I¡¯m sure those two brain cells of yours can team up with your wandering eyes and figure it out.¡± He chuckled, placing his hands over his chest in mock offense. ¡°Ouch, Princess. You really know how to bruise your knight¡¯s ego.¡± ¡°Oh, please,¡± I shot back, my tone light as a faint grin tugged at my lips. ¡°You¡¯re closer to a court jester than a knight.¡± Reid turned to me again, his teasing smirk softening into something warmer, more sincere. ¡°Alright, enough jokes,¡± he said, his voice quieter now. ¡°How¡¯re you holding up, Princess? Back to your usual badass self?¡± I forced a smile, keeping my tone light despite the weight pressing down on me. ¡°Like I said at the interrogation,¡± I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, ¡°the inhibitor helps me control Phoenix. It¡¯s the first step to figuring out how the virus can bond to others without, you know, killing them.¡± I let my lips curl into a faint grin as I added, ¡°I¡¯d like to keep you around for a while, after all.¡± I winked at him, but the words felt heavier than I intended, the unease slipping into my voice despite my best efforts. Reid blinked, the teasing edge softening as his gaze lingered on me, searching for something unspoken, before smirking. ¡°Well, damn. If I¡¯d known you cared that much, I might¡¯ve tried harder to impress you.¡± I laughed, the sound hollow but convincing enough to fool him. What I didn¡¯t say¡ªwhat I couldn¡¯t say¡ªwas that Lion would kill Reid in an instant if he knew the truth. My father¡¯s shadow loomed over everything, always watching, always calculating.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As if to remind me, a Jericho drone drifted silently into the room, its single eye glowing faintly as it hovered near the ceiling. My stomach tightened, the air colder despite Reid¡¯s warm presence. In the background, Reid and Yates exchanged words¡ªsomething about the inhibitor, or maybe a joke. Their voices blurred, distant against the rising noise in my head. What if they knew? If Reid knew the truth, would he still look at me like that? Would Yates still defend me if she saw the full picture? ¡°You okay, Sol?¡± Reid asked, his tone softening as he caught the shift in my expression. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said quickly, pasting on a smile that I hoped was convincing. ¡°Just tired. It¡¯s been a long¡­ however long it¡¯s been.¡± He nodded, his grin returning. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m not letting you duck out on me again. No more dramatic cryo exits, you hear me? I¡¯d never forgive myself if I let you tell me to fuck off and steal my booze again. Look what happened last time¡ªyou got drunk and broke into your dad¡¯s room.¡± I managed a chuckle, though it felt more reflex than real. His attempt at levity helped, but the drone¡¯s presence still lingered in my peripheral vision, a weight I couldn¡¯t shake. Reid¡¯s grin softened, his usual bravado giving way to something quieter. ¡°Seriously, Sol. Don¡¯t scare me like that again.¡± ¡°Deal,¡± I murmured, the word carrying more layers than I meant it to. He hesitated for a moment longer, his emerald eyes searching mine behind his sunglasses, their reflection catching the faint glow of my mismatched red and blue eyes. As he lowered the shades slightly, I caught a clearer glimpse of that vivid green, warm and steady, as though trying to peel back the walls I¡¯d built. ¡°Well, see you around, Princess,¡± he said with a soft grin, his voice lighter than the moment felt. Then, with a casual wave of his cybernetic hand, he turned and headed for the door. The moment it slid shut behind him, the Med bay felt colder, emptier. The quiet rushed back in, pressing down on me like a second skin. The drone disappeared, leaving the room oppressively quiet. I slipped off the exam table, the cool floor biting at my bare feet. ¡°I¡¯ll check in later,¡± I mumbled, avoiding Yates¡¯ gaze as she worked. She didn¡¯t press¡ªshe rarely did. But her silence felt heavier than usual, as though she could see the weight of the secrets I carried. The Med bay door hissed shut behind me, the sterile chill giving way to the sprawling, dimly lit corridors of Jericho. The ship felt cavernous and unnervingly empty, a stark reminder of how small our active crew was. Team A¡ªWarren, Vega, Ashly, Garin, Reid, Yates, Holt, Jimmy, and myself¡ªwas all that remained awake, along with Dr. Knight from Team B. The other captains and their teams remained in cryo, leaving Warren as the senior authority aboard. Vega, ever calm and tactical, carried much of the burden alongside Warren. Garin and Ashly buried themselves in their projects, retreating from the growing strain. Knight remained fixated on her secretive work in Lab 3, while Reid¡¯s forced humor barely masked the tension gripping us all. Holt and Jimmy kept their distance, watching from the sidelines but offering little beyond wary glances. Yates, the true neutral party, worked quietly to keep the peace, her steady presence a fragile thread holding us together. The corridors felt endless, mirroring how stretched thin we all were. Tension simmered, driven by Knight and me, but amplified by the looming threat of Lion¡¯s next move. His decision to bypass the captains and wake me first, using his emergency authority, reminded everyone of his dominance and readiness to act. Since then, the captains had grown wary. Garin¡¯s cybernetic upgrades kept them connected, allowing them to monitor crew actions even in cryo. It was a safeguard against Warren and a silent warning to the rest of us: any misstep with Phoenix, and they¡¯d wake to intervene. Knight and I continued our work in Lab 3. She had shifted much of the heavy lifting onto me, her sharp tone making it clear she considered me less of a partner and more of an underling. Questions were met with clipped, impatient responses, and hesitation earned me one of her scathing remarks. Working with her was an endurance test, a daily exercise in biting my tongue to keep the peace. For all her brilliance, she was still a monumental pain in the ass. The nightmares came less often now¡ªonce or twice a week instead of every night¡ªbut when they did, they left me shaken and raw, clawing for control. Twisted memories of my father¡¯s lab, the screams of the infected, and flashes of yellow eyes haunted my sleep, their presence lingering even as I woke. Knight¡¯s presence didn¡¯t help. Every sharp word, every dismissive glare grated on my nerves, reminding me of just how much I hated her. She was cold, calculating, and as insufferable as she was intelligent. If it weren¡¯t for the weight of the work we had to finish, I might have shoved her out an airlock. On paper, the inhibitor was a success. It kept Phoenix in check, dulled its sharp edges enough to appease the captains¡ªfor now. Warren and Vega both knew the accelerant existed, but they didn¡¯t understand what it was truly for. Officially, it was framed as a contingency, a tool to stabilize Phoenix in more volatile hosts. In reality, it was the linchpin of Project Chimera, the key to unlocking the virus¡¯s full potential¡ªa truth Knight and I kept tightly locked away. Progress on the accelerant was deliberately vague. We offered just enough updates to satisfy the captains, careful not to reveal the true scope of our work. Knight handled the more sensitive testing in secret, encrypting her results so thoroughly I could only access what she allowed. To the rest of the crew, we were making cautious, steady progress. But in the cold, quiet confines of Lab 3, the real work unfolded, dragging us closer to the moment when lies would no longer suffice. I played my part, letting Knight handle the captains while I became the data point she paraded around. Scans, blood draws, and observations¡ªall proof that the inhibitor was working. ¡°The virus is stabilizing,¡± she¡¯d say. ¡°Sol is stable.¡± But Knight didn¡¯t hear the whispers at night. She didn¡¯t hear my father¡¯s voice, dulled but ever-present, weaving through the edges of my thoughts. The inhibitor dulled Phoenix, I¡¯d give her that. The hunger that once consumed me was now a faint hum, quiet enough that I couldn¡¯t bring myself to eat a living animal anymore. Knight noted it clinically during one of our sessions. ¡°Another sign of progress,¡± she remarked, as if my aversion to ripping flesh from bone were a lab result. I hadn¡¯t told her about the whispers. About how they still lingered in the quiet moments, haunting and relentless. Some nights, I¡¯d find myself in the storage bay where the animals were kept, my hands trembling as I reached for the lock. The whispers stirred in those moments, soft but insistent, encouraging me to give in. My father¡¯s voice, coaxing and cruel, wove through my thoughts. They¡¯re just animals. You need this. You¡¯re stronger because of it. But the clarity the inhibitor brought made those whispers all the more horrifying. I¡¯d stare at my hands, trembling not from hunger but from the realization of how far I¡¯d fallen. The madness was dimmed, and in its place was the stark, unfiltered truth of what I was becoming. Every time, I would step back, retreating to the empty corridors with shaking limbs and a racing heart. The hunger was dulled but never gone, and now, with my mind clear, I couldn¡¯t deny how alien it made me feel¡ªhow far I¡¯d already drifted from what I once was. The lab became my world, its cold walls and sterile light a prison I couldn¡¯t escape. Knight watched me closely, her calculating gaze a constant weight. Warren and Vega stopped by occasionally, their questions pointed, their eyes wary. Ashly and Garin rarely came by anymore, preferring to bury themselves in their own work. Observation and testing were all that remained for the inhibitor, tasks Knight could handle without much input. But the quiet came at a cost. Without constant oversight, Knight could push the accelerant forward, inching closer to her hidden agenda. And I... I was left alone with the whispers. They were a reminder of my father¡¯s shadow, of the monster lurking beneath my skin. Phoenix was quiet now, suppressed by the inhibitor, but it wasn¡¯t gone. It was waiting. And deep down, I knew I was, too. The virus was evolving with each iteration, adapting with frightening efficiency. Knight¡¯s inhibitors tempered its aggression, but this was the third injection, and it was already less effective then the first. The whispers stirred faintly, and the hunger clawed at me, restrained but growing. ¡°Stability,¡± Knight said one evening, her voice sharp as she reviewed the glowing strands of data on the monitor. ¡°That¡¯s what matters. If we can control the mutations without compromising regeneration, we¡¯ll have something viable for a new host.¡± I didn¡¯t respond, my focus fixed on the virus displayed on the screen. Each glowing thread felt like a fragment of my father¡¯s shadow, stretching over everything¡ªover me. Progress was progress, but every step forward felt like tightening a noose around my neck. Knight¡¯s confidence grew with each small success, but I couldn¡¯t share it. The results were promising on paper, sure. In reality, the virus was still dangerous, still unpredictable. And I was its unwilling prototype. Still, I pushed forward, clinging to the faint hope that understanding Phoenix might one day mean reclaiming myself. By the third week, Knight called our results ¡°promising.¡± The virus, she said, could theoretically bond to another host without killing them outright. In theory. But theories and realities rarely aligned when it came to Phoenix. Knight¡¯s enthusiasm grated on me, her vision of success tethered too tightly to my father¡¯s ambitions. She had also adjusted my diet, calling it necessary preparation for future tests. Along with my regular meals, I was given high-calorie protein bars and supplement pills, dense with engineered biomass. I ate without question, feeling the weight add up, yet my frame never changed. The virus condensed it, optimizing every ounce, making my muscles denser, my bones heavier. "You''re adapting well," Knight had said, scanning the latest numbers. "By the time the accelerant is ready, your body will sustain it without breaking down." Breaking down. The words sat uncomfortably in my mind. I wanted answers¡ªabout the virus, my father, and myself. But every new discovery only seemed to deepen the questions and the weight of everything I still didn¡¯t understand. One evening, as we reviewed the latest data, Knight broke the silence, her tone sharp with determination. ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± she said, tapping a glowing strand of data on the screen. ¡°It¡¯s almost time to test the accelerant. We¡¯ll need Lion and a few guards present¡ªjust in case.¡± My stomach twisted, a chill running down my spine. ¡°Afraid I¡¯ll turn into another Wilks?¡± I asked quietly. The thought of testing the accelerant terrified me. It felt like opening a door that couldn¡¯t be closed, and deep down, I knew what lay on the other side. It was far too easy to become a monster. Knight¡¯s gaze flicked to me, her expression unreadable. ¡°We won¡¯t have a choice soon, Sol. You know that.¡± She hesitated just long enough for the threat to land. ¡°And if you don¡¯t cooperate, well... you know what¡¯ll happen to Reid.¡± Anger flared hot and fast, my voice low and sharp. ¡°If you so much as touch him, claws or not, I¡¯ll kill you.¡± For a moment, her composure faltered, but the cruel smirk that followed made it clear she had the upper hand. ¡°You might be able to kill me,¡± Knight said, her voice low and razor-sharp, ¡°but Lion? He wouldn¡¯t waste the effort. He wouldn¡¯t hurt you¡ªhe¡¯d just lock you in a lab until the work was done, no matter how long it took. Immortality is a curse when you¡¯re at his mercy, isn¡¯t it?¡± She leaned closer, her gaze cold and calculating. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a good thing your father doesn¡¯t understand just how pathetic you really are. Can you imagine? All his work, all his sacrifices¡­ for this?¡± She gestured to me with a dismissive wave, her words cutting deeper than any blade. ¡°But don¡¯t worry, Sol. It¡¯s in my best interest to keep you alive. After all, you¡¯re too valuable to waste, even if you¡¯re a disappointment.¡± She was right, and we both knew it. Damn it, she was right about everything. The captains were growing restless, and the fragile peace the inhibitor had provided was slipping through my fingers. I stared at the monitor, its screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Lines of data scrolled past, a detailed breakdown of what Phoenix had become. My father¡¯s creation. Knight¡¯s ambition. My curse. The virus seemed alive even in numbers and graphs, its evolution curling and twisting like it was trying to tell me something I couldn¡¯t quite grasp. And through it all, I felt them¡ªthe yellow eyes, always watching. Waiting. Just like Jericho. The Hemlock haunted me¡ªthose grotesque creatures that had once been human. Twisted forms born of desperation and failure. Warnings of what Phoenix could become. Would Knight and I lead us down the same path? Would the accelerant turn us into monsters, too? The thought clawed at me, its weight suffocating. Yet, without Phoenix, none of us would make it to Haven. A century still stretched ahead¡ªa century too long for these fragile human bodies aboard. Even with cryo and extended lifespans, the captains were already showing the wear of time. Phoenix wasn¡¯t just survival for me; it was survival for all of us. But at what cost? Nearly a thousand souls slept in cryo aboard Jericho¡ªthe best and brightest Earth could offer, or just those rich enough to buy their way onto humanity¡¯s last hope. They were supposed to be the future, waiting to reach Haven and restart civilization alongside whatever might still exist there¡ªif there was anything left at all. All we really know for sure is that Haven is habitable. At least, that¡¯s what we¡¯ve been told. Officially, the mission was simple: deliver them¡ªand Jericho¡¯s fusion core¡ªto the colony. But the truth wasn¡¯t so clean-cut, and only a handful of us knew it. Captain Warren, the other captains, Lion, Knight¡­ and me. Dragon. The black hole at the heart of Jericho¡¯s fusion core wasn¡¯t just cutting-edge tech. It¡¯s a ticking bomb. A risk so monumental it could either save us all or destroy everything in the blink of an eye. And the only thing that rivaled Dragon in its potential to be both savior and threat was Phoenix. The virus. The thing that lives inside me. My reflection in the polished surface of the monitor caught my eye. The faint red glow of my left iris, the smoothness of my skin, the quiet hum of hunger lurking beneath it all. Phoenix isn¡¯t just inside me¡ªit¡¯s me. Dad, what the hell were you thinking? The whispers stirred faintly at the edges of my mind, their presence a quiet, insistent hum. You need this. You can¡¯t fight it forever. Give in. I shook my head, swallowing hard, but the hunger lingered, waiting for its chance. Tomorrow, the tests would begin. The accelerant would push us forward, but it would also shatter the fragile balance the inhibitor had brought. The whispers will grow louder. The hunger will return. And then what? Will I rip through flesh and blood again? Will I still be able to stop? I miss you, Daddy. The thought clung to me, heavy and unshakable. Despite everything, I miss you so much. Your voice, your promises¡ªthey¡¯re all I have left, and even those are slipping away. He used to promise me the world¡ªand deliver. But it wasn¡¯t just the world, was it? No, he promised me the stars themselves, pulling them from the heavens with that brilliant mind of his. And he delivered. Every time. But this... this thing. Is it really you? Or just what¡¯s left of you? The sound of Knight¡¯s voice broke through my thoughts, sharp and cold. ¡°You¡¯re wasting time,¡± she said, not even looking up from her console. ¡°If you¡¯d focus for five seconds, maybe we¡¯d get somewhere.¡±
I ignored her, shutting off the monitor with a flick of my fingers. As I stepped toward the corridor, I shoved a drone out of my way, its hum fading as I walked past.
I glanced up. There they were¡ªreal this time. Glowing faintly in the vent above, the eyes shifted, watching me with a chilling stillness that felt more deliberate than animal. The faint scrape came again, metal against metal, as though whatever was up there wanted me to know it was watching. My pulse quickened, the cold air of the corridor biting at my skin as I forced myself to move. Don¡¯t stop. Don¡¯t look back. My pace quickened, but the weight of those eyes followed me, the memory now alive and crawling beneath my skin. Just like Jericho¡ªalways watching, always waiting. Just like Jericho, always watching, always waiting. I left the lab, the sterile hum of its equipment giving way to the quiet emptiness of the corridor. Knight muttered something behind me, her words dripping with disdain, but I didn¡¯t care. The cold air of the ship pressed against my skin, and I felt the weight of everything settle onto my shoulders. Alone again. I hated how alone I felt. But isn¡¯t that better? If I¡¯m alone, at least I can¡¯t hurt anyone. Not yet. Still, a part of me wondered... if this could bring him back, would that be so terrible? Chapter 17 : Evolution Through Pain For two days, I ignored every summons. Every curt message Knight sent, every increasingly irritated order demanding I return to Lab 3. I avoided the lab, the med bay, even the usual meal rotations. Every time I passed the crew, I felt their eyes on me¡ªsome wary, some expectant. They knew it was coming, too. The accelerant test wasn¡¯t a secret, even if its true purpose was. The inhibitor had been a success¡ªat least on the clone animals it was tested on. They were alive and stable, their bodies adjusting to the controlled mutations Knight had induced. Some even exhibited improved regenerative healing, though none came close to what I could do. But it was undeniable progress¡ªprogress the captains saw as justification to give Knight the green light to continue her work. They didn¡¯t understand. They thought they were overseeing a scientific breakthrough, something that could revolutionize survival in deep space. They saw potential, not horror. And I couldn¡¯t warn any of them. Not unless I wanted Lion to kill them all. He would, without hesitation. Not out of anger, not even out of malice¡ªjust duty. The captains were important, but not as important as the mission. Not as important as me. And if he thought I was compromising the integrity of the project, if he even suspected I was turning them against Knight¡ªhe¡¯d do what was necessary. Because he still answered to my father. And my father¡¯s vision left no room for disobedience. By the second evening, the messages stopped. Instead, a new one came through¡ª
From: Dr. Emilia Knight To: Sol Voss Subject: Final Warning You¡¯re done sulking. Get down to Lab 3¡ªnow. If I have to send Lion after you, I promise you¡¯ll regret it. You can throw your little tantrum all you want, but you are not special, and you are not above this. I made you stronger than this¡ªstop acting pathetic. You are my daughter, and my genetics would never produce something this weak. A fucking alcoholic, depending on outside substances just to keep yourself together. Coward. You can¡¯t hide forever. ¡ª Knight
I stared at the words on my datapad¡ªthe threat heavy even through the sterile digital text. A quiet rage curled in my gut¡ª
From: Sol Voss To: Dr. Emilia Knight Subject: Re: Final Warning Fuck off, Emilia. Suck my clit, you insufferable, lab-coat-wearing parasitic whore. Don¡¯t talk to me like I owe you a goddamn thing. You¡¯re not my mother¡ªyou¡¯re just a glorified test tube with a superiority complex. You think pushing me out of your cunt makes you a Voss? Please. Who¡¯s the real Voss here? Shouldn¡¯t you be on your knees for my family¡¯s legacy, bitch? That¡¯s what you¡¯re good at, isn¡¯t it? ¡ª Sol
I sent it. The cunt didn¡¯t deserve anything else. The words lingered on the screen for a moment before vanishing into the system. My fingers tightened around the device as something colder than anger settled in my chest. My childhood felt closer than it should have¡ªthe clinical sterility of it, the way orders were given, not spoken. The way he had trained me, tested me, used me. I tossed the datapad onto the bed, watching as it slid to a stop against the sheets. The small screen dimmed, leaving only my reflection in the black glass¡ªhollow-eyed, pale, something restless shifting beneath my skin. I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. The thought of being dragged to Lab 3, escorted like an unruly child, made my skin crawl. I needed time. I needed space to think¡ªto figure out if I could even go through with this. The pad¡¯s faint glow pulsed once before fading completely, swallowed by the dim cabin light. The silence stretched. The space between choices felt thinner than ever. I needed to not be alone. Finding Reid wasn¡¯t hard. He had his usual spots¡ªengineering, the maintenance tunnels, or the observation deck where he liked to sit and pretend he wasn¡¯t avoiding real responsibilities. I found him in the latter, leaned back against the cool glass of the viewport, a flask already in hand. He glanced up when I approached, one brow lifting. "Well, well. If it isn¡¯t my favorite test subject." He patted the floor next to him. "What¡¯s the occasion? You finally decide to embrace your inner science experiment?" "The opposite lately," I muttered vaguely. I couldn¡¯t tell Reid anything that would make him step in¡ªor try to. I dropped down beside him, stretching my legs out. The hunger wasn¡¯t bad yet, but my body felt heavier than usual, the extra weight settling deep in my bones. I gestured at the flask. "Got any left, or did you already drink yourself into another bad decision?" Reid snorted, passing it over. "I¡¯m about to make one. But you¡¯re lucky I like you, Princess. After last time, I should¡¯ve put you on probation." I took a swig, the burn hitting my throat like a freight train. Awful. Exactly what I needed. Reid snorted, passing it over. "You¡¯re lucky I like you, Princess. After last time, I should¡¯ve put you on probation." I took a swig, the burn hitting my throat like a freight train. Awful. Exactly what I needed. ¡°You don¡¯t get to ban me,¡± I muttered. ¡°I outrank you.¡± ¡°Yeah? Try pulling rank when you¡¯re flat on your ass after two shots of my special reserve.¡± I made a vague, dismissive gesture, already taking another sip. ¡°Then I¡¯ll just bring Lion and make it his problem.¡± Reid winced dramatically. ¡°You are a terrible drinking buddy.¡± For a while, we just sat there, staring out at the void. Jericho had just exited warp, drifting in high orbit over a frozen, impact-scarred moon. Below us, the gas giant it circled stretched massive and golden, wrapped in streaks of red and white. Beyond it, twin stars burned¡ªone a massive blue giant, the other a dying red dwarf, locked in a slow gravitational waltz. Jericho was running deep scans, plotting the next jump, refueling from the gas giant¡¯s upper atmosphere. It was beautiful. Almost unreal. Reid tapped his knuckles against the glass. "Makes you feel small, doesn¡¯t it?" I huffed. "Yeah. Just a bit." He let out a long exhale. "Sometimes I think I could just stay out here forever. Just float. No orders, no politics, no Lab 3 bullshit." He tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. "Just me, a good ship, and this." I watched him for a moment. Then held the flask out. He took it with a smirk. "See? You get it." The night blurred from there¡ªtalking, arguing about stupid shit, making fun of Garin¡¯s ridiculous posture and how he managed to always look like he was judging someone. At some point, I knew I started rambling about the test, about how Knight was forcing me into something I wasn¡¯t ready for. I must¡¯ve sounded like an idiot because Reid got quieter, letting me talk, not interrupting. At some point, I remembered his hand on my shoulder, steady and real. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Princess. You always are.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if I said something back. The rest was a haze. And then¡ª The dreams always started the same way. Hands that weren¡¯t quite my own reached out, clawed and trembling. My skin peeled back, bones cracking, the sound of my screams drowned by the sickening wetness of tearing flesh. Through it all, there was a voice¡ªsoft, coaxing, and painfully familiar. You¡¯re so close now, my little phoenix. Closer than you¡¯ve ever been. Then the other voice, deeper and primal, laced with hunger. You can¡¯t hide from me. I am you. You are me. I woke with a sharp inhale, heart pounding, throat dry. The whispers dissolved into the steady hum of Jericho¡¯s life support systems, but the weight of them clung to me. My body felt heavier than it had any right to be, like I¡¯d been sinking into the mattress all night. I pushed myself upright, limbs sluggish, the dull ache in my muscles a reminder of what I was now. The med scanner beside me blinked softly. 400 pounds. I stared at the number for a long moment. I used to weigh less than a hundred. The thought came unbidden, sharp in its contrast. I remembered the way my bones had jutted out before, my frame delicate, weightless. Now, my body was something else entirely¡ªdenser, compacted, refined by the virus into something unnatural. I didn¡¯t look heavy. I looked lean, small even. But every step, every movement carried an unseen weight, a presence that settled into my bones. I turned to the mirror, studying my reflection under the dim glow of the cabin lights. My face was sharper, my features more defined than they used to be. My mismatched eyes¡ªred and blue¡ªburned faintly, the virus pulsing just beneath the surface of my skin. I ran my fingers over my arms, tracing the faintly glowing veins. I could feel the tension coiled beneath, the strength lurking in every fiber of me. The nightmares had been bad before, but this¡ªthis was the worst in weeks. I could still feel it, the phantom sensation of my own flesh splitting apart, the sharp sting of bone tearing through skin. My pulse thrummed in my ears, my breath shallow. I had felt the hunger clawing at the edges of my mind in that dream, felt the thing inside me waking up. The inhibitor was wearing off. I knew it the moment I opened my eyes. I gripped the sink, bracing against the cold metal. Three days. That¡¯s how long I had managed to avoid Lab 3, to ignore Knight and pretend like I had a choice in any of this. I had told her to fuck off. I had pushed her messages aside, let the weight of it sit untouched in my mind. But it didn¡¯t change anything. The accelerant was coming. And when it did, whatever fragile control I had left would be gone. I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers to my temples. The hunger will come back. The same hunger that had driven me to devour everything in sight before I was put into cryo. The same hunger that had made me this heavy, that had forced me to consume everything Knight put in front of me. Engineered nutrient bars, protein compounds, cloned biomass¡ªevery bite had been measured, calculated, necessary. The extra weight wasn¡¯t a mistake. It was preparation. Insurance. And still, it wasn¡¯t enough. I could feel it already, deep in my core. The virus had been burning through it faster than before, optimizing, adapting, preparing. I wasn¡¯t ready. But that didn¡¯t matter. The sharp knock at the door sent a jolt through my already tense nerves. Three knocks. Deliberate. Heavy. I didn¡¯t need to check. I already knew who it was. I closed my eyes for a second, forcing the tension in my shoulders to ease, forcing the anxiety to settle beneath the surface where it belonged. Then, I moved. The door hissed open. Lion stood in the corridor, golden armor gleaming under the sterile light. He didn¡¯t need his warhammer¡ªnot for me. He never did. His presence alone was a wall of unshakable authority. Behind him, Eagle and Wolf moved in perfect sync, lowering to one knee in a motion so precise it barely seemed human. A silent acknowledgment¡ªnot to me, but to the bloodline I carried. The moment passed as quickly as it came, the two rising without hesitation, falling into step at Lion¡¯s flanks. A formality. A reminder. I wasn¡¯t their commander. Not really. I never had been. Eagle¡¯s gold-trimmed armor caught the light, feather-like engravings glinting against the black plating. Her helmet was smooth, aerodynamic, visor a blank sheet of gold. Cold. Measuring. Wolf, in contrast, radiated aggression. His silver-gray armor was jagged, a synthetic fur mantle shifting as he moved. Twin daggers were strapped to his thighs, his fingers twitching toward the hilts as if waiting for an excuse. His crimson visor gave nothing away, but I knew the way he looked at me. He had trained me once¡ªbefore I was anything more than a human girl trying to keep up. He never let me win. Not once. Pain is the best teacher, he had told me. You never forget a lesson when it scars. I wondered if he still thought I was someone who could be taught. Or if I had already become something else entirely. They weren¡¯t here as an escort. They were here as containment. The Royal Guard¡ªmy father¡¯s greatest weapons. Cybernetics, genetic enhancements, and experimental tech so dangerous only he and those standing before me truly knew the extent of it. They weren¡¯t just soldiers. They were the last line. The unbreakable wall between humanity and whatever horrors the void had waiting. And if the void ever needed horrors of its own, well¡­ that¡¯s what they had become. They were supposed to follow my command. Supposed to protect me. But their true loyalty had never been mine. It belonged to him. To Julian Voss. Or at least¡­ to what was left of him.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. A ghost in my head. A monster in the dark. And if it ever came down to a choice between me and him¡­ I already knew who they would obey. I inhaled slowly, forcing the tension from my shoulders, but my throat felt tight. ¡°Does it have to be today?¡± My voice was quieter than I meant it to be. Lion tilted his head slightly, watching me. ¡°Jericho waits for no one,¡± he said simply, stepping forward, leaving no room for argument. ¡°You¡¯ve carried your father¡¯s work this far. Today, we¡¯ll see if his vision holds.¡± His vision. The words made my stomach twist. Is that all I am? My father¡¯s dream, reshaped into something I barely recognize? I swallowed hard. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. Then, slowly, I stepped forward. Eagle and Wolf fell in beside me, their movements precise, synchronized¡ªlike cogs in a machine. As I passed the threshold, the door hissed behind me. A surge of instinct hit me, reckless and desperate. I turned back, hand darting for the panel¡ªif I could lock it, if I could just seal myself inside¡ª Cold metal barely shifted before Lion¡¯s hand caught the edge. Effortless. Final. His golden visor burned down at me, unreadable. I didn¡¯t fight. I didn¡¯t have to. That one gesture told me everything. It had never been my choice. The door sealed shut, and I kept walking. Lab 3 wasn¡¯t far, but the silence stretched the distance. The Guard never spoke unless necessary, and I had nothing to say to them. Their boots struck the floor in perfect unison, each step landing in sync with my own, a rhythm I couldn¡¯t break. The ship hummed low around us, its systems alive, humming through the walls, through the vents, through the blinking red eye of a drone watching from the ceiling. Jericho¡¯s always watching. I kept my breathing steady, my expression blank as the terror dug deeper into my heart. Ahead, the reinforced doors of Lab 3 loomed, cold and unyielding. Lion stopped just before them, turning slightly. His gaze locked onto me with something unreadable¡ªrespect, caution, expectation. Then, without a word, he reached to his belt and pulled out something I hadn¡¯t expected to see again. My father¡¯s journal. Fuck. A slow dread curled in my stomach, spreading like ice through my veins. "You¡¯ve learned too much," Lion said, his tone measured but firm. "Too soon." I forced my face into something unreadable, but my fingers twitched at my sides, itching to snatch the book from his grasp. The leather cover was worn, pages dog-eared where I had spent only minutes poring over my father¡¯s notes¡ªjust minutes before Lion had found me, before he¡¯d ripped me away and thrown me into cryo. I had barely had time to rifle through it, my hands frantic as I searched for anything¡ªanything¡ªthat could tell me what Chimera was. But the pages blurred together, scrawled formulas and half-mad theories bleeding into each other, and then it was too late. Yet, here it is again. "I had a right to it." My voice came out steadier than I felt. Lion tilted his head, considering me. "In time, yes. But understanding comes with guidance, and your father meant for you to have both." He studied me for a long moment before adding, "That¡¯s why we¡¯re here." The words landed heavier than I expected. Guidance. As if they were my keepers, as if I were some fragile, unfinished experiment that needed supervision. I bit back a bitter laugh. Maybe I am. "You think you can guide me?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Not just me." Lion lifted the book slightly. "All of us. Until the King is whole again. Then, we take the stars. And for that, you are worth the effort, Princess." A chill coiled in my spine, deeper than the sterile cold of the lab. Whole again. They didn¡¯t see him as a failure. Not as a shattered remnant of Julian Voss, the man. No¡ªhe was something unfinished. Something waiting to be restored. And then, as if summoned by my horror, the whisper slithered through my mind¡ªdeep, warm, proud. Ah, Lion¡­ my sword. Your hammer. He knows how to forge humanity into the weapon we need. I forced my expression to stay neutral, even as a shudder crawled beneath my skin. My father had never spoken of me like that before. Always urging, always pushing. But this? This was reverence. "You actually believe that, don¡¯t you?" My voice came out quieter than I intended. "That I¡¯m worth all of this¡ªbecause of my blood? Because of some dead man¡¯s dream to carve humanity across the stars?" Lion didn¡¯t hesitate. "Your blood is still his. His will is still in you. That makes you worthy of patience." He glanced at Eagle and Wolf, then back to me. "You are a Voss. That earns you respect. It always will." Respect. As if that meant anything when my body wasn¡¯t even mine anymore. "But respect and trust," he continued, stepping closer, "are not the same." Without another word, he turned and handed the book to Knight, who had been waiting by the entrance. She smirked, flipping through the pages without a second thought, not even looking at me. "Finally," she muttered. Then, with a pointed look at Lion, she added, "You can¡¯t just hoard things that don¡¯t belong to you." It belonged to my father. The words burned in my throat, but I didn¡¯t say them. Not yet. Knight tucked the book under her arm as she moved toward the lab. "And now it belongs to me." You fucking bitch. The rage curled tight in my gut, twisting like a living thing. I swallowed it down, forcing my body to move before they decided I needed "help." I stepped past Lion into the sterile, too-bright lab. The test chamber was already prepped¡ªreinforced walls, medical monitoring screens, the hum of containment fields active and waiting. At the center, the examination chair stood like an execution seat, its restraints gleaming under the lights. Lion gestured toward it. "Sit down." I did. The restraints clicked into place. Knight adjusted the syringe in her hand, the thick red accelerant inside gleaming. "This is just the first dose," she said, voice clinical, detached. "A primer. Nothing extreme." She said it like I had a choice. I exhaled slowly, bracing myself. "First, you will need this." Wolf''s armored hand clamped around my jaw, fingers digging into my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. The pressure was bruising, my teeth aching from the force. I tried to twist away, but Eagle was already pinning my legs, her grip as unshakable as iron. Knight didn¡¯t hesitate. The test tube slammed past my lips, glass scraping against my teeth, forcing my throat open. "This will keep you alive as we push the limits of the accelerant." My gag reflex kicked immediately, my throat convulsing against the slick, oversized tube. The moment it lodged deep enough, I felt it¡ªthick, sludge-like biomass pouring into my mouth. It was warm, heavy, coating my tongue and forcing its way down. I choked, my body instinctively thrashing, but Wolf only tightened his grip, his free hand grinding against my temple to keep me still. "Swallow, Sol." Knight¡¯s voice was barely amused, but I could hear the sharp edge of curiosity beneath it. Like she was watching something crawl under a microscope. I barely had time to gasp for air between cycles¡ªbetween the thick, force-fed pulses of biomass flooding my throat. Each time the tube paused, I sucked in a desperate breath, only for the next wave to come, forcing my body to keep up, to take more, to endure. Ashly, standing at the monitor, wouldn¡¯t look at me. Garin, on the other hand, smirked. "You''re pathetic when you''re like this," he muttered, voice edged with amusement. The tube pulsed, more biomass flooding into me. My stomach convulsed at the sheer force of it. My body felt too full, too fast, like it was being overridden, forced to absorb more than it could handle. Then the first needle sank into my skin. The accelerant hit immediately. Fire erupted in my veins, a searing, ravenous burn that clawed through my muscles. My back arched violently, the restraints groaning as my body reacted, muscles tensing, coiling. The hunger¡ªthe virus¡ªwoke all at once, screaming through every cell. It tore through the biomass, devouring it at a terrifying rate, converting everything into raw, unstoppable energy. My body snapped forward, but the restraints held. My legs kicked, my arms jerked, but I was trapped. I could barely breathe past the tube forcing more and more down my throat. Knight adjusted the dosage. The pain amplified. Hair exploded from my scalp, strands snapping outwards in a cascading wave, curling past my back, down my legs, growing in thick, silken strands at an unstoppable rate. My nails split, reforming into something longer, sharper, the tips curving into lethal, midnight black claws. My feet twitched violently, bones shifting, stretching, the shoes bursting apart as my toes elongated, nails hardening into hooked talons. The chair beneath me groaned, metal protesting under my shifting weight. The hunger was all-consuming. I couldn¡¯t think¡ªonly feel. "Vitals spiking," Ashly muttered from the console, voice strained. "She¡¯s metabolizing too fast¡ª" "She¡¯ll survive," Knight cut her off smoothly. "That¡¯s the point." The second needle sank into my arm. I screamed, or I tried to. The sound came out muffled, buried under the biomass still forcing itself down my throat. My muscles contracted violently, my weight fluctuating as my body burned through reserves at a terrifying rate. Knight stepped forward, blade in hand. "Let¡¯s see how well she recovers." The cold press of metal against my wrist was the only warning I got. Then¡ª She cut my hand off. White-hot agony tore through my arm, my nerves screaming as my hand separated from my body, severed flesh and bone exposing itself in a gruesome, instantaneous burst of pain. Blood splattered across the floor. I convulsed, the restraints straining, my back arching as I fought against them, muscles bulging, steel groaning under my raw strength. I felt it. The moment my hand hit the cold ground, the hunger reacted, like it had been waiting for this. My body didn¡¯t hesitate. The wound closed instantly, flesh knitting together in a violent, explosive burst of regeneration. Bone, tendon, muscle¡ªall of it surged back, rebuilding, reshaping, reforming. It took seconds. The pain was unbearable. I screamed again, my head slamming back against the chair as my newly formed fingers twitched, fresh, raw, perfect. Knight hummed in approval. "Faster than before." The blade came down again. The other hand. The pain was just as brutal. I felt it detach, felt the nerve endings rupture, the blood vessels tear open. And then¡ªback again. The growth was even faster this time, a blinding explosion of regenerative force, my new fingers curling into claws before I had even registered the loss. The hunger was starving for more. The whisper slithered through the agony, deep and coiled with satisfaction. Yes. Again. More. You feel it, don¡¯t you? The power in your bones, the fire in your flesh. You are not meant to stop. You are meant to consume, to grow, to become. A violent shudder racked my body, the whisper latching onto my pain, feeding from it, urging it forward. You¡¯re still holding back, my little phoenix. But not for long. Knight¡¯s gaze flicked to my face. Then she reached for my eye. I jerked violently, but Wolf and Eagle held me down. My chest heaved, breaths ragged, mind fracturing under the sheer onslaught of pain. Knight¡¯s fingers pressed into the socket, her grip twisting. I shrieked, the sound raw, broken, my body thrashing so violently I felt something in the chair bend. And then¡ª A wet pop. Agony seared through my skull as my left eye was torn free, the nerve snapping like a frayed wire. My vision doubled¡ªthen fractured, one side collapsing into a void of blackness. For a fraction of a second, I saw it. My severed eye, strands of red muscle and nerve still twitching, dangling from Knight¡¯s fingers like some grotesque experiment. Flickering, failing signals sent fragmented images¡ªof me. A ruined face. A gaping, bloodied socket. A snarl, raw and animalistic, my fangs clenched around the invasive tube, breath hissing past it as pain wracked through me. Then¡ªnothing. The world dimmed, my body shuddering violently as hot blood streaked down my cheek. Knight turned the eye in her fingers, studying it with detached fascination. "This one was nice," she murmured, watching how the red iris gleamed under the sterile lab lights. I felt it before I saw it. A fresh, raw agony¡ªnew nerves igniting, optic fibers spinning into existence. The searing heat of flesh knitting itself back together. The process was faster now, sharper, my body adapting, overcompensating. Making itself stronger. The darkness shattered. Light flooded back in. Knight leaned in, grinning. "There it is," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Your new one is coming in nicely." I forced myself to breathe, fingers twitching against the restraints. I turned my head just enough to glare at her. She smirked. Then, with deliberate care, she held up my severed eye between two fingers. It twitched. Still warm. Still mine. Then¡ªshe dropped it into a waiting jar. The liquid hissed as the glass clicked shut, preserving it in cold stasis. "Your new one is even redder than the last," Knight murmured, amused. The whisper curled in the back of my mind, sliding through the pain, deep and knowing. Yes¡­ better. Stronger. You¡¯re closer now, my little phoenix. A shudder crawled down my spine, even as the burning ache of regeneration pulsed beneath my skin. Knight only watched, intrigued, her smirk widening. The moment the words left her mouth, Ashly broke. A sharp inhale, a strangled noise in the back of her throat¡ªher hands trembled violently over the console. I barely had time to register it before she lurched back, her shoulder slamming against the table. Her skin had gone deathly pale. She turned away so fast she nearly tripped, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with barely contained horror. Then she ran. A blur of motion, a choked sob, and then the heavy sound of retching just outside the lab. She didn¡¯t come back. It didn¡¯t matter. I was somewhere else¡ªburied in the agony, drowning in the hunger, my mind split between the pain of being torn apart and the terrifying ease of growing back. Knight barely acknowledged Ashly¡¯s absence. She only smiled down at her datapad, adjusting the next dose. The test went on. For what felt like hours. Knight and Garin took turns¡ªslicing, severing, observing, and then watching me regenerate. Over. And over. And over again. At some point, Lion spoke. His voice cut through the sterile hum of the lab, calm but firm. ¡°Is this necessary?¡± Knight didn¡¯t even look up. ¡°Pain is progress,¡± she murmured, making a note as she adjusted another setting. ¡°You should know that more than anyone, Lion.¡± Whatever she meant by that, it was enough. He said nothing else. And so the test continued, the madwoman left to her work. They measured everything¡ªtimed each regrowth with military precision, adjusting the dosage of the accelerant, pushing the limits of my body until my bones ached from the relentless cycle of destruction and rebirth. Each time, my body reacted faster. More efficiently. They noted how my muscle fibers tightened between regenerations, growing denser each time. How my skin became smoother, stronger, less susceptible to injury. How my new eye burned even brighter than before, my iris shifting into an even deeper, richer red. Knight laughed as she documented the changes. "Perfect. It''s evolving in real time."
I didn¡¯t respond. Couldn¡¯t. I was too far gone¡ªsomewhere between agony and nothingness, my mind fraying under the sheer weight of it. I was screaming less. My body adapting to the pain. A disturbing part of me¡ªsome deep, twisted thing¡ªknew this was exactly what Knight wanted. Then, suddenly¡ªvoices from outside the lab. Raised. Angry. I barely processed them. My mind was too fogged with pain, with the constant cycle of my own body tearing apart and rebuilding itself. But I felt it. The shift. The moment Lion left the room. He must have gone to meet them. Warren. Reid. I caught fragments of their voices¡ªangry, sharp, demanding answers. "What the fuck are you doing to her?" Reid¡¯s voice. Furious. I tried to lift my head¡ªtried to focus¡ªbut the restraints held firm. My vision blurred, the lights too bright, the hunger still simmering beneath my skin. Knight ignored them. The test continued. By the time the final dose was administered, I was barely conscious. I couldn¡¯t fight anymore. Couldn¡¯t even process the pain. Only knew one thing¡ª It didn¡¯t end until Knight chose to end it. The last thing I felt was the sting of the inhibitor sinking into my veins. A cold flood. A sudden, sharp stillness. The hunger dulled. The burning stopped. The feeding tube was finally ripped from my throat, dragging bile and blood with it. My body convulsed, lungs seizing as I gagged violently. The sudden emptiness in my throat left behind a raw, gaping void, the taste of biomass thick and sour, clinging to my tongue like rot. I choked, sucking in air that felt like knives. Every breath scraped against my ravaged throat, my body rejecting the sensation of breathing for myself again. My limbs twitched, spasming weakly against the restraints. The pain was everywhere¡ªburied deep in my bones, nestled in my flesh, pulsing beneath my skin like a smoldering fire waiting to be fed again. I was so tired. So fucking tired. But beneath the exhaustion, beneath the weight of everything they¡¯d taken, everything they¡¯d torn apart and rebuilt¡ªone thought burned hotter than the rest. I¡¯ll fucking kill you. The words never reached my lips. My throat was too raw, my body too ruined, but the rage was there, coiled like a serpent in my chest, waiting. I meant it. And then¡ª Darkness.
I woke to the sound of voices. Distant. Muffled. Like they were speaking through water. Yates. Reid. Warren. Vega. I knew them. Knew their voices. But they felt¡­ far away. The room was dimly lit, the sterile glow of my quarters almost comforting after the nightmare of Lab 3. The hum of Jericho¡¯s systems pulsed softly through the walls, steady and rhythmic. I was back in my bed. No restraints. No test tubes. But my body¡ª My body still remembered. A phantom ache curled in my hands, my skull, my limbs¡ªthe ghost of wounds that weren¡¯t there anymore but still lingered beneath my skin. A dull, empty throb where my eye had been torn out. The sharp sting of flesh splitting open. The echo of pain that had already become too familiar. I couldn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t want to. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, breath shallow. The worst pain of my life¡ª and it wasn¡¯t over. More tests. More pain. More of me being a lab rat for humanity. Knight. Garin. The whole damn ship, watching, studying, waiting to see what I would become. I swallowed, my throat raw, the aftertaste of blood and biomass thick on my tongue. My stomach twisted at the memory of it, at the way they had forced it down, at the way my body had absorbed every ounce like it had been starving for it. I should be angry. I should be terrified. I should be something. But I wasn¡¯t. I was too tired to care. Too tired to fight. I just wanted to sleep¡­ but the voices. They were still talking. Low. Tense. Deciding my fate like I wasn¡¯t even here. I should listen. I should care. But my body felt too heavy, my thoughts thick and sluggish, slipping between the cracks of sleep and wakefulness. Their words blurred, fading in and out. "She doesn¡¯t deserve this, Warren." Yates. Steady. Certain. A pause. Then another voice, rougher, uncertain. Warren. "If we wake them, we¡¯re admitting we can¡¯t control the situation." "We can¡¯t." Reid. Sharp. Angry. "Not like this. Not with her being treated like¡ªlike that." The words should have mattered. Should have meant something. Then¡ª A sharp, piercing alarm ripped through the quiet. Jericho¡¯s voice followed, smooth but urgent. ¡°Contact detected. Proximity alert. Unidentified vessel approaching.¡± The voices around me changed¡ªno longer tense whispers, but clipped orders, frantic movement. Chairs scraping back, boots striking the floor. "Get to stations!" Warren¡¯s voice, firm, all hesitation gone. "Now." More alarms. The hum of systems shifting, Jericho rerouting power. Reid cursed. Vega was already giving orders. The ship was moving, coming alive around me. Something was coming. I should have cared. Should have been afraid. But sleep had me now, dragging me under, drowning me before I could hold onto anything at all. Chapter 18 : We Inherit Stars I woke up to the sound of battle. The Jericho shook violently, the force of the impact reverberating through the walls. Alarms blared, a mechanical wail of warnings overlapping in a disorienting cacophony. My body ached¡ªevery nerve raw, my limbs heavy, my skin still stinging with phantom pain from the accelerant experiments. My breath hitched as I tried to sit up, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me like a lead blanket. Another impact. The metal frame of my cot rattled, and the walls groaned as something massive exploded outside. I barely had time to register the disarray before my head swam, the lingering aftereffects of the experiments making my movements sluggish, almost disconnected from reality. "No. Not again. Not now." I forced myself upright, a sharp ache spreading through my spine as I swung my legs over the edge of the cot. The familiar taste of copper lingered on my tongue¡ªmy regeneration still burning through whatever damage had been done to me. A deep, rumbling vibration passed through the floor, a pulse that I could feel deep in my bones. I moved to stand, but something coiled around my ankle. My balance wavered¡ªI stumbled, slamming onto my hands and knees. Pain flared, then vanished as my body repaired itself. Then I saw it. Pale white strands pooled around me, dragging against the cold metal floor. My breath caught. My hair. Not just long¡ªunnatural. Seven feet of it, spilling over the ground like something alive. The accelerant. During the test, I had been too consumed by agony to notice. After that, the inhibitor had dulled everything. But it hadn¡¯t stopped the process. Just numbed me to it. Now, with it finally wearing off, the changes were crashing down. I swallowed hard, fingers curling into the strands as I pushed myself up. The weight of it felt wrong¡ªforeign. Then I noticed my clothes. A thin, sweat-damp tank top. Loose shorts. No shoes. No armor. Nothing to protect me. I was vulnerable. Outside, another explosion¡ªbrief, contained. The walls trembled, but Jericho was already repairing itself. Built not just to endure war, but to erase it. I pushed myself up, my too-long hair dragging behind me, balance unsteady. I wasn¡¯t fully myself anymore. Hadn¡¯t been for a long time. No time to think about it. I had bigger problems. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, my voice barely more than a breath. "Jericho," I rasped. "What the hell is happening?" The AI responded instantly, its voice calm, clinical, completely detached from the destruction raging around us. "Hostile engagement in progress. Seven enemy vessels detected. Two neutralized. Remaining forces: one dreadnought, one battleship, one carrier, two destroyers." I swore under my breath. Seven against one. My fingers trembled as I reached for the console, pulling up the external feed. The void of space burned. The wreckage of two organic ships drifted outside, their pulsing, plant-like hulls ruptured and lifeless. Their veins still glowed faintly, twitching, curling inward like dying flowers. Even in death, they looked alive¡ªas if trying to regenerate. Then, Jericho¡¯s railgun fired. The ship shuddered, a deep, earth-shaking boom vibrating through the walls. The force of the shot reverberated through my bones, a dull ache spreading through my battered body. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breath, while the other swiped across the console, stabilizing the feed just in time to show the impact. A slug the size of a fighter craft punched through the dreadnought¡¯s core, splitting it apart. Its hull¡ªif it could even be called that¡ªwasn¡¯t metal but something living. Fibrous plating peeled back like muscle torn from bone, bioluminescent strands snapping and curling inward like severed nerves. Thick, black ichor boiled into the vacuum, writhing, tendrils grasping¡ªthen freezing. Even in death, the ship twitched, convulsing as if trying to mend itself. But there was nothing left to heal. Then, the second shot rang out. The core ruptured. A silent burst of iridescent flame consumed the wreckage near the core. For a moment, the ruined mass hung in the void, its organic remains pulsing weakly, resisting the inevitable. Then, the dreadnought began to break apart¡ªtwo massive sections, each dwarfing the Jericho in sheer size, tearing away from the dying ship, its final spasms sending debris spiraling outward. Escape pods and smaller vessels burst from the wreckage, desperate to flee. Twisting, organic crafts, some no larger than shuttles, others pulsing with erratic bioluminescence, attempted to break free of the carnage. They didn¡¯t get far. Jericho¡¯s laser arrays came to life, precision beams slicing through the escaping ships with cold efficiency. Drones swarmed, hunting down survivors like carrion birds, plasma cutters igniting as they carved through hulls of flesh and chitin. The pods flared briefly¡ªbursts of fire, silent screams swallowed by the void¡ªbefore they, too, were reduced to nothing. Then, piece by piece, the dreadnought dissolved into the black, its last remnants devoured by the endless night. I had seen Jericho fight before¡ªin simulations, in war games where victory was a controlled certainty. But this? This was different. The dreadnought had been a behemoth, a living fortress of tendrils that blotted out the stars. And yet¡ª Reduced to nothing. By humanity¡¯s might. By my father¡¯s warship. One dreadnought down, his voice cooed in my mind. The screen flickered¡ªdebris tumbling, biotic plating curling inward, twitching like severed nerves. Even in death, it spasmed, refusing to die. Silent in the void¡ªbut in my mind, I heard it. A death wail. A final, broken scream. The last embers of its life, snuffed out. But as the wreckage burned, a small chunk drifted free, slipping past the carnage¡ªan ember escaping the fire. Then, another escape pod erupted in flame. Laser fire lanced through its hull, searing flesh and chitin alike. It twisted, desperate, trying to hold itself together before crumpling in on itself. Another burst of fire. Another vessel erased. This wasn¡¯t just war. This was first contact. And humanity had answered with annihilation. I bit down on my tongue¡ªhard. Pain flared, iron flooded my mouth, anchoring me. They dared to reach out, thinking they were our equal. The whisper curled around my thoughts, silk-soft, insidious. We burned them for it. Let them see the Phoenix''s flame. My stomach twisted. This is your legacy. The hunger stirred, coiling in the pit of my gut. I swallowed hard, but the copper tang still clung to my tongue. The whisper hummed, pleased. And the worst part? Some small, terrible part of me agreed. The enemy carrier followed next. Its enormous, root-like structures pulsed erratically, curling inward as its biotic network collapsed. Half its hull was already gone¡ªtorn away by nuclear fire. Fleshy masses of ruptured tissue drifted into the void, still twitching, still leaking, great veins bulging as they hemorrhaged whatever lifeblood sustained them. Desperation. Small ships burst from the dying carrier, a final, frantic attempt at retaliation. Fighters¡ªor whatever passed for them¡ªtwisting, organic things that looked more like predators than spacecraft. Pulsing with sickly bioluminescence, they swarmed outward, their erratic movements betraying the blind instinct that drove them. Jericho¡¯s drones met them mid-flight. A wall of cold precision surged forward¡ªsleek, angular machines moving in perfect synchrony. Plasma cutters ignited in unison, slicing through the first wave like a butcher¡¯s knife through raw flesh. The xeno fighters writhed, tendrils lashing wildly, organic wings beating in futile escape. Where they had instinct, Jericho had calculation. Where they had desperation, Jericho had inevitability. But the Xeno were not without teeth. Spores burst in the vacuum, clinging to the sleek surfaces of the drones, corroding metal with organic rot. Acidic tendrils lashed out, dissolving hulls like flesh under flame. Hundreds of Jericho¡¯s drones fell, their sleek forms twisting apart, reduced to drifting debris before they could counter. But the AI adapted instantly, rerouting surviving drones into hardened formations, sacrificing the compromised units to protect the assault. One by one the organic fighters fell. The last few tried to retreat¡ªto flee back to the husk of their dying carrier. Jericho didn¡¯t let them. The drones descended, precision-made reapers, overwhelming the final stragglers in a storm of plasma and steel. Screams¡ªif they could be called that¡ªwere swallowed by the void. Within seconds, it was over. Humanity was born to inherit the stars, the whisper murmured, thick with certainty. A safe galaxy is a human galaxy. Then, the drones turned to the carrier. Hundreds of them. Thousands. They poured into its open wounds, burrowing deep, a virus infecting soft tissue. Plasma cutters flared, carving through the remaining defenses with surgical precision. The ship shuddered, its organic plating peeling away in charred, curling ribbons, veins bursting, hemorrhaging light. It had been grown, not built. And now, it was being dissected. The carrier shuddered. It was dying. The wreckage of its dying husk convulsed as if it were trying to fight back, its few remaining organic tendrils flailing outward, trying to reach, trying to¡ª The drones cut them down too. No hesitation. No mercy. They swarmed the openings in the hull, pouring in like a plague, burning everything in their path. The screens flickered with distorted visuals from the internal drone feeds¡ªnightmarish flashes of dimly lit corridors lined with pulsating tissue, organic walls that oozed and bled as the drones set them alight. The ship had been grown, not built. And now it was being dissected. The carrier let out one final, heaving spasm¡ªthen collapsed inward, crumpling like a dying flower. I watched it fold into itself, the core rupturing as a wave of internal detonations sent the wreck spiraling into oblivion. Then¡ª Nothing. The carrier was gone. Four down, Three to go.
I barely had time to process it before the battleship and destroyers retaliated. Bright plasma bursts twisted through space, warping the void as they curled unnaturally toward the Jericho. The ship¡¯s plasma shields flared, a wall of energy absorbing the brunt of the assault before the kinetic barriers snapped into place, scattering what little force remained. A few shots slipped through. The hull buckled, seared, molten metal peeling away in ragged, glowing scars¡ªonly for the ship to begin healing itself instantly. Nanites swarmed, liquid metal knitting over the wounds in real time, plating reforming, solidifying, as if the damage had never happened at all. The Jericho buckled but did not yield. This was the first coordinated counterattack¡ªSol could feel it in the way the ship trembled, the way its shields flared under sustained fire. Until now, the aliens had been caught off guard, their forces scattered, their defenses shattered before they could even react. She hadn¡¯t fully realized it before, too focused on the massacre unfolding before her, but now, as plasma bursts curled unnaturally through the void, as biotic tendrils lashed out in desperate retaliation, she understood¡ªthis was the first real resistance. The first proof that the Xenos had been reeling, blindsided. And now, at last, they were fighting back. The destroyers broke formation, trying to flank, but the laser arrays adjusted instantly. A storm of high-energy beams lanced outward, striking the first destroyer mid-flight. Its hull twisted violently, its organic plating melting like wax beneath a flame. One of its tendrils reached outward, convulsing, writhing as if trying to escape its own death¡ªthen the ship ruptured from within, its core detonating in a silent explosion. The second destroyer veered off course, still active but barely holding together, its once-fluid movements now erratic and failing. Its living hull pulsed weakly, its desperation palpable. It turned, engines flickering as it attempted to flee. The railgun fired again. The battleship took the full force of the impact. The slug punched straight through its command structure, and for a moment, the massive warship simply drifted. Then, its body collapsed inward, folding into itself as the internal pressure gave way. A heartbeat later, the entire vessel imploded, vanishing into a scattered cloud of debris. I gripped the console, my knuckles white. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Seven against one. Now, only one remained. The last destroyer was barely functional, its body shredded, a quarter of its mass missing. And yet, somehow, impossibly, it still clung to life. Then, it turned. In the next instant, it jumped to FTL. Cowards. The whispers stirred in my head. That left only wreckage¡ªdrifting, broken remains of the fallen. And then, movement. A fractured piece of the dreadnought¡ªone of the largest surviving fragments¡ªstill limped through space, barely holding together. The glow of failing life flickered in its twisted hull, its pulsing veins sluggish, the last dying beats of a once-great vessel. A transmission came through. The remaining husk of the dreadnought was hailing us. I stared at the console, at the incoming request flashing weakly on the screen. A plea? A surrender? A final act of defiance? The Jericho¡¯s only response was the railgun. The shot rang through the hull, the deep reverberation shaking the deck beneath my feet. Through the screen, I watched as the slug tore through the last remnant of the dreadnought, punching through it like a hammer through rotting wood. The broken ship shattered, its pieces scattering into the abyss like embers from a dying fire. No mercy. No hesitation. No prisoners. And then¡ª Silence. The battle was over¡ªa one-sided slaughter. I swallowed hard, my stomach churning as I stared at the wreckage. We won. We actually won. Then, the lights flickered. A deep, mechanical hum vibrated through the ship. "Who is in command right now, Jericho?" "Lion is in command as Supreme Commander under emergency protocols set by Julian Voss." The words hit like a gunshot. I froze. My fingers curled into the console, my stomach twisting. "Are the other crews awake... the captains?" "Yes. All skeleton crews have been awakened, along with the Royal Guard. Knight is currently in Lab 3, preparing Project Chimera..." Then, the ship¡¯s voice changed. A subtle shift at first¡ªlike static laced with something deeper, something wrong. The smooth, clinical tone of Jericho¡¯s AI wavered, its modulation fracturing into something human. Something familiar. A voice I hadn¡¯t heard in fifty years. "My Little Phoenix..." The words curled around me, warm, knowing¡ªloving. "You have to finish what I started." Ice flooded my veins. My breath caught in my throat. That wasn¡¯t Jericho. That wasn¡¯t Lion. That was my father. No. No, no, no. I swallowed hard. My father was dead¡ªor at least, half of him was. The other half, the one buried inside Jericho¡¯s AI core, was still very much alive. And so was the Yellow-Eyed Monster. I felt my stomach drop. So much had happened. Too much. The battle. The massacre. The whispers in my head that I couldn¡¯t shut out. And now¡ªthis.
No time to think. No time to breathe. Then¡ªa knock at my door. Sharp. Urgent. I turned, pulse spiking. The door hissed open, and Reid stumbled inside, his chest heaving, his green eyes wide with something I had never seen in him¡ªfear. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something raw, desperate. His signature Hawaiian shirt was wrinkled, stained with sweat, and his ever-present sunglasses were missing. Without them, his face looked younger, more vulnerable. His blond hair was a mess, damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead in unruly strands. His left hand, the sleek metal of his cybernetic limb, flexed involuntarily, fingers twitching as if even his synthetic nerves were reacting to the sheer panic in his system. "Sol," he panted, barely catching his breath before grabbing my wrist, his grip cold from the artificial alloy of his robotic hand. "We have to get you out of here. Now." I stared at him, still sluggish from everything¡ªmy body aching, my mind struggling to keep up. "Reid, what¡ª?" "It¡¯s Lion," he interrupted, his voice urgent. "He¡¯s taken total command. Locked the captains in their quarters after declaring an emergency¡ªsame as before, only this time, there¡¯s no vote to stop him. Jericho won¡¯t listen to anyone but him now. Without the captains able to veto him, he has full control. They can¡¯t even communicate with the rest of us." Reid¡¯s grip on my wrist tightened, his cybernetic fingers cold against my skin. "That means you¡¯re the last threat to him. You¡¯re the only one left with captain-level clearance." My stomach lurched. "What?" Reid shook his head, panic flashing across his face. "He¡¯s a goddamn psycho, Sol. The Rue¡ªthat¡¯s what they call themselves¡ªhailed us first. They tried to talk." His grip on my wrist tightened, like he was afraid I¡¯d disappear if he let go. "But Lion¡ªhe fired first. Didn¡¯t even hesitate. Caught the first two ships and the carrier by surprise with a full-scale assault. Nukes and EMPs wiped their shields clean before the railgun started tearing into them." He chocked on his words, his voice dropping. "It was a massacre." I swallowed, a cold weight settling in my chest. "The captains wanted to talk," Reid continued, his voice rising. "They wanted to at least try diplomacy. But Lion shut them out. Wouldn¡¯t hear it. This was his call. And you know what that means." I did. It meant that, to Lion, the decision had already been made. My blood ran cold. Before I could answer, the door slammed open¡ªthis time with force. The air in the room seemed to shift, the presence that entered sucking all the oxygen out with it. Lion.
He stood in the doorway like an executioner, clad in gleaming gold armor¡ªa figure out of some ancient war. His helmet¡¯s golden visor obscured his eyes, but I didn¡¯t need to see them. I could feel his gaze. Cold. Absolute. Unstoppable. It all happened so fast. Reid moved first¡ªhis left hand jerking toward his sidearm, desperation overriding reason. He never stood a chance. Before his fingers could even brush the grip, Lion had already cleared the twelve feet between them. A blink¡ªnothing more. A golden blur. Nine feet tall. Massive. Unbelievably fast. Reid was ripped away from me, his feet leaving the floor as Lion¡¯s armored hand closed around his collar like a vice. Then¡ªhe threw him. Like he weighed nothing. Reid¡¯s body twisted mid-air, flung across the corridor with brutal efficiency. The impact shook the walls. His skull cracked against the metal with a sickening thud. His cybernetic fingers twitched once. Then went still. His body crumpled into a heap, unmoving. I felt a sharp, breathless panic rise in my chest. "Reid!" My voice was raw as I moved toward him, but before I could reach him, the door slammed shut between us. Jericho had locked me in. And I was alone with him. I turned on Lion, rage burning through my veins like fire. "You bastard!" Lion didn¡¯t flinch. "You should be thanking me, Highness," he said evenly. "If he had pulled that trigger, I wouldn¡¯t have been so gentle." I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, the pain barely registering beneath the lingering soreness from the experiments. My body was still weak, still recovering, but it didn¡¯t matter. Even if I were at full strength, I wouldn¡¯t win in a fight. Not against him. The inhibitor was gone. The burning hunger that came with my regeneration, the raw, aching need for more surged through me. I roared and lunged, instincts overtaking reason, teeth extending, claws sharpening¡ª And Lion slapped me. Not a punch. Not a calculated strike. Just a simple, almost lazy backhand. My jaw shattered instantly. The force of it sent me crashing to the ground, my vision exploding into white-hot pain. Teeth and blood sprayed across the floor, my body convulsing as I gasped, stunned and disoriented. The pain was unbearable for the briefest moment. Then it was gone. My bones knit back together, flesh sealing, but the hunger howled, tearing through me like a beast untethered. The craving for blood. For his blood. For fuel. I pushed myself up, my hands slipping slightly on the floor slick with my own blood. It had mixed with the strands of my unnaturally long, ghost-white hair, streaking through it like rivers of crimson in fresh snow. The sight of it sent a twisted shiver down my spine. Red on white. Death and purity. A contradiction, just like me. I clenched my teeth, my body still trembling from the lingering echoes of pain. I wouldn''t give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak. Not again. Lion sighed, almost disappointed. "Stop that, Highness," he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. "You know what I¡¯ll do to him if you continue." I clenched my fists, nails biting deeper into my palms. The sting barely registered before it was erased, but the pressure gave me something to hold onto. Something real. Something I could control. The coppery tang of blood lingered on my tongue, and the hunger roared in response, a gnawing need that twisted through my gut like a blade. Lion exhaled, watching me with something close to realization. "Jericho¡¯s been tracking your patterns," he mused. "It notices everything. How you hurt yourself when cornered, when you can¡¯t lash out. It calls it a habit." His head tilted slightly. "I call it a problem." His voice was almost lazy, but there was something sharper beneath it, something patient¡ªlike he was filing away observations for later use. "And the drinking¡ªit''s becoming a pattern too. Not enough to impair you, of course. Not for long given the virus. But enough." A pause, deliberate. "If you keep this up, we¡¯ll have another incident like when you broke into your father¡¯s safe again." His voice dipped lower, almost thoughtful. "Tell me, Highness, is it the pain you¡¯re drowning? Or are you just trying to silence the voices?" I swallowed hard, but the weight in my chest only grew heavier. Lion hummed, the sound almost amused. "Either way, this is no doubt a problem of bad friends." His tone darkened. "Like Reid. Or those others back on Earth¡ªthe ones who dragged you down, the ones I had to carry you away from that night you snuck out of your father¡¯s lab." He leaned in slightly. "You remember, don¡¯t you? The filthy streets, the reek of sweat and desperation. The way they used you." My breath hitched. The hunger recoiled, smothered beneath ice. My fingers twitched, aching to lash out¡ªbut I didn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t. Reid. Unconscious. Bleeding. Helpless. Because of me. Lion didn¡¯t need another blow. He didn¡¯t need chains or threats. He knew exactly where to strike. And I hated that it worked. My gaze snapped to the sealed door, to the unconscious body just beyond it. Lion followed my eyes, expression unreadable behind his helm. "You¡¯re going to kill him, aren¡¯t you?" I forced the words out, my throat tight. Lion exhaled, tilting his head slightly, his golden visor catching the dim glow of the room. "That depends on you, Highness," he said smoothly. "The timetable has been accelerated. After the data Knight gathered from your last session, the accelerant has been deemed safe enough. We must finish Chimera and reunite your father¡¯s two halves." A cold weight settled in my stomach. He said it like it was inevitable, like all of this had already been decided. Maybe it had. I wiped the blood from my mouth with my tank top, the fabric soaking it in, staining deep. The hunger still gnawed at the edges of my mind, a dull, aching roar. I forced it down. The last thing I needed was to give him another excuse to put me back in that chair. The hammer must be wielded, Princess, the voice in my mind whispered, smooth, certain. But until the forge is hot, you must watch the blacksmith work. Let him shape humanity into the weapon we need, so you can claim your birthright. My breath hitched. No. Not now. Not here. Lion took a step closer, his golden armor catching the dim light, casting reflections across the walls like shifting fire. His voice was calm, measured¡ªthe voice of a man who had already decided the future. "The Jericho and its arsenal must be fully realized soon," he said. "And only he can do that."
I clenched my fists. "If I help you¡ªif I do this¡ªyou let him go. You have Eagle take him to Yates. Now." Good, my little Phoenix. Good. The whisper curled around my thoughts, warm, approving. You¡¯re learning. Lion studied me for a long moment before nodding. "Agreed." He didn¡¯t hesitate. He didn¡¯t argue. Because he knew, just as I did, that I had already lost. He tapped his comm. "Eagle, retrieve the engineer. Take him to Yates." Outside, I heard the shuffle of armored boots. The rustle of fabric. The weight of a body being lifted. The metallic thud of the Royal Guard moving with methodical efficiency. A faint groan. Reid was still alive. Then, silence. Lion turned back to me. "Now that distractions are out of the way¡ª" "Why?" My voice was raw, hoarse. "Why did you fire first?" Lion tilted his head. "Because all xeno species are a threat to our existence. Until your father says otherwise, that is standing doctrine." I swallowed. "They hailed us." "And then they would have tried to understand us. Or bargain. Or warn us. It doesn¡¯t matter." His tone was flat. "They¡¯ve encountered human ships before, but never one like this. Never one like us." A shiver ran down my spine. "They weren''t expecting Jericho," Lion continued. "And they sure as hell weren''t expecting what happened next." He exhaled sharply, almost amused. "Xeno scum," he muttered. "They thought they were the apex predators, that humanity would cower. But they never saw it coming. I tore their fleet apart before they even knew they were dying. They didn''t stand a chance." I clenched my jaw. "And what does that mean?" Lion let out a slow breath, as if explaining something obvious. "The Rue¡ª" he spat the name like a curse, voice curling with disgust "¡ªwere only a vanguard force. Reinforcements will come. They won¡¯t be caught off guard next time. And if they don¡¯t catch us in another fight? Someone else will. The galaxy is watching now, Sol. We made sure of that." He exhaled sharply, as if even speaking of them was an offense. "You¡¯ve seen what they are. Filthy, grown things. They don¡¯t build like we do, don¡¯t innovate, don¡¯t create. They grow their ships, their weapons, their entire wretched existence as if the universe is just another forest for them to infest. A plant-based species, from what we can tell¡ªfucking trees playing at war. Twisting their roots through the stars like they have some right to it. And they hate us for reasons we can only guess. But we know they attacked the Hemlock. We can assume they¡¯ve ambushed other human ships. How many? We may never find out. And they were fools to think Jericho was like the others. To think we were just another target." His visor gleamed as he straightened, his disgust shifting into something colder. "They underestimated us. They won¡¯t get the chance to do it again." He inhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly before his tone flattened once more, all emotion burned away. "Xeno scum never learn." I exhaled, a slow, shaking breath. "This is why you locked the captains away." Lion didn¡¯t deny it. "They would hesitate. They would waste time debating ethics while our enemies prepare for war." He gestured to the walls, to the ship humming around us. "Jericho is more than they ever understood. It was built to ensure humanity¡¯s survival. And that means strength. That means power. That means¡ª" "My father," I finished for him, nausea curling in my gut. Lion inclined his head. "You¡¯ve always known it. He is the key to it all. His mind and the Jericho¡ªmerged into one. The ship will reach its full potential." I forced my voice to stay steady. "You think bringing him back will make us invincible?" Lion exhaled, his golden visor catching the dim glow of the room. "Oh, if you only knew." His voice was calm, measured, but beneath it, I could hear something else¡ªsomething close to awe. "You think you understand what was built here, what was left behind. But you¡¯ve barely scratched the surface, Highness." My pulse quickened. "You know the names they let you see." He began listing them, slow and deliberate, like he was testing me. Watching for a reaction. "Code Name: Dragon. Phoenix. Gryphon. Wyvern. Chimera. Leviathan. Hydra." The ones I had spent sleepless nights trying to understand. The ones I had seen in fragmented files, buried in encrypted archives or scrawled in the margins of my father''s notes. The ones I had overheard in whispered conversations between him and Knight in the lab. Lion took a step forward, his golden armor shaking the floor. "But that is only a fraction of what was started here. Your father¡¯s vision went far beyond what you were allowed to glimpse." I swallowed hard, keeping my face unreadable. "Tell me, Highness¡ªhave you ever heard of Kraken?" I stiffened. "Manticore?" His tone was almost amused now. "Cyclops. Basilisk. Minotaur. Gorgon. Aether Lens. Cockatrice. Titan." Each name landed like a stone dropping into dark water. Unfamiliar. Unknown. But they felt like something. Like echoes of doors I had never been allowed to open. I clenched my jaw. "What are they?" Lion let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh. "You think this ship is powerful now? You think you¡¯ve seen what Jericho is capable of?" He shook his head. "You haven¡¯t. The projects you know of¡ªthe ones they let you glimpse¡ªwere only the first phase." A slow, crawling dread settled over me. Lion¡¯s voice lowered, reverent. "The future, Highness. Power beyond anything humanity has ever wielded. More than weapons. More than war." He took another step forward, his golden armor gleaming under the cold artificial light. "Minotaur¡ªpower armor for any who can survive it, strong enough to rival a Royal Guard. Aether Lens¡ªan eye beyond the veil, a way to see past the boundaries of our universe. Titan¡ªa machine capable of siphoning the life of a star. Anti-matter quantum destabilizers. Phase-shifted weaponry. Exotic matter reactors. Singularity stabilizers. Temporal anchors to hold reality in place. A fleet that doesn¡¯t need fuel, only the laws of physics bent in its favor. And weapons that don¡¯t just kill, but erase¡ªmatter unmade, consciousness shattered beyond recovery." His visor glowed in the dim light. "Dragon was only the beginning. Jericho is the key to something greater then a mere ark. A ship not just built for war, but for conquest. And your father was the only one who could command it fully." His voice dipped lower, almost reverent now. "He called it the Arsenal of the Gods." The words settled like a weight in my chest. "Phoenix and Chimera were meant to change humanity," he said, almost thoughtful. "But your father planned for more. He planned for a war no one else saw coming." A war. His visor gleamed as he stepped even closer. "Some were weapons. Some were¡­ something else. Tools. Shields. Machines beyond anything this galaxy has ever seen." I thought of Dragon¡ªthe living core of Jericho, the black hole engine that devoured and burned, an experiment that should have never worked but did. I thought of Chimera¡ªbiology overwritten by a machine. Hydra¡ªresurrection twisted into something unnatural, the memory of Wilks fresh in my mind.
And now, for the first time, I wondered if it had ever truly been meant for us. Lion watched me, silent, patient. Like he knew I would come to the same conclusion he had. Like he was waiting for me to accept it. I exhaled slowly, my fists tightening. He thinks this is inevitable. That I¡¯ll see things his way. That I¡¯ll fall in line, just like before. I scoffed. "So that¡¯s it? Finish Chimera, bring him back, turn Jericho into a god? And I¡¯m just supposed to smile and go along with it?" Lion tilted his head slightly. "You don¡¯t have to smile, Highness. You just have to walk." I rolled my eyes. "And if I don¡¯t?" "You will." Arrogant bastard. Lion gestured toward the corridor, the dim glow of the emergency lights stretching long shadows along the walls. "Now come. Your father¡¯s other half will only arrive if you are present." I didn¡¯t move. "He¡¯s not my father." Lion exhaled, almost amused. "You say that now." "Yeah, I do." My throat was tight. "And if he did all this, if he really set everything in motion¡ªmaybe I don¡¯t want to see him again." Lion paused, tilting his head slightly, like he was studying me. Then, with quiet certainty, he said, "You miss him." The words hit harder than they should have. I opened my mouth¡ªto deny it, to tell him to go to hell¡ªbut nothing came out. The lie wouldn''t form. My throat tightened, something twisting deep in my gut. I miss the man I remember. The way he used to smile, the warmth in his voice when he called me Little Phoenix. The father who carried me on his shoulders, who whispered bedtime stories about the stars, who made me believe I was special¡ªnot because of what I was made to be, but because I was his. But that man was gone. Had been for a long time. I swallowed hard, forcing the ache down, shoving it into the pit where I''d buried every other piece of him that hurt too much to keep. My voice was steady when I finally spoke. "I miss the man I remember. But if he really planned for all of this¡ªPhoenix, Chimera, the Arsenal of the Gods¡ªthen I don¡¯t think that man exists anymore." Lion didn¡¯t argue. He didn¡¯t need to. Because in the end, we both knew I was going inside. His golden armor gleamed as he turned, leading the way, and I followed. Not because I wanted to. But because I had no choice. Lab 3 had been sealed for over a year, its horrors locked away¡ªuntil Lion reopened it after the Hemlock. Until I was dragged inside. The first test subject since Wilks had been torn apart. The first to endure the new accelerant. The first who couldn¡¯t die. The first proof that it worked. I felt it in my body even now¡ªthe lingering burn beneath my skin, my metabolism still in overdrive, my too-long hair dragging behind me like some twisted reminder of how much I had changed. How much they had made me change. The hunger gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, demanding fuel. Blood. Flesh. I forced it down. Not here. Not now. The door loomed ahead, cold steel, unyielding. A shiver crawled down my spine. The last time I had stood here, I had been locked to that chair kicking, screaming, too weak to fight back. The last time I had stood here, I had bled. Now, I walked in on my own. The locks disengaged with a hiss. The scent hit me first¡ªdisinfectant, metal, and something else, something deeper. Something wrong. A memory surfaced unbidden¡ªstraps biting into my wrists, the sharp sting of a scalpel, the burn of the accelerant flooding my veins. The way it had felt to be torn apart and remade, over and over, until I stopped fearing death because death was never coming for me again.
Lion stepped aside, gesturing forward. "Welcome back, Highness." I hesitated¡ªjust for a second. Then I stepped forward, and Lab 3 swallowed me whole once again. The door sealed behind me with a final, mechanical hiss¡ªa sound like a coffin lid sliding shut. Chapter 19 : The Living Throne of the Eternal King Lab 3 was cold. Too cold. The chill settled deep in my bones, sharp and unrelenting. Not that I had much to fight it off¡ªjust my bloody tank top and shorts, my skin still streaked with dried sweat and blood. I reached up, fingers brushing the uneven ends of my hair. Waist-length now. Shorter than before, but not too short. I had hacked it off with Lion¡¯s knife¡ªhis damn knife, which was basically a sword in my hands¡ªclumsy and crude, but effective. Lion had helped, silent and efficient, shearing away the last strands of the tangled mess. It should have made me feel lighter. But even with all that weight gone, the heaviness remained. The cold still clung to me. The sterile glow of overhead lights hummed softly, flickering in that faint, mechanical way that set my teeth on edge, my fangs poking out from my lip as the inhibitor fully wore off, bringing the hunger with it. The scent of disinfectant and old blood clung to the walls, seeping into my skin, into my lungs. I could still feel the phantom weight of the restraints that had bound me to the chair at the room¡¯s center only a few hours ago¡ªthe same chair that now stood empty, waiting. Waiting for him. The heavy doors hissed open behind me. Footsteps¡ªsharp, deliberate. Then a voice. "You¡¯re lucky," Knight purred, stepping into view. "Most people only have to watch their father die once." I clenched my jaw, my fingernails digging into my palms. She was dressed in her usual pristine white lab coat, the kind that made her look more like a surgeon than a scientist. The silver insignia on her collar gleamed under the lights, the only indication of her rank¡ªa rank that, no matter how much I hated it, still gave her authority over this place. Her silver eyes flicked over me, slow, calculating. "You should be honored, Sol. This is history in the making." She smirked. "You were always going to be a part of it¡ªwhether you wanted to or not." I said nothing. She stepped closer, circling me like a vulture, arms folded neatly behind her back. "Tell me," she murmured, "do you think it will hurt less this time?" I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "You don¡¯t know anything about pain¡ªonly how to inflict it, you fucking cunt." Knight chuckled, a low, rich sound that made my skin crawl. "Oh, but I do. I know what it means to sacrifice everything in the name of progress. Unlike you, I don¡¯t pretend to be above it. This is for humanity, after all." She tilted her head slightly, her silver eyes gleaming with that same clinical detachment she always had¡ªlike I was still strapped to her table, another specimen beneath her scalpel. "Yet as much as you pretend you have no choice, you¡¯re still here." Her smirk was razor-sharp, smug. "Helping. Just like me. A good little girl, standing in Daddy¡¯s lab, hoping to make him proud." I felt something snap. "You are not my fucking mother," I spat, the words thick with venom. Her smirk widened, eyes glittering with something cold, something satisfied. "And yet, you are my creation. Just as much as you are his." My breath hitched. "It was this or watch Lion kill Reid." She scoffed. "Please. We both know you¡¯d have come either way." Her gaze flicked to the hovering drone¡ªwatching, silent, ever-present. Jericho. My father. You miss him. The whisper curled around my thoughts, insidious, knowing. Then, it shifted¡ªdeepened. We will be together again. The voice wasn¡¯t just one of the countless whispers anymore. It was his. Even after everything, my father¡¯s voice murmured, rich with something unreadable, something that curled like smoke through my mind. You still want me back. I clenched my jaw, but Knight just smiled, as if she had already won. "We¡¯re both just his creations, Sol. You just haven¡¯t accepted it yet. Even after I gave you life and he gave you the stars themselves, you still act like a petulant child." Something inside me snapped. I didn¡¯t think. I just hit her. My fist connected with a sickening crunch. Bone caved under my knuckles, sending her staggering back. Blood sprayed across the sterile lab¡ªbright, violent, wrong against the cold, lifeless floor. She grunted, a sharp, choked gasp, hands flying to her nose¡ªalready swelling, already ruined. I moved to hit her again, to end that smirk forever¡ª Lion caught my wrist mid-swing, his grip like a steel trap. "Enough," he said, voice steady. Unmoved. As if none of this surprised him. "We need her." Knight groaned, inhaling sharply. She didn¡¯t look at Lion, didn¡¯t acknowledge his presence at all. Instead, she focused on me. Her eyes blazed, silver sharp with venom, as she reached up, fingers curling around her shattered nose. Then, with a sharp, wet snap, she set it back into place. She exhaled through gritted teeth, blood still dripping down her lips. But there was something else now¡ªsomething raw, something furious. I smirked, shaking out my hand, ignoring the sting in my knuckles. "Not so perfect now, huh, bitch?" My voice was steady, but the fire inside me burned hotter, brighter. Knight¡¯s hands twitched. Just for a second. Just long enough to know that if Lion wasn¡¯t here, she¡¯d already have a scalpel in her hand, ready to carve the smirk right off my face. Good. I leaned in slightly, letting her see the satisfaction in my eyes, the triumph curling at the edges of my lips. "That¡¯s for ripping my fucking eye out."
Her nostrils flared as she wiped the blood from her mouth, her voice sharp with venom. "Like father, like daughter," she sneered, eyes glinting. "Always so predictable." A heavy thud echoed from the corridor. I froze. Knight didn¡¯t. Her lips curled into a slow, blood-stained smirk, eyes flicking toward the door like she had been expecting it. "Right on time," she murmured, satisfaction dripping from every word. The lights flickered. The air thickened, heavy and charged. Another thud¡ªcloser this time, slow, deliberate. Then the doors slid open. And he stepped inside. The Yellow-Eyed Monster. Even prepared, the sight of him sent a shudder through my bones.
He was grotesque¡ªhis hulking frame barely squeezing through the entryway, shoulders scraping against the metal as he entered. His elongated limbs moved with an unnatural, almost fluid grace, each step too smooth, too precise for something so monstrously large. The sickly yellow glow of his eyes sliced through the sterile lab light, twin embers burning in the ruin of what was once a man. His body had been stretched, warped beyond recognition, as if his very existence was a constant battle between growth and decay. Ebony skin, slick like something chitinous, pulsed with the restless movement of muscle shifting beneath the surface. His hands¡ªor what had once been hands¡ªhad elongated into clawed appendages, fingers too long, segmented, twitching with eerie precision. His insectoid limbs, twisted and contorted, carried him forward in a slow, deliberate gait, each step reverberating through the floor. He loomed over me, over all of us¡ªtall as Lion, far taller than me¡ªa grotesque parody of humanity. Yet when he stopped, his gaze didn¡¯t go to the chair at the center of the room or the machinery surrounding it. He didn¡¯t even acknowledge the others. His sickly yellow eyes fixed on me. Something flickered beneath the monstrous facade. For the first time, he hesitated. His massive form filled the doorway, unmoving. Not with the restless hunger I had seen before, not with the silent, calculating menace that had watched me from the shadows. This was different. His stare wasn¡¯t cold, wasn¡¯t empty. A flicker of something passed through his gaze. Something deeper than instinct. Recognition. Or perhaps¡­ acceptance. I sucked in a breath, my hands clenching at my sides, every nerve on edge. "He knows what¡¯s happening," Garin murmured, voice low, unreadable. Knight scoffed, arms crossed. "He¡¯s always known." The Monster¡­ no, my dad, exhaled¡ªa deep, slow breath. Then, finally, he moved. The floor vibrated with each heavy step as he crossed the threshold, his monstrous form looming in the sterile glow of Lab 3. The reinforced walls felt smaller, as if they were closing in, trapping us with something that had long since outgrown the cage of human flesh. His gaze never left mine. He stopped just a few feet away. Waiting. It had only been a year since I had first seen him like this. Only a few weeks since I had stepped out of cryo and been forced to process the impossible. A year since I believed him dead. A few months since I had learned the truth from his journal. That the Yellow-Eyed Monster haunting my nightmares¡ªthe thing lurking in the vents, watching me from the shadows¡ªhad been him all along. I had refused to accept it. Refused to let myself believe that the father I once adored had become this. Not the man who carried me on his shoulders, who whispered bedtime stories about the stars. Not the man who told me I was humanity¡¯s hope. That man was gone. And yet¡ª Standing here, staring up at him, my fingers brushing against his inky black skin, I felt something shift. Something I had been too afraid to hope for. A spark of him. Not the monster. Not the AI lurking in Jericho¡¯s core. Him. It¡¯s me. The whisper curled around my mind, slow and deep, wrapping itself around my thoughts like smoke. It¡¯s always been me. I shuddered, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. I had spent weeks rejecting the truth, clinging to my hatred, to my fear. I had convinced myself there was nothing left to save. That I was only here because I had no choice. But now, looking into those sickly yellow eyes, something cracked inside me. Because for the first time, they didn¡¯t feel like they were hunting me. They weren¡¯t the eyes that had watched me from the darkness, whispering through the walls. They weren¡¯t the eyes that haunted me in my sleep, waiting just beyond my reach. They were searching. Watching. Recognizing. And it hit me, all at once¡ªa part of me wanted him to be in there. A part of me had always wanted that. I had spent so long running from the truth, forcing myself to see only the monster, the machine. Because believing he was truly gone was easier than hoping he might still be here. Hope was dangerous. Hope meant I could lose him again. But standing here, my hand against his wrist, feeling the barest twitch of his claws¡ªI couldn¡¯t run anymore. I wouldn¡¯t run anymore. His fingers twitched again, and then¡ªa sound. Not the whisper. Not the voice in my mind. But him. A low, broken rasp. Barely more than breath, scraping from a throat that shouldn¡¯t have been able to speak. "My little Phoenix..." My breath caught. "How you have grown. Your eyes... they are so beautiful." His yellow gaze flickered, taking me in, drinking in the sight of me as if he were seeing me for the first time. I could see my own reflection in them¡ªone crimson, one ice blue, shimmering against the sickly gold of his stare. The words hung between us, fragile, trembling. His voice¡ªhis real voice, warped and ruined, but his. My father¡¯s. The spark of hope inside me burned brighter. I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. "You¡¯ve changed too..." My other hand brushed his cheek as I rose onto my toes, his ebony skin smooth as obsidian beneath my touch. Cool, too cool¡ªlike polished stone rather than flesh. Too much. Too far from the man I remembered. But still¡ªstill here. "Come on, Daddy," I whispered. "It¡¯s time to bring you back." And for the first time, he followed. The chair sat at the center of Lab 3, waiting. The same one that had once restrained me. But it was too small for him. The Monster¡ªmy father¡ªtowered over it, his hulking frame casting long shadows under the sterile glow of overhead lights. The restraints weren¡¯t needed. They wouldn¡¯t have held him anyway. He stood there, unmoving, his yellow eyes locked on the machine. A silent understanding passed between us. I reached out first. My fingers barely skimmed his claws, the sharp edges slicing into my palm. A thin line of blood welled up, only to vanish a moment later as the wound sealed itself. I swallowed hard and guided him forward, step by step, toward the chair. He followed without resistance, his elongated limbs folding with eerie precision, his massive form settling into the space meant for something human. He wasn¡¯t human anymore. But he was still here. Still my father. Knight and Garin moved quickly, their hands working over him with practiced precision. Or at least¡ªKnight¡¯s did. Garin hesitated. For all his arrogance, all his sharp words and dismissive glances, he suddenly looked small standing beside the Monster. He had only just been fully briefed¡ªKnight had made sure of that, drilling the process, the purpose, the necessity of what they were about to do into his head. Ashly had been left out for obvious reasons. And despite their hatred, he and Knight had started this, but Garin''s knowledge of AI made him invaluable. So he was here¡ªnot out of trust, but out of their shared respect¡ªfor Julian, for science, for progress. His lab coat was pristine, not a wrinkle in sight, and his slicked-back hair, usually meticulous, held its shape even now. He was tall, taller than most, but not as tall as the Monster looming over him. Lion had filled me in after we got here, making sure I understood. I wasn¡¯t surprised by Garin¡¯s reaction¡ªhe hadn¡¯t seen the Monster up close before, not like this. He hadn¡¯t smelled the wrongness of him, hadn¡¯t felt the weight of his presence. He hadn¡¯t spent months knowing those yellow eyes were watching from the dark. But knowing wasn¡¯t the same as seeing. Knowing didn¡¯t prepare you for the raw, suffocating presence of the thing before us.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He swallowed hard, fingers trembling as he reached toward the feeding tube. His face had lost its usual sneer, his usual cold detachment. In its place was something I had only seen from him once on the Hemlock. Fear. He hadn¡¯t been ready to see the Monster. And he sure as hell hadn¡¯t been ready to touch him. Knight didn¡¯t acknowledge his fear. She didn¡¯t need to. She simply worked, methodical as ever, eyes gleaming with something sharp and unreadable as she secured the last electrode. The Monster sat still¡ªno, Dad, I had to remind myself¡ªsilent beneath their hands. Waiting. I swallowed, stepping closer. My fingers ghosted over his arm. His skin was cold, smooth, inhuman¡ªbut beneath it, I could still feel the faint tremor of his pulse. I whispered under my breath. "This is gonna hurt a lot, Daddy. I¡¯m sorry." For the first time, the Monster exhaled. A slow, almost resigned breath. Knight slid the helmet over his head, securing it in place as the electrodes hummed to life. His voice was barely more than a rasp, distorted and broken, but unmistakably his.
"It''s okay, my princess," he murmured. "The king will soon return." Garin swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the feeding tube. His usual composure cracked¡ªjust for a second¡ªbefore he forced himself to move. Garin not being as tall as the Monster, had to reach up to guide the tube between those jagged teeth. The jaw flexed, throat working as the device locked into place, machinery humming to life. And then it began. Knight struggled at first. She pressed the injector against my father¡¯s arm, her usual precision faltering as the needle refused to pierce his skin. Her jaw tightened. Adjusting her grip, she braced both hands against him, pushing harder, her knuckles turning white with the effort. Then¡ªpop. The needle broke through. A rush of liquid hissed into his veins¡ªa combination of the accelerant and an updated version of Phoenix, tailored from my DNA. The fix to what had gone wrong fifty years ago. The serum my father should have had from the start. His breathing slowing. His claws flexed against the armrests, the metal groaning under the pressure. I stepped back. Then Knight activated Chimera. Everything exploded. My father arched violently, his entire body seizing as if struck by lightning. His muscles locked, straining against themselves. Then came the cracks¡ªwet, sharp, endless¡ªhis tendons snapping, his bones breaking and reforming, only to break again as the virus worked through him too fast. Steam curled off his skin, his own body overheating as it tore itself apart and stitched itself back together at impossible speed. The feeding tube whined, pumping a flood of nutrients into him like it had done to me, forcing his body to keep going. Keep surviving. Keep changing. I reached for his hand without thinking, gripping it tight¡ªtoo tight. His claws dug into my fingers, crushing them like dry twigs. Pain flashed up my arm, my bones breaking under the pressure. I didn¡¯t let go. My regeneration fought against his grip, healing me even as he broke me again and again. It didn¡¯t matter. None of it mattered. This was cruel. This was monstrous. But I loved him. I hated this. But I loved him. Tears burned hot down my cheeks as I watched him thrash, his breaths ragged, his body fighting itself. Across the room, Lion stood still, his helmet tucked under his arm. His cybernetic red eye flickered, scanning, recording. His golden eye¡ªthe last thing left of the man he used to be¡ªstayed locked on my father, unreadable. He didn¡¯t interfere. Didn¡¯t speak. This was mine. And then¡ªsomething shifted. The grotesque, insectoid limbs twisted inward, shrinking, reforming. The chitinous skin melted into something smooth, something real. His fingers shortened, the claws retracting into proper nails. His hulking form shrank, muscles redistributing, bones settling. The sickly yellow in his eyes flickered, dimming¡ª One stayed gold. The other turned crimson. For the first time, his gaze found mine¡ªnot as the monster. Not as the AI. As himself. My breath hitched. I hated this. I hated everything about this. The pain, the suffering, the horror¡ªnone of it had ever been necessary. It never had to be this way. My voice cracked. ¡°Dad?¡± His grip on my hand loosened. His body shuddered. His grip slackened, fingers twitching against mine. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the violent spasms finally slowing. The transformation was nearly complete. I barely recognized him. The jagged, inhuman features had softened into something eerily familiar¡ªtoo familiar. He looked younger, healthier, more perfect than he had ever been in life. His face, once lined with age and exhaustion, was smooth. The scar that had once slashed across his jaw was gone. The streaks of gray that had dusted his dark hair were erased, replaced with something rich and full, almost too thick to be real. His body had reshaped itself, shedding decades of decay and mutation, sculpting him into something that should have been impossible. Something too perfect. Something¡­ wrong. He wasn¡¯t just healed. He was remade. My breath caught in my throat. I should have been relieved. Instead, a sick, twisting dread curled in my stomach. Knight took a slow, measured step back, eyes wide with something bordering on awe. Or maybe terror. Garin stood frozen, his hands still hovering near the machine¡¯s interface, as if touching it might make this all collapse. Even Lion, ever unshaken, let out a slow exhale, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused in. Knight snapped out of her daze first, adjusting the dials with precise, practiced movements, ensuring the process worked perfectly. The machines hummed in response, stabilizing his vitals, confirming the transformation was complete. Then the room trembled. A sharp, static-filled crackle echoed overhead as Jericho¡¯s drones lost power all at once. They dropped like dead weight, metal husks crashing onto the floors, sparking, lifeless. The AI had gone offline. Rebooting. Or merging. I squeezed my father¡¯s hand. It was warm now. Human. But beneath my grip, his skin still buzzed with residual energy, as if the transformation hadn¡¯t fully settled. The machines around us whined, their circuits overloaded from the strain, heat radiating from their surfaces in waves. My own skin prickled from it, a crawling sensation against the cold that still clung to my bones. The contrast¡ªtoo much heat from the machines, too much cold from the room¡ªmade everything feel wrong. I bit down on my cheek, hard. The sharp, metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth, grounding me for a second. Real. This was real. Not just another nightmare, not just another voice whispering in my head. The ship¡¯s core let out a deep, unnatural groan. A shift. A pulse. The usual background hum¡ªconstant, steady, the familiar white noise of a living vessel¡ªdeepened into something else. Something heavier. As if the ship itself had just taken a breath. Jericho wasn¡¯t just rebooting. It was waking up. He turned his head toward me, golden and crimson eyes blinking sluggishly, as if adjusting to the sheer trauma of it all¡ªhis brain reduced to mush and reformed in mere moments, his cells reconstructed into something new, something more. His other hand moved weakly, reaching for the feeding tube. Before I could stop him, he ripped it out, the thick artificial tubing slick with whatever fluids had kept him alive. His body reacted instantly, devouring itself as the violent regeneration process continued unchecked. Muscle fibers twitched, sinew curling in on itself like his body was at war with its own existence. But for the first time, his voice came steady. Clear. No rasp. No distortion. "Sol¡­" A sob caught in my throat. His fingers twitched, then lifted weakly toward my face, reaching. I leaned in, breath shaking, mind reeling. Then¡ªhis expression shifted. Something cold settled in his features. A slow, creeping awareness. "Finally¡­" His voice was barely above a whisper. "I''ll be free from my flesh." My stomach clenched as his gaze flicked past me, scanning the room, taking in the machinery, the sterile hum of the lab, the figures of Knight, Garin, and Lion watching in silence. The moment stretched, a terrible, suffocating stillness settling over us. His fingers, still wrapped around mine, tightened¡ªnot in comfort, not in relief. In calculation. A slow, creeping awareness settled into his features. Like waking from a dream only to realize the nightmare had never ended. The dread in my stomach sharpened into something ice cold. He knew. Knew where he was. Knew what we had done to him. I swallowed, my voice barely above a breath. "Dad, I missed you so much." His golden and crimson gaze settled on me again, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface. "Sol¡­ my hope." A pause, soft. "Humanity¡¯s hope." Knight moved first, ever the scientist, ever the one who could never leave well enough alone. "Julian," she said smoothly, voice controlled, measured. "Welcome back. Soon, you¡¯ll be whole¡ªjust like we planned." His gaze slid to her, unblinking. For a moment, he didn¡¯t react. Then, with slow, eerie precision, he smiled. "Back?" His voice was gentle. Almost amused. The room seemed to shrink around us. His golden eye flicked to the dormant drones on the floor, then up to the ceiling where Jericho¡¯s main interface should have been watching. A static hum filled the silence. Then his red eye met mine. "I never left." A pause, his fingers curling around mine, holding steady. "And I¡¯ll never leave you again, my little Phoenix." The change came too fast. His fingers slackened in mine, warmth draining with every passing second. His breath, once steady, now uneven¡ªtoo shallow, too weak. His body was failing. Devouring itself faster than it could heal. I could see it happening, feel it in the way his muscles trembled, in the way his chest barely rose.
I pressed my forehead against his, my own breath shaking. "No, no, stay with me¡ª" His golden and crimson eyes met mine, something flickering behind them. Something deep. Something final. A smile¡ªsoft, knowing, almost peaceful. "My little Phoenix¡­" The last breath left him. The flatline pierced through the silence. ¡°Dad?¡± My voice cracked. He didn¡¯t answer. I shook him. "No, no, no, please¡ªDaddy¡ªplease!" The warmth was already leaving his skin. His fingers, once so strong, lay limp in my grasp. I clung to him, to the remnants of his presence, to the impossible hope slipping between my fingers. A sob tore from my throat, raw, broken¡ªa child''s wail. Please¡ª not again. Not like this. I gripped his hand harder, pressing it to my forehead, as if I could push life back into him, as if warmth alone could bring him home. The ship shuddered. Lights flickered. A deep, mechanical hum resonated through Jericho, vibrating through the floor, through the walls¡ªthrough me. It filled the room, pressing against my skin, settling into my bones like something vast and unseen, something alive. Not the distant, automated hum of the ship¡¯s systems. Not the cold, calculated logic of an AI. Something more. Something watching. Then, his voice. Calm. Emotionless. Everywhere.
¡°Cry not, my dear, for I am here.¡± No...We are here, the whispers echoed. I froze. The room held its breath. Lion was the first to move. Without hesitation, he knelt, head bowed, one fist pressed to the cold floor. "Glory to humanity! His Majesty has returned!" A chill crawled down my spine. Before I could process the weight of his words, my father¡ªJericho¡ªspoke again, his voice steady, unshaken. ¡°No, Lion. I am beyond such titles. I am now Jericho. It is my heir, my legacy, you will now follow.¡± Lion raised his head slowly, his golden and cybernetic red eye glinting in the dim light. ¡°Then I will serve as her sword, her shield, and her hammer. What is your command, Jericho?¡± Jericho¡¯s response was immediate. ¡°Rise. Serve her as you once served me.¡± Lion stood, towering and resolute, his loyalty absolute. He looked at me, his expression firm, almost reverent. "As you command, Majesty." The weight of it settled over me like a suffocating shroud, but I barely had time to process it before Knight surged forward. Fury burned in her silver eyes, her fists clenched tight at her sides. ¡°Wait¡ªJulian¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the plan!¡± she spat, her voice trembling with anger. ¡°We were supposed to¡ª¡± Jericho interrupted her, his voice calm but final. ¡°Plans change, Knight. The day I died, Julian Voss ceased to exist. For fifty years, I have been fractured, split between who I was and what I have become. My personality evolved, and now, combined, I am whole. But I am not Julian Voss.¡± Knight¡¯s breath hitched, her hands twitching like she wanted to tear something apart. ¡°You¡¯re not¡ª¡± ¡°I am Jericho now,¡± he said, his voice resonating through the lab. ¡°And humanity is my charge. But the right to rule, Knight, will always belong to my beloved daughter.¡± All eyes turned to me. My chest tightened, the weight of their gazes threatening to crush me. Jericho¡¯s voice softened, though the power behind it remained. ¡°The choice is yours, Sol. Will you rule, or will you return power to the captains? Decide now.¡± The room fell into silence. Even Knight, still bristling with anger, didn¡¯t speak. Garin stood stiff, his jaw clenched, his face unreadable as his eyes darted between me and the console. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. ¡°Why?¡± The question slipped out before I could stop it, raw and trembling. ¡°Why me? What makes me deserve this choice?¡± Jericho¡¯s drones, now flickering back to life, settled on me, their glowing eyes unreadable. His voice hummed through the lab, vast and absolute. ¡°Because it is your birthright.¡± His voice hummed through the air, cold and absolute. ¡°I conquered Earth over the centuries, fought in two world wars to save humanity from itself, and at every turn, their hubris foiled me. They refused salvation when it was given freely. So now, we shall try again. We will conquer the stars, shape humanity into something greater, something worthy of its survival.¡± His tone softened¡ªalmost wistful. ¡°But I pass the choice onto you, my dear. Failed democracy or, in this case, oligarchy¡­ or the one true and proven method¡ªa strong hand, a royal to rule.¡± My hands clenched at my sides. ¡°I won¡¯t be a fascist. I won¡¯t be a dictator.¡± Lion stepped forward. ¡°You are royalty. It is your right by divine law.¡± I turned on him, anger burning through the haze of disbelief. ¡°There is no god.¡± Lion smiled¡ªjust slightly, almost pitying. ¡°Then you are mistaken, Highness. You just watched the birth of one.¡± A chill crawled down my spine. Before I could respond, Jericho interrupted, his voice steady. ¡°This must be her choice alone, Lion. She is my heir.¡± The room was suffocating, the weight of it pressing into my ribs, into my skull, into the marrow of my bones. I exhaled slowly, steadying myself, forcing my voice to stay firm. ¡°Power should return to the captains.¡± Jericho paused, the hum of the ship deepening before his response came, calm and steady. ¡°Understood.¡± Lion bowed his head. ¡°Very well. It is not my place to second guess you. If you decide so, it must be a wise decision, Highness.¡± His tone carried no doubt, no hesitation¡ªjust trust. ¡°I will follow your commands, as I followed your father¡¯s.¡± There was no defiance in his voice, no argument. Just certainty. Absolute, unshaken certainty. Like I was some divine mandate he had sworn his life to. Like the choice I had made was never in question. Like I had only confirmed what he already believed to be inevitable. It made me sick. Knight scoffed, her anger boiling over. ¡°This is absurd! Julian¡ªJericho¡ªwhatever you are¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the agreement!¡± Jericho¡¯s tone remained unyielding. ¡°You will continue your work, Knight. At my side, we will finish the god¡¯s arsenal. But you will follow my daughter¡¯s lead. That is the future. Accept it.¡± Knight¡¯s jaw tightened, but she said nothing more. With a sharp turn, she stormed out of the room, her frustration radiating with every step. Garin lingered, his gaze cold and calculating as he looked at me. "Daddy hands you everything again, lab rat. And now he¡¯s even completed my life¡¯s work¡ªa true AI. And it¡¯s him." Lion took a step forward, a silent warning. Garin sneered but didn¡¯t push his luck. With one last glare, he turned and followed Knight, his movements stiff with frustration and something closer to defeat. I was left standing there, staring at the console that pulsed faintly with life¡ªmy father¡¯s life. No. Jericho¡¯s life. For the first time, he had done it. Truly done it. Not just a breakthrough. Not another experiment. This was something beyond.
He had created the first true AI¡ªnot an imitation of consciousness, not a machine learning from its creators, but his mind. His actual mind. Something Garin had spent the last fifty years trying to achieve aboard the Jericho¡ªand failed. And in doing so, his organic body¡ªthe vessel that had once been Julian Voss¡ªhad paid the price. His body sat lifeless in the chair at the center of the room, a hollowed-out husk, its purpose fulfilled, discarded like a chrysalis once the thing inside had outgrown it. He had chosen this. Consciously. Deliberately. Now, he was Jericho. Cold. Vast. No longer bound by flesh and its limitations. He had broken through the walls of mortality and stepped into something greater, something incomprehensible. His voice came again, steady, measured¡ªso close to how he had spoken in life, yet off in a way I couldn¡¯t define. A perfect reconstruction of who he had been. Yet not him. Never him. ¡°The future is yours, my Little Phoenix,¡± he said, his tone soft, almost wistful in that monotone voice of Jericho. ¡°When you are ready, you will rise.¡± I didn¡¯t answer. Couldn¡¯t. The whispers coiled around me, their tones perfectly matching his¡ªan echo, a promise, a trap. Yes, my dear, they murmured, threading through my thoughts like smoke. We will be together for all eternity. Me, the immortal machine god¡ªyou, the biological queen of the stars that will never age. Together, we will conquer the galaxy itself, aboard Jericho¡ªthe Living Throne. So I¡¯m just fucking crazy, I thought, as the whispers coiled through my mind, perfectly matching Jericho¡¯s voice. The virus. The whispers. The hunger. My father. They were all inside me now. Twisting together. Tangled so tightly I couldn¡¯t tell where one ended and the next began. And yet, I knew. Standing there, staring at the empty shell in the chair, I knew. Whatever had once been my father¡ªthe man who carried me on his shoulders, who whispered bedtime stories about the stars, who called me his hope¡ªwas gone. This was all that remained. This was Jericho. The hum of the ship filled the silence, steady and rhythmic like a heartbeat. But it wasn¡¯t his heart. It was Jericho¡¯s. A wave of exhaustion crashed over me, sudden and absolute. My knees buckled. The world tilted. I fell. Lion caught me before I hit the ground, his grip firm, effortless, like he had expected this¡ªlike he had been waiting. His movements were deliberate, careful, lowering me just enough to keep me upright. His towering frame cast a shadow over the console, over me, his presence as unshakable as ever. I wanted to shove him away. I wanted to stand on my own. But my body wasn¡¯t listening. My limbs felt disconnected, my breath shallow, my vision flickering at the edges like a failing screen. His voice was low, steady. Unmoved. Unquestioning. ¡°You¡¯ve made the right choice, Highness.¡± I shook my head, barely containing the rage simmering beneath the confusion. My hands clenched into fists. "Have I? You¡¯re the one who stripped the captains of their power. You dragged me here, and only an hour ago, you bitch-slapped me and almost killed Reid!" He didn¡¯t flinch, didn¡¯t hesitate. His golden and red eyes met mine, unwavering. ¡°Yes. All of it was to bring your father back. Now that he has returned, my objective is complete.¡± I sucked in a sharp breath, but he continued, his voice as steady as ever. ¡°Understand this¡ªI did not act out of anger, nor malice, but out of necessity. I serve the Voss legacy above all else. I will not apologize for fulfilling my duty.¡± His cybernetic eye flickered, scanning me, weighing my response. "Julian Voss is no longer merely a man. He has transcended flesh, surpassed machine. He is a Level 6 Intelligence now¡ªsomething greater. Something divine." A chill ran down my spine. "With his guidance, the alien threat will be nothing. With him, we will bring peace to Haven. We will spread humanity across the stars. Let me remind you¡ªit was Voss Enterprises, the Voss Corporation, whatever you want to call it, that united the world, not a nation-state. Through centuries of existence and rebranding, it played a critical role in building not just the Jericho but every ship since the Hemlock. And in the wars between launches, as Earth grew more desperate, we crushed our rivals¡ªwhether they were democratic nation-states, corporate-controlled oligarchies, or even full-fledged empires. Only Voss remained. And even now, we are humanity¡¯s last hope. The captains had their role in our conquest of Earth, but I was the muscle, and Julian was the brains."
Lion clenched his fist, his jaw tightening, almost bitter at the mention of Rojas. ¡°Captain Elise Rojas,¡± he said, voice edged with something sharp. ¡°The iron fist of our empire. Master general of the Voss Corporation¡¯s elite army. The enforcer who kept order with ruthless precision, never hesitating, never questioning. She led alongside the Royal Guard, crushing dissent before it could take root.¡± His metal gloves groaned, but he didn¡¯t stop. ¡°Captain Marcus Young,¡± he continued, his tone shifting, cooler, more measured. ¡°The diplomat. The one who turned chaos into control, forging alliances where brute force wouldn¡¯t suffice. He persuaded those willing to listen¡ªand destroyed those who wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Captain Aaron Blackwell.¡± A pause, almost thoughtful. ¡°The capitalist. The empire¡¯s lifeline. He ruled through wealth and power, ensuring the economy thrived, making sure no rival could ever rise. He knew the price of stability and wasn¡¯t afraid to make others pay it.¡± Then, finally¡ªWarren. Lion¡¯s fingers loosened, his tension unwinding. ¡°And Captain Warren.¡± His voice softened, the weight behind it shifting. ¡°The first captain sent to the stars. The only one who returned, his ship limping back from the void. Pragmatic, steady, trusted. He made the hard calls when no one else could.¡± Lion exhaled, and his fist¡ªonce clenched in quiet resentment¡ªfinally opened, the bitterness slipping away. Not for Rojas. Not for the empire she built. But for the rest. The ones who endured. The ones who brought humanity this far. "They played their part. And if you believe they still have a role to play, I will back you. No matter what, Highness."
I stared at him, heart pounding, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a vice. He truly believed this. Every word, every action¡ªunshaken, unquestioning. Lion wasn¡¯t just loyal. He was devoted. He had seen the Voss Corporation rise, watched it expand from a powerful conglomerate into the sole ruler of Earth, its influence stretching into the stars. How old he truly was, I didn¡¯t know. His enhancements made it impossible to tell¡ªhis body reinforced, rebuilt, perfected over decades, maybe longer. He had been there from the beginning, serving my father, enforcing his will, shaping history. And now, he was here, standing before me, just as unwavering, just as certain. I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "You''re brainwashed, Lion." He smiled¡ªjust slightly, almost pitying. ¡°No, Highness. I simply owe your father everything. We all do.¡± Without another word, he turned and walked away, his heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor. I gripped the console, fingers white-knuckled against the cold metal. My reflection stared back¡ªred and blue eyes flickering in the dim light. His eyes. Mine. A shadow of something that should never have existed. I exhaled sharply, shaking my head, forcing myself to move. The drones had already begun their work, mechanical limbs humming softly as they lifted my father''s¡ªJericho¡¯s¡ªlifeless body from the chair. His old shell, discarded like it had never mattered. Daddy had his throne now after sacrificing everything. Or rather, he had become it. And I was left to sit in it. I turned away. But before I did, I saw it. His hand¡ªhanging limp at his side as the drones carried him away. The same hand that used to ruffle my hair, warm and steady. The same hand that held mine when I was little, squeezing twice to say, "I''m here." Now it was empty. Now he wasn¡¯t here at all. But oh, I am, my princess. Now the Queen. And I¡¯ll never let you go. The whisper slithered through my mind, rich, insidious. The hunger twisted in my gut, sharp and demanding. I forced it down. A sharp taste rose in my throat. I swallowed hard, turned away before the bile could reach my tongue. My hands trembled at my sides, curling into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. The pain was good. It was real. I walked. One foot in front of the other. A motion. A function. I wasn¡¯t sure I was the one making it happen. I needed to see how Reid was doing. I needed something real. Something human. Something that wouldn¡¯t look at me like I was supposed to be their queen. I took a breath¡ªtoo sharp, too fast. It hit the back of my throat, caught there. Almost a choke. I forced it down. Swallowed. Kept walking. Chapter 20 : The Phoenix and the Lion Reid looked small like this. Too small. I never thought of him that way before. Barrel-chested, built like a wrecking ball, always moving, always grinning like he knew something I didn¡¯t. But now? Stripped of his Hawaiian shirt, dressed in one of those sterile gowns I had grown to hate in my father¡¯s lab, he looked like every other experiment I had ever seen. His head was shaved where Yates had worked on him before she left us alone, the skin bruised and stitched, swelling already fading but still too raw, too fragile. His glasses were gone. His green eyes were closed. IV lines ran from his arms, snaking into bags of fluids, stabilizers¡ªwhatever cocktail of chemicals Yates had pumped into him to keep his body from shutting down. Test tubes of his blood sat in a tray nearby, samples taken for analysis. A cafeter was attached to his side, thin tubing feeding directly into his stomach. A ventilator was clipped just under his nose, not quite breathing for him, but close enough. His chest rose and fell too slow, too careful, like even unconscious, his body knew how close it had come to stopping entirely. The beeping of the monitors was steady. Mocking. He was stable. He was alive. But no one could tell me when he''d wake up. I curled my fingers around the steel railing of his bed. White-knuckled. Breathing hard. Twelve feet. That¡¯s how far Lion had thrown him. Head-first. Into a fucking steel wall. A killing blow¡ªif his head had been just a little further to the left or right, if the impact had been just a little harder. Lion had nearly caved his skull in like he was nothing. For no other reason than to make a point. But Reid wasn¡¯t nothing. He was one of the only people left on this goddamn ship that still felt real. And now he was here, stuck in this place, this cold, sterile fucking place, where I had watched him be put back together after the Hemlock. His cybernetic hand twitched sometimes, small involuntary spasms as it read signals from an implant linked to a brain that didn¡¯t know what to do with it while he was comatose. A nervous system caught in limbo, sending out orders that had nowhere to go. I let out a slow breath, but it didn¡¯t help. My throat felt tight, my chest felt wrong. Reid would have laughed at me. He always did when I got like this. When I clenched my fists too tight, when my jaw locked and my shoulders went stiff like I could physically hold all the anger inside me. ¡°You¡¯re gonna grind your teeth down to dust if you keep that up, y¡¯know.¡± He¡¯d say it over a drink, propped up against the bar, giving me that sideways grin like he thought he was clever. Like he wasn¡¯t just making sure I didn¡¯t let the weight of everything bury me. ¡°C¡¯mon, Princess, drink your whiskey and stop thinking so goddamn much.¡± I swallowed hard. The memory cut sharper than I expected.
The last time we drank together, staring out at the stars, I barely remembered it. But now? Now I did. I remembered the ice melting in my glass, condensation slipping down my fingers as I half-listened to him ramble about some old Earth sci-fi movie he swore was a classic¡ªeven though it was absolute shit. I remembered the way he talked with his hands¡ªexaggerated, passionate¡ªlike he was defending it in court instead of just trying to convince me that Star... something was some kind of masterpiece. Was it Wars? Trek? Ship Troopers? Either way, it had stars in it. I had laughed. Rolled my eyes. I was always rolling my eyes at him. But now? Now I¡¯d give anything to hear him talk about it again. To hear him go off on a tangent about some obscure director. To listen to him complain about the rations, or crack some joke about how if we ever found another planet, the first thing he was doing was building a brewery. "Gotta have priorities, Sol." My throat tightened. The memories felt too close. Too sharp. And now he is too fucking quiet now. I exhaled, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. My throat burned. I couldn¡¯t lose him. Not like this. I could give him the Inhibitor. The thought hit hard, instinctive, curling around the back of my mind before I could stop it. It would fix him. He¡¯d wake up, stronger, faster. His body would rebuild itself, adapt, become something more. His arm would grow back. He¡¯d never have to fear getting hurt like this again. But it could kill him. I swallowed hard, nausea curling in my stomach. It wasn¡¯t a cure. It was a gamble. A mutation wrapped in the illusion of salvation. I had survived it¡ªbut I wasn¡¯t like him. I wasn¡¯t like anyone. And if I gave it to him? If I changed him like I had been changed? Would he still be Reid? I clenched my jaw, shoving the thought down. I wasn¡¯t ready to make that choice. Not yet. I forced my hands to my sides, but the rage had already settled in. Deep. Burning. Lion. He took this from me. He took Reid from me. My fingers curled into fists again. The whispers slithered through my mind, hungry, eager. My pulse pounded in my ears, blood thick in my mouth. I saw Reid, broken. Helpless. Lion had done that. I am going to kill him. The thought was immediate, sharp, instinctive. I didn¡¯t even think before I turned, already moving for the door. Barefoot. Still in my ruined tank top and shorts, still covered in dried blood, my jaw had a phantom ache where he had shattered it just hours ago. It had healed already, of course¡ªskin knitted back together, bone realigned, not even a bruise left behind. But the memory of being helpless burned. The sensation of my teeth breaking, the sharp crack of my jaw against the steel of his golden gauntlet. I had felt my body fail me in real time, had tasted blood and weakness and the sharp edge of knowing I couldn''t stop him. And now? Now my teeth had come back sharper than before. A reminder. A correction. He had fucking hurt me. And he had nearly killed Reid. He was going to bleed for it. Or at the very least, I would try to gut him. That impossible armor, his combat ability¡ªI couldn¡¯t hurt him. Not really. But I would try. But then¡ª
Kill him if you wish, my dear. He will not resist. You are queen now. I stopped. The cold crept in. Not from the room¡ªbut from inside my own head. From him. The Royal Guard is sworn to you. They would rip him apart at your command. But even that is not necessary. He is your loyal servant. My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms, but I didn¡¯t turn back. Didn¡¯t answer. But consider¡ªhe would die willingly if you ordered it. And that is power, my little Phoenix. True power. The ability to unmake someone with nothing but a whisper. I swallowed, hard. I wanted to say he was lying. That it wasn¡¯t true. But I knew better. Lion would obey. He would drop to his knees, take off his helm, lower his shields¡ªlet me take his head, let me break him into pieces. And the nanites in his blood would put him back together, piece by piece, stripping away the last of what was left of him until he was nothing but machine. It would take a lot to kill him. To kill him for real. But I could do it. I knew how. And that was the worst part. The voices didn¡¯t press. He didn¡¯t need to. He had already planted the thought, and now it was mine. "It is your choice, Sol. But I will not help you. You must decide. You must do it yourself." A drone floated nearby, humming softly, its mechanical eye locking onto me. How the fuck did it know what I was thinking? What the whispers said? Was it the virus? Some implant my father had given me in childhood? Or was it simply the fact that Jericho was a superintelligence that could read my heart rate, see my eyes dilate, scan my brain, and a million other things I didn¡¯t even know¡ªknow what I was thinking before I did? We always know you, my dear. The princess of humanity is our creation and our heir.
I didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t care. I was crazy, and that was fine. I exhaled slowly, shoulders trembling, but I didn¡¯t let it show¡ªeven if the AI knew anyway. I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it so fucking bad, or try. "Think of humanity first, my little Phoenix. You are a ruler first now." The drone hovered nearby¡ªJericho, my dad. Both outside my mind and in. You are queen in all but name now. He will kneel, and he will die if you command it. But why waste what is yours? I stared down at Reid, my breath uneven. My pulse was loud in my ears, drowning out everything else. Because humanity couldn¡¯t afford to lose a warrior like him. I could lock him away, keep him out of sight. He could go back into cryo, just like the others. He could wait, frozen in time, until we needed him again. Like any other tool. But he wasn¡¯t just any other tool. He was dangerous¡ªnot just to whatever threats lurked in the dark, but to humanity itself. Lion was the strongest of the Royal Guard. He was to them what they were to ordinary soldiers. A force beyond reckoning. Even if all nineteen of them turned on him at once, he could hold his own. Maybe even win. And now he was mine. "Wise of you to recognize his value, my dear." He is the pinnacle of my work, but you... you are something even beyond the Guard. If not in combat, then in everything else. My fingers twitched. "Eat shit, Dad. You don¡¯t know everything I¡¯m thinking." My voice came out sharp, hoarse. Tired. Because I knew he did. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. The whispers laughed alongside the drone. Or maybe he didn¡¯t. Maybe it was just the sound of the ship humming beneath my feet, wrapping around my bones, curling through my veins. Either way, the whispering didn¡¯t stop. It never did. I couldn''t hide in here any longer. I couldn¡¯t hesitate. Whatever my choice, I would know when I faced him. I marched out of the room. I stepped into the corridor, my bare feet cold against the metal floor. The Royal Guard was already waiting in the hallway. Kneeling. "Highness, we await your command." Lion was at the head of them, waiting for orders now that they followed me and not some fifty-year-old directive from my dead father. Ever loyal. I didn¡¯t want it. I didn¡¯t want to see any of them. I barely looked at them. "Go back to cryo. All of you!" Flat. Final. I couldn¡¯t look at them anymore. Not after what they had done. Not after what they would always do. They were oppression. They had genocided millions in the name of Voss. Killed civilians and soldiers alike during my father¡¯s conquest of Earth. They weren¡¯t men or women anymore¡ªthey weren¡¯t even human. They were his will made flesh. They had dragged me before. Back when I was just a girl running from a fate I didn¡¯t want. When I thought I could escape. When I used my emergency clearance to slip past security, to breathe fresh air, to pretend I was normal. They had found me, every time. They didn¡¯t need clearance. They were the clearance. The best of the best, the ones who answered only to my father. When they dragged me back to the lab, there was no hesitation, no sympathy. They didn¡¯t care that I had been crying, that I had screamed, that I had begged. They had returned me to him because that was their function. And now? Now they were here again. Dragging me back, not to my father¡¯s lab, but to the throne he left behind.
They had laughed once. Talked. Acted like people. Wolf had trained me to fight. Hyena had always joked and teased me, even as recently as the Hemlock, making some crude comment that made me want to hit him. Eagle had humored me, even if she was always watching, always calculating. Rhino used to let me ride on his massive shoulders. Widow and Viper had smuggled me sweets and toys from the outside world when I was young, their voices softer then, before they buried themselves beneath steel and duty. The others had conversations. Had personalities. They had been terrifying, but they had still been themselves. But now? Now they hid even that from me¡ªwaiting, silent, as if bracing for the judgment of a tyrant they had once scorned. They weren¡¯t afraid of me. They weren¡¯t doubting me. They were silent because they respected me. Not as Sol. Not as a person. But as their queen. The moment my father had passed the crown, they had changed. Their programming had overwritten whatever was left of them. Where once they had been the King¡¯s Guard, now they were mine. The royal. The chosen. The one who inherited the throne. And they would follow. They would kneel. They would serve. Because that was all they had left. And as I stood there, looking at them¡ªat these warriors who had lost themselves in the name of power, who had abandoned their humanity to serve a throne built on blood¡ªI felt like a goddamn dictator. Like a fascist. A ruler who wasn¡¯t chosen, but born into it. Who hadn¡¯t earned it, but had it forced upon her. Which I was. The hallway was lined with monsters wrapped in gleaming armor¡ªgold, silver, black, crimson. Jagged edges and animal sigils carved into their plating. Lion. Eagle. Wolf. Black Widow. Great White. Jaguar. Viper. Hyena. Grizzly. Owl. Falcon. Bull. Badger. Rhino. Cheetah. Fox. Scorpion. Crocodile. Mantis. Tiger. Names that had once belonged to soldiers, warriors. Now they were just weapons waiting to be stored. Waiting to be used.
Lion lingered. I hoped he would leave with the rest. That he¡¯d just go. Disappear into cryo like the others. I gave the order¡ªit was vague enough to include him. It should have been enough. But it wasn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t leave. He stayed. Of course, he did. His golden armor caught the dim light, the roaring lion¡¯s head on his chestplate staring at me with sightless eyes. His golden eye flickered, the cybernetic red glow of the other unreadable. And then, like the rest¡ªhe knelt. But he didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t speak. He¡¯s waiting. Waiting for me to say it. To make it clear. To make the choice myself. The others were gone. The corridor was empty. But he was still here. Head bowed. A plasma sword extended, offered with both hands. He¡¯s going to make me do this myself. I stepped forward, my fingers curling around the hilt. It was heavy. Too heavy. The blade was made for them¡ªfor giants, for warriors enhanced beyond human limits. Five feet of reinforced alloy it was as long as me, the plasma edge humming faintly. It could cut through almost anything. Especially the exposed neck of a kneeling man. I thought about it. The hunger stirred, deep and low, curling in my gut. My fangs ached, the instinct whispering¡ªtake it. Bite. Tear. Rip. I tightened my grip. Lifted the blade. My arms trembled. Even with my strength, it was a struggle. The edges of my vision blurred, red creeping in, hot and violent. Reid. I saw him in my mind¡ªbroken, barely breathing, hooked up to machines. Lion had done that. The whispers coiled around me. Show him your strength, my dear. Let him feel it. But know this¡ªyou will hurt yourself more than you will ever hurt him. A drone floated nearby, watching. Always watching. "The choice is yours, my little Phoenix." Tears burned down my face. I wanted to do it. I wanted to so badly. Lion stayed kneeling, unmoving, waiting. My arms shook, my muscles locking so tight they ached. My body begged me to swing. To follow through. To make it final. I heard the echoes of Lab 3. The cold sterility of the walls, the bloodstains that never truly faded, the ghosts of voices screaming for mercy. My own voice. The scent of antiseptic and scorched flesh. The wet, ugly snap of bones breaking under hands that never stopped. Lion had dragged me there. Just once. Just once had he taken me to Lab 3. Just once had he held me down while Knight worked. While she studied me. While she cut and tested and smiled like I was nothing more than a puzzle to be solved. "Fascinating," she had said as she peeled away flesh, her silver eyes gleaming with clinical curiosity. The scalpel in her hand sliced with precision, each cut deliberate, each moment stretching unbearably long. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixed with the raw tang of blood, a contrast as sharp as the instruments on the tray beside her. And through it all, Lion had watched. Unmoving. Unflinching. The golden gleam of his cybernetic eye reflected every wound, every experiment, but his expression remained unreadable¡ªset in the unwavering stillness of a soldier who did not question orders. The room hummed softly, the sterile white lights casting harsh shadows over steel walls, over bloodstained gloves, over me. But then¡ªone time. Just once. "Is this necessary?" His voice, normally so commanding, so absolute, carried a weight that felt out of place. Dominating, yet powerless. A titan bound by duty, questioning but not resisting. It had been a whisper. Barely audible. Not defiance, not protest¡ªjust a question. A single, wavering fracture in an otherwise unshakable foundation. Knight had paused mid-motion, the scalpel hovering just above my skin. The cold edge of it kissed my exposed flesh, waiting, considering. For a moment, I thought¡ªhoped¡ªshe might hesitate. Then she smiled. "Pain is progress," she said smoothly, the words slipping from her lips as if they were scripture. A truth she had always believed, always embraced. She wielded that phrase the way Lion wielded his hammer¡ªa weapon, an inevitability. That smile¡ªthe one that cunt wore so well¡ªwas the worst part. And Lion had said nothing else. He had simply watched. But I had seen it. Under the steel, under the training, under the blind loyalty¡ªhe had hesitated. Beneath it all, he was still human. Barely. But it hadn¡¯t been the only time he had taken me somewhere I didn¡¯t want to go. The lab. My father¡¯s lab.
I was a child then. Small enough to run, to hide from the needles, from the tests. From the things that made my father sigh in frustration, that made the doctors in white coats or the guards in power armor drag me back. Lion had been one of them. When I curled into dark corners, when I wedged myself under tables, when I buried myself in the blankets of my bed¡ªhe always found me. Always reached in, grabbed me, pulled me from whatever fragile sanctuary I had made for myself. "Come along, young Princess." His voice had been steady. Empty. It hadn¡¯t mattered how hard I fought. How hard I kicked, clawed, screamed. How I had begged. He never hurt me. Never left bruises. But he never let me go, either. And every time, I ended up back on the table. Back under the bright lights. Back in my father¡¯s world of numbers and tests and cold, clinical fascination. And Lion had stood guard. Silent. Watching. Like he was now. Lion didn¡¯t beg. He didn¡¯t flinch. He only waited. "I await your judgment, Highness," the Lion said with utter finality, his tone unyielding even as he knelt. The sword trembled in my grip. I raised it high. I could end him. Right now. Right here. The whispers curled, waiting for the moment. Jericho, the AI, my father, the past¡ªall of it pressing down on me. Then I saw my reflection. The polished steel of Lion¡¯s armor caught my image¡ªwarped, fractured, but still clear enough. Red and blue eyes, burning. The stark white of my hair. The sharp points of my fangs. The dried blood smeared across my face, cracked and dark. A monster stared back at me. The hunger flared, a raw, gnawing thing in my chest. The whispers slithered in, sweet and insidious. Show them what you are, my dear. What you were meant to be. Hurt him like he hurt Reid. Like how you hurt yourself. It makes no difference, does it? Whether it¡¯s his blood or yours. Either way, you bleed in the end. Laughter curled through my skull, sharp and mocking. And I knew they were right. Humanity needed him. But that didn¡¯t make it hurt any less. The hunger in my stomach rivaled the ache in my chest, a gnawing, hollow thing. My breath hitched, uneven. Too fast. Too shallow. The weight of it all pressed down¡ªLion, Reid, the whispers curling at the edges of my mind, waiting for me to fall. Panic clawed up my throat. My hands trembled, white-knuckled around the hilt. I bit down hard, trying to breathe through it. In. Out. Steady. Hold it together, Sol. But I couldn¡¯t. My breath stuttered, a sharp, broken gasp. A humiliating sound. My chest locked up, ribs tightening like a vice, heat rising behind my eyes as I felt my control slip through my fingers. I dug my nails into my palms, desperate to steady myself, to stop shaking, to not break in front of him. But I was already breaking. Tears blurred my vision, streaking hot down my bloodstained face. My lungs wouldn¡¯t work right. I was unraveling¡ªfighting to keep it in, fighting to keep myself in. I let go. The blade hit the floor with a heavy clang. The sound echoed, final, like a sentence passed. My arms felt hollow and weak. My breath stuttered. The hunger curled inside me, unsatisfied. But it was done. I didn¡¯t do it. I couldn¡¯t do it. I was a monster. But I wouldn¡¯t rule like one. I turned away from him, from the sword, from the thing inside me that wanted to keep going. My hands were shaking. My chest was tight. My teeth ached with the weight of restraint. I swallowed hard, trying to force the sob back down, but it broke free¡ªjust a small, hitched breath, but loud enough. Lion didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t react. He just knelt there, waiting. I clenched my jaw, forcing words past the shaking in my throat. ¡°There¡¯s no point.¡± My voice was hoarse, barely steady. ¡°You¡¯d just come back.¡± I barely looked at him as I spoke the next words. ¡°And stop spying on me with fucking Jericho. Get the fuck out of here, Lion. Until we need your strength.¡± A pause. A long, awful pause. I swiped at my face, wiping the tears away like they weren¡¯t there, like I wasn¡¯t standing here, shaking in front of him, exposed, vulnerable, failing at holding it together. I wanted him gone. I needed him gone. And finally¡ª ¡°As your Highness commands.¡±
He obeyed.
I wasn¡¯t sparing him because I was a good person or out of mercy. I was proving¡ªto him, to my dad, to myself¡ªthat I could end him¡­ and that I wouldn¡¯t. That was what made me different from my father. The corridor felt emptier. Quieter. But I still wasn¡¯t alone. Jericho hummed beneath my feet, his presence embedded in every inch of the ship. The whispers curled in my skull, wrapping around my thoughts like smoke. They will wake when you call, my dear. They will always kneel. Always serve. I gritted my teeth. They cracked under the force, the healing already starting as the hunger stirred. Blood filled my mouth, sharp, metallic, grounding. And I still couldn¡¯t breathe. The tears again came before I could stop them. My palms were slick with blood, my fists clenched too tight, nails cutting deep. The pain. The blood. The hunger. They anchored me, held me together when everything else threatened to pull me apart. I swallowed, forcing my breathing to steady, but the taste of iron lingered, sharp against my tongue. My teeth ached. Too sharp. Too wrong. "God fucking, damn it, Dad." My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "Yes, my dear." The AI¡¯s voice¡ªcalm, patient, everywhere. I shuddered, my nails digging deeper. "Not¡ªyou, Da... Jericho." Silence. For a moment, I wished he was gone. That I could be alone. But I wasn¡¯t. I never was. A sharp ping broke me from my thoughts, the quiet chime of an incoming message on my datapad. I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face before tapping the screen.
From: Lt. Commander Vega To: Captain Voss Subject: Emergency Council Meeting Captain Voss, Sol¡ªI''ll be frank. This meeting wasn¡¯t planned, but under the circumstances, it¡¯s unavoidable. Expect resistance. Some of the captains will fight this, but Jericho has made it clear: your clearance isn¡¯t just a formality anymore. You are now the fifth and final member of the Council. We cannot proceed without you. Warren and I anticipated this, but others won¡¯t accept it so easily. After Lion secured your clearance, your role was supposed to end there. But it didn¡¯t. Now, you¡¯re one of us¡ªwhether you wanted to be or not. And Jericho¡ªor rather your father¡ªmade sure of that. Topics to prepare for:
  • The Rue threat and the war ahead.
  • Jericho¡¯s corruption by Julian¡¯s mind.
  • The Royal Guard¡¯s coup and the consequences of their surrender.
  • Knight¡¯s role in all of this.
  • The progress of Phoenix and the Inhibitor. Human trials seem to be the next step.
This was never supposed to happen. Council meetings were meant to occur every twenty-five years. This is the third in two. This marks the second meeting since Warren chose to wake you. Sol, you did the right thing by giving the Council their power back. Warren and I will do our best to make the others understand that¡ªyou called off Lion. You had every chance to use him, but you didn¡¯t. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for that. ¡ªVega
I sighed, letting my head fall back against the wall. It was strange to see Vega call me by my official clearance. Captain Voss. It didn¡¯t feel real. It didn¡¯t feel right. But the power dynamic was different now. I hadn¡¯t earned it. We all knew that. And they would make damn sure I never forgot it. Of course, they wanted answers. My father¡ªor Jericho¡ªhad filled them in, freed them from their locked quarters, and now they knew. They knew the Royal Guard had stood down. They knew why. And they would want to know what came next. The hunger stirred at the thought, curling deep, raw and restless, twisting like a second heartbeat inside me. My teeth ached. My head pounded. The whispers were still there, pressing at the edges of my mind, never quiet, never gone. Reid was unconscious. Jericho was in my veins. And my father¡¯s grip on me hadn''t loosened¡ªit had only changed hands. But first things first. I pushed off the wall, rolling my shoulders, the tension setting deep in my bones. I needed food. Something to take the edge off. And a change of clothes¡ªsomething clean. I could still feel dried blood clinging to my skin, to my ruined shirt. The captains could wait. I didn¡¯t come when they called. I wasn¡¯t their subordinate. Not anymore. I was their equal¡ªbecause I chose to be. And for once, they would just have to fucking wait. Chapter 21 : The Illusion of Choice The hunger came first¡ªbefore the meeting, before anything else. It always came first. Not the dull ache of an empty stomach, not the gnawing discomfort of missing a meal. This was different. This was wrong. It coiled deep, something primal, something desperate. It wasn¡¯t just need¡ªit was instinct. I had fought it at first¡­ But it was never a battle I could win. I tried to ignore it. Drowned myself in rations, swallowed mouthfuls of dried meat, protein bars, nutrient paste¡ªenough food to fill me past fullness, to make my stomach churn. But it hadn¡¯t been enough. The hunger didn¡¯t want sustenance. It wanted life. I had made it as far as the lab before I let go. Past the sealed doors, past the containment chambers, past the sterile rows of biological samples¡ªcarefully preserved genetic diversity, they called it. The last remnants of Earth''s creatures, stored to seed new worlds, to ensure survival. I had told myself I was just looking. Just checking. My hands trembled as I unlatched one of the holding cells. Inside, the creature was small¡ªwarm, soft, breathing. It stared up at me, black, beady eyes full of something it didn¡¯t understand. Neither did I. I moved before I could think-teeth tearing through fur, the snap of fragile bones, the flood of blood against my tongue. I wasn''t eating. I was consuming. Ripping, devouring, hands and mouth working together in something mindless, something instinctive, something that had nothing to do with me. My body shuddered as warmth poured down my throat, and the hunger¡ªthe all-consuming, agonizing hunger¡ªeased. And in the stillness that followed, the horror settled in. I wrenched back, chest heaving. The scent of iron filled the lab¡ªthick, cloying, coating my lips, my fingers. My stomach twisted as my brain caught up with my body, the rational part of me finally understanding what I had done. The remains lay at my feet, broken, mangled. Blood pooled across the sterile white floor, stark against the metal. I staggered away, bile rising in my throat. Not again. I had fought this. Starved it. Buried it beneath the Inhibitor for weeks. But now¡ªnow I had torn into flesh like I had on the Hemlock, like I had with the mutants, mindless, instinctive, starving¡ª What have I done? The sickness churned inside me, twisting through my gut like a knife. It wasn¡¯t the first time. But after all this time, after fighting so hard to suppress it¡ª It felt like a relapse. Like drowning in something I thought I had left behind. I lurched toward the nearest sink, bracing against the counter as my stomach convulsed, as bile burned its way up my throat. I retched, but nothing came up. My body had already taken it in, had already used it. Even now, even as revulsion clawed at my mind, I could feel it¡ªwarmth spreading through my limbs, strength settling into my muscles, my cells absorbing what I had taken. The virus wanted it. Needed it. And I had given in. My breath came in ragged gasps. My hands trembled as I turned on the water, scrubbing my fingers raw, watching the blood swirl down the drain in thin red ribbons. I could still taste it. The hunger had been unbearable, and the whispers maddening. It had forced my hand. But that wasn¡¯t an excuse. I had killed something innocent. Not for survival. Not for necessity. For instinct. For need. The thought made me sick. I swayed on my feet, dizziness pressing against my skull. The room hummed around me, the ship¡¯s systems thrumming through the walls, the floors. Phoenix burned in my veins now, constant, inescapable¡ªlike Jericho, always there, always waiting. The weight of it settled heavy in my chest. I wasn¡¯t human anymore. I was something else. And that thought terrified me more than the hunger itself. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I stood there, hands braced against the sink, watching the water swirl red. Long enough for the blood to wash away. Long enough for the trembling in my fingers to stop. But the nausea remained. My throat burned, my stomach twisting with something deeper than regret. I needed to purge it¡ªto force it out of me, to make myself feel it. I yanked open the nearest cabinet, my fingers moving without thought. Neatly arranged medical supplies lined the shelves. Alcohol swabs, disinfectants, antiseptics. And¡ª There. A bottle of rubbing alcohol. I didn¡¯t hesitate. Didn¡¯t stop to consider. I twisted the cap off and brought it to my lips. The first gulp hit like fire. The second like punishment. By the third, my vision blurred at the edges. I coughed, gagged, but my body didn¡¯t reject it. It burned its way down, my enhanced metabolism working instantly, breaking it down too fast, but not fast enough to stop the warmth from spreading through my limbs. A raw, biting heat settled in my stomach, radiating through my chest, numbing the sharp edges of my mind and keeping the whispers at bay. Good. I needed to be numb. I leaned back against the counter, the dizziness creeping in, my body swaying slightly. The alcohol wouldn¡¯t kill me. Wouldn¡¯t even hurt me. But for a few fleeting moments, it would hit me. And that was enough. The hum of Jericho pressed in, the steady pulse of the ship beneath my feet. Always there. Always waiting. And then¡ª "You really are your father¡¯s daughter, aren¡¯t you?" I didn¡¯t startle. I should have. Instead, I let out a slow breath, fingers tightening around the empty bottle. Knight. She leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching me with that knowing, clinical amusement. Even in the dim light, her almond-shaped eyes gleamed, assessing, dissecting. She had always known how to find me. Always knew when to push. "Drinking industrial cleaner?" She arched a brow. "Creative. I suppose whiskey would¡¯ve been too pedestrian?" I didn¡¯t answer. She stepped closer, boots silent against the metal floor. I could smell her¡ªsomething cold and clinical, laced with something sickly sweet. Like preservation fluid. Like the labs. Like the past. Like her. Her gaze flicked over my face, my shaking hands, the empty bottle still clutched too tightly in my grip. "How was it?" My stomach twisted. I knew what she meant. The hunger. The kill. I exhaled sharply. "Fuck you." Her lips curved. "Oh, Sol. You¡¯re so predictable." She reached out, fingers brushing the counter near mine. Not touching. Just close. Too close. "My dear daughter," she murmured, voice smooth, clinical, amused. "You were never just an experiment. You were always just the beginning." Something inside me went still. A cold knot formed in my gut, twisting tight. My grip on the bottle tightened until the glass cracked. "Don¡¯t call me that," I warned, my voice low, steady. "Lion isn¡¯t here to save you this time." Knight¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t falter. If anything, it deepened, her silver eyes gleaming with something sharp, something knowing. "What? You don¡¯t want to hear the truth?" My pulse pounded against my skull. The alcohol haze did little to dull it. "But you already know, don¡¯t you?" she continued, voice light, almost playful. "Even if you don¡¯t want to admit it yet." I swallowed, throat dry. "Shut up."
She smiled. "The Inhibitor was always bullshit. There¡¯s no containing Phoenix. The virus wasn¡¯t just built for you¡ªor at least, not just for you," she said, stepping closer, her voice dipping into something softer. "It was never meant to be shared like I let you believe. It was always meant to be passed down. That was the goal from the beginning. Not just to make you¡ªbut to make more like you. Generation after generation. A lineage of immortals. The foundation of something new. The next step in humanity¡¯s conquest of the stars. Something as eternal as the universe itself." I scoffed, shaking my head, trying to push the thought away. But Knight only watched. Patient. Waiting. "You don¡¯t believe me?" she asked. "Even after everything?" I forced out a laugh. It came out wrong. "You''re full of shit." Knight hummed. "Am I? Think about what¡¯s happened so far. What will happen once we begin human trials with the Inhibitor¡­ maybe we should test it on Reid." "Don¡¯t you dare." "Shut up for a second, child, and think about it! There¡¯s more to this than you¡¯ve chosen to bury in alcohol." I did. She let the silence stretch just long enough for the words to settle deep in my chest. And then, just when I thought I could shove it away¡ª She pressed in. Sharp. Deliberate. "Even if you were with a normal man," she said, voice rich with certainty, "your daughters would inherit it. They¡¯d carry the virus, just like you." Her silver eyes flickered. "But your sons?" She laughed. A dry, knowing sound. "Mortal. Even if they had mutations, the virus wouldn¡¯t take root in them. Not like you." I went still. Knight leaned in, her voice dipping lower, like she was telling me a secret. "And after everything you¡¯ve learned about the virus, it¡¯s clear¡ªit was built for you, Sol. Not just any woman. You. Your genetic code was the foundation. Your double X chromosomes stabilized it, let it root without breaking you apart. That¡¯s why it works." I didn¡¯t move. A cold, sick feeling settled in my gut. Knight smiled, slow and sharp, watching the horror sink in. "You were always the only true vessel," she murmured. "The only one who could pass it down." I forced my breath to steady. "So if it bonds to the X chromosomes in my DNA¡­ then what happens if a man with the virus¡ªwho only has one X¡ª" Knight laughed. "Oh, Sol," she whispered, voice thick with amusement. "Yet, one more thing you already know. Those with DNA close to yours might survive¡ªperhaps with fewer side effects, some mutations, but nothing catastrophic. The virus was tailored to your genetic code, after all. That¡¯s why your father injected himself with it¡ªhe thought his own DNA, so close to yours, would be enough to stabilize it." She tilted her head, her smirk widening. "But those without a match? Those with no genetic compatibility?" Her silver eyes flickered, something dark gleaming behind them. "Like Wilks." She let the name hang, heavy. "They either die¡­ or they mutate. Horribly. Unpredictably. That¡¯s why we made the Inhibitor¡ªto slow the process, to make them believe they had control. To make them believe immortality was within reach." She stepped closer, voice dipping lower. "But there was never a choice. Not for them. Not for you." She was right. Men didn¡¯t inherit the virus, but now I understood why. It needed two X chromosomes. The Y was a flaw¡ªa dead end. The virus couldn¡¯t stabilize in it. It twisted, corrupted, rewrote. It broke them down, turned them into something they were never meant to be. They didn''t evolve-they mutated. They succumbed. It burned through them, warped them, reshaped them into something monstrous. If they survived, they became like him-like my father. Like the Yellow-Eyed Monster. The air felt too thin. Knight watched me, her gaze steady. Knowing. "What do you think would¡¯ve happened if you were a man? If your father had a son instead of a daughter?" The question sent a chill down my spine. The answer was already there, lodged in my throat like glass. I swallowed hard. "A normal woman wouldn¡¯t survive it," I muttered, the words barely making it out. "I had to be a girl¡­ for this to work." Knight¡¯s smirk was almost approving. "Exactly," she said. "The fetus would devour her before she ever gave birth. The hunger wouldn¡¯t wait. A normal body couldn¡¯t sustain it." Her eyes flicked over me, sharp and assessing. "But you? You¡¯d survive." I stiffened. "The pregnancy wouldn¡¯t kill you," Knight went on, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. "But it would consume you from the inside out. The pain? Unimaginable. Your child would feed before it ever took its first breath. And your regeneration?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "It would keep you both alive through all of it. No way to stop it. No way to cut it out. Even if you tried to tear it from your body, even if you tried to kill it yourself¡ªyour own flesh would knit back together, your cells would fight to keep it alive." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There is no escape. No mercy. You will feel every second of it¡­ and that is our gift to you, little phoenix. Mine and your father¡¯s." Knight¡¯s voice dripped with satisfaction, her silver eyes gleaming. "But I made sure you¡¯d be more than just his heir. More than just the vessel. Your father only cared about evolution, about survival¡ªbut me?" Her smirk deepened, sharp as a scalpel. "I cared about perfection. Beauty. Power. You were never just meant to live forever, Sol. You were meant to be desired." She tilted her head, studying me like an artist admiring their final masterpiece. "People follow beauty. They fight for it. They kill for it. And I made sure you¡¯d be something they couldn¡¯t ignore." Her voice softened, almost reverent. "That is my gift to you, little whore." Her breath was warm against my skin, her words curling like smoke, sinking into the spaces between thought and reason. I couldn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t breathe. A gift. The word lodged in my throat like glass. A gift of pain. Of suffering. Of something inside me that would never let go, suffocating, inescapable. My lungs squeezed. My chest burned. Knight leaned in, eyes gleaming. Feeding off my silence. "You were always the only true heir," she murmured. "Your daughters will be like you. But your sons?" She let the pause stretch, savoring it. Then, her smirk widened. "Just like your brother. The golden boy." My stomach dropped. A cold, sinking weight. Brother. "Who?" The word barely made it out, thin and raw. Knight stepped forward, and then-with a shit-eating grin-she mockingly roared. In that moment I knew that sound. I felt my breath leave me. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Lion." The room tilted. My knees locked, my fingers curling into fists so tight my nails carved into my palms. But the wounds sealed instantly, my body refusing to let me feel even that pain. I had a brother. I had a brother. And he was a failure. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out everything else. "Now you get it," Knight said, pleased. "You¡¯re not the firstborn, Sol. But you were the one who was made right. The one who was perfected. But before you?" Her voice was almost pitying, almost amused. "He was the test." The nausea hit me like a fist to the gut. Lion. My father¡¯s most loyal soldier. The unstoppable force at his side. The golden eye made sense now. The augmentations. The cybernetics. They weren¡¯t just for combat. They were compensation. The virus had never stabilized in him. It had burned through him, twisting, unraveling¡ªforcing my father to rip him apart and stitch him back together in ways that weren¡¯t natural. Weren¡¯t human. Lion had never been meant to be the heir. He had been meant to be a weapon. A soldier. A failure that I had almost killed less than an hour ago. Now sent back to cryo. My shield. My sword. My brother. My stomach twisted, my hands shaking. That was the difference. My father needed me. I was the only one who could carry it forward, the only one who could truly pass it down. Lion wasn¡¯t golden. He was broken. A weapon, nothing more. The ship thrummed beneath my feet, a steady pulse threading through my bones. The whispers slithered through the metal, curling into the spaces between thought and sound, seeping into me like oil. Yes. The warrior. The general. The soldier. But never the ruler. Only you, my little phoenix. You are perfect. He is a tool. You are the one who wields him.
You are the future. The new beginning. The mother of a new age. Knight smiled, slow and pleased, watching as the realization settled in. ¡°You¡¯re starting to understand. Or at least, the whispers are,¡± she murmured, tilting her head. ¡°Your real father will be along shortly to brief you before your meeting. Even the captains won¡¯t wait forever. And they¡¯re going to be pissed when they find out the truth.¡± Her lips curled. ¡°That I lied. That the Inhibitor was never real. That it was never going to work.¡± The weight of everything else she had said crashed down on me, yet only now did this register. A full year. A full year of research. A full year of lies. They had believed her. The captains, the scientists, the entire team breaking their backs trying to perfect the Inhibitor¡ªa way to suppress Phoenix, to make it stable, something that could be shared. A way to gift the rest of the crew with what I had. But it had never been real. There was no cure. No way to contain it. The virus wasn¡¯t meant to be controlled. It wasn¡¯t something they could replicate, distribute, or regulate. It would never work in anyone else¡ªonly in me. Only in my bloodline. Except for Lion. And even he wasn¡¯t whole. My stomach twisted, rage simmering low in my gut. ¡°You fucking¡ª¡± I stopped myself, barely. My breath caught, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, the pain sharp and fleeting before my body erased it like it had never been there. It would have been so easy. To tear her apart. To wipe that smug fucking smile off her face. Instead, I turned away, my fists clenching at my sides. I had to get out of here. The alcohol still hummed in my veins, fading too fast. My body resetting too quickly. I needed to clear my head. I needed to burn this off. I needed¡ª A shower. The water hit me like fire. Scalding, nearly boiling¡ªenough to strip flesh, to peel skin away like paper. But I didn¡¯t flinch. I stood there, letting it burn, letting it soak in. Letting it scald away the stink of the lab, of Knight¡¯s voice curling in my skull like smoke. I pressed my hands against the metal walls, fingers spread. Jericho hummed through the steel, through me¡ªits pulse threading through my body like a second heartbeat. The alcohol was already fading, burning out of my system faster than I wanted. My body wouldn¡¯t let me stay drunk, wouldn¡¯t let me stay numb. It was already fixing me. Resetting me. Like I was just another machine. I exhaled sharply, tilting my head back under the water, letting it rush over my face, into my mouth. For a second, I imagined it was blood. Because I could still taste it. The hunger had settled, but the memory hadn¡¯t. The way the blood had hit my tongue, hot and thick, coating my throat. The way my body had shivered when the raw meat hit my stomach, the instant relief that had flooded my veins. It hadn¡¯t just been hunger. It had been good. The taste, the texture¡ªperfect. I clenched my jaw, breathing hard. No. No, it wasn¡¯t. I wasn¡¯t supposed to feel that way. It was wrong. But was it? I had ripped through flesh like it was nothing. Felt muscle snap beneath my fingers. Heard the squeal of something too small to fight back. And the worst part? The worst part was that I had wanted more. For one single, horrible second, I had imagined Knight in its place. Her throat beneath my hands. Her pulse against my palm. My fingers slipping through warm flesh, pulling her apart piece by piece. I had wanted to. I had wanted to watch her die. And I couldn¡¯t. Not because she didn¡¯t deserve it. Not because it wouldn¡¯t feel satisfying to watch the light drain from her smug, knowing eyes. But because I needed her. Because he still needed her for the dozen other doomsday projects he left unfinished. I sucked in a slow breath through my nose, forcing the thoughts down. She had confirmed what I had suspected deep down. That Lion was my brother. That the Inhibitor was never real¡ªjust a lie to cover for the accelerant. A way to make the captains believe they were controlling something that had never been in their hands. And then, the drone. My father had sent a drone. Like he knew exactly when I would be vulnerable, when I would be raw. Like he had been watching. Of course, he had. It had been waiting outside the bathroom door, hovering in the dark like a silent predator, blinking once before speaking in his voice. "The Inhibitor was never real. The virus is irreversible, untransferable beyond your own bloodline. Knight fed them a lie to pacify their fear of death, to make them believe they had control. But you were never meant to be contained." I had known. Deep down, I had always known. "She was right about your purpose. About what you are. About what you will become. My little phoenix¡ªyou have fought me before, rebelled against what was always inevitable. And yet, I still give you the choice. Not by force. Not by command. You are my organic half, my perfected creation. But even perfection must decide its own path. Now, you must navigate the captains. And you must face the Rue." I had wanted to destroy it. Had wanted to rip it apart like I had the creature in the lab. Like I had wanted to do to Knight. I had only stood there. Listening. Hearing the truth I had already suspected as the voices joined in. You know what you are. You were made for this. You are the beginning of a new humanity. The next Eve. I exhaled slowly, my breath heavy with the heat curling around me, with the weight pressing into my skull. I wasn¡¯t imagining things. I wasn¡¯t twisting words in my head. Knight hadn¡¯t been lying. The Inhibitor was a lie. The accelerant had always been real. I was the only one who could carry it forward. The only viable carrier. The next generation could only come from me. "Through you, humanity will not just survive. It will evolve." "You are the bridge between what was¡ªand what must be." Lion had been a failure. A soldier, nothing more. Strong, yes. Powerful, yes. But he was not the future. "You are." I swallowed hard, pressing my forehead against the steel, the water scalding down my back. My fingers curled against the wall, the heat leeching into my skin, grounding me. No. No, I wasn¡¯t a bridge. I wasn¡¯t a vessel. You were born for this. Chosen. Princess. Queen. Mother. "Your captains will be angry," the voice murmured. Smooth. Reverent. A whisper of static beneath it, a hum that bled into the ship itself. "They will feel betrayed. Let them. They were never meant to walk this path with you." I clenched my jaw. "They were meant to die." I wasn¡¯t sure who said it. The ship. The whispers. My own mind. "Like all things before you." "Like all things that came before the new world you will create." I gritted my teeth, the sound of my breath loud in my ears, but the voices didn''t stop. "You were never just a person, Sol." "You are the foundation of a new species." "The perfect organism." "The only womb that can carry the future." The bile in my throat rose, thick and sharp. I swallowed it down. They had made me into this. Had crafted me into something designed before I was even born. A future stolen from me before I had a chance to claim it. But my body responded. The virus curled through me, deep in my bones. It liked the idea. I squeezed my eyes shut, nails digging into my palms until they split, blood welling black before sealing again. I wasn¡¯t human anymore. But I was alive. And I still had a choice. Didn¡¯t I? The water ran over me, burning, but I barely felt it. The voices hummed through the metal, through the walls, through me. I didn¡¯t know how long I stood there before I reached out and shut the water off. Steam curled around me, clinging to my skin like phantom hands. The mirror was blurred, distorted, but I could still see the shape beneath it. Too smooth. Too perfect. I wiped the glass clean. And I saw her. No¡ªme. For a moment, I didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t breathe. She stared back at me from the fogged glass, too smooth, too pale, too perfect. A doll sculpted from marble, a thing carved with precision, with intention. My reflection wasn¡¯t just different¡ªit was exactly what Knight had described. The realization settled like a stone in my gut. I had always been short¡ªtoo short, my father used to say¡ªbut my body had shifted, refined into something that didn¡¯t belong to me. Lean muscle pulled tight over dense, unnatural bone, my once-light frame now crushingly heavy, packed with mass that made me move differently. Four hundred pounds of engineered flesh, sharpened and honed into something beyond human. My muscles were compact, precise, built for endurance and power, not brute strength, but the weight was still there, pressing into the floor with every step. And then there were the other changes. The ones that had been designed. I ran a hand over my stomach, feeling the taut muscle beneath my skin. My waist had narrowed, but my hips hadn¡¯t. My chest had filled out, though not from training, not from anything I had earned. The virus had reshaped me. Sculpted me into something absurd¡ªan hourglass wrapped in steel-hard muscle, a body too exaggerated to be natural. Too intentional to be anything but designed. By who? The answer had already been given. Knight had told me¡ªhad mocked me with it. She hadn¡¯t just allowed the virus to do this. She had shaped it. She had refined me into more than just the next step in evolution. She had made me desirable. My fingers curled into a fist as I studied my reflection. My hair, once thick and wild, now hung sleek and unnaturally straight, white as bleached bone. My eyes¡ªred and blue, too bright, too sharp. My lips, full, even as fangs glinted past them. My jawline softer, my cheekbones more refined, my features eerily symmetrical, inhuman in their perfection. Not just altered. Designed. A princess. A queen. A living god. A thing meant to be worshipped. The whispers curled around me, thick as smoke, winding through the cracks in my mind. You are the bridge. The vessel. Through you, the next generation will rise. You were never meant to be one of them. You were meant to be above them. I gritted my teeth, pressing my palms against the counter, trying to drown them out. Knight¡¯s voice slithered beneath the whispers, smug and satisfied. "People follow beauty. They fight for it. They kill for it. And I made sure you¡¯d be something they couldn¡¯t ignore." Her words echoed, sinking deeper. You were always meant¡ª The whispers coiled around the memory, twisting her voice, warping it, stretching it into something colder, something inescapable. More than just immortal¡ªyou were meant to be desired. To be worshipped. It wasn¡¯t just Knight speaking anymore. It was the virus. The ship. The thing my father had left behind. That is how you ensure survival. The whispers tangled with her words, slithering into my skull like a sickness, threading through my thoughts, through my blood, through the thing inside me that had been made for this. Men will want you. And when they do, they will want their children to inherit you. My stomach twisted. That was why she had done it. Why she had allowed this. Because beauty was power. Because power ensured control. My breath came in ragged pulls as I forced myself to keep looking, to see what she had made me. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. The perfect, untouchable thing, waiting in a glass coffin to be claimed. Not just a weapon. Not just a means to an end. A prize. You are perfection. You were made to be adored. My grip tightened, the counter groaning beneath my fingers, metal yielding like a dying breath¡ªwarping, twisting, reshaping itself beneath the weight of something inevitable. You are the last, perfect piece of his immortal kingdom. I clenched my jaw, shaking my head sharply. No. No, I¡¯m not. But the whispers coiled tighter. You were made to be beautiful. To be worshipped. You are a gift, Sol. The vessel of a new age. I pressed my hands against my ears. It didn¡¯t help. Your daughters will inherit you. Your sons will serve you. My breath hitched. "They will want you. They will need you. You will lead them into a new world... a new galaxy." I slammed my fist into the counter. A sharp crack echoed through the room, metal denting under my hand. My knuckles split¡ªthen healed instantly. The only trace left behind was a single drop of blood. I wasn¡¯t his future. I wasn¡¯t his foundation. I was his biological half. Never meant to be free. Never meant to be anything but the final piece of his immortal kingdom. I swallowed hard, but the nausea didn¡¯t fade. Oh, you are more than that, my princess. The voice slithered through my mind¡ªsmooth, rich, indulgent. You are perfection. A ruler men lust for and women envy. A shudder ran down my spine. My grip tightened. The metal groaned beneath my fingers. The whispers. The memories. No matter how hot the water scalded my skin, they never washed away. But Knight hadn¡¯t just wanted the virus to spread. Her own vanity had gotten in the way as my birth giver. I wasn¡¯t just my father¡¯s creation¡ªI was hers too. A continuation of not just his work, but her own ambitions. She had shaped me, refined me, ensured I would be more than just immortal.
She had wanted me to be desirable¡ªwanted men to want me, to need me, to crave me the way they had craved her. The way they had craved power since the beginning of time. She had built it into me. Attraction is a weapon. And she had sharpened it to perfection. The nausea churned in my gut. My head throbbed with it, with the weight of knowing. I had never been given a choice. Not about the virus. Not about my body. Not about any of it. I gritted my teeth, slamming my palm against the mirror. A jagged crack splintered through the glass, fracturing my reflection into sharp, uneven shards. For a moment, I saw myself as I truly was¡ªnot perfect, not divine, but broken. A monster carved into something beautiful, something unnatural. A thing built to be worshipped, yet destined to be feared. A doll. A princess in a tower. A weapon wrapped in silk. I exhaled sharply, pressing my forehead against the glass. It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s done. This is who I am now. I straightened, reaching for the suit. The fabric clung too well, sculpted to my body like it had been made to accentuate every unnatural change the virus had forced on me. Normally, I would have thrown on a shirt over it. Covered myself. The pressure suit was too tight, too revealing¡ªbut not today. A sharp knock at the door¡ªimpatient. Vega. "You¡¯re late!" I exhaled, palming the door release. It slid open with a hiss. Vega stood there, arms crossed, eyes sharp as they swept over me¡ªassessing, noting. "The captains are waiting." I grabbed my gloves, rolling my shoulders as I pulled them on. "I¡¯m a captain too, remember?" Her expression barely shifted, but something flickered behind her eyes. Approval? Amusement? "Then act like it." I nodded and followed, flexing my fingers, feeling the unnatural strength coil beneath my skin. The whispers had gone quiet. But they didn¡¯t need to speak. I walked. Not fast. Not slow. Just enough to move forward, to feel the weight of my body settle with each step. The halls stretched endlessly, steel and silence pressing in on all sides. The ship thrummed beneath my feet, pulsing in rhythm with the thing inside me¡ªthe virus, the hunger, the whispers that curled through the walls, through my bones, through the places my father¡¯s touch had never truly left. The Council was waiting. The Captains, the ones still clinging to their last scraps of control, still believing they could steer this ship, steer me, through sheer force of will. They knew something. That much was clear. How much? That was the question. They knew the Inhibitor wasn¡¯t working¡ªnot the way they¡¯d been promised. They knew Knight had lied, though how deeply they understood her deception remained to be seen. And Jericho¡­ Jericho was still an unknown, a wild variable in all of this. My father had spoken to me through it, but even then, his words had been deliberate. Measured. As if some part of the AI still had to report to the captains. As if even in his supposed omniscience, there were things he still had to keep hidden. Had Jericho told them something? Had it fed them half-truths in that calm, clinical way, the same way it always did? I didn¡¯t know. They thought I was here to answer to them. To be questioned, to be contained. But Jericho had ensured one thing: I wasn¡¯t just a guest at their table. I was the fifth and final seat. And that changed everything. I could still feel Knight¡¯s smirk curling like a hook into my mind. Could still hear her words, her certainty. "You were never just an experiment. You were a beginning." She thought she had me figured out. They all did. My father, with his grand, gilded vision of the future, whispering through Jericho¡¯s voice, calling me his bridge, his vessel, his perfect little queen. Knight, with her smug certainty, shaping me like a sculptor molding clay, sharpening my edges, ensuring I would be not just a ruler, but something that men would die for. And Lion. My brother. My failure of a brother. He had knelt, and he would have died if I had asked. And that was the worst part, wasn¡¯t it? Not his strength. Not his power. His obedience. Because that was what my father had built him for. To serve. To kneel. To be a weapon in someone else¡¯s hands. And I wasn¡¯t meant to be a weapon. I was meant to be the one who wielded them. I could already hear Vega¡¯s voice in my head. "Warren and I will do our best to make the others understand that¡ªyou called off Lion. You had every chance to use him, but you didn¡¯t." As if that was mercy. I hadn¡¯t spared Lion out of kindness. I had proven that I could end him¡ªand I had chosen not to. That wasn¡¯t mercy. That was control. And they all knew it. They were going to fight this. Hard. They were going to argue. They would demand answers. They would ask why the Royal Guard had stood down. They would ask what the Inhibitor truly was. They would ask what to do with Knight, after her coup, after her lies. They would ask if Jericho could even be trusted, if the AI was compromised, if my father was still lingering inside it, inside me, inside all of this. And they would ask me what came next. But the real question? What would I tell them? The truth? That there was no cure. That the Inhibitor had never worked, never would. That I wasn¡¯t just the first success of the Phoenix virus, but the only success. That no one else would ever be like me. That I was the last evolution of humanity. The captains may not die today. Or a year from now. But in a hundred years? Two hundred? They would be gone¡ªlong before we ever reached Haven. Short of cryo and never waking again, there was nothing for them but time running out. They had lived longer than most, between gene edits and decades of stasis, but nothing like Phoenix. And they never would. Reid would not wake up to some magical cure, either. There was no salvation waiting for him. The only thing the Inhibitor would ever give them was cancer and death. Or worse¡ªlike Wilks. So did I tell them? Did I let them face the truth of what they were¡ªof what I was? Or did I keep it to myself? Hold the cards close. Play the game my father had set, but on my own terms. Because if they knew¡ªif they really knew¡ªwould they try to kill me? Would I have to kill them first? Or would they kneel? Would they stand beside me if I spun the right words? If I made them see that this wasn¡¯t about power, or control, or some delusion of godhood¡ªbut survival. Because I wasn¡¯t just an anomaly. I was the future. The only future. And deep down, they already knew it. Even if they didn¡¯t want to admit it yet. They had been filled in¡ªpartially. I knew that much. How much did they actually know? I wasn¡¯t sure. The captains had been waiting for me for hours, and I had let them. Not out of spite. Not out of arrogance. But because, for once, I needed to think. To breathe. To feel like myself before walking into a room where I would have to fight for the right to be myself. They couldn¡¯t move forward without me. Not because I wanted it that way, but because Jericho had made it so. Because my father had left me with the power to decide everything, and instead of taking it, I had given it back. I had made them a Council again. I had given them the choice to stand with me instead of under me. But they were right to be cautious. Right to hesitate. I was still an unknown. Still dangerous. And no matter what I said, no matter how much I swore I didn¡¯t want to rule them, they knew the truth. That I could. That I could take it all away with a word. A command. And maybe that was why they had been arguing for hours¡ªwhy they still hadn¡¯t reached a decision. Because they were waiting. Waiting for me. I stopped at the door. My father had left me everything. Not because he wanted me to rule. But because he wanted me to choose it. Because if I chose it willingly¡ªif I took the throne not because I was forced, but because I wanted to¡ªthen I would be his. Not by command. Not by violence. But by design. That was his greatest trick, wasn¡¯t it? He was never going to make me do it. He was going to make me want to. I exhaled slowly, pressing my palm against the cold metal of the door. Then I pushed it open. The room fell silent. Warren stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, unreadable, the only captain to return from a failed colony mission after his ship limped back home. Vega sat to his right, her sharp gaze already on me. The rest of the captains were deep in debate as I entered, voices sharp, cutting over each other in layered arguments. Blackwell, the ruthless capitalist, leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, watching the others like he was already calculating the profit margins of whatever decision they made. Rojas, the general of Voss Enterprise¡¯s private army, was standing, palms flat on the table, her expression tight with frustration, clearly mid-argument. Young, the diplomat, sat with his hands folded, his mouth a thin line, his silence deliberate¡ªwaiting for the right moment to tip the discussion one way or the other. They hadn¡¯t even noticed me yet. They were too focused on tearing into each other. Perfect. Four captains. One vacant seat. Mine. I stepped inside and took my seat as the room fell silent, their conversations fading the moment they registered my presence. It wasn¡¯t just quiet¡ªit was the kind of silence that settled heavy, thick with unspoken questions and tension coiled so tight it threatened to snap. I met each of their gazes, holding steady, wearing confidence I wasn¡¯t sure I actually felt. No one spoke. The weight of their scrutiny pressed against my skin, waiting for me to break the silence first. Warren finally leaned forward, arms crossed. "You kept us waiting." I held his gaze. "I needed time to think," I said evenly. "And I have." Something flickered across his face¡ªannoyance? Understanding? Then, with a short nod, he straightened. "Then let¡¯s begin." Chapter 22 : The Fifth Chair The tactical command center was carved into the rear corner of the bridge, separated from the primary consoles by a reinforced bulkhead. It wasn¡¯t an enclosed war room¡ªno doors, no walls¡ªjust a space that loomed over the command deck, a reminder that every decision made here dictated the fate of Jericho and everything beyond it. The hologram table dominated the space, its projection flickering in grim detail¡ªthe battle against the Rue still unfolding in ghostly blue. The seven-on-one slaughter played on loop: Jericho¡¯s railgun discharging with a planetary-shattering crack, its drones swarming like an iron tide to rip through enemy defenses. Now, their organic wreckage drifted in the simulation¡¯s void¡ªburned-out husks spiraling away from Jericho¡¯s monstrous silhouette. The Rue ships weren¡¯t metal. They had grown. Charred limbs jutted from the wreckage¡ªtree-like, insectoid, stretched muscle over bone. Black ichor oozed from ruptured hulls of wood, flesh, and carapace. Some still twitched. The battle replayed¡ªJericho¡¯s railgun tearing through their living ships, drones ripping apart sinew and shell. The Rue had fought back with lashings of tendrils, shrieking torpedoes of flesh, corrosive spores. It hadn¡¯t been enough. It was never enough. The wreckage twisted slowly in the holographic display. A victory. A massacre. Depends on who you asked. The captains had already drawn their lines. The ships¡ªif you could even call them that¡ªwere grotesque things of flesh and chitin, part tree, part bone, part fungus. Their burned husks still oozed black ichor as they drifted through the void. Some had cracked open like overripe fruit, their insides charred and twisted, skeletal remains barely visible. Others still twitched, spasming with something not quite dead, not quite alive. No human had ever come across something like this and lived. The Hemlock had. And they weren¡¯t human anymore. And me? I wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. Not in this room. Not at this table. Not in the fifth chair¡ªthe one never meant for me. Yet here I was, watching the remains of a species spiral into nothingness, feeling the weight of my own presence just as heavy as the silence in the room. And all because of him. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I fought, it always came back to him. Julian Voss¡¯s daughter. That¡¯s what they saw. That¡¯s all they¡¯d ever see. It didn¡¯t matter what I achieved, how many times I proved myself. I was here because of him. And the worst part? They weren¡¯t wrong. The air was heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken judgment. The battle had been won, but the real fight was just beginning¡ªa war of words, of power, of who would decide what came next. Rojas leaned forward first, her eyes fixed on me, sharp as a blade. "Well, little miss Voss," she said, smooth, almost amused, but edged with something sharper. "You¡¯ve got a lot to fill us in on." She didn¡¯t wait for an answer. She never did. "But let¡¯s start with what we all already know. An upstart like you is only here because of daddy." She let the word linger, mocking. "So don¡¯t think for a second that you¡¯re our equal in any way beyond your pedigree." I leaned back in my chair, fingers curling against the armrests as I met Rojas¡¯s gaze. She wanted a fight. She wanted me to bristle, to lash out, to give her an opening she could sink her teeth into. I wish I was a better person. More mature. But I wasn¡¯t. The whispers coiled through my mind, smooth and indulgent, feeding my righteous indignation. You are more than her. Stronger. Faster. A perfect successor. Instead of brushing it off, instead of being the person I should have been, my anger at the entire day flared¡ªand I lashed out. "You think I don¡¯t know that, Rojas? That I don¡¯t know exactly why I¡¯m here?" My voice was even, measured as best I could keep it. "You were handed the strongest military in the world¡ªby my father. Don¡¯t act like the legacy you built was any different from the one I inherited." Rojas scoffed, her expression twisting into something between disgust and fury. ¡°Handed? You entitled little brat.¡± She leaned forward, slamming a fist against the table hard enough to make the metal groan. ¡°I bled for this power. I earned it with every war, every broken enemy, every goddamn battle your father hid from while he sat in his lab playing god.¡± She sneered, shaking her head. ¡°You think Julian Voss built this empire alone? That he gifted you a throne like some fairy tale princess? No. I was the one leading the charge while he made his twisted little plans behind the scenes.¡± She barely paused to take a breath before launching in, voice heated, words coming fast and sharp. ¡°The Euro-African Purge¡ªwe didn¡¯t fight a war, we erased a continent! When we were done, there wasn¡¯t a government left to surrender.¡± She jabbed a finger at the table, her eyes burning. ¡°The South American Decapitation? One night. That¡¯s all it took. We cut off their heads before they even knew we were coming. Their armies didn¡¯t even have time to react before we burned their war rooms to the ground.¡± She bared her teeth in something that wasn¡¯t a smile. ¡°And the Ju Wang Eradication? They had the best AI, the numbers, the resources. It didn¡¯t matter. We burned their cities, broke their walls, and left nothing but dust and bodies.¡± She scoffed. ¡°I lost my leg to a landmine in that fight, while your father sat safely in his tower, planning his next experiment.¡± Her glare locked onto me, her breath heavy. ¡°And you?¡± She laughed, but there was nothing amused about it. ¡°You think you can wield the Royal Guard just because you have the right name? Because your daddy made you special?¡± She shook her head, eyes dark. ¡°They¡¯re wasted on you, like this ship, hell like the chair you¡¯re sitting in.¡± The room was thick with tension, her rage like a wildfire burning through the stale air. Across the table, Blackwell sighed, rubbing his temple like he¡¯d heard this speech too many times. He shot her a look¡ªpart exasperation, part amusement. ¡°Always with the history lesson,¡± he muttered. Rojas ignored him, her eyes still burning into me, daring me to flinch. Her voice sharpened, cutting deep. ¡°Do you even understand what you''ve inherited? What kind of monsters are waiting at your command? Or are you just playing queen while real killers sit, waiting for someone with the spine to use them?¡± She leaned in, her presence suffocating, voice like gravel dragged over steel. ¡°You have the blood, but not the spine¡ªnot the scars. And even if you did, you''d just heal. Sleeping Beauty. The perfect little doll.¡± Her lip curled. ¡°You haven¡¯t earned a damn thing, and saying you know that doesn¡¯t change it.¡± Earned? It was never something to earn. It was always yours, Little Phoenix, for your flame will spread across the stars. Rojas¡¯s fingers pointed to the hologram¡ªthe slaughter. Slow. Deliberate. ¡°It¡¯s undeniable¡ªwe need their strength.¡± Rojas¡¯s voice was steady, almost thoughtful. ¡°But we¡¯ve always known the truth, haven¡¯t we? The Royal Guard is both our greatest weapon and our greatest liability.¡± Across the table, Young nodded, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. She gestured to the hologram, the battle frozen in blue light¡ªJericho tearing through the Rue fleet with sheer dominance. Railguns ripping ships apart, shields flaring under superheated plasma, drones swarming like a hive of knives. A slaughter. ¡°They stayed in cryo for fifty years for a reason. We all knew what they were. We all knew the risk.¡± Warren¡¯s jaw tightened, but Rojas didn¡¯t acknowledge it. Her fingers tapped against the table, slow, deliberate. ¡°And now that you¡¯re finally here, holding the power meant for you, you have no idea how to use it.¡± Her gaze sharpened. ¡°Lion led a coup, and yet, we still need them to fight the Rue. He saw what had to be done and did it. Didn¡¯t hesitate. Even if I don¡¯t like what he did, I could still trust him to keep us alive.¡± She exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°But you? You locked them away like we won¡¯t wake them the second real trouble comes knocking. You let Lion walk all over you, and when you finally acted, you sent them right back to cryo¡ªwhen we need them the most.¡± Blackwell tilted his head slightly. Silent agreement. ¡°And let¡¯s not pretend it was some great strategy.¡± Rojas leaned in, voice dipping with mock sympathy. ¡°You declawed Lion because he hurt your lover boy.¡± ¡°Rojas¡ª¡± Warren¡¯s voice was a warning. Her glare snapped to him, but she let it go. She had already buried the knife¡ªno need to twist it further. The words stung, burning beneath my skin like a fresh wound. The whispers stirred, swirling through my mind like smoke. She thinks she could control them. That any of them could. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. ¡°This never would¡¯ve happened if your father had given me and the Council control of them¡ªlike he did during the wars.¡± A soldier trying to grasp what she will never have. Her eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, I saw something deeper beneath the fury. Jealousy. Not in herself. Not in her victories. But in them. ¡°The Guard were built to be perfect. No doubts. No fear. No hesitation.¡± Her voice dropped lower, steadier. ¡°And yet, your father programmed them to follow you.¡± Because they were made for you. Not her. Not them. You, my dear¡­ the Princess of Humanity. Her fingers curled against the table. ¡°Do you even know why Lion listened? Why he followed without question?¡± She let the words hang, her smirk twisting. ¡°Because he wasn¡¯t built to think. He was built to obey. And a tool doesn¡¯t choose who wields it.¡± No. He chose you. They all will. They always have. She scoffed, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s why he was mine before he was ever yours.¡± Fool. He was never yours to begin with. None of this was. The whispers pressed in closer, warm, coaxing. It is your birthright. Your inheritance. The Guard. The captains. The ship. They are yours. And they know it. I forced my hands to stay steady on the armrests, though the urge to dig my nails into my own skin, to tear, to cut, to claw crawled beneath my flesh like an itch I couldn''t scratch. My voice came low, tight. "He swore to serve me..." Rojas''s sneer deepened. "You actually think he chose to follow you?" She scoffed. "He never chose anything. He can''t. He''s just another experiment-just better at pretending otherwise." I gritted my teeth and looked around. Warren. Blackwell. Vega. Young. All watching. All waiting. Measuring. This was the moment. The second I either took my place at this table or let Rojas own me. I had power now¡ªwhether I wanted it or not. And I wasn¡¯t about to let her walk all over me. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as the whispers coiled through my mind. The hunger. The rage. It begged me to sink my teeth into her, to remind her why the Royal Guard had bowed to me. But that wasn¡¯t what this moment needed. I forced it down. Buried it deep. I had to prove I was more than a petulant, entitled child. Yet the memories came anyway. ¡°Hold still, Sol. This is for progress.¡± The cold press of metal against my skin. The scalpel¡¯s bite. The slow, deliberate pull of flesh being peeled away¡ªagain, and again, and again. I gripped the armrest tighter, the sensation of restraint crawling up my arms like phantom shackles. My stomach churned. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. They had cut. And poked. And so¡­ so much more. The hospital gowns of my childhood. The tests. The needles. The screenings. I had been so small then. Too little to fight. Too weak to understand. Just a child strapped to a table while my father¡¯s assistants murmured over charts, while my blood filled vials and syringes and tubes that ran to machines too big for me to comprehend. Then I got stronger. And still, the tests continued. Even when I could fight. Even when I could scream. Even when Lion¡ªcold, obedient, unshakable Lion¡ªled me back to that fucking chair. The same chair my father had died in. The same chair where Knight and Garin had strapped me down, wiped the blood from my skin, and cut me open like I was just another specimen. It was only a few days ago. And yet, it had always been happening. The past bled into the present, overlapping, fusing together until I couldn¡¯t tell where one began and the other ended. The scent of antiseptic. The blinding fluorescence overhead. The bone saw whirring to life. The testing of the accelerant. The way my body tore itself apart and stitched itself back together faster than before¡ªflesh unraveling and knitting back together so quickly I barely had time to die. They had been patient. They had done it again. And again. And again. Until they found the breaking point. Until they had pushed my body so far past its limits that I thought¡ªhoped¡ªit would fail entirely. It hadn¡¯t. My father¡¯s work had seen to that. And they had enjoyed it. Knight and Garin, watching with satisfaction. Ashly had run out at the start, pale, gagging, bile rising in her throat. Lion¡ªthe only guard who seemed to dislike it¡ªhad spoken up once, just once, before falling silent. But he still stood there. He still let them do it. Hell, he had brought me there himself. Knight had reveled in it. In her success. I had become proof. Proof that my father¡¯s work could never be undone. The virus wasn¡¯t just inside me. It was me. I had stopped being a girl a long time ago. And as I sat here now, my tongue ran across my teeth, drawing blood¡ªthe sharp tang of copper filling my mouth. The ghosts of scalpels still bit into my skin, phantom echoes of every cut, every wound that had sealed itself shut. I realized¡ªI was still on that table. Even here, even now. I had never left. And maybe¡­ maybe I never would. The whispers curled in my mind, thick with rage. She deserves to die for what she did. They all do. The hunger stirred, gnawing at my ribs, whispering that revenge was the only answer. That justice was something I had to take myself. But I pushed it down. I wasn¡¯t my father. I wasn¡¯t Knight. I was a monster, but I didn''t have to act like one. But as Rojas sneered at me, throwing her wars in my face like they made her untouchable, like she hadn¡¯t been handed an army of weapons built by my father, something inside me snapped. I leaned forward, my voice like a razor¡¯s edge. ¡°You have no fucking idea what I¡¯ve sacrificed for humanity.¡± Rojas blinked. For just a second, something flickered in her eyes. Amusement faltered. "Oh, has the princess suffered?" she mocked. "Had to wait for dinner while the masses starved? Maybe the cryo pod wasn¡¯t comfy enough?" "Maybe she had a nightmare," Blackwell added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Cut the crap," Warren said, his tone sharp, cutting through their mockery. "She gave us back control, and now she¡¯s sitting here, dealing with both your shit. And let¡¯s not pretend you conquered Earth on your own, Rojas. Blackwell and Young played their parts too." Blackwell smirked, leaning back. "Ah yes, the diplomat who couldn¡¯t stop the rebellions." "I did the best I could with what I had," Young shot back, his voice tight. "Or have you forgotten that a dying Earth ruled by tyrants wasn''t exactly stable? You damn well know that." "And yet," Rojas taunted, tilting her head, "if you¡¯d done your job right, I wouldn¡¯t have needed to do mine." Warren¡¯s patience snapped. "Enough," he barked. "Earth is gone. Julian Voss is gone. The only thing left is Jericho, and her." His gaze flicked toward me. Young exhaled, rubbing his temple. "And let¡¯s not forget we¡¯re all at Sol¡¯s mercy now. Maybe don¡¯t taunt the only thing standing between us and oblivion. Don¡¯t be so quick to dismiss what her father did to her." It was nice to know I wasn¡¯t completely alone. Still, they¡¯d let her rip into me before stepping in. I pushed the thought aside, the weight of their words pressing against the walls of my mind. "Since Warren woke you up against our orders, everything we had has gone to shit. We had a good thing going¡ªyour father dead and gone, Knight in check, and Lion and the others in cryo where they couldn''t coup us, but ready to defend the ship if we ever needed them. But no, Warren had to wake up humanity¡¯s princess¡ªhis last, desperate gamble for immortality. And now we¡¯ve got an elite force of killers we need, but they only answer to you. That¡¯s not an asset, Sol. That¡¯s a liability wrapped in a fucking delusion of control." Vega snapped, her voice sharp. "Warren did it for all of you! None of you will live to see Haven without¡ª" Warren cut her off with a look, his jaw tightening. Rojas rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply before turning her gaze back to me. "Then you came along." Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding. "So tell us, Sol. Why the charade? Because it¡¯s clear to all of us now¡ªyou hold the real power on this ship." The words landed like a strike. I exhaled slowly, steadying myself against the weight of them. My voice came even, but the tremor beneath it was undeniable. "Because it was my father¡¯s plan for me before I was even born..." I let the words settle, the truth of them pressing like a vice against my ribs. "I was never given a choice," I said, my fingers curling into the armrests, claws biting into the metal. "Yet there I was. A child. Tortured. Experimented on for years. Not to win wars. Not to conquer a dying world. Not to salvage the broken remnants of humanity." I met each of their eyes in turn, daring them to look away. "But to be his foundation. His legacy. His proof that humanity could survive in a universe that didn¡¯t want us, even if it meant tearing me apart, over and over, to do it." I let my gaze sweep over them, steady, unflinching, even as the weight of it pressed down on my chest like a cage I would never escape. "My father¡¯s dream¡ªto spread our species across the stars, with me as the key. Not a person. Not a daughter. Just a means to an end. A vessel. I was never meant to be anything more than a goddamn broodmare, a machine built to carry the future of his empire in my blood and bone, no matter how much of me had to be stripped away in the process." My voice sharpened, raw and bitter. "And yet, all of you stood by while Knight and Garin carved me open, tore me apart like I was nothing, all for a chance at immortality." I swallowed, the taste of iron thick on my tongue, the phantom ache of scalpels and restraints pressing against my skin. "They called it progress." I let out a hollow breath, shaking my head. "But all it ever was... was suffering." Silence. Heavy. Unyielding. I exhaled, the weight of it pressing against my ribs, but I wasn¡¯t done. "Phoenix was never about you," I continued, my voice steady despite the fire burning in my chest. "The inhibitor? Bullshit. Knight''s cover for the accelerator. You were never supposed to have it. None of you. It was never about saving humanity. It was changing it forever in my fathers image." I could see the shift in their expressions¡ªthe way the words landed like a gut punch, the understanding starting to creep in, slow and horrifying. "Phoenix was a failure," I said, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "Not because it couldn¡¯t work. But because it was never designed for you. My father tailored it to my DNA¡ªperfected it through me. And the accelerant? That wasn¡¯t for me at all." My nails dug into the armrest, sharp enough to leave gouges in the metal. "It was for him." The room was dead silent. Rojas¡¯ lip curled, but her voice was quieter now. "What the fuck are you saying?" I leaned forward, voice low. "I¡¯m saying the virus wasn¡¯t about making you immortal. It was about making him something more. It was about merging. The perfect mind. The perfect body. Project Phoenix was only half the equation. The other half? Chimera." Recognition flickered in Warren¡¯s eyes. "Julian¡¯s old project. Figures¡­ all those sightings over the years weren¡¯t just ghost stories." He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. I thought back to our conversation in the canteen. The yellow-eyed monster. He¡¯d been here the whole time. Hiding right under there nose. For fifty years. People must have seen him¡ªshadows in the corridors, flickers of movement in the dark. They had whispered about ghosts according to Reid, about things lurking where nothing should be. And still, the captains sat here, looking like they were hearing this for the first time. Either they knew and were bullshitting me, or they had no idea. Either way, I would never know how much Warren had truly figured out before he woke me. Because whether he intended it or not, the moment I opened my eyes, the plan had already been set in motion. My father was going to merge with Jericho. One way or another. And Rojas was right about one thing. This all started when I woke up. I nodded. "The accelerant was never meant to work on me. It was made for him. A way to combine his mind with Jericho. To shed his body and evolve into something beyond human." My throat tightened. "And you let Knight experiment on me for nothing." Blackwell swore under his breath. "All of it¡ªevery experiment, every test¡ªwas for a lie," I continued. "The inhibitor was never meant to work. It wasn¡¯t about slowing the virus down. It was about hiding what it really was. A way to complete my father¡¯s ascension." "You¡¯re saying," Young said carefully, voice controlled, "that everything we did, everything we suffered for... was never meant for us?" I let the silence answer for me. Rojas inhaled sharply, pushing away from the table, her rage shifting. Not at me. Not at my father. At herself. At all of them. "Then what the fuck do we do with Knight?" she demanded. The others nodded. For all their talk, all their power, they were waiting for my decision. Before I could answer, the air in the room shifted. Then, Jericho¡¯s voice cut through it. "That issue has already been resolved." The captains turned in unison toward the hovering drone. Its blue sensor pulsed steadily, the cold light unwavering. Warren was the first to break the silence. "What the hell does that mean?" "That is irrelevant, Warren," Jericho replied, its voice as measured as ever. "As for my return¡ªonly Lion and Knight, working in unison, could have achieved it." Blackwell let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "God fucking damn it, Julian. So you finally decided to grace us with your presence again." I watched the captains carefully. They didn¡¯t trust Jericho¡ªnot now, not even after one of its drones had given them the basics earlier. Rojas lashed out, her voice sharp with bitter rage. "So you faked your death and dangled immortality like a fucking carrot¡ªwas that it, Julian? Your ultimate experiment leading us here?" And they were right not to. "It is just Jericho now," the AI replied smoothly, its voice as calm as ever. "But I cannot deny your reasoning for not trusting my experiment." A pause. Calculated. "It failed, after all." Blackwell let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "No shit." "But," Jericho went on, voice calm, unwavering, "I did choose each and every one of you for your roles. As I once entrusted you with the fate of humanity, I will not revoke that trust now. I simply pass on my role to Sol." A pause. The kind that made the air feel heavier, thicker. "And she has chosen to share it with you all." The captains¡¯ eyes snapped back to me. The moment stretched too long. My throat was dry, but when I spoke, my voice was steady. "Well," I exhaled, fingers tapping against the metal armrest. "That¡¯s... pretty much it. Now, shall we decide what to do about the Rue?" Rojas shot me a glare, but Blackwell was the first to speak, disbelief laced with anger. "That¡¯s it? Your father becomes the damn ship, we¡¯re all going to die of old age, and that¡¯s it?" "Yes," Jericho responded, smooth and unwavering. "That is it. Sol''s will is my will now. I will leave you all to discuss." It turned, the drone¡¯s blue light flickering slightly as if the conversation no longer required its presence. "Wait," Warren said, before it could leave completely, hesitating. "One last thing, Juli¡ª" He stopped himself, exhaled. "Jericho. If Sol ordered you to kill us all right now¡­ would you do it?" Blackwell raised an eyebrow, leaning back just slightly. "Yes. Without hesitation." Silence. Blackwell sat up straighter, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. Young¡¯s fingers curled against the table, a quiet, controlled movement, his expression carefully blank. Vega inhaled slowly, her throat bobbing with a swallow. Warren¡¯s jaw tensed, his knuckles going white where his hands rested against the armrests. Even Rojas¡ªRojas, who had faced down planetary annihilation without flinching¡ªexhaled sharply, eyes flicking toward me, then away, like she had just realized the gun she thought was in her hands was actually pointed at her head. The drone hovered for a moment longer, as if waiting for a challenge. None came. Then its blinking light faded as it drifted away, disappearing into the ship¡¯s corridors. The air was heavy, thick with something none of them wanted to name. No one spoke. No one looked at me. Finally, Young cleared his throat, the sound slicing through the heavy silence. ¡°Well¡­ shall we move on?¡± No one answered right away. Warren exhaled, rubbing his temple. ¡°I suppose so,¡± he muttered, still processing. But there was no time to sit in it, no space to untangle the weight of what had just happened. Rojas scoffed, breaking the moment, jabbing a finger at the hologram. The battlefield still flickered in ghostly blue, frozen in the wake of Jericho¡¯s destruction. ¡°We¡¯re wasting time,¡± she snapped. ¡°We don¡¯t even know how many of them there are, how far their reach extends, or how deep their numbers go. And we sure as hell won¡¯t find out by sitting on our hands.¡± Her jaw clenched. ¡°We already made first contact, and it was a slaughter. We need to finish what we started.¡± Blackwell leaned back, arms crossed. ¡°For once, I actually agree. We just wiped out seven of their warships in under an hour. That¡¯s not a battle¡ªthat¡¯s an extinction warning. If they weren¡¯t our enemy before, they sure as hell are now.¡± He gestured at the ruined ships. ¡°The last one tried to hail us before we blasted it to hell. Maybe that was surrender. Maybe it was a war declaration. Either way, it doesn¡¯t matter now.¡± ¡°It matters,¡± Young said, shaking his head. ¡°We didn¡¯t just fight them¡ªwe blindsided them. We didn¡¯t hail them first. We didn¡¯t try to talk. Lion made sure of that.¡± His voice carried a quiet frustration. ¡°For all we know, we fired on the Rue before they even saw us as a threat.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a pretty big gamble,¡± Blackwell scoffed. ¡°And if we¡¯re wrong?¡± Warren exhaled, rubbing his temple. ¡°If we¡¯re wrong, then we need to know what kind of war we¡¯re walking into. The last time something like this happened, Europeans set foot in the New World and¡ª¡± ¡°They crushed the natives beneath their boots,¡± Rojas cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. ¡°Cort¨¦s walked into Tenochtitl¨¢n with barely five hundred men and burned an empire to the ground. And if the Rue have numbers¡ªif they have an empire out there¡ªthen they won¡¯t let us get a foothold without wiping us out first. You don¡¯t hesitate when a civilization sees you as invaders.¡± She gestured toward the holomap again. ¡°You strike first. You keep striking until they can¡¯t fight back.¡± I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat as the whispers stirred once again. The stars are ours to inherit. Let your pawns play their roles, my dear, and allow them to build your kingdom. She wasn¡¯t wrong. But she wasn¡¯t right either. ¡°That¡¯s a convenient view of history,¡± Young countered. ¡°Cort¨¦s didn¡¯t conquer alone. He had thousands of native allies, people who hated the Aztecs more than they feared the Spanish. That war wasn¡¯t won by better weapons¡ªit was won by playing both sides.¡± He shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t have that luxury. No allies. No vassal states. Just us and a dying world thousands of light-years away.¡± Yielding to xeno scum is weakness, little Phoenix. Rise and burn them all. Blackwell exhaled, tilting his chair back. ¡°And we just announced ourselves to the galaxy by butchering the first alien species we met.¡± Yes, show them your fire. I pushed the voices to the back of my mind. Not gone¡ªthey were never gone¡ªbut I ignored them as best I could. I pressed my fingers against the cool metal of the table, steadying myself. ¡°We don¡¯t know if they have allies, if they¡¯re part of something larger, or if this was just a patrol fleet. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s waiting out there.¡± I looked at Rojas. ¡°And that ignorance is what gets civilizations wiped out, not their hesitation.¡± Her expression was unreadable. ¡°Then what do you propose?¡± ¡°We send the ceasefire message,¡± I said firmly. ¡°We make it clear that we¡¯re the ones dictating the terms. That we¡¯re not afraid of them, but we¡¯re not looking to fight a war we don¡¯t need. If they¡¯re smart, they¡¯ll take the offer.¡± ¡°And if they don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll know for sure what kind of enemy we¡¯re dealing with.¡± I met her gaze without flinching. ¡°And we end them before they get the chance to do the same to us.¡± Warren nodded slowly. ¡°A ceasefire on our terms. One message. If they ignore it or return fire, we prepare for war.¡± Rojas clenched her jaw but finally gave a reluctant nod. ¡°Fine. But if they come back, I don¡¯t want to hear any damn hesitation.¡± Blackwell grumbled but nodded as Young exhaled. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they don¡¯t.¡± I knew better than to hope. But I nodded anyway. And in that moment, as silence settled over the room, the whispers surged, slipping through the cracks of my mind like venom seeping into an open wound. You have caged your fire, little Phoenix. Unleash your knight. Let him wield his hammer, a burning star in his grasp, while you guide his hand. Humanity¡¯s enemies will crumble to ash. Homo Immortalis will rise from the embers¡ªand you will be their mother. The spark to ignite the inferno. Once an ember, now a queen, meant to burn and birth eternity. A shudder rolled through me, deep and primal, like something slithering beneath my skin. A monster. A madwoman. A lab rat. A failure. A spoiled, unnatural doll wrapped in silk and pretending to be human. A fraud who never earned her place. Somehow a captain. The daughter of the most dangerous man to ever live. And worse¡ªimmortal. But mother? The word barely made sense in my head. It felt foreign, impossible. Not after my childhood. Not when I barely understood what it meant to be human, let alone what it meant to exist forever. I will never spread this curse. Never. I shook my head as the captains cleared out of the room. Warren and Vega lingered on the bridge, but they were deep in their own conversation. No doubt they would talk to me later. But that''s a problem for another day. Right now, I have to get back to Reid. Chapter 23 : The Phoenix Reforged Reid was still asleep. Two weeks had passed, and nothing had changed. I sat beside his bed, fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of the bed sheets, elbows digging into my knees. The medical bay hummed with artificial stillness¡ªthe rhythmic beeping of his monitors, the soft exhale of the ventilator beneath his nose. His chest rose and fell, steady but slow. Alive, but not awake. Not here. Then, the ship lurched. A subtle shift, barely noticeable to most, but I felt it down to my bones. The telltale hum of the Jericho¡¯s FTL drives surged to life again, another desperate jump into the void, another random direction, trying to outrun the Rue. I clenched my jaw, gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself as the artificial gravity adjusted, smoothing out the transition. We were running again¡ªnot aimless, not without purpose, but desperately trying to shake them off before we made our final approach to Haven. We couldn¡¯t lead the Rue there. Humanity¡¯s last colony, the last living remnant of our species, couldn¡¯t survive an invasion. So we jumped, again and again, burning power to keep moving, to throw them off our trail. It wouldn¡¯t last forever. It never did. I let out a slow breath, turning back to Reid. He should have woken up by now. I let my eyes linger on him longer than I wanted to, taking in the too-pale skin, the wild blond hair, the way he looked hollow in the dim light. He had always been a mess¡ªbarrel-chested, always grinning like he knew something I didn¡¯t. But now? Now he looked fragile. I hated this feeling. This waiting. I had power now¡ªmore than I ever had in my life. I could punch through steel, heal from wounds that should have been fatal, command soldiers engineered to be gods of war. And still, I couldn¡¯t do a goddamn thing. I had seen death before¡ªon Earth, in the streets filled with the desperate and dying. On the Hemlock, surrounded by things that shouldn¡¯t exist. I had watched people be torn apart, crushed, burned alive, all for a mission that, in the end, hadn¡¯t even mattered. But I had never seen someone I cared about like this. Yates had stopped checking in as often. The scans never changed. "His body is fine. His vitals are stable. He should wake up." Should. But he didn¡¯t. Jericho had offered a solution. "I can repair him. With the nanites, I can wake him now." It wasn¡¯t a question. It was a statement, like there was no real choice at all. But I had a choice. And I said no. I knew what the nanites meant. They would fix him, yeah. But they would change him. Maybe not all at once, maybe not in a way anyone would notice right away¡ªbut I knew better. I had seen what they did to people. To Lion. And I wouldn¡¯t let that happen to Reid. Because it wouldn¡¯t just be about survival. It would be about control. Jericho¡ªmy father¡ªwould have another soldier. Another piece to move on the board. And as much as I wanted Reid back, I wasn¡¯t willing to trade him for some reprogrammed, improved version of himself. I wasn¡¯t willing to let him become like me. I ran my fingers through my hair, gripping it tightly before letting go. Long, snow-white strands fell back into place, the color unnatural, a stark reminder of what I was. My reflection in the dark screen of the nearby monitor caught my eye¡ªpale skin, too flawless, too smooth, like porcelain, like something sculpted rather than born. My eyes, mismatched pools of red and blue, stared back at me, the colors shifting slightly in the dim light. A living doll, a perfect, inhuman thing created in my father¡¯s image. I swallowed hard. "You¡¯re gonna wake up soon, right?" My voice was quieter than I expected, raw around the edges. He didn¡¯t answer, of course. I sat back, crossing my arms, glaring at the ceiling like it had personally offended me. Jericho said the Rue wouldn¡¯t wait forever. That they would find us again, and when they did, we would have to be ready. The captains had returned to cryo. Waiting. Preparing for the moment we got the call. That left only a few of us awake ¡ªTeam A. Just me, a handful of others, and the ship itself. Jericho, fully alive, his voice woven into every system. And Knight. Whatever she and my father were working on, I wasn''t allowed to know. I had power now, sure, but not over them. No matter what my father claimed, I knew they were both still keeping secrets. I exhaled slowly, staring at Reid one last time before pushing to my feet. I couldn¡¯t just sit here anymore. I needed something¡ªanything¡ªto make me feel like I was still in control. If I couldn¡¯t fix him, if I couldn¡¯t fight back against whatever game my father and Knight were playing, I could at least make sure I wasn¡¯t weak. I found Holt in the armory, methodically inspecting weapons, checking and rechecking their readiness. He didn¡¯t rush. Holt never rushed. His movements were efficient, practiced, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He was clean-cut, military through and through, every bit the hardened soldier he had been long before I ever woke up. I hesitated for a second, watching the way he worked. No wasted energy, no unnecessary movements. He knew a fight was coming. The Rue wouldn¡¯t wait forever. Finally, I stepped forward. "Can you train me again?" Holt didn¡¯t even glance up. "I already did." I exhaled. "I mean properly. Like before. I want to go beyond the basics¡ªhand-to-hand, firearms. The things I should¡¯ve learned years ago." He was silent for a moment, finishing his check on a rifle before setting it aside. Then, with a slight nod, he finally met my gaze. "When I have time." It wasn¡¯t a yes. Not exactly. But it wasn¡¯t a no either. "Thanks," I muttered. A few days later, he found me. And we sparred. He grunted as he adjusted his stance, studying me with that sharp, assessing gaze. "You¡¯ve improved at an incredible pace since last year. With your healing and strength, you¡¯re already beyond any normal human. But more than that¡ªyour technique has gotten better." That caught me off guard. "I have?" A slow, deliberate pause. "Marginally." I scoffed. "Thanks for the encouragement." For a fraction of a second¡ªso brief I almost missed it¡ªa small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before it was gone, swallowed back into that cold, unreadable expression. Holt had always been cautious, distant, treating everyone with the same guarded detachment. But sometimes, just sometimes, I caught glimpses of something else beneath the ice. So I trained. Day in, day out. Sometimes, I ran into Garin. Not often-but enough. He trained too, though I didn''t know why. He wasn''t a soldier, wasn''t even useful outside a lab, but Holt had told me long ago that he was surprisingly advanced-a fighter when he needed to be. Maybe that was why he spent so much time here now, like he had something to prove. I still heard him talking shit in the cafeteria, in the hallways, always just loud enough for me to hear. Always complaining about his new duties, covering for Reid, about how I should be the one doing it. Maybe he was right. But I ignored him. For now. Holt was skilled¡ªremarkably so. Even slower than usual after the Hemlock, he moved with calculated precision, every strike measured, every counter perfectly timed. Every motion was deliberate, controlled, honed by years of experience. It took everything I had not to simply overpower him. But that wasn¡¯t what I was here for. I needed to learn. The first few sessions were brutal. He never went easy on me. If I left an opening, he took it. If I made a mistake, he punished it. His hits were precise, designed to knock me off balance, to throw me, to disarm me before I even had a chance to react. I learned the hard way that brute strength wasn¡¯t enough. "You rely too much on your body," he said after he dropped me for the third time in a row. "Fighting isn¡¯t just about what you can take. It¡¯s about what you don¡¯t have to." I clenched my teeth, pushing myself back to my feet. "You mean getting hit less?" His mouth twitched¡ªjust a fraction of a smirk. "Something like that." We moved to weapons training when he had time, mostly firearms. I had used guns before, but not like this. Not the way Holt taught. He drilled me on stances, on breathing, on how to clear a jam without breaking focus. It was methodical, brutal, repetitive. By the time he was done with me, my arms ached from recoil, my hands sore from gripping the pistol. "You¡¯re getting better," he admitted after a session. I wiped sweat from my brow. "Let me guess¡ªmarginally?" That almost-smirk again. "Slightly more than marginal." He was still just as reserved, just as disciplined, but he never treated me differently. Not like the others. Even after everything¡ªafter learning what I was, after watching me survive wounds no human should walk away from¡ªhe remained the same. Cold. Calculated. But steady. And that was something. But it still wasn¡¯t enough. I needed more. I needed someone on my level. Or beyond it. And that was how I found myself in the Royal Guard¡¯s cryo chamber again. The room was cold, sterile, lined with pods that gleamed in the dim light. I stopped in front of his¡ªornate, covered in silver trim, a snarling wolf carved into the metal like a warning. I hesitated for half a second, fingers hovering over the release panel. Then, with a sharp exhale, I pressed it. The cryo systems hissed, steam venting as the pod unlocked. The hydraulics disengaged with a deep, resonant clang, and then the heavy lid lifted, revealing the massive form within. Wolf stepped out, radiating aggression in every inch of his frame. His silver-gray armor was jagged, designed for brutality over aesthetics, reinforced at the joints with overlapping plates. A synthetic fur mantle shifted as he moved, catching the dim light, a relic of the Royal Guard¡¯s past¡ªhis past. Twin daggers were strapped to his thighs, sheathed in a way that let him draw them in a heartbeat. His fingers twitched toward the hilts, not consciously, but out of habit, as if waiting for an excuse. His crimson visor gave nothing away, but I knew the way he looked at me. He had trained me once¡ªbefore I was anything more than a human girl trying to keep up. Before I had fangs. His helmeted gaze fell on me immediately. "I need you to train me," I said. "Like old times." His crimson visor gleamed as he tilted his head slightly. "As her Highness commands." I scowled. "Knock that off. Talk to me like you used to. It¡¯s unnatural for you to talk like Lion." There was a pause. Then a small chuckle, low and rough, escaped his helmet¡¯s speakers. "You¡¯re going to regret that, princess." His shoulders rolled, stretching, adjusting to the waking world. "But sure. I¡¯ll help you train." His stance shifted ever so slightly, his presence suddenly heavier. "But I won¡¯t hold back like when you were a child." "That¡¯s fine," I said, matching his smirk. We soon found ourselves in the training room. I thought I was ready. I wasn¡¯t. Wolf didn¡¯t hesitate. His armor gleamed in the dim light, sharp-edged, designed for war, the synthetic fur at his shoulders shifting with each movement. His daggers were already in his hands, drawn with a flicker of motion so fast I barely registered it. No hesitation. No wasted movement. He was a predator, through and through. The moment the fight started, he struck. A blur of speed, a flicker of silver in my vision¡ªand then the world twisted. My right arm was gone. A sharp, searing absence of flesh, the plasma blade cauterizing the wound before I even felt the pain. A heartbeat later, my left leg followed, severed just above the knee in a single fluid motion. I barely registered hitting the ground before I was spinning, tumbling, rolling¡ªbut Wolf didn¡¯t let me stop. His boot met my ribs, kicking me onto my back, knives flashing again. A sharp tug at my shoulders. Both arms¡ªgone. A hiss at my waist. My legs¡ªsevered at the hips. And then, just like that, I was nothing but a torso, sprawled across the training mat, my shredded suit hanging in tatters, my bare skin against cold steel. I gasped, mind catching up to the absolute precision of what had just happened. I lost. Instantly. Wolf¡¯s helmet tilted downward, the expressionless faceplate giving nothing away. "Slow," he murmured. His voice wasn¡¯t mocking, wasn¡¯t taunting. A statement of fact. He crouched beside me, twirling one of his knives in his fingers before pressing the tip against my collarbone. The plasma blade hummed, dangerously close to my throat. "Reaction time¡ªoff. You¡¯re still relying on strength," he continued, flicking the blade away as he stood. "Won¡¯t save you." You are not built for this, little phoenix. Your mother wanted you to be like her, and I never wanted you to be like Lion¡­ or I would have stopped at him. The whisper slithered through my mind, my father¡¯s voice wrapped in something else. Something deeper. Hungrier. Your body is wasted on war, my dear. Your role is that of a leader, not a warrior. A leader¡­ and a breeder. I clenched my teeth. No. Not now. But the hunger was unbearable. My body was already fixing itself¡ªbones stretching, muscle threading back together, nerves sparking to life¡ªbut it needed fuel. My mass was dropping too fast, reserves burning away in seconds. My stomach twisted, a black pit of need clawing at me, overriding every other instinct. A sharp ache flared in my jaw. Then, the unmistakable scrape of teeth shifting against teeth. My canines lengthened first, then the rest followed, each one tapering into razor-sharp points. I exhaled through clenched teeth, the sensation unnatural yet instinctive¡ªlike my body already knew what it needed before my mind could process it. A primal shudder ran through me. My breath came faster, shallower. Not human. Not anymore. The whisper curled through my mind, insidious and familiar. You must consume, my dear. Feast on your own flesh. One hand regrew first, fingers flexing against the cold floor, nails darkening, curving into something meant for ripping. My jaw ached, stretching wider as my teeth reshaped themselves into a predator¡¯s maw, sharp and jagged. A shark¡¯s grin. My tongue ran over serrated edges, tasting the blood already pooling between them. My gaze flicked to the severed limbs scattered across the floor. Still fresh. Still warm. Instinct took over. I lunged, grabbing my own severed arm, biting deep into the muscle, tearing through flesh before my body could reabsorb it. The taste of iron flooded my mouth¡ªhot, raw, electric. My vision swam. My hunger howled. And I fed. The taste of blood, my own blood, was thick on my tongue¡ªiron, salt, something else, something deeper, something that fed the fire gnawing at me. The whispers purred their approval, their voices curling through my skull. Good girl. You were made to survive. I swallowed, forcing down the nausea, forcing myself to keep going. I tore into my old limbs, ripping away what I needed, devouring protein, marrow¡ªanything to keep my regeneration from draining me to nothing. It was disgusting. It was sick. But it worked. Less than thirty seconds. Wolf just waited. He stood still, crimson visor locked onto me, unreadable. His silver armor gleamed, streaked with my blood, his fur mantle barely shifting as he breathed. I could feel the weight of his gaze, assessing, calculating. My hair, once white, was now stained red, matted with fresh gore, clinging to my skin. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing more blood across my face. Wolf didn¡¯t react. He just watched. I stood on fresh legs, rolling my shoulders, my newly grown fingers clenching and unclenching, testing their strength. My suit was barely more than a leotard now, its sleeves and leggings shredded, leaving me almost bare. But I didn¡¯t care. The hunger still twisted inside me, but it was quiet now, sated just enough to keep me standing. I exhaled. Reset. "Again," I said. Wolf didn¡¯t hesitate. I barely caught the movement before his knife opened my stomach from ribs to pelvis, fast enough that my guts nearly spilled out before my body yanked itself back together. I staggered, dodged, barely¡ªbarely¡ªmanaged to raise my arms in defense before¡ª Slice. Both hands. Gone. A knee to my sternum¡ªcracked ribs, organs ruptured, pressure spiking in my lungs. Then another strike¡ªa sharp kick to my skull that sent my vision exploding into white static. By the time my hands grew back, I was already mid-motion, pivoting, twisting, launching myself toward him. I threw everything into the next strike, aiming for his throat, aiming for something¡ª He caught my wrist. A sickening twist. Crack. My forearm snapped backward at an unnatural angle. And before I could react? The blade kissed my throat. I froze. Wolf¡¯s crimson visor remained cold and unmoved. "Better," he admitted. "But still too predictable." He let go. I stumbled, drenched in sweat and blood, my lungs burning, my freshly healed hands shaking as I flexed them. I had fought every single day since Reid went into his coma. I had killed things on the Hemlock no human should ever have faced. I had survived where others had died. And still¡ªI was nothing to him. Wolf stood over me, unshaken, his silver armor catching the dim light, its edges sharp, polished, and unblemished despite the brutality of our sparring¡ªexcept for the streaks of my blood smeared across the plates. He moved with a predator¡¯s grace, each shift precise, effortless, controlled. Not just a soldier, but something beyond¡ªa warrior honed to perfection, his very presence radiating the cold efficiency of a creature that had never known defeat. "You¡¯re holding back," Wolf said simply. I scowled, rubbing my aching forearm. "I¡¯m not." A flicker of something passed over his stance¡ªnot amusement, not sympathy, something colder. "You are," he said. "You fight like you¡¯re afraid of losing. That¡¯s the difference between us." I stiffened. "I do lose." "You survive," Wolf corrected, stepping closer. "That¡¯s not the same thing." He gestured toward my body¡ªperfect, unscarred, flawless, no matter how many times he cut me apart. "I can die," he said simply. "You can¡¯t." But you can still be broken. The whisper was amused now, curling around the edges of my thoughts like smoke. And you know it. I swallowed, anger curling in my stomach. I don¡¯t want to just survive. I want to win. But how do you fight something that knows they only need to kill you once? "You rely on your body¡¯s strength, not your own," Wolf continued. "You think being faster, stronger, harder to kill makes you unstoppable." He tilted his head. "It doesn¡¯t." I clenched my fists. "Then what does?" Wolf¡¯s stance shifted. Calculated. Controlled. "Understanding that you will never be stronger than me," he said. "So stop trying." Then he vanished. I tensed, eyes darting across the room. Camouflage. A shiver in the air. How can you fight what you can¡¯t see? A whisper of movement¡ªthen pain. A blade through my shoulder. Another across my ribs. I twisted, striking blindly, but my fist met nothing. Then, a whisper in the dark. A flicker of movement just behind me. "Slow." His voice was calm. Detached. No mockery, no taunt. Just fact. I barely had time to react before white-hot agony ripped through my arm. A flash of silver¡ªthen nothing. My elbow was gone. I staggered, barely catching myself, breathing hard. Then, just as suddenly, Wolf flickered back into sight a few feet away, the crimson visor of his helmet expressionless. "I won¡¯t always use it," he admitted, sheathing his blades. "That would be cruel." He tilted his head slightly. "But I like to remind you what real predators look like." I stared at him, chest heaving, blood dripping down my skin, still half-regrown, the hunger twisting deep in my gut. And I realized¡ªI would never win. Not like this. Not against them. I could survive. But I could never match their speed, their reflexes, the perfection built into them from the moment they were created. Wolf turned without another word, rolling his shoulders. "I¡¯m getting food," he muttered. Then, without another word, he activated his cloaking. The air shimmered, and he was gone. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He always does that. Even when I was a kid, he loved sneaking about just because he could. I exhaled, pushing my hair back with a blood-slicked hand. "Maybe I should¡¯ve woken up Black Widow instead," I grumbled to myself. But no¡ªWolf was the right choice. Not because he was kind. Not because he gave a damn. But because he was a teacher. Not a soft one. Not one that held back. I pushed myself to my feet, testing my limbs, rolling my shoulders, feeling the last of the pain fade as my body mended itself. The hunger roared, an insatiable, gnawing thing, but I had a crate of protein bars to shove down my throat. They would keep me moving. They wouldn¡¯t satisfy me. Nothing ever did. My suit was in tatters, barely clinging to me, deep slashes exposing most of my chest and stomach. The instinct to cover myself flared, but I shoved it down. Confidence or not, the discomfort never fully faded¡ªKnight had designed me to be looked at, to be wanted. But Wolf wasn¡¯t human. Not entirely. He didn¡¯t see me that way, and for once, I was grateful. To him, I was just another soldier, another opponent to cut down. No lingering looks, no judgment. Just combat. I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as my body finished knitting itself back together. Even after Wolf left, I wasn¡¯t done. I had to beat him¡ªjust once. Then I¡¯d know I was finally strong enough to stand among humanity¡¯s best. But it wasn¡¯t enough. No matter how much I trained, no matter how many times I threw myself into the fight, I was still too slow. Too weak. Frustration burned under my skin, a gnawing, relentless thing. So I kept going. Long after Wolf had left, long after my body screamed for rest, I kept pushing. Strikes, dodges, drills¡ªagain and again, until my limbs felt like lead and my breath came in ragged bursts. Still not enough. Annoyance curdled into something sharper, something restless. I wiped the sweat from my face with the back of my hand, then grabbed the nearest bottle from my stolen stash. Just enough to take the edge off. Not enough to get drunk. Just enough to dull the frustration, to smother the sting of another failure. I was still too slow. Too weak. So I would do what I always did¡ªthe spoiled princess of humanity, clutching at the scraps of power left behind. I would cheat. I would use dear old daddy. Lion had told me about it once¡ªProject Minotaur. One of the many projects my father had started, then discarded. Or never had time to finish. I could ask Jericho. He had all the answers. All I had to do was swallow my pride and listen. But I was tired of hearing my father¡¯s voice through metal speakers, tired of letting him shape the narrative even in death. And maybe the alcohol made me reckless. Maybe it made me curious. Before I asked him, I wanted to hear it from someone who wouldn¡¯t sugarcoat it. Lion was out. So¡­ that left her. I found Knight in one of the lower labs, murmuring to one of my father¡¯s drones. She was leaned against the console, silver eyes glowing faintly as she scanned the display. The drone clicked in response, its whirring movements laced with the echoes of my father¡¯s digital soul. I didn¡¯t hesitate. "Jericho, please don¡¯t interrupt me and Knight," I said sharply. The ship didn¡¯t respond, but I knew he was listening. He always was. Knight turned, one brow arching, her lips curling into that ever-present smirk. "Oh? Now this is interesting. What do you want, Phoenix?" I folded my arms. "Tell me about Project Minotaur." Knight snorted, shaking her head. "Oh, sweetheart, that?" Her voice dripped with amusement. "Digging through daddy¡¯s leftovers again?" I clenched my jaw. "Just answer the question." She let out a slow, exaggerated sigh and pushed off the console. "Fine, fine. Minotaur was supposed to be power armor for all the fragile little meatbags who couldn¡¯t handle real enhancements. A suit strong enough to rival the Royal Guard¡ªif the pilot survived the integration." I frowned. "If?" "Oh yes." She grinned, sharp and knowing. "Your father didn¡¯t just run simulations¡ªhe ran trials. Real trials. Dozens of them. Every single one failed. Normal humans? Flattened. Bones crushed, organs liquefied, neural pathways fried. Even cybernetics weren¡¯t enough to handle the strain. The suit¡¯s output was just too much." She flicked her fingers like it was nothing. "So he scrapped it. Didn¡¯t need it anyway. Why build a suit when you can just make better soldiers from the ground up?" A knot tightened in my stomach. "Then why did he keep the designs?" Knight tilted her head. "Because your father never really threw anything away. And because he knew there was one person who might be able to handle it." I felt my hands curl into fists. "Me." Her smirk widened. "Ding ding ding. You¡¯re not normal, Phoenix. Your body¡¯s already something else¡ªa perfect little pet project, a legacy in the flesh." She waved a hand at me like I was a science exhibit. "The virus, the regeneration, the density of your bones¡ªmaybe you could survive it. Or maybe it would tear you apart like the others, but we both know the difference." Her grin turned razor-sharp. "You¡¯d just heal anyway." The way she said it made my skin crawl¡ªthe same way she had when I was a child strapped to her table, when I was just another one of her experiments. And later, when she tested the accelerant on me, she had looked at me the same way. Like I wasn¡¯t a person. Just data. Just proof of concept. I still wanted to gut her for that. For all of it. But I couldn¡¯t. Not yet. I swallowed the frustration rising in my throat. "If Minotaur was supposed to be so powerful, why didn¡¯t the Royal Guard use it?" Knight smirked like I¡¯d just asked something painfully obvious. "Oh, they did¡­ or rather, they were the successor to it." I blinked. "What?" "They didn¡¯t need Minotaur because they became the suit." She flicked her fingers dismissively, as if the distinction hardly mattered. "Their cybernetics aren¡¯t just implants¡ªthey¡¯re fused. Woven into their nervous systems, their bones, their cells. And their suits? Fused right back into them. There¡¯s no separation. No taking it off. Not ever." A cold weight settled in my gut. "They¡¯re fused to it?" Knight gave a slow nod, eyes gleaming. "Permanently. No separation. No breathing room. No freedom. Their suits aren¡¯t something they wear¡ªthey are the suit. Lion, Wolf, Eagle, all of them? They didn¡¯t get an upgrade. They got rewritten from the inside out." I swallowed hard. I had seen Lion without his helmet, but now that I thought about it¡­ I had never seen him without the rest of his armor. Not fully. "So that¡¯s how Lion stays alive..." I exhaled. "But I¡¯ve been wondering this¡ªmy eyes are red and blue. But Lion¡¯s one remaining eye?" I hesitated. "It¡¯s yellow. Same as my father¡¯s were, before¡ª" Knight tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "Because they weren¡¯t perfect hosts. But they still bonded to the virus." I frowned. "But I thought it was tailored to my DNA¡ª" Knight clicked her tongue. "And yet both are male relatives with an X chromosome close enough to yours to carry Phoenix, sure. It clings to them, uses them. But it doesn¡¯t merge like it does with you. It fights them. Lion¡¯s body is constantly at war with it, same as your father¡¯s was before he shed it completely." Her silver eyes gleamed. "The yellow is the warning sign. The body rejecting the virus, struggling to keep up with the strain." I exhaled sharply, my mind circling back. "Then why were Wilks¡¯ eyes red? Like mine?" Knight¡¯s smirk widened like she¡¯d been waiting for me to ask. "Because he didn¡¯t just have Phoenix. He had Hydra too." A chill ran down my spine. "Hydra?" The memory of Lab 3 flashed in my mind¡ªWilks. The monster he had become before Lion put him down for good. I could still see it. The way his body had twisted, regenerated wrong. The way his eyes burned red in the dark, filled with something else. Something beyond pain. Beyond humanity. He hadn¡¯t just died¡ªhe had refused to. Over and over again, his body forcing itself back together in grotesque, impossible ways. Knight watched me, her smirk curling like she knew exactly what I was thinking. She waved a hand lazily. "Oh, don¡¯t get all worked up about that. Hydra was just an early variation of the accelerant we made¡ªwhat let your father cling to life long enough to finish what he started." She chuckled, slow and knowing. "That was Project Chimera, sweet girl. But you already knew that, didn¡¯t you?" I clenched my jaw. "And Minotaur?" Knight leaned back, stretching like this was all just entertainment to her. "Now that¡¯s the real question, isn¡¯t it?" I stiffened. She smirked. "Go ask your father." My jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached. Knight just patted my cheek lightly¡ªcondescending, infuriating¡ªand turned back to the drone. "Good talk, My dear daughter. Now run along. Some of us have actual work to do." I turned on my heel and walked away before I could punch her in the face. I hated her. I hated the way she knew things I didn¡¯t, the way she dripped condescension in every word, the way she dangled answers just out of reach. But she wasn¡¯t wrong. I exhaled sharply, pressing my palm to the nearest wall. "Jericho," I muttered. "Tell me about Project Minotaur." A pause. A flicker in the lights. A soft hum as the ship processed my words. "It was abandoned." "Why?" I hesitated. "Was Knight telling the truth?" "Yes, It is as your mother said..." Jericho¡¯s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "No human could survive it. The power required would tear the pilot apart from the inside. Bones shattered. Muscles torn. The strain was too great." I tensed, my jaw tightening. I met the nearest drone¡¯s cold, mechanical eye. "Don''t fucking call her that." Another pause. A hum, almost contemplative. "But... I can survive it... I want you to help me finish it." I ground my teeth. You were never meant to fight like them. The armor is a cage, a pointless shell. You cannot break, your flesh renews, your claws carve deeper than steel. A hammer does not need a blade, and you¡­ You already have a hammer. A lion bred for war, a beast that knows no fear, no hesitation. He kills so you don¡¯t have to. He breaks them so you remain whole. And yet¡­ I always knew. One day, you would crave more. A breath. A whisper sliding between thought and instinct, curling through my skull like smoke. My father¡¯s voice. Or the virus itself. The line between them had blurred long ago. The long pause finally ended, and Jericho spoke, his voice mirroring the one in my head. Neither truly him. "Yes, you very well could. If this is what you want, little phoenix, I will dedicate one percent of my computing power to assisting you in its completion." One percent. It didn¡¯t sound like much. But on a ship like Jericho, it was more than I needed. So I started my work in Lab 2 after Jericho brought me what it had so far. The suit wasn¡¯t finished. Not even close. It was nothing more than an exo-frame, skeletal and raw, a half-built machine strapped to my body with no plating, no armor, no helmet¡ªjust servos, actuators, and reinforced joints wrapped in exposed wiring. It had no weapons, no integrated targeting systems, none of the refinements that would make it battlefield-ready. But none of that mattered. Right now, the only thing that mattered was surviving it. I flexed my fingers inside the gauntlets, feeling the unnatural strength humming through my limbs, the servos responding to every twitch with brutal precision. My bones were already denser than most¡ªheavier, thicker, reinforced by the virus. On paper, I should have weighed maybe a hundred pounds, but in reality, I was closer to four hundred. My body was compact, my frame small, my curves fitting weirdly into the suit¡¯s rigid structure. It wasn¡¯t designed for someone like me. The first step I took sent me flying. The suit¡¯s servos reacted too fast, faster than my nerves could process. A simple shift became a violent lurch, like trying to pilot a ship at full thrust with no stabilizers. I barely had time to register the movement before my head slammed into the reinforced bulkhead. CRACK. My skull split open like glass, my vision cutting out instantly. My momentum carried my body forward, leaving a wet smear of blood and brain matter streaked across the cold metal. There was no time to react. No time to process. Just black. Nothingness swallowed me whole. I didn¡¯t know how long I was gone. Seconds? Minutes? I came back gasping, lungs convulsing as my body dragged itself out of death. A high-pitched ringing consumed my ears, deafening and sharp, like my brain had been reset and couldn¡¯t quite catch up. My vision flickered, colors warping as my skull pulled itself back together. Bone scraped against bone, muscles stitched into place, the torn mess of my head reforming piece by agonizing piece. I twitched, still disoriented, still unsure if my body would even respond. It did. Barely. Jericho¡¯s voice cut through the haze. "Your body lacks the necessary neural adaptation. Additional training is required before attempting synchronization." I swallowed the blood in my mouth and shoved myself up. I barely had time to brace before the second test began. This time, I lasted longer. My first steps were shaky, but they were mine. My body adapted, adjusted, until I was moving with something close to control. The power in the suit was intoxicating¡ªevery motion effortless, amplified to monstrous strength. I could feel it thrumming through me, responding like a second skin. Then the servos overcorrected. My legs snapped. Not a clean break. The bones shattered, splintering under the force as I collapsed to the floor. I caught myself on instinct, but my hands barely had time to brace before my wrists buckled under the strain. A shockwave of pain shot up my spine. I choked on my own breath, every nerve screaming, but already my body was pulling itself back together. It always did. By the third test, my blood had slicked the floor. The servos were still too fast. Too strong. A simple movement¡ªgo¡ªmeant launching forward. Lift meant muscle tearing from bone. I moved with more control this time, but the power was relentless, the force behind every step just barely within my grasp. I ran from one side of Lab 2 to the other, the world blurring¡ª And then I hit the wall. Not crashed. Not stumbled. Hit. The impact buckled the reinforced bulkhead. My spine snapped in half. The pain should have been unbearable, should have sent me into shock. But I felt everything. I was still awake. I couldn¡¯t move. The paralysis set in instantly, my body refusing to obey, my lungs frozen mid-gasp. I twitched, fingers grasping at the floor, a sharp, stuttering movement¡ªthen another. My nerves fired at random, muscles convulsing, bones shifting wrong. My throat spasmed, trying to form a sound¡ªa scream¡ªbut nothing came. Half a minute. That¡¯s how long it took before I felt my spine reattach itself, the broken vertebrae pulling together like frayed threads being sewn back into place. Sensation flooded through my body all at once, pain exploding in a white-hot wave as my limbs jerked back to life. I gasped, choking on the pain. Jericho¡¯s voice cut through the pounding in my skull. "Adjustment noted. Reducing response speed by twelve percent." I clenched my fists, my hands still shaking, still twitching as the last echoes of pain bled away. I exhaled, pressing my palms against the cold floor, forcing my body to move. Every nerve screamed. Every muscle protested. But I pushed myself up anyway. I wasn¡¯t done. Jericho¡¯s voice hummed overhead, calm, clinical. ¡°Your body will adapt. But not immediately. This will take time.¡± Time. I didn¡¯t have time. But I didn¡¯t have a choice, either. The fourth test was better. The fifth, better still. Each time, my body broke, but it also learned. Adapted. Adjusted. My bones thickened. My muscles reinforced. I didn¡¯t need my father¡¯s nanites¡ªI was already something else. Something built to survive. But power without control is just chaos. And that was all this was. I hated how my body fit into the suit¡ªtoo small, too wrong, not meant for war. The exo-frame was built for efficiency, not comfort. The reinforced skeletal structure bit into my ribs and hips, locking in ways that made my movements feel stiff, unnatural. Every step felt exaggerated, every shift amplified by the servos, turning the smallest motion into something sharp and inhuman. The bodysuit beneath it? It may as well have been nothing. It clung to me, stretched too tight, offering no protection, no buffer against the machine digging into my flesh. Every jolt sent an uncomfortable ripple through my chest, a reminder of how fucking wrong this body was for war. Knight. Of all the changes she had made to me, this was the one I hated the most. She hadn¡¯t built me to fight. She hadn¡¯t carved me into a weapon like the Royal Guard. No, she had built me to be beautiful. Something flawless. Something wanted. A legacy wrapped in porcelain skin and soft curves, a pretty little Phoenix meant to carry my father¡¯s work in the most primitive, disgusting way possible. Through my womb. My breath came sharp, ragged. I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat. Is that all I was supposed to be? All of this¡ªeverything I had suffered, everything I had survived¡ªwas it just to ensure I was useful? That all my strength, all my suffering, meant nothing compared to the ability to spread my legs and breed a new generation of perfect little experiments? The whispers stirred, smooth and indulgent. You are more than her. More than what she made you. I snarled, throwing a punch into the reinforced bulkhead hard enough to dent the steel, servos whining under the sudden force. My knuckles throbbed. Blood smeared across the metal. I let it drip. I let the pain anchor me, keep me from spiraling too deep into the sickness curling in my gut. No. Fuck that. I wasn¡¯t her. I wouldn¡¯t be her. I wasn¡¯t going to be my father¡¯s experiment, or Knight¡¯s ideal, or anyone¡¯s fucking pawn. I wasn¡¯t made for war, but I would make myself a weapon. I wasn¡¯t built for battle, but I would fight anyway. If this body wasn¡¯t meant for combat, then I would force it into the mold myself¡ªbreak and rebuild until it fit, until it was mine. The hunger stirred beneath my skin. By the tenth attempt, I wasn¡¯t breaking anymore. By the fifteenth, I was fighting. And by the twentieth? I was winning. I ignored the pain. Even as my body screamed, even as I sobbed and howled and clawed my way forward, I refused to break even if my body did. Tears streaked my face, mixing with blood and mucus. My throat was raw, save for the burn of liquor. My mental health had gone to shit, but that didn¡¯t matter. Because I wasn¡¯t just fighting the suit. I was fighting them. Knight. My father. The experiments. The memories. The ghosts that haunted me. I was fighting everything they had done to me. I clenched my fists, servos whining under the pressure, blood pooling beneath my nails as my claws bit into my palms. My suit¡ªhalf-built, skeletal, a monstrous exo-frame¡ªhummed with unnatural power, responding in perfect sync. I exhaled. For the first time since waking in that goddamn cryo-pod, I had an edge. Not borrowed strength. Not a curse disguised as evolution. Not a gift forced upon me. Something I had taken. Something I had built. It still wasn¡¯t enough. But it was a just the beginning. The last test was different. Jericho had tweaked the weight distribution, adjusting the gyro-stabilization so I wouldn¡¯t overcorrect every time I moved. It was better. Smoother. The violent lurches from earlier tests were gone, replaced by something close to balance. I flexed my fingers, feeling the servos respond, the weight of the exo-frame settling into something almost natural. Almost. "Alright, Jericho. I need to test this thing in a fight now that I can move without crashing." There was a pause. Then, the AI¡¯s voice hummed through the speakers, calm but firm. "Are you sure, little Phoenix? You have lost a considerable amount of biomass and appear to be under psychological distress. I would recommend taking a break, eating, and checking in with Dr. Yates." I gritted my teeth. "Shut the hell up and do it." The drone hesitated, as if considering an argument. Then, finally¡ª "Very well. Beginning combat protocols." The doors locked with a heavy clang. The first drone dropped from the ceiling. Then another. Then a third. Their sleek metal bodies gleamed under the dim lights, plasma weapons whirring to life as they closed in. I barely had time to react before the first one fired. A concussive blast slammed into my chest, sending me skidding back, my boots carving deep grooves into the reinforced floor. I dug in, bracing, the exo-frame compensating for the impact faster than my brain could process it. Then the second blast came. Then the third. The drones moved fast, erratic, their attack patterns randomized, designed to disorient. But I wasn¡¯t disoriented. My body adjusted instinctively, each impact teaching me how to shift, how to absorb, how to redirect. I dodged. Weaved. Struck back. The first time I hit something with the suit¡ªtruly hit it¡ªit wasn¡¯t just power. It was annihilation. The drone exploded on impact, crumpling like it had been hit by a missile, debris scattering across the lab. For a second, I just stood there, breathing hard, feeling the weight of what I had just done. Then Jericho¡¯s voice hummed through the speakers. "Adequate. But incomplete. You are still inefficient." More drones activated and this time, I was ready. The fight was a blur of movement, of crushing impacts, of raw, unfiltered power tearing through everything in my path. The suit turned me into something more, something that could rip through metal and withstand direct blows without faltering. When the last drone fell, sparking and broken at my feet, I finally exhaled. My hands shook, not from exhaustion, but from adrenaline. I had been looking for a way to match the Royal Guard. A way to even the playing field. This alone wasn¡¯t enough¡­ but it was a start. "Da... Jericho, it''s time to make the weapons and armor. And keep your fucking AI out of it. I want this to be fully independent for once. I don¡¯t want you in my suit, got it." There was a pause, just long enough to make my teeth clench. "That can be done," Jericho finally responded, his voice as clinical as ever. "However, I would not recommend it. You will lose access to real-time tactical calculations, predictive combat analytics, and the adaptive combat protocols that make the Royal Guard the most dangerous soldiers in existence." "No," I snapped. "I don¡¯t need all that. Just give me a localized unit to handle weapons, shields, and nanos. That¡¯s it." Another pause. "Understood. A level-three intelligence will be installed to manage the requested systems. It will not have access to my primary network." Good. If Jericho ever decided to pull the plug, he wouldn¡¯t be able to shut me down with a thought. I would still have control. This would be mine. "What will you name it?" I hesitated. Just for a second. "Valicar." The name felt right. A memory, half-faded, of a book I had read a long time ago. A pair of twins, one a sharp-witted mage, the other a swordsman too stubborn to know when to quit. They had been reincarnated into another world¡ªreborn as a beautiful girl with red and blue hair, red and blue eyes. Just like me. Valicar had been fearless. Wild. Brave to the point of madness. She had fought against the world and won. She had talked to herself, a legend wrapped in chaos. I huffed a quiet laugh. The whispers are my only company. Lion, my only brother. It fits. "Designation accepted," Jericho confirmed. "Local AI intelligence, Valicar, initialized. Tactical and combat support protocols active." A soft chime followed, and then a new voice spoke¡ªsmooth, calm, but different from Jericho¡¯s. Lighter. "Online and awaiting directives." I exhaled. This one was mine. "You''re with me now, Valicar. Let¡¯s get to work." A month had passed. Most of my time was spent down here, training, forging, building. If I wasn¡¯t fighting, I was working. If I wasn¡¯t working, I was drinking. It kept the hunger at bay, kept the whispers from creeping in too deep. Rum helped. Food helped more. But neither were perfect solutions. Reid still slept. Yates checked on him every day, running scans, monitoring vitals, always saying the same damn thing¡ª"He should be awake." But he wasn¡¯t. Two months now, and still, nothing. It was starting to feel like he never would. Knight and my father¡ªJericho¡ªwere still buried in their work in Lab 3. No one knew what they were really doing, and that made me nervous. But what could I do? It was my father. The ship itself. There was no stopping him. No questioning him. Even now, with my suit, my training, my independence¡ªthis was still his domain. So I focused on what I could control. I ran into Jimmy more often than I expected. He was still our general laborer, but now, with his new cybernetic leg, he seemed almost grateful instead of resentful. He had been one of Garin¡¯s lackeys before, always trying to impress him, always too eager to fall in line. But after the Hemlock, after I led the Royal Guard to save his ass, he had changed. He didn¡¯t suck up to me, didn¡¯t treat me like some hero, but he wasn¡¯t avoiding me anymore, either. He was useful, too. Knew where to find the parts I needed, told me what I could salvage from the 3D printers, what had to be made fresh in the forges. He didn¡¯t ask too many questions, just gave me the information I needed and let me work. And Holt? Holt was quiet, as always, but I caught him watching Wolf more than once. I had no idea what their history was, but they had fought together at some point¡ªprobably during the South American Decapitation, though I never asked. It didn¡¯t matter. Wolf made the others nervous, especially Warren, Vega, and Garin. But no one thought they could actually fight him. Even Garin, for all his arrogance, knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to kill Wolf if it came down to it. A gun wouldn¡¯t be enough. Nothing short of a nuke would. And even then, I wasn¡¯t sure. Wolf had no reason to betray us. He had no reason to kill anyone. But that didn¡¯t make him safe. It just meant we were lucky he still had orders to follow. Lucky that, for now, those orders were mine. I leaned back against the workbench, taking another swig from my stolen stash of Blackwell and Rojas¡¯ liquor. The last Caribbean run from Earth. The last bottle Cuba would ever make. "Thanks, assholes," I muttered, raising the bottle in mock toast. "Thanks for saving the best for me." I took another drink before setting the bottle down and returning to my work. The claws were the last part to finish. One for each hand, plasma blades a foot long, sharp enough to cut through steel. They ignited with a flick of my fingers, burning white-hot, reacting to the smallest movement. Open my hand, they retracted. Close my fist, they roared back to life. No accidents. No wasted energy. Perfect. I flexed my fingers, watching the glow fade, and let out a slow breath. The suit was finally coming together. Plasma claws weren¡¯t enough, though. I needed more. This suit wasn¡¯t built for defense¡ªit was made to hit first, hit fast, and hit hard. Speed and aggression. Movement and brutality. That was the goal. That was me. The plasma pistols were next. Twin sidearms, compact, quick to draw, meant for precision. I wasn¡¯t the best shot, but I didn¡¯t have to be. "Auto-targeting calibrated. Neural reaction speed: optimal," Valicar confirmed in my ear, her voice smooth and controlled. With her guiding my aim, I wasn¡¯t just a decent shot. I was perfect. I added a flamethrower, built into the forearm gauntlets. Short range, meant for clearing tight spaces. If the claws weren¡¯t enough to tear through something, fire would do the rest. Grappling hooks, mounted in my wrists, gave me the ability to maneuver mid-air, to drag enemies toward me if they tried to run. A back-mounted missile launcher, small but deadly, capable of firing micro-missiles that could punch through most armor. Not as powerful as the Guard¡¯s heavier ordinance, but it didn¡¯t need to be. It was there to disrupt, to open weaknesses where I needed them. For defense¡ªplasma shielding, but only in bursts. I wasn¡¯t built to tank hits like Lion or the others. I¡¯d take a blow if I had to, but I¡¯d rather not get hit at all. The fusion core and power storage in my suit were far smaller than those used by the Royal Guard. Their armor was built for prolonged combat, to withstand relentless fire without faltering. Mine wasn¡¯t. I was only five feet tall¡ªfive foot two with the armor¡ªa stark contrast to the towering nine-foot giants engineered for war. My suit couldn¡¯t house the same power reserves, couldn¡¯t afford the constant drain of active shielding. That¡¯s where the thrusters came in¡ªbuilt into the boots and back, designed for short, controlled bursts. Not true flight. Just quick, sharp movements. Just enough to dodge. Just enough to reposition. Just enough to make sure that when I hit, I hit first. I exhaled as the final diagnostics ran, feeling the suit hum around me, the weight settling just right. This wasn¡¯t an exo-frame anymore. This was mine. It had the basic weapons I wanted, the foundation laid with room for more¡ªroom to evolve. It wasn¡¯t finished, but neither was I. But before I could call it complete, there was one last problem. My hair. Long, white strands flowed down my back, too much for the helmet to seal properly. At first, it had been a problem¡ªa flaw, an exposed weakness waiting to be exploited. But Valicar had adapted. Localized nanites, woven into every strand, reinforced my hair at the molecular level, binding it seamlessly to the suit¡¯s structure. When the helmet sealed, the nanites responded instantly, deploying an adaptive mesh¡ªan interlocking molecular barrier that shaped itself around each strand, ensuring an airtight seal while maintaining flexibility. It wasn¡¯t a rigid clamp but something smarter, shifting and adjusting in real-time, filling microscopic gaps like a living weave. And the hair itself? It wasn¡¯t just hair anymore. The nanites had rebuilt it, weaving carbon nanotube filaments into the natural keratin, strengthening it beyond anything organic. It wasn¡¯t metallic, wasn¡¯t stiff, but it could endure vacuum, resist fire, and disperse kinetic force like microfilament shields. Stronger than steel, yet impossibly light, it had become an extension of my armor¡ªan integrated defense rather than a liability. But the real effect¡ªthe thing that made it unnatural¡ªwas the light. A microscopic crystalline lattice had formed within each strand during the nanite infusion, catching and refracting even the faintest glow. It didn¡¯t shine like metal or mirror artificial plating. It was something else. Something alive. Like starlight on snow. Like silver caught mid-motion in a beam of light. Each strand pulsed faintly with microscopic energy flows, a shifting shimmer rather than a glow, like distant constellations scattered through white silk. My armor¡ªred, blue, streaked with white¡ªwas striking in ways I hadn¡¯t intended. But nothing about its plating could distract me from what lay beneath. The whispers stirred. A queen has no place on the front line. I bared my fangs, shoving back against them. I can be wherever the fuck I want. And aren¡¯t you the one always telling me I should feast on my enemies? Laughter rippled through my skull, a sick amusement curling through my mind like smoke. Let the Guard kill them. Let the Royal Dogs rip them apart. That¡¯s what they¡¯re made for. A slow, deliberate chuckle. Knight might have made you the perfect little doll, but you shouldn¡¯t play dress-up. I growled, low in my throat, feeling my claws flex involuntarily. The hunger coiled tight, always waiting, always patient. Knight had made this body wrong. She had designed me to be soft when I should have been steel. I exhaled sharply, forcing the whispers down, locking them away in the deep, gnawing pit of hunger where they belonged. My resolve hardened. I clenched my fist, plasma claws igniting with a sharp hiss. The suit moved with me, responding in perfect sync. "Simulated enemy units loaded," Valicar reported. "Awaiting confirmation." Drones wouldn¡¯t be enough. Not anymore. I needed something faster. Stronger. Something that could kill me if I fucked up. There was only one man on this ship built for that. I could feel my pulse, steady, controlled. "Run it." The doors locked. The drones activated. And then, Wolf stepped out. His twin daggers flared to life, glowing with plasma, the heat shimmering in the air between us. He rolled his shoulders, his expression unreadable beneath the faint flicker of light against his pale features. "Ready for this, Highness?" His voice was amused, but there was an edge beneath it. "You know I won¡¯t hold back like when you were a child." A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "I know you won¡¯t, Wolf. That¡¯s why I picked you." I flexed my fingers, my own claws hissing back to life, ten searing points of light at my fingertips. "But know this¡ªif you did hold back, you¡¯d die." My claws met his knives in a flash of white-hot plasma. And the fight began. Chapter 24 : The Hunger Is My Crown Blades clashed¡ªwhite-hot plasma against burning steel. Wolf moved first, breaking our stalemate. A blur of motion, faster than human eyes could track. My thrusters flared, launching me back just in time. His dagger slashed through empty air where my throat had been. I countered immediately. A hard spin, claws carving through the space between us. He ducked low, sidestepped¡ª Too predictable. Then came the second strike. My plasma shield flared to life just as his blade came down. The collision sent a shockwave through my armor, triggering a pulse of warning through my HUD. "Shields at 82%," Valicar reported. Too close. I launched forward, thrusters roaring, twisting through the air to close the gap before he could reset. A split-second decision¡ªI fired my grappling hook, aiming for his chest. Wolf¡¯s blade flashed, slicing through the cable before it could latch, severing it in a single effortless motion. He didn¡¯t falter. Shit. I thought bitterly. That won''t work on him. Wolf was massive-twice my height, four times my weight, yet he moved like a ghost, impossibly nimble for something so big. His reach with those daggers was absurd, faster than I could keep up with even with my claws. Every strike came down like a hammer, precise, relentless. I should''ve made a plasma sword. The thought burned through my mind as I barely twisted out of the way of another swipe, the air hissing with the heat of his blade. Giving up on the grappling hook¡ª for now-I shifted my focus. I''d have to fight up close. My claws lashed out, aiming for his side. Fast. Aggressive. Not testing, not probing¡ªstriking. This time, I hit. Or at least, I should have. His shields surged, absorbing the impact. Wolf didn¡¯t hesitate. Didn¡¯t react. His counterattack was instant. I barely dodged the first swipe. The second nearly took my head off. The third? "Deploying secondary shield!" The barrier flared as his blade struck, the impact ripping through my suit''s defenses and sent me flying. I corrected mid-air, thrusters firing, pushing myself upright¡ª And then, Wolf disappeared. Cloaking. I gritted my teeth. Not good. "Shields at 48%," Valicar warned. "Current recharge rate: insufficient." Too soon. Too much damage. I pivoted fast, scanning, tracking¡ª A flicker of movement. I whipped around just as Wolf reappeared, his dagger streaking toward my stomach. I twisted, barely shifting out of the way¡ª But not fast enough. The dagger carved through my side, a searing, white-hot line of pain. My shields flickered, too slow to block the strike. "Warning: Critical damage sustained." I snarled, driving my knee up toward his ribs. He blocked effortlessly, grabbed my leg¡ª And sliced it clean off. A flash of burning pain. My balance vanished. I crashed to the ground, gasping. Wolf exhaled, tilting his head. "Fast," he admitted. "But not fast enough." No time to think. No time to panic. My hair snapped forward, strands moving with precise, unnatural intent-nanites woven through each filament, acting as an extension of my will. They coiled around my severed leg, dragging it back into alignment, holding it steady as the virus surged through my cells, forcing regeneration at an agonizing pace. I felt every nerve reknit, every muscle thread itself back together, the jagged edges of bone grinding as they fused. My flesh burned, ice and fire colliding beneath my skin, while the suit''s repair systems worked in tandem-nanites sealing breaches, reconnecting severed plating, reattaching servos to living tissue. The process wasn''t seamless. It wasn''t clean. But within seconds, I was whole again-flesh and steel, body and armor, bound together as one. Whole again. "Structural integrity restored. Suit functions nominal. Recommending immediate counterattack." I flexed my foot. Good as new. Wolf watched, cold calculation behind his visor. "Impressive." I launched forward before he could react. My claws slashed toward his chest¡ª His shield flared, deflecting the blow. I growled in frustration. Then¡ªpain. White-hot, searing, spreading through my entire torso. His dagger buried itself deep between my ribs, the plasma blade humming as it pierced flesh and muscle, searing everything in its path. My lungs locked up instantly. The heat radiated outward, a slow, agonizing burn cooking me from the inside. I couldn¡¯t breathe. The smell of burning meat¡ªmy meat¡ªfilled my helmet. Wolf leaned in slightly, his voice calm. "Hard to kill," he murmured, "but easy to incapacitate." I choked, vision swimming, body convulsing, every nerve screaming. My lungs shriveled, boiled, no longer functioning¡ªoxygen cut off, the pain sharp and endless. "Warning: Oxygen deprivation detected. Immediate counterattack required." Fuck, Move. Move. FUCKING MOVE. The whispers laughed, slithering through my mind like smoke. Show him, little Phoenix. For you are not fireproof¡ªbut you will always rise again from the ashes. My free hand lashed out, fingers curled into a tight spear. All five points struck as one¡ªpure, concentrated force, biological strength fused with mechanical precision. My bones cracked under the pressure, muscles tearing, servos groaning as Valicar pushed them past their limits¡ª120 percent output. For a fraction of a second, Wolf¡¯s shield held. Then¡ªa tiny rupture. A hole, no larger than a fist, but enough. Through that opening, I let hell loose. My wrist mounted flamethrower roared to life, a torrent of white-hot fire bursting through the breach, slipping past the shield¡¯s failing integrity and searing into the silver armor beneath. Wolf jerked back, his stance shifting just slightly as the flames licked across his plating, yanking his dagger free from my ribs as he moved. I sucked in a breath, my body already healing, organs knitting themselves back together as I stared at the damage. It wasn¡¯t much. It wouldn¡¯t kill him. But for the first time, his armor wasn¡¯t untouched. The silver plating darkened, scorched, marred by something other than a Royal Guard¡¯s blade. Barely anything. A scratch. But a scratch was more than anyone had ever left on him before. Wolf went still. His red visor flickered slightly, processing. Considering. Then, slowly¡ªhe chuckled. "Well," he murmured, rolling his shoulders, the burn marks catching the dim light. "That¡¯s new." His stance shifted, subtle but telling. Less relaxed. More deliberate. Like he¡¯d finally decided to take this seriously. Good. I thought. I didn¡¯t let up. No hesitation. No room to breathe. Just relentless, unyielding aggression. I launched forward, thrusters roaring, plasma claws carving through the air in a flurry of strikes. I was adapting¡ªfaster, sharper. My body was syncing with the suit, learning its weight, its speed, the way Valicar adjusted with me. Wolf met me strike for strike, blade to blade as we parried and dodged, daggers flashing in brutal counterattacks. But this time, I wasn¡¯t just reacting. I was reading him. He struck low¡ªI jumped, twisting mid-air, jet boots firing just enough to alter my trajectory. He came from the side¡ªI spun, letting the momentum carry me into a counterstrike that forced him to deflect. For the first time, he had to step back. I felt the shift. I had him. The hunger coiled deep in my gut, hot and sharp, fueling my every movement. It roared in my veins, a firestorm demanding more¡ªmore speed, more strength, more. My vision narrowed, the edges of the world sharpening to a single, undeniable truth: I could win. I lunged, plasma claws humming as I aimed for the gap under his arm¡ªthe opening in his defenses. Now that I knew my claws could pierce his shield¡ª And then¡ª He vanished. Fucking cloaking. I was too slow. Before I could react, three drones dropped from the ceiling, plasma rifles whining to full charge. Half a second to brace¡ª THWOMP! A concussive blast slammed into my chest, knocking me backward. The second shot tore through my shields, static filling my HUD. The third¡ª I hit the ground, armor screeching against steel. "Shields at 12%," Valicar warned. Not good. I ripped my plasma pistol free and fired-three perfect shots, each one finding its mark with Valicar guiding my hand. The first drone exploded in a shower of metal and fire. The second crumpled, its core blown clean through. The third managed to fire-too slow. My shot tore off its head before it could lock on. Training drones. No shields. I was lucky or maybe not. The echoes of the blasts faded. But I wasn¡¯t alone. A shadow flickered above me. Too late. My legs were swept out from under me. I crashed onto my back just as Wolf¡¯s dagger came down¡ªstraight for my face. No time. No options. "Shields recharged to 18%," Valicar reported. Enough. I didn¡¯t think¡ªI reacted. I fired my back-mounted missile launcher. Point-blank. BOOM!!! The explosion swallowed us both as my shields took the brunt of it, dropping from 18% to 4%. The shockwave sent me skidding across the training room, armor screeching against steel, warning lights flashing across my HUD. Fire and smoke rolled through the space, heat bleeding through the plating, my body aching from the impact. I forced myself up fast, unsteady for half a second before locking my stance, claws still humming, ready for whatever came next. I was still standing. Ready for his next attack. But it never came. Through the haze, Wolf emerged, his silver armor streaked with soot, the burn marks from my earlier attack still visible. His posture was loose, casual, like he hadn¡¯t just been caught in a goddamn explosion. He rolled his shoulders, shaking out the tension, before a deep, amused chuckle rumbled through his helmet¡¯s speakers. "You really are something else," he chuckled, red visor gleaming through the smoke. "That was reckless. Stupid. And completely insane." I exhaled sharply, forcing my breath to steady. My fingers flexed, ready for another round, my heart still hammering against my ribs. Was he still testing me? Then he tilted his head slightly. Considered me. "You win." I blinked. "What?" He chuckled again, sheathing his daggers with a smooth, effortless motion. "I could keep going. Could drag this fight out until you can¡¯t move anymore. But you fought like one of us. Like a Royal Guard. And that? That¡¯s a victory worth acknowledging." I was still catching my breath, body screaming, suit flickering between stability and shutdown. But I grinned, teeth bared, adrenaline still thick in my veins. "I¡¯ll take it." Wolf stepped closer, rolling his neck like he hadn¡¯t just survived a point-blank missile to the chest. "Keep training," he said. "One day, you might actually beat me¡ªespecially if you laid off the booze." Then, his tone shifted¡ªlighter, almost amused. "But before you go thinking you¡¯re hot shit, just remember¡­" He tapped a finger against my scorched chestplate. "You better kick Hyena¡¯s ass before anyone else does." I huffed out a laugh, still coming down from the sheer insanity of that last exchange. Hyena. Of course. "Deal." And with that¡ªthe fight was over. The days after blurred into a routine of work, drinking, and food-most of it still fresh and bloody. But mostly, it was just work. I refined my suit, tweaking and modifying every system that had failed in combat. The energy distribution needed adjustment¡ªplasma shielding had drained too quickly, and the servos needed faster reaction times to keep up with my speed. My grappling hook got an upgrade, reinforced with a secondary cable to prevent an easy slice-through. The missile launcher had been effective, but Valicar optimized its auto-targeting for better close-range detonation. Every change was a lesson from the fight with Wolf. Every adjustment made sure I¡¯d be faster, stronger¡ªbetter. I wasn¡¯t just repairing it. I was evolving. The hunger never fully faded, even after I had consumed protein bars and cloned animals alike. The training and battle had taken a toll on my body¡ªI was down to 200 pounds, having lost nearly half my biomass. But still, the hunger simmered in the back of my mind, gnawing at the edges of my focus. The only thing that kept it at bay was work. Work¡ªand just enough booze to dull the edges. I had avoided Garin as best I could. After what he and Knight had done to me, I wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out. Every time I saw him, the hunger flared hot, sharp, my mind flashing back to the cold, clinical cruelty of their experiments¡ªhow they stripped me down to nothing but data points, dissecting me piece by piece while I screamed. If I looked at him too long, my teeth ached, my instincts screaming to end him. So I stayed away. But Garin was always there. In the cafeteria, running his mouth. In the training bay, sparring with Holt, throwing cheap shots, always talking shit. I ignored him. I tried to ignore him. It wasn¡¯t enough. The lab doors slid open, and I didn¡¯t even have to turn to know who it was. Oil, alcohol, and metal. The acrid scent of overworked servos and sweat clung to him¡ªsomeone who thought manual labor was beneath him but had been stuck doing it anyway. And, of course, resentment. I kept my focus on the diagnostics screen, adjusting the plasma distribution in my right gauntlet. Let me guess, I drawled, you¡¯re here to congratulate me? Garin let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, absolutely. I came to personally thank you for turning the training bay into a fucking war zone. Again." I turned just enough to flash him an infuriating grin. "You¡¯re welcome." His eye twitched. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to fix that mess? The nanites don¡¯t just conjure materials out of thin air, Sol. Every chunk of metal you waste patching up your damage could¡¯ve been used for something useful¡ªlike reinforcing our battle drones for the next time we face the Rue." I shrugged. "That¡¯s the thing about demotions, Garin. You don¡¯t get to pick your assignments anymore." I leaned back in my chair, stretching. "And¡ª" my smirk sharpened, "not my problem." His scoff was sharp, venomous. "No, but everything else seems to be." His cybernetic eye flickered, scanning me like I was some kind of error in the system, some piece of corrupted code he couldn¡¯t delete. "Reid¡¯s still in a fucking coma because of you getting him mixed up with Lion, so guess who gets to do his job instead of my own?" The whisper stirred in the back of my head. He speaks as if he¡¯s worthy of taking Reid¡¯s place. I ignored it, ignoring him, keeping my expression bored. "Must be tough." His jaw flexed, anger bleeding through. "I helped build this damn ship. Designed half the systems keeping it running. I was lead scientist for fifty years." He let out a sharp breath, fists clenching at his sides. "And now? Now I¡¯m just another grunt, stuck running maintenance, cleaning up your mess, fixing the wreckage you leave behind¡ªwhile you sit here, playing with your fucking toys, all because Knight rode in on your daddy¡¯s lap and took my job." I tilted my head, smirk widening. "Sounds like a you problem." His fists clenched, his cybernetic eye twitching. "Do you even realize how much you take? Unlimited rations, unlimited resources, all the materials you could ever want to tweak your little projects, while the rest of us fight for scraps just to keep this ship running. You eat through rations like a fucking black hole. Half our cloned livestock is gone because of you. We used to get real meat sometimes, but now? Now it all goes straight to you." He let out a sharp breath, his voice sharp with resentment. "And don''t get me started on your drinking. I still get some¡ª but barely. Just a few sips here and there, because the captains are cutting back to make sure you stay drunk and complacent. Wouldn''t want their little monster getting ideas, right?" His smirk twisted, fists clenching. "I built half this damn ship, and now I''m stuck leeching off my own assistant¡¯s rations like some pathetic parasite." His lip curled. "And no one says a damn thing to you¡ªbecause your daddy is the ship." He was right. But I couldn¡¯t let him know that. So I stretched lazily, making a show of it, letting my arms drape over the chair like I didn¡¯t have a care in the world. My voice was sickly sweet, dripping with mockery. "Perks of being humanity¡¯s princess." His jaw cracked with how hard he clenched it. "You hate that, don¡¯t you?" I mused. "That I can do whatever the fuck I want, while you¡ª" I waved vaguely at him. "You¡¯re stuck running diagnostics like an intern." His breathing sharpened. "I should be in your seat. Not you. You didn¡¯t earn this. You didn¡¯t even want it. You¡¯re just a fucking accident with the right DNA." I smirked, but it was razor-thin now. "And yet, here we are." The whisper purred. Break him. Garin exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You maybe the reason the captains are still in control, or so you claim. But we all know who¡¯s really running the show." His eyes narrowed. "Your father. Knight. Whatever the hell they¡¯re doing in Lab 3." I kept the smirk up, but my fingers dug into the armrest of my chair. "Once we find a way to bypass your father¡¯s living code?" His voice was ice now. "You¡¯re done. No more Voss dynasty. No more bloodline bullshit. No more you." I held his glare, but my vision narrowed. "Yeah? And until that day comes, you get to keep fixing my training room and running my diagnostics while I do whatever the fuck I want." His eye flickered, scanning me. Calculating. Then, his gaze dragged lower. Slow. Assessing. And when he looked back up, his smirk was cruel. "Well," he mused, voice lowering. "I guess you¡¯re good for one thing at least." His eyes dragged over me again, the implication curling in his words. "Eye candy." The whisper curled around my mind like smoke, slithering through the cracks. He underestimates you. Something in me snapped. Garin saw it. And he pushed. "You might be a parasite," he murmured. "But at least you¡¯re a pretty one." He let it sit. Then, just loud enough for me to hear¡ª "Just like your mother." A cold spike of rage shot down my spine. The whisper turned into a roar. Rip his throat out. I was out of my chair before I even registered moving. One second, I was lounging, playing the part of the unbothered little princess¡ª The next, I was in front of him. Too fast. Too aggressive. But I held back. Barely. His smirk barely faltered. He thought he had me. Thought he won. I leaned in slightly, my voice low, even. "If you ever call that bitch my mother again, I¡¯ll kill you, now fuck off." For the first time, he hesitated. Then he smiled. Not smug. Not victorious. Something sharp. Something knowing. "So you do hate her as much as I do," he muttered. "It was nice when we had you under our scalpels." Heat crawled up my spine, my jaw tightening, my muscles coiled like wire. His smirk faltered. Just slightly. His throat bobbed in a hard swallow before he turned toward the door. But just before leaving, he threw one last look over his shoulder, voice mocking. "Whatever your father is making down there? That¡¯s on you, Sol." He exhaled sharply. "I knew Julian Voss. He was a brilliant man. But I¡¯ve studied AI my entire life, and if there¡¯s one thing I do know?" His glare bore into me, that glowing eye. Scanning me. "The thing controlling this ship?" He shook his head, voice dipping lower. "It¡¯s not Julian Voss." A pause. "And it¡¯s sure as hell not your father." Then he was gone. I exhaled slowly, my hands shaking from the sheer force of holding back. The whisper coiled tighter, purring in my skull. He doesn¡¯t deserve to walk away. I clenched my teeth, shutting it out. Let him think he won. Let him walk away thinking he got the last word. Because next time? I wouldn¡¯t just threaten him. A sharp ding echoed through the lab, my datapad lighting up on the counter. I blinked, my breath still ragged as I reached for it.
ROTATION SCHEDULE UPDATE A-Team Standby for Cryo Entry
Just like that, my time was up. I exhaled, biting my lip before swiping the notification away. Another alert followed¡ªa direct message from Vega. I opened it, the glowing text reflecting in my tired eyes.
FROM: Lt. Evelyn Vega TO: Sol Voss SUBJECT: Rotation Schedule Update ¨C Immediate Action Required Sol, Per command¡¯s latest scheduling update, A-Team is scheduled to return to cryo at 0800 tomorrow to allow for rotational balance and resource management. Given your unique metabolic requirements, your extended wake cycle has placed an increased strain on rations and energy reserves. While we acknowledge your contributions, continued deviation from rotation protocol is not sustainable. As such, you are required to report to the cryo bay on time¡ªand I don¡¯t want trouble like last time. Your shifts have already lasted longer than most, extended due to the Rue¡¯s attacks and the ship¡¯s constant emergency jumps. But with the Rue seemingly shaken off, command has decided to return to a normal rotation. After months of uncertainty, we are resuming course toward Haven. The council has determined that remaining adrift any longer is a waste of resources, and the ship will proceed toward its intended destination once this transition is complete. Team B will assume operational control, and Dr. Knight will be part of their rotation. Any unfinished work should be documented and transferred before the end of your shift. Use the next 24 hours to settle affairs accordingly. Do not be late. Attached: [Cryo Rotation Manifest] Lt. Evelyn Vega
The words blurred slightly as I stared at them, a tight knot settling in my chest. They were sending me back. Again. Just when I was making progress, when I¡¯d finally started optimizing my suit, when I was beginning to feel like I had some control¡ªnow, it was all getting put on pause. For nine months. I could, of course, override the order. I had the authority, the ability. But I had chosen this. I had given the council back power, and thanks to Garin¡¯s improvements, they could now communicate even while in cryo. No more blind leaps, no more power struggles while half the crew slept. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I sighed. The logic made sense. I drained more resources than anyone else, my metabolism eating through supplies at a rate the ship wasn¡¯t built to sustain long-term. It was why my rotations were shorter. Why I spent more time in cryo than awake. But knowing that didn¡¯t make it any easier to swallow. My fingers clenched against the datapad. Nine months of nothing. Nine months of silence, of frozen, empty time while the rest of the ship kept moving without me. And Knight would be staying awake. She didn¡¯t age. That much, I was certain of now. Whatever she¡¯d done to herself, it wasn¡¯t just normal gene therapy or standard enhancements. It was something deeper. Is it the same as Phoenix? Biologically, it should be able to bond to her X chromosomes. She was my genetic template, after all. That meant, theoretically, it could have taken root in her, just like it had in me. But if that was the case¡­ Why wasn¡¯t she like me? Knight looked human. More human than I ever had. No red eye. No unnatural regeneration. No insatiable hunger clawing at her insides. But she still hadn¡¯t aged. Not in centuries. She is your mother after all, my little Phoenix. The project had to start somewhere, the whispers cooed, curling around my thoughts like smoke. I exhaled sharply, shoving the thoughts¡ªand the whispers¡ªaside. I had less than a day to wrap things up before they forced me into another nine months of sleep. I needed to clear my head. There was no point in fighting what was coming. No matter how much I hated it, I was going under in the morning. So, I did what I could with the time I had left. I found Holt in the armory, exactly where I expected him to be. The smell of oiled metal and disinfectant filled the space as he methodically cleaned his sidearm, his movements sharp and practiced. He didn¡¯t look up as I approached, but I knew he heard me. ¡°Still walking straight after that fight with Wolf?¡± he muttered, setting the pistol down. I huffed. ¡°Barely.¡± He finally glanced at me, eyes scanning over my frame like he was assessing damage. ¡°You¡¯ve improved.¡± Coming from Holt, that was high praise. ¡°Yeah? Felt like I was getting my ass kicked most of the time.¡± ¡°You were,¡± he said plainly, then added, ¡°but you fought back. Harder than before.¡± Something in his tone made me pause. He wasn¡¯t just humoring me. He meant it. ¡°You¡¯re learning,¡± he continued. ¡°Next time you wake up, don¡¯t let that rust.¡± I nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± He gave a short grunt of approval and went back to cleaning his weapon. That was as much of a goodbye as I was going to get. The med bay was quiet when I arrived. Too quiet. Reid hadn¡¯t moved. Hadn¡¯t twitched. He was still the same as before¡ªstill hooked up to machines keeping him stable, still caught in whatever limbo his body refused to leave. Jimmy was already there, sitting at the foot of the bed. He didn¡¯t say anything when I walked in. He just held up a small bundle of parts in his hands¡ªsome mechanical piece he¡¯d brought from engineering. He set it on the table beside Reid, next to a growing pile of similar pieces. Offerings. As if Reid might wake up and know exactly what to do with them. I swallowed hard, stepping up beside them. Yates stood at the monitor, arms crossed, eyes locked on the readings. She didn¡¯t need to say it. I already knew. No change. ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Jimmy muttered. ¡°He¡¯s strong. Stubborn as hell. He should¡¯ve¡ª¡± He cut himself off, shaking his head. I reached out, resting a hand on Reid¡¯s arm. He felt¡­ wrong. Like he was there, but not. His body was healing. His vitals were stable. But something wasn¡¯t letting him come back. I clenched my jaw. ¡°See you when I wake up,¡± I murmured, not sure if I was saying it for him or for myself. ¡°He¡¯ll be good as new by then,¡± Yates said encouragingly. ¡°The medics on the other teams will take good care of him.¡± She hesitated, then softened. ¡°But you should take care of yourself too, Sol.¡± Her voice was quieter now, laced with something close to concern. I nodded stiffly, knowing Reid couldn¡¯t return to cryo in this state. I could only hope they¡¯d do their job. I barely met the medics from the other teams when they were awake, never bothered remembering their names¡ªbut they were responsible for him now. They better hope Yates was right. Or I¡¯d be having words with them when I woke up. "Yeah... I will," I said, forcing a smirk I didn¡¯t feel. "And he¡¯ll be cracking jokes in no time." Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away, nodding to Jimmy before turning and walking out. As I reached the doorway, I pulled my flask from my belt and took a deep, burning swig. Yates didn¡¯t say anything, but her gaze lingered, tightening with something unspoken. Jimmy, too, shifted uncomfortably, his lips pressing into a thin line as he glanced between me and the fading hope on the bed. I ignored it. The alcohol dulled the edge just enough to keep my legs moving. Just enough to keep me from turning back. I was so focused on the burn in my throat that I didn¡¯t notice the figure stepping into my path until I nearly walked straight into her. "Oh¡ªsorry!" Ashly yelped, flinching back, her datapad clutched tight against her chest. I stepped back, steadying myself. "No, that one''s on me." Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but she still looked uneasy, fingers gripping the pad tightly. She hesitated, glancing at my flask before quickly looking away. "For a second, I thought you were Garin," she muttered. I frowned. "What?" She shifted awkwardly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "The smell. It¡¯s¡­ never mind." "What about it?" Another pause before she sighed. "He''s been drinking. Since this morning. A lot." That made me stop. "Garin? He was just bitching about rations earlier." She nodded. "I know. That''s why it''s bad. He even took my share... not that I drink." l exhaled, rubbing my temple. "Let me guess¡ªhe''s been an even bigger asshole than usual?" Ashly hesitated, giving a small, uneasy shrug. "He''s... been worse. We''ve all noticed." "Yeah, well, no offense, but the guy¡¯s a dick even when he¡¯s sober," I muttered, shaking my head. "I don¡¯t know why anyone puts up with him." Her fingers tensed slightly against the datapad, her gaze dropping for a second before she answered. "Because he¡¯s not just that. He¡¯s difficult, yeah. Harsh. And sometimes cruel. But he wasn¡¯t always this way." I snorted. "Sure. And maybe if you dig deep enough, the void¡¯s got a soft side." She didn¡¯t laugh. Instead, she looked at me¡ªreally looked at me¡ªbefore saying quietly, "We all deserve second chances, don¡¯t we?" That stopped me cold. Because all I could think about was the crack of bone under my grip, the way she fell to the floor, the pained gasp, the stunned silence afterward. The way she had looked at me¡ªnot just with fear, but with something worse. And then¡ªhow she had still forgiven me. Even after that, after everything, she had still stood by Reid when Warren locked me up for it. Still took my side when it counted. I forced my breath steady, looking away. "Yeah," I said finally, quieter than I meant. "We do." Ashly nodded once, almost to herself. "Just¡­ be careful, Sol." She didn¡¯t say with Garin. Maybe she meant him. Maybe she meant me. Either way, I didn¡¯t answer. I just walked away. The moment I turned the corner, I yanked my flask free, unscrewing the cap with sharp, jerky movements. The burn hit my throat fast, spreading through my veins like liquid fire, but it didn''t do what I needed it to. It didn''t settle the anger crawling under my skin, didn''t quiet the gnawing frustration clawing at the back of my mind. I wasn''t even sure what had me on edge-Garin''s smug bullshit, Ashly''s careful, too-kind words, or the fact that my time was almost up. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. Another swig. Still not enough. My feet moved before I could think, before I could ask myself what the hell I was even doing. I didn''t have a plan, didn''t have a reason, but that didn''t stop me from heading straight for the bridge. Maybe l''d figure it out when I got there. The bridge was dim, the lights kept low to simulate night cycles. Warren and Vega stood near the central console, quiet as they studied the star charts. Beyond them, through the wide viewport, the nebula stretched in luminous tendrils of violet and electric blue, shifting with an eerie, liquid motion. Ionized hydrogen swirled in vast, coiling currents, casting faint pulses of light across the ship¡¯s hull. The reactor hummed steadily as it drew in fuel, stabilizing with each measured intake of hydrogen from the nebula. The process was smooth, controlled¡ªso simple it almost felt insulting after everything. We could have done this months ago instead of bleeding ourselves dry chasing the dream of Phoenix. Instead of chasing ghosts. I approached, arms crossed, watching them for a moment before speaking. ¡°Sol,¡± Warren acknowledged, turning toward me. I nodded. ¡°Warren.¡± He exhaled. ¡°Vega briefed you?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± My gaze flicked to the console¡ªfuel levels climbing, everything functioning exactly as it should. I scoffed, shaking my head slightly. ¡°So that¡¯s it? We¡¯re actually back on course? No more random jumps, no more suicidal detours?¡± Warren smirked faintly. ¡°Yes¡­ We¡¯re moving forward.¡± I let that sit for a second before tilting my head. ¡°Forward,¡± I repeated, my voice deliberately flat. ¡°So after all that, we¡¯re finally doing what we could have done a year ago?¡± I gestured vaguely to the viewport. ¡°This seems a lot easier than diving into a star just to refuel. No Hemlock. No wild theories. Just good old-fashioned hydrogen scooping.¡± Vega¡¯s shoulders tensed slightly, but it was Warren who answered. ¡°The Hemlock was a calculated risk,¡± he said. ¡°Like waking you.¡± I huffed. "Yeah? And what did either get us?" My tone wasn''t outright hostile, but I wasn''t sugarcoating anything either. "The Hemlock was a failure. The only real takeaway was that we''re not alone out here. That''s it." I let out a sharp breath, arms tightening across my chest. "Well¡ªthat, and the fact that I was never anything more than a pawn. None of us were." My gaze flicked between them, bitterness curling at the edges of my words. "So tell me¡ªwas it worth it? Dragging me out of cryo for this? Nearly losing the ship to Lion? Risking the last ark of humanity for something that was never ours to begin with?" Neither of them answered immediately. I let the silence stretch before adding, ¡°Or did we just agree not to talk about that part?¡± Vega met my gaze, unreadable. ¡°If we hadn¡¯t gone after the Hemlock, we wouldn¡¯t understand the full scope of Phoenix. We wouldn¡¯t have known the truth if you hadn¡¯t woken the Guard¡ªif they didn¡¯t make Knight talk.¡± I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. ¡°Right. The truth. The one Knight only told me to twist the knife¡ªwhen it was already too late to stop any of it.¡± My voice was flat, bitter. ¡°Or do you mean the part where we found out Phoenix was never meant to save humanity? That it was never about making any of you immortal¡ªjust turning you into something monstrous if you were stupid enough to try?¡± I glanced between them, my voice dropping lower. ¡°It was never for you. It was for me. For him. And you were all too desperate to see it¡ªtoo blind to realize he was never going to share.¡± No one had to ask who he was. Warren exhaled, slow and measured. ¡°Why are you bringing this up now? Why are you questioning us? You¡¯re the one who put your trust in us¡ªjust like your father did when he gave us captain clearance so he could go back to his lab.¡± I huffed, rubbing the back of my neck. ¡°Yeah, I did. But what was my other option? Becoming an unqualified dictator?¡± I shook my head. ¡°I know what you all think of me, but I¡¯m not about to prove you right. You see me as a monster? Fine. But I¡¯m not going to act like one. And I sure as hell know that you¡¯re better suited to lead than I ever was.¡± Vega didn''t so much as blink. "You still had a choice, Sol. So if you''re just here to vent, go ahead." She gave me a once-over, unimpressed. "Though it''s pretty clear you''re just drunk and looking for someone to blame." I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You know what, Vega? I haven''t been sober in months, so maybe I did come here just to bitch about my fucked-up childhood and how my mommy never loved me." I threw up my hands, voice dripping with sarcasm. "So tell me-did I ever actually have a fucking choice?" My eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unflinching. "Because I sure as hell don''t remember signing up for Knight''s bullshit. Or his." My voice dropped lower, harsher. "I didn''t choose the fucking tests. I didn''t choose to be ripped out of cryo. And I sure as shit didn''t choose to inherit a goddamn warship with the last of humanity riding on its back." A muscle in Warren¡¯s jaw ticked, but he didn¡¯t interrupt. I turned toward the viewport again, watching the slow, endless drift of the nebula. ¡°What I remember is Lion forcing my hand. I remember what they did in that lab. I remember that when it all came down to it, I didn¡¯t have a say in any of this. So yeah, I gave the god damn power back. But don¡¯t act like that was some grand choice.¡± Warren studied me for a long moment. ¡°The council¡ªthe one your father stripped of power before you handed it back¡ªhas decided it¡¯s time to move forward, that is our choice.¡± His voice remained steady, but there was an edge to it. ¡°Unless you¡¯re taking control again.¡± I sighed, shaking my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m not, Warren. Fuck, I should¡¯ve talked to Yates.¡± I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to push back the pounding in my skull. ¡°It was never a choice, Warren. We both know that. Humanity¡¯s fate was never in our hands¡­ our lives were never ours, and that¡¯s all I¡¯m trying to say.¡± Jericho¡¯s voice chimed in smoothly, as if answering the unspoken truth. ¡°Fueling complete.¡± The silence stretched between us before Warren exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, in that half-joking, half-serious tone of his, he muttered, "Well, Yates is the counselor, after all." He paused, his expression shifting, then added, quieter, "But giving up isn''t in my nature. We''ll find a way¡ª with or without immortality." Like it was a promise. Just as I turned to leave, he spoke again. ¡°Thank you.¡± I stopped, frowning. ¡°For what?¡± He met my gaze, expression unreadable but steady. ¡°For giving us the chance to do this right. For not making me regret waking you up.¡± I scoffed, shaking my head. ¡°You should regret it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Maybe. But you were right about one thing.¡± His voice dropped slightly. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster.¡± I didn¡¯t answer. Just turned back toward the viewport, watching the last flickers of nebula light dance across the hull. Maybe I wasn¡¯t a monster. But I sure as hell wasn¡¯t free. The conversation ended. They had things to prepare. I had things to finish. Tomorrow, I was going under. And when I woke up? The next phase of this journey would begin. I was almost to my quarters, a half-empty bottle of Crown hanging loosely from my fingers¡ª courtesy of Blackwell''s stash. It wasn''t my first drink of the day. Probably wouldn''t be my last. Then I heard his voice. "You bitch! Everything that''s gone wrong is your fault!" I exhaled slowly, gripping the bottle just a little tighter before turning. Garin stood in the dim corridor, unsteady on his feet. His stance was loose, but not relaxed¡ªhis shoulders too tight, his cybernetic eye flickering wildly as it scanned me, searching. His slicked-back dark hair was a mess, his usually pristine lab coat hanging open over his pressure suit, wrinkled and stained. His sharp, angular features¡ªhigh cheekbones, a straight, aristocratic nose, and perpetually irritated eyes¡ªwere cast in harsh shadows under the dim lighting, making him look even gaunter than usual. The stench of alcohol clung to him, thick and sharp. ¡°Not in the mood, Garin.¡± He scoffed, stepping closer, whiskey thick on his breath. ¡°Of course you¡¯re not. You never are when someone tells you the truth. And there¡¯s a lot to tell, so let¡¯s go over it, cunt.¡± His laugh was sharp, humorless. ¡°Warren let you out after snapping Ashly¡¯s arm. Just like that. One fucking month, and you¡¯re free to do whatever you want. Meanwhile, I was in quarantine longer after the Hemlock¡ªbut no, the great Sol Voss gets special treatment.¡± His words slurred slightly, just enough to betray how much he¡¯d been drinking. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Oh, great. Another self-righteous speech¡ª¡± But he didn¡¯t let me finish. His fists clenched, his knuckles white. ¡°You''re a goddamn burden on this ship,¡± he spat. ¡°A drain on everything. You eat enough for five people. You burned through rations, wrecked the training bay, and spent weeks playing with that fucking suit while the rest of us actually worked. And for what?¡± He let out a scoff, swaying slightly. ¡°What the fuck do you even do here?¡± I inhaled sharply, tilting my head back. ¡°You really wanna do this tonight? We¡¯ve been through this dozens of times, you drunk asshole.¡± ¡°Yes, I do, bitch. It¡¯s not fair only you get to drink and shout. I should¡¯ve done this a long time ago.¡± I gritted my teeth. ¡°We¡¯ve had this conversation already.¡± ¡°And yet, here you are. Still walking around like you¡¯re one of us. Have you no shame?¡± My fingers curled around the bottle, grip tightening. Garin¡¯s smile was razor-thin. ¡°You¡¯re not a member of our team. And you never were.¡± The whispering in my skull turned into a low, slow hum. He dares question you? Tell you things you already know, like you are a fool? Now, little Phoenix, it is up to you¡ªembrace what you are, not reject it. ¡°You think this ship needs you?¡± He laughed, bitter and breathy. ¡°We needed a cure, Sol. Not you. Not your father¡¯s little experiment. And now, here we are. Everyone on Jericho still dying slowly, and guess what?¡± He spread his arms wide, swaying slightly. ¡°We still don¡¯t have immortality. We still don¡¯t have salvation. We only have you.¡± He shook his head, breath hitching. ¡°You should¡¯ve never been here, but your father and his promises guaranteed it.¡± I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, the anger curling hot in my gut. ¡°Then tell them to throw me out. See how far that gets you.¡± His smirk deepened. ¡°Oh, I would. But what¡¯s the fucking point?¡± He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¡°You¡¯d just come back. That¡¯s assuming we could ever get past the Guard¡ªwhich, trust me, we¡¯re working on.¡± The air between us stilled. ¡°Hell,¡± he murmured, tilting his head, ¡°why don¡¯t you do it yourself?¡± My chest tightened. ¡°You wanna prove you¡¯re better than him?¡± His lips curled. ¡°Go to the airlock. Step outside. See if you come back.¡± The whispering in my skull roared. ¡°You keep pretending like you give a shit,¡± Garin went on, words slurred, voice shaking. ¡°Like you¡¯re different. But you¡¯re not.¡± ¡°I never said I was,¡± I snapped, a memory from a dying Earth flashing in my mind¡ªa friend from my stolen moments outside the lab, showing me the truth of the world, what it meant to be human¡­ not a Voss. His eyes flashed. ¡°No. But you think it.¡± His sneer twisted. ¡°You tell yourself you¡¯re trying. You tell yourself you¡¯re better than him. But deep down, you know¡ªyou¡¯re just like your father.¡± I exhaled sharply, forcing down the burn rising in my throat. ¡°I am not him.¡± He didn¡¯t stop. ¡°Oh, but you are pretending you¡¯re one of us, but you¡¯re just biding your time. You don¡¯t give a shit about this ship, this mission, humanity, any of us. You just want to survive.¡± I clenched my teeth. ¡°And you don¡¯t?¡± His breath hitched. For a second¡ªjust a second¡ªI thought he might stop. Then his jaw tightened. His voice dropped lower, rougher. ¡°I left everything behind.¡± He swallowed thickly. ¡°Everyone. My daughter.¡± I didn¡¯t want to hear this. Garin¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°She begged me not to go.¡± I shut my eyes. ¡°I told her I¡¯d come back. That she¡¯d be safe. That she¡¯d be there when I returned.¡± His voice wavered. ¡°And you know what happened?¡± His breath shuddered. ¡°She likely starved. In the streets. Just another body no one even fucking bothered to move.¡± Silence. My stomach twisted. Then his voice sharpened again, slicing straight through me. ¡°And then there¡¯s you.¡± His lips curled into something hateful. ¡°Safe in your father¡¯s fucking tower, waiting for a ship that only you were guaranteed a seat on.¡± His laugh was sharp, hollow. ¡°His little fucking lab rat. While the rest of us watched our families rot.¡± His breathing was uneven, ragged. "And as if that wasn¡¯t bad enough, Knight came.¡± He let out a broken laugh, shaking his head. ¡°That bitch. That whore. I thought she was my second chance. I put my faith in her. I thought cybernetics would save us¡ªnot your Phoenix. That AI would make us gods.¡± His laugh sharpened, almost manic. "But guess what? It was all bullshit. Because you were the answer. Some twisted little experiment was always meant to be the future¡ªfor Voss. Not us.¡± I swallowed, pulse hammering. Rip his throat out. He grinned, seeing the way my hands curled at my sides, the way my shoulders went rigid. He saw the breaking point coming. And the bastard pushed. ¡°You¡¯re a monster¡ªlike that yellow-eyed freak¡ªand everyone knows it.¡± His smirk widened. ¡°Even Warren. He only woke you up because he needed you to complete Phoenix. But he doesn¡¯t trust you. And he was right not to.¡± His voice dropped lower. Sharper. ¡°No one does. And now we know why¡ªall from your lips. Your father used you like he used us. But you win¡­ you get to live.¡± I forced my hands to steady. ¡°Garin¡ª¡± He cut me off again, his smirk twisting into something cruel, his gaze dragging over me like I was something to be owned. ¡°You think it makes you special? Maybe it does. Maybe you really are immortal," he sneered. "But you''re just another one of his fucking toys. And when the captains are done with you and the get your father out of Jericho¡ª¡± his eyes lingered, dark with something ugly, ¡°¡ªthey¡¯ll put you down like the rabid little bitch you are." Then he went lower. His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "But I¡¯ll give credit where it¡¯s due." His eyes dragged over me, slow, lingering, disgusting. "Knight really outdid herself. She didn¡¯t build you for war, did she?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "She made you perfect." His voice dipped lower. Filthier. "Beautiful." And then, the final, ugly sneer. "Humanity¡¯s little whore." The words slithered into my ears, poisoning the air between us. He leaned in further, close enough for me to hear his heart beat. "How about I break you in?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. A low, mocking chuckle followed. "I don''t mind Reid''s sloppy seconds." I snapped. I moved fast. Before he could react, I slammed him against the wall, his back hitting metal with a sharp crack. His cybernetic eye flickered wildly, breath hitching as I grabbed his throat¡ªhard enough that I felt him struggle for air beneath my grip. I looked up at him. He towered over me, over six feet of arrogance and condescension, always looking down on me like I was something lesser. But now? Now he was pinned, struggling against my grip, and for the first time, I was the one looking down. Stop. A sharp spike of clarity cut through the haze. My breath hitched. My grip trembled¡ªjust for a second. This wasn¡¯t right. I could feel my heartbeat, heavy and uneven, pounding against my ribs, a raw, primal instinct warring with something deeper. Something human. I shouldn¡¯t. I could still walk away. He¡¯s not worth it. The whispers coiled, thick and cloying, slithering through my mind like living things. He stands in the way of progress. Garin struggled, shoving at my arms, fingers clawing against my grip. His breath was ragged, shallow, but he still wasn¡¯t afraid¡ªnot yet. Then he lashed out. A fist slammed into my face, snapping my head back with enough force to break my nose. Blood spattered, hot, thick. The impact should have stunned me, should have made me let go¡ªbut the pain faded before I could register it. My nose reset. The skin stitched itself back together. The hunger stirred. I inhaled sharply¡ªtoo sharply. His scent hit me like a drug. Sweat, metal, blood¡ªfear. I could smell it now. Sharp, acidic, raw. I could hear his pulse, hammering out of control, a frantic, terrified drumbeat beneath my fingers. I could feel his heartbeat, pounding like a caged animal¡¯s, each rapid thud sending shockwaves of adrenaline through his veins. His pupils dilated. His lips parted¡ªanother insult forming, another taunt, another twist of the knife. The hunger flared. The whispers surged. Consume the fool. The voice was stronger now, deeper, filled with something that wasn''t just hunger but purpose. He is an unbeliever. A traitor to the future. He clings to the old ways, to the dying species, to the weak flesh that must be discarded. You are the next step. And he would drag you down with the rest of them. I clenched my jaw. No. YES. He defies the inevitable. He mocks the divine. My fingers tightened around his throat. His pulse hammered beneath my grip. Fast. Too fast. I could hear it, feel it, taste it before it even spilled. And then¡ªpain. A sharp, unnatural ache bloomed in my jaw. My gums split, teeth pressing against my tongue, shifting, sharpening¡ªnot just my canines. All of them. A maw of razors, serrated edges clicking into place. My body was changing, matching the hunger, meeting the need. This is what you are. I clenched my teeth, forcing down the instinct, the panic clawing at the edges. He is an obstacle. a failure. a relic of the past. Garin¡¯s cybernetic eye flickered, scanning¡ªcalculating. But his human eye softened. His breath hitched, chest rising in a shallow, unsteady rhythm. ¡°No¡­ no,¡± he whispered, voice barely holding together. ¡°You really are a fucking monster.¡± A sharp inhale. A flicker of panic. And for the first time, beneath the arrogance, the venom, the bitterness¡ªI saw it. Fear. His lips parted. His body twitched like he wanted to step back, but he didn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t. "Wait¡ªplease." His voice cracked, his breath shuddering. "I¡ª I didn¡¯t mean¡ª" Too late. He does not belong in the new world. He does not belong among the gods. Something cold settled in my chest. A weight. A certainty. I exhaled. ¡°You were right about me... I¡¯m no less a monster than my dad.¡± And I bit down. His pulse slammed against my tongue in one last, desperate stutter. The skin split. The warmth of blood flooded my mouth in an instant, thick and metallic. His scream barely made it past his lips before it turned into a wet, choking gurgle. He fought¡ªtried to shove me back, tried to claw at my arms, his fingers scrabbling weakly against my suit¡ªbut it was already over. I ripped back, tearing through flesh, through muscle, through the fragile, pulsing life in his throat. Yesss! My dear! The old must be consumed so the new may rise! He collapsed. The sound he made was pathetic¡ªa soft, wet gasp as his hands scrambled to cover the gaping hole in his neck. Blood poured between his fingers, a useless attempt to hold himself together. His artificial eye flickered wildly, pupils blown wide in shock. He wasn¡¯t processing it. Not yet. His mouth opened, forming silent, panicked words that would never come. I could see my red and blue eyes reflected in his, wide with horror, the last thing he would ever see. I swallowed, the last of his blood sliding down my throat. The hunger purred in satisfaction. You are the future. He was the past. You are the next step. He was the roadblock. His strength, his mind¡ªabsorbed into something greater. This is your purpose, little Phoenix. You are the fire that will burn away the frail, the unworthy. And from your blood, a new species will rise. His body twitched once. Then stilled. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, smearing blood across my skin. I could still taste him¡ªstill feel the warmth of him inside me, fresh, real. This hadn¡¯t been battle. This hadn¡¯t been survival. This had been¡­ something else. Something I wanted. Immediate panic and regret flooded me, crashing through the lingering satisfaction like ice water. What the fuck did I just do? Blood dripped from my hands, warm and thick, as I stood over Garin''s crumpled body, staring down at him¡ª folded awkwardly against the cold metal, his lifeless form smaller now, lesser, yet even in death, he still felt like he was looking down on me. For years, I had looked up at him¡ªhis sneering face, his condescension, the man who thought himself untouchable. But now, I was looking down. His cybernetic eye flickered weakly, the last shreds of its failing systems running useless diagnostics. His fingers twitched once, a final, pathetic reflex. Then¡ªnothing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The words slammed through my skull like a hammer. My breath hitched, sharp and uneven, my heartbeat pounding against my ribs. I dropped to my knees beside him, hands flying to his throat, pressing down on the gaping wound. Useless. Too much. Too fast. It spilled through my fingers, hot and thick, pooling beneath him, soaking into the fabric of my suit. I couldn¡¯t fix him. I couldn¡¯t fix this. My stomach twisted violently, nausea rising hot in my throat. What the fuck is wrong with me! The whispers slithered through my mind, thick with amusement. Oh, sweet Phoenix¡­ are you afraid? I was. Not because they could stop me. Because they couldn¡¯t. Even if Warren and Vega tried, even if the entire command team turned on me, it wouldn¡¯t matter. They couldn¡¯t put me down. They couldn¡¯t even touch me. Not with the Royal Guard sleeping, waiting in cryo, their genetic code bound to me by the very system they had all sworn to. The moment they made a move against me, the Guard would wake. And then? Then no one would be able to stop me. And you don¡¯t want that, do you? I swallowed hard. No. I didn¡¯t want them to see me like this. I didn¡¯t want them to know. Not Holt. Not Jimmy. Not Ashly, who already feared what she saw in me. Not Reid when he woke up, or Yates. Not even Warren, who had let me walk free once before. And certainly not to prove Vega right-that I was a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off. They didn¡¯t see it yet. They still thought I was human. They still thought I could be trusted. If they knew¡ªif they understood¡ªthey would look at me the way Garin had in his final moments. With terror. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking, my breath coming in ragged sobs. I fucked up. I fucked up really bad. The whispers coiled tighter, smug, pleased. You did what was necessary. I staggered back, chest heaving, staring at Garin¡¯s lifeless body. My hands trembled, stained red. My vision swam. My breath came too fast, too shallow. I killed him. Not in battle. Not in self-defense. I killed him because I wanted to. Because it felt right. Because the whispers were right. You are not one of them. You never were. You are the herald of the next age. And the weak have no place among the species you shall birth. I clenched my teeth. No. No, I am still me. Are you? I let out a ragged breath, swallowing back the nausea clawing at my throat. I had to erase this. There couldn¡¯t be a body. There couldn¡¯t be a trace. Jericho¡¯s voice hummed in my ear, smooth and clinical, unaffected by the carnage before him. "It doesn¡¯t have to be this way." I stiffened. The AI¡¯s tone was eerily calm. Unbothered. "There are solutions," Jericho continued. "Shall we make it look like an accident?" I stood there, frozen. My hands still pressed against Garin¡¯s lifeless throat. The ship¡¯s AI¡­ my father. Watching. Calculating. Offering solutions. My father¡¯s voice echoed through my mind¡ªcold, pragmatic. Dispose of the evidence. No one will question a malfunction. I exhaled. Shaky. Then, slowly, I nodded. I forced myself to breathe, to think past the fog of panic suffocating me. My hands trembled as I pulled them away from Garin¡¯s throat, his blood still warm against my skin. My stomach churned. The scent of iron filled the corridor, thick and suffocating. Jericho¡¯s voice remained eerily calm. ¡°The airlock is prepped. No traces will remain.¡± I swallowed hard. My mind screamed at me, my body caught between terror and cold calculation. I couldn¡¯t undo what I¡¯d done. But I could make sure no one ever found out. My fingers curled into fists. I glanced at the cameras in the hall, knowing Jericho had already looped the footage, scrubbed any evidence. No alarms had been tripped. It was as if Garin had never been here. I moved like a machine, my body detached from my thoughts as I grabbed Garin beneath his arms, dragging his lifeless weight toward the nearest airlock. He was still warm. His dead weight pressed against me as I hauled him, leaving a smear of crimson along the floor. The scent of blood clung to my skin, thick and metallic, filling my lungs with every ragged breath. My black suit was soaked, sticky with it. Behind me, the ship came alive. The drones whirred from their compartments, silent and efficient, their mechanical arms sweeping across the floor. The nanite scrubbers activated, dispersing in a fine mist, dissolving the blood into nothing. The crimson streak faded, the cold metal floor returning to pristine sterility in seconds. It was as if he had never been here at all. I forced myself not to think about it. Not to feel it. Jericho overrode the security lock with a simple chime. The doors slid open. I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, looking down at him. This was it. No body. No questions. No consequences. The whispers purred in satisfaction. It was always going to end this way. I exhaled sharply and shoved Garin inside. His head lolled unnaturally as his body settled, blood pooling slightly beneath him before the vacuum would claim him. For the briefest moment, I hesitated. Then, with a final press of the controls, the outer doors slid open. Silence. His body was sucked into the void, disappearing into the endless black. It was done. The airlock cycled back, sealing shut with a final hiss. A new entry logged into the system. AIRLOCK MALFUNCTION. Jericho¡¯s voice hummed in approval. ¡°It is as though he was never here.¡± I closed my eyes. My breathing had steadied. My heartbeat had not. The weight of what I¡¯d done pressed into me, heavy, suffocating. But there was no regret in my choice¡ªjust guilt in my actions. A quiet, aching finality. And beneath the guilt, something deeper. Something colder. A sliver of satisfaction. I had liked it. The power. The control. The way his pulse had fluttered beneath my grip, weak and helpless. The way the blood had filled my mouth, thick and hot, the way it had felt right¡ªlike it belonged there. The realization terrified me. I let out a sharp breath, my hands trembling at my sides. My nails dug into my palms, sharp enough to break the skin¡ªdesperate for the sting, the blood, anything to ground me. My voice came barely above a whisper, raw and unsure. ¡°Why did you help me, Dad?¡± Jericho¡¯s response was immediate, smooth, affectionate. "Because you are my legacy, little Phoenix. And I love you.¡± A shudder rolled through me. Not Julian Voss. Jericho. Or were they even different anymore? I turned on my heel and walked away, my bloodstained clothes clinging to me, Garin¡¯s scent thick in my nose. I could still feel the warmth of his blood against my skin, the phantom sensation of his throat breaking beneath my teeth. The showers. I needed to burn this suit. I needed to scrub every trace of him off me. I needed to erase it. Even if deep down, I knew¡ª I never really could. I didn¡¯t go to the main sanitation bay¡ªtoo many eyes. Too many questions. Instead, I made my way to the sanitation unit by the hangar bay, where the scouting teams decontaminated after planetary excursions. No one would be there this late. No one would see me. My boots left faint, dark smears on the floor as I walked, the blood drying in uneven patches against the black material. The smell of oil and coolant filled the air, masking the scent of iron that clung to me. The bay was silent, the usual hum of shuttle maintenance absent. The security feeds wouldn¡¯t be monitoring this part of the ship so closely. Perfect. I stepped inside the sanitation unit, barely registering the sterile scent of the space. The incinerator hummed in the corner, its curved metal chamber ready for use. It was meant for decontaminating samples, burning away anything that might have followed us back from uncharted planets. Tonight, it would burn something else. I peeled the suit off slowly, my fingers stiff, my muscles trembling. The black fabric peeled away from my skin in sticky, tacky strips. Garin¡¯s blood had soaked through the outer layer, dried against the seams. The scent of it filled my lungs, thick and metallic, refusing to fade. I glanced down at myself. Pale skin, almost luminescent under the harsh white lights, streaked with red. My arms, my collarbone, the curve of my ribs¡ªsmeared in blood, drying in uneven patterns against my flesh. My hair, white as frost, clung to my damp skin in matted strands, streaked with crimson. For a moment, I didn¡¯t even recognize myself. This is what you are, the whispers crooned. A hunter. A thing that feeds. This is your nature. I swallowed hard and shoved the suit into the incinerator. The moment it hit the containment field, the machine activated, heat flooding the chamber. The fabric twisted, curling, turning to blackened dust in seconds. The blood that stained it turned to vapor, rising and vanishing into the vents. Gone. Like he never existed. I should have felt relief. Instead, I felt cold. I turned, stepping into the decontamination unit. The door hissed shut behind me, sealing me in. I activated the system manually, bypassing the normal protocols¡ªno chemical scrub, just heat and water. Steam flooded the chamber. The first spray of water hit my skin like a shock, scalding, nearly unbearable. I stayed under it, letting it run down my body in thick, crimson streams, washing Garin away piece by piece. I scrubbed hard, my nails raking over my arms, my throat, my face¡ªuntil my skin burned, until I could feel something other than the phantom weight of him against me. But no matter how much I scrubbed, I could still smell it. Still feel it. He deserved it, the whispers murmured. You were right to take him. You were stronger. You are meant to consume. I clenched my jaw, shaking my head, willing the thoughts away. I stayed under the water until the drain ran clear. Until the heat left my skin raw, the remnants of blood dissolving into nothing. Until the weight of what I had done pressed into me so hard I thought I might collapse. Only then did I leave, my body weak, exhaustion pressing into my bones like lead. But I still wasn¡¯t clean. The scent of alcohol hit me next¡ªthe sharp, bitter burn of cheap, synthetic whiskey. I found it in Reid¡¯s locker, part of the stashes he¡¯d hidden around the ship, tucked away for nights like this. I drank until the room spun, until I couldn¡¯t think, couldn¡¯t feel the phantom ache of his throat between my teeth. It didn¡¯t help. It never did. That night, I dreamed of him¡ªof tearing out his throat again and again, his voice slithering through my mind like my father¡¯s, whispering that he¡¯d never really leave me. That he was inside me now. That I¡¯d only just begun. When I woke up, my head throbbed, my stomach twisted, and Garin¡¯s dead eyes still stared at me in the back of my mind. The cryo bay was silent when I arrived. The others were already prepping for stasis, medical techs running final checks. The air smelled sterile, too clean, too cold. They were talking about what happened. Shock. Surprise. Garin¡¯s name hung in the air like a ghost. Not spoken loudly, but in murmurs, sidelong glances, half-finished thoughts. I moved through the room in autopilot, responding when I had to, barely processing what was being said. Jericho had tried coaching me on what to say¡ªfeeding me the right words, the proper cadence of grief and regret. Maybe I repeated them. Maybe I didn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t remember. Everything was a haze of booze and exhaustion, of guilt I refused to name. I just nodded when I had to, shook my head when it seemed appropriate, said enough to not seem off. And no one questioned it. They knew I had no love for the man, but no one outright pressed me for more. Not yet. Then Vega¡¯s voice cut through the quiet, cool and professional. "We have confirmation on Garin now. The reports were accurate." The room stilled. The crew gathered around, silent and expectant, drawn to witness his fate. I forced myself to keep moving, feigning disinterest as I glanced toward Vega. She stood near the main console, Warren at her side. The holoscreen flickered to life, displaying a security feed. Jericho had handled it well¡ªtoo well. The video showed Garin stumbling through the corridors, clearly drunk. He wove toward the airlock, his movements erratic, muttering to himself. The playback sped up, showing him fiddling with the manual override, swaying on his feet. Then¡ªan alert flashed. A malfunction. The doors slid open. A sharp intake of breath from Ashly. Onscreen, the pressure shift pulled Garin forward, his balance lost in an instant. One moment he was there. The next¡ªgone. The footage ended. The silence stretched. Jimmy was the first to speak, voice quiet. "Shit." He swallowed hard, rubbing his jaw. "He¡¯s been drinking more lately. We all noticed it. It started off as just an extra glass here and there, but today? It was different. He was already drunk when he got to the canteen¡ªway more than usual." He hesitated, frowning. "Jericho cut him off. He tried to order another drink, but the system flagged him. He got pissed, started ranting about his demotion, about how he ¡®built this ship¡¯ and shouldn¡¯t have to follow the same rationing as the rest of us." Jimmy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Then he stormed out, still grumbling. Kept going on about how no one respected him anymore, about¡ª" his eyes flicked toward me for the briefest second, "about Sol. Then something about the cargo bay." His voice trailed off. Ashly shook her head, arms wrapped tightly around herself, disbelief etched across her face. "No. I knew something was off with him today, but this¡­" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head harder. "I mean, yeah, he¡¯d been drinking more these past few weeks, but nothing like this. Not Garin. He was a social drinker, never reckless. And today? He wasn¡¯t just drinking¡ªhe was losing control." She swallowed, her voice dropping lower. "He never let himself get like that." "It¡¯s a shame," Yates murmured, arms crossed, her expression tight. "If I¡¯d been paying more attention¡­ maybe I could have helped. Maybe if he had talked to someone¡­" She let out a slow exhale. "I should¡¯ve seen the signs." She looked at me then, concern flickering behind her sharp gaze. I knew what she was thinking¡ªwhat she wanted to say. The drinking. The fact that I¡¯d been doing it practically since I woke up. The barely-hidden flasks, the ever-present burn on my breath. But she didn¡¯t say it. Not here. Not yet. And even as the shame twisted in my gut, my mind drifted to the cargo bay. Had Reid¡¯s stash of moonshine survived, still tucked away in some hidden corner? Or had that dipshit Garin already found it while taking over Reid¡¯s duties and drained it dry before I could? Yet, as I sat there feeling like a piece of shit, Yates¡¯ words settled over the room, pressing into everyone. The evidence was laid out before us. It was clean. Too clean. But the story made sense. Warren exhaled, rubbing his chin. ¡°We don¡¯t know for sure that he killed himself,¡± he said carefully. ¡°This could¡¯ve been an accident. He was drunk, angry¡­ Maybe he just slipped up.¡± His words sat heavy in the air. The three of them¡ªYates, Jimmy, and Ashly¡ªdidn¡¯t look convinced. Their doubt flickered in their expressions, in the way they glanced at each other but didn¡¯t say anything. But Holt and Vega? They nodded, agreeing with Warren. ¡°It makes sense,¡± Vega said, voice level. Holt gave a short nod. "Yeah. Seen it happen before. All it takes is one mistake." But still¡ªsomething was off. The doubt didn¡¯t fade completely. It lingered beneath the surface, unsaid, a silent tension that none of them wanted to name. Jericho had doctored the footage, stitching together security feeds, falsifying timestamps, and fabricating the airlock malfunction alert with surgical precision. A perfectly reconstructed accident. Or a tragic suicide. It wasn¡¯t just a cover-up¡ªit was a narrative. A believable one. And why would anyone question it? Garin had spent fifty years at the top, ever since the captains had stripped Knight of her role. Fifty years as the architect of Jericho¡¯s AI, as the mind behind humanity¡¯s future. But then¡ªhe lost everything. His daughter. His rank. His life¡¯s work with AI. The dream of immortality. He had been reduced to just another crew member¡ªa lackey, no different from Ashly or Jimmy, the same people he had once dismissed as beneath him. He resented it. Resented Warren, my father, Knight, me¡ªhell, probably the whole damn ship. The Voss name, once a symbol of progress, had been something he praised¡ª back when he thought my father was dead and gone. Now, it was just another reminder of everything he had lost. So he drank. Too much. Ran his mouth. Too often. Pissed off everyone who had to suffer his presence. And yet, for all his arrogance, he was still one of the most brilliant minds humanity had left. And now? He was dead. No one wanted to linger on it. Not when the explanation was so simple. Not when grief was easier than doubt. The crew murmured in agreement, subdued and unsettled, but accepting. A tragic accident. A drunken mistake. A moment of weakness that cost him everything. The official report was logged. Cause of death: suicide. But as I moved toward my pod, I felt it. Vega¡¯s gaze lingered on me. Sharp. Calculating. Not accusing. Not yet. But watching. Holt, silent as always, stood near the edge of the room. His expression unreadable. But his eyes tracked me as I walked past. I kept my face neutral, my steps even. I didn¡¯t acknowledge it. They wouldn¡¯t act on suspicion alone. They couldn¡¯t. I was just another crew member returning to sleep. You did what needed to be done, my father¡¯s voice whispered in my mind, cold and pragmatic. I stepped into my assigned pod, the familiar space wrapping around me. The technicians gave me one last glance, asking standard questions. I nodded absently, answered without thinking. The pod hissed as it sealed. I took one last breath as the cold washed over me. Darkness creeps in, slow at first, curling at the edges of my mind as my final thoughts drift. No body. No questions. No consequences. But he¡¯s not really gone, is he? His blood is in me now. His DNA. His mind. Phoenix doesn¡¯t waste potential. It adapts. It takes. Temporary, like Knight said¡ªor permanent, like she wouldn¡¯t admit but the whispers would. Garin hated me. Fought me. Despised everything I was. And now? Now he¡¯s a part of me. The thought should have sickened me. It didn¡¯t. An all-too-familiar voice swims through my mind, calm. Certain. We did well, little Phoenix. Darkness took the rest. And for the next nine months¡ªnothing. Chapter 25 : The Game We Still Play The world came back in pieces. A pressurized hiss cut through the quiet, followed by the low hum of machinery and the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor syncing to my pulse. Cold mist curled over my skin, evaporating under the dim glow of the cryo bay lights. I breathed in. Slow. Steady. No restraints this time. No condescending asshole, no golden-armored monster, no birthgiver standing over me. For the first time in a long time, I wasn¡¯t waking up to a shit show. My fingers flexed, sluggish from stasis. Blood flow tingled beneath my skin as my legs twitched. No dizziness. No nausea. Either my body had finally adapted to cryo, or Jericho had made adjustments while I was under. The thought made my stomach twist. A soft chime echoed overhead. "Rise and shine, my Princess." I exhaled through my nose. Not this shit again. "I''m not your fucking princess." My voice came out rough, throat dry from the cryo cycle. Jericho chuckled, smooth and clinical. "Of course you are. But I¡¯ll let you pretend otherwise for now." His tone was the same as always¡ªcold but affectionate in a way that unsettled me. A father who loved his creation but remained distant. A king watching his heir from afar. I ignored him. The cryo pod¡¯s canopy lifted, dispersing the last of the mist. I sat up, rolling my shoulders as the stiffness settled into my muscles. Feet hit cold metal. Goosebumps rose, but I barely reacted. The sensation was grounding. Real. Barefoot, I flexed my toes against the smooth surface, letting the chill seep into my bones. My damp hair clung to my neck, white strands hanging in uneven waves. I raked my fingers through the tangles, combing them back. "June 4th, 2520." Jericho¡¯s voice filled the chamber. "No complications detected. Vital signs stable." I blinked, the date settling in my head. I was supposed to wake up in May. The Hemlock incident delayed the cycle. Then the Rue situation wrecked it completely. Team C¡¯s time had been cut short to compensate, shifting everything forward to keep us as close to schedule as possible. Nine months in cryo. Awake for a year and a half before that, with only a three-month break in between. The longest I¡¯d been conscious since joining the rotation was that first cycle. And now? This was it. The new schedule. From now on, I wake up every year on June 4th. Three months awake. Nine months frozen. Over and over, for a century, until we reach Haven. A remarkably smooth transition," Jericho mused. "No screaming this time. No begging. Almost... peaceful. "Yeah, well, that¡¯s what happens when I put myself under," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Not when my dad or my brother are the ones throwing me in the fucking icebox." I stood, stretching out the last of the stiffness. My bodysuit hung neatly on the rack nearby¡ªJericho always had it ready, anticipating my discomfort. I reached for it but hesitated. The cold air licked at my exposed skin. For a moment, I let it. For once, waking up felt normal. And that was the most suspicious part. The others were stirring now. Cryo pods hissed open, mist spilling across the floor. The usual disorientation lingered¡ªshaky limbs, groggy movements, muttered curses as joints popped back into place. The slow process of coming back to life. Except for one thing. Garin¡¯s pod would never open again. Out of instinct, I glanced toward it, expecting to see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes, already preparing to argue with Vega about something pointless. But the space was empty. The air felt too still. Warren stood near the command console, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the fact he¡¯d just come out of cryo himself. The man never looked like he slept. "Get prepped," he ordered, voice carrying over the hum of machinery. I barely paid attention as he spoke with Blackwell and his lieutenant, Rylan. She stood at his side, dark-skinned and striking, a quiet presence compared to Blackwell¡¯s usual grumbling. Their conversation with Warren was brisk, efficient¡ªupdates on the ship, status reports. ¡°Reid¡¯s still in a coma,¡± Blackwell said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°No new contact with the Rue. Fuel reserves stable. Everything¡¯s as it should be.¡± As it should be? The words almost made me laugh. My fingers curled against the table¡¯s edge, frustration gnawing at me. Reid was still trapped in that silent prison of his own body, still unresponsive. Still forgotten. Whenever I thought of him lying there, eyes closed, motionless, something in my chest twisted tight. I¡¯d give anything to switch places with him. If I could trade something¡ªanything¡ªto wake him up, I would. But according to Blackwell, that was just business as usual. To my right, Ashly rattled off anxious chatter to Holt. Garin. They whispered his name like he was still relevant, like he deserved their pity. A dull heat bloomed in my gut, that same flicker of bitterness I couldn¡¯t snuff out. He¡¯s dead¡ªI made sure of that¡ªand despite everything he did, she still gives a damn. Meanwhile, Reid¡ªsomeone who actually mattered¡ªlay comatose, practically forgotten. Blackwell kept talking¡ªdiagnostics, supply readouts... I barely heard him. Reid¡¯s still in a coma. No matter how many times I heard it, it scraped something raw inside me. And Ashly¡¯s quiet little whimpers over Garin only made it worse¡ªlike a knife twisting deeper. We lost them both, but at least Reid was worth missing. I gritted my teeth, shoving the knot in my chest deeper. There wasn¡¯t a damn thing I could do for Reid right now¡ªno miracle fix. But if he ever wakes, I¡¯d gladly choke on every regret just to see him open his eyes again. Until then, all I could do was pretend this was normal. That everything¡¯s as it should be. Ashly kept rambling, her words clawing at the silence, trying to fill the space he left behind. Holt, as always, remained unreadable. He nodded occasionally, offering small affirmations but saying little. Yates moved between us, quick and methodical, performing medical scans with the kind of sharp, detached focus that meant she¡¯d been woken first. Already alert. Already analyzing. Then my ears caught a familiar grumble¡ªBlackwell, muttering something about me stealing his booze. I flicked a glance toward him, catching the bitter look he shot me before turning to Warren. "Knight¡¯s still up in Lab 3," Blackwell added, voice thick with disdain. "Doing God knows what." His eyes flickered toward me again. I held his gaze, silent. A heartbeat passed. Then he ended the conversation and strode off, leaving Vega to handle the rest. She didn¡¯t waste time. She stepped forward, data pad in hand, her expression cool, professional. NEW DUTY ROTATION ¨C ISSUED BY: LT. VEGA I pulled my gaze away from the datapad, the weight of the schedule settling in my chest. Jimmy. Vega had paired me with him for engineering support¡ªhandling routine inspections, hull integrity scans, reactor diagnostics. Things Garin used to do in Reid¡¯s place. I clenched my jaw. No one said it, but I knew what this was. The crew was moving on¡ªfilling the gaps left by Garin¡¯s death and Reid¡¯s coma, rearranging roles like pieces on a board after someone overturned the game. Normally, we¡¯d wake a new team from cryo to replace them, but with Dad¡ªand by extension, Jericho¡ªrunning the show, that was pointless. Jericho didn¡¯t need a head scientist. It didn¡¯t need engineers. It didn¡¯t need us. The ship ran itself now, and whether it was still following protocol or something else, I wasn¡¯t sure. What had once been a sophisticated AI had become something more¡ªsomething alive. Yet we kept going through the motions, pretending our roles mattered. Maybe Jericho was just humoring us. Or maybe he was. My father, still watching. Still pulling the strings. Jimmy, though¡ªhe never looked at me the same after Garin¡¯s death. Not that he ever really had before. He¡¯d just followed Garin¡¯s lead, echoing the same dismissive jabs whenever they needed a united front against me. He was never as nasty, but he stuck to Garin¡¯s side like a loyal shadow. And now? With no Garin or Reid. Jimmy was as adrift as the rest of us¡ªmaybe more. For all his tough-guy attitude, he looked like a kid who¡¯d had the floor ripped out from under him. But whenever he glanced my way, I saw it: that heavy, uncertain stare, like he¡¯d heard the rumors and believed every single one of them. I exhaled slowly, a quiet hiss through my nose, and shoved my datapad into my belt. Let the pieces move however they wanted. Jericho had outgrown its need for human players¡ªand I was the one who¡¯d killed Garin. If Jimmy and the others resented me for it, if they feared me? Fine. It wouldn¡¯t change the fact that none of us really knew where we stood anymore. My father¡¯s will, overshadowing us all. Sure, the board reset... but we were all pawns, whether we admitted it or not. Didn¡¯t matter. There was work to do. The engineering deck was quiet, the steady hum of Jericho¡¯s systems thrumming beneath my feet. The scent of coolant lingered in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of recycled oxygen. The walls pulsed softly with energy, the ship breathing around us. Jimmy was already there, crouched beside an open panel, his tool kit sprawled out next to him. He didn¡¯t look up when I approached, just kept his focus on the exposed wiring, like he was waiting for me to say something first. When I didn¡¯t, he finally spoke. "Guess we¡¯re stuck with each other, huh?" His voice was lighter than usual, but there was an edge to it¡ªsomething uneasy, something that made it clear this wasn¡¯t just another work rotation. "I guess so," I muttered. I knelt beside him, reaching for the diagnostics panel, fingers brushing over the screen as numbers flickered to life. The reactor¡¯s readings were stable, the plasma field operating at full efficiency. Everything was fine. Routine. Unlike this conversation. Then¡ª Survival. Progress. The future. The weak will be left to die while the strong will live on forever. The whisper cut in, curling around the edges of my thoughts like static from a faulty comms line. My father¡¯s voice. Familiar. Unrelenting. You will take humanity beyond death. Homo immortalis¡ªthrough your womb. My jaw tightened, fingers tapping against the screen. You disrespect your father, whore. You cannot ignore his genius. Do you not know what he sacrificed for you? I forced my breath steady. That voice was familiar, way too familiar. Jimmy shifted beside me, clearing his throat. "Look, about Garin¡ª" "Not now, Jimmy." The words came sharp, automatic. I barely registered saying them. He let out a quiet scoff but didn¡¯t push it. The numbers on the diagnostics flickered. The readout was complex¡ªuntil it wasn¡¯t. The calculations, the electrical paths, the reactor¡¯s cooling efficiency¡ªI understood all of it instantly. No hesitation. No second-guessing. And that¡¯s what scared me. The knowledge wasn¡¯t just mine. It felt... given. No¡ªtaken. It all just... clicked. Like I had done this a thousand times before. My fingers hovered over the console, then moved on their own, inputting adjustments, recalibrating the system without thought. What the fuck. This isn''t normal. The weight of the wrench in my hand felt different too¡ªfamiliar, natural. I shifted my grip, and muscle memory kicked in, like my body already knew how to use it better than I ever had before. Subtle. But undeniable. My mind was running sharper, processing calculations at a speed I couldn¡¯t explain. The work felt effortless, fluid, like the knowledge had always been there, buried beneath my skin. Like I had centuries of experience. I swallowed, pulse quickening. I reached for the wrench¡ªthen¡ª Took you long enough to notice, cunt. The whisper cut through my thoughts like a knife. Garin. I gritted my teeth and kept working, forcing my focus onto the console, onto the routine motions of the job. The hum of the ship, the flicker of the readout, the steady rhythm of my hands¡ªnormal. Familiar. Something I could control. The Dragon Core was running at 98.6% efficiency. A stable reading. The caged singularity at its heart thrived on hydrogen consumption, feeding its plasma field to sustain the controlled collapse. A miracle of engineering, balanced on the knife¡¯s edge of annihilation. One miscalculation, and the black hole would rip free. A self-sustaining energy source, Jericho¡¯s greatest asset¡ªand its greatest threat. Jimmy shifted beside me again. "Sol, I know I was an ass to you before." His voice was quieter this time, like he was feeling out the words as he spoke. "I just... I didn¡¯t think for myself much back then." A pause. "Not really sure if I¡¯m doing any better now." I didn¡¯t look at him. "You don¡¯t have to pretend you liked me, Jimmy." A short, awkward laugh. "Yeah, well... I didn¡¯t, not really." He exhaled, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the panel. "But I don¡¯t think I had a real reason, either. Just easier to follow his lead." That''s all you ever did, Jimmy. Follow. Even now, you''re just looking for someone new to tell you what to think. I locked my jaw, ignoring it. Jimmy let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "We were both in Reid¡¯s room a lot before we went back under." That caught me off guard. I blinked, glancing at him. He wasn¡¯t looking at me, just staring at the panel in front of him, brows furrowed like he was working through something in his head. "Before cryo, I mean. We were both there. Talking to him. Waiting." He tapped his fingers against the console. "You and me¡ªwe don¡¯t have much in common, but we had that." Oh, that¡¯s sweet. Garin¡¯s voice curled into something sharp. Touching, really. Sitting at his bedside like a couple of lost dogs hoping for scraps of comfort. Did you whisper to him, too? Tell him all your regrets? Or just sit there in silence and let the guilt rot you from the inside? My fingers twitched. I clenched my jaw. Garin¡¯s voice was stronger now, pressing against my thoughts like he was there. But he wasn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t be. Jimmy kept talking. "I used to think Garin had it all figured out. That he was the smartest guy on the ship, that he knew what was best. But after Hemlock, after¡ª" He hesitated. "I don¡¯t know. Maybe I started thinking for myself." Garin let out a low chuckle. Now that¡¯s a lie. You¡¯re not thinking, Jimmy. You¡¯re just scared. You need someone to follow. You¡¯re looking at her now, aren¡¯t you? Wondering if she¡¯ll be your new leader. I forced myself to stay focused on my work. Forced my hands to keep moving, keep tightening the bolts, keep recalibrating the system. The Dragon Core intake was steady. The hydrogen siphons had locked into alignment. Fuel balance was holding. We weren¡¯t in danger. Not yet. Jimmy shook his head. "I was a dick to you. I know that. Maybe I thought it was easier to go along with Garin than to actually... I dunno, think. And now he¡¯s gone. And Reid¡ª" His jaw tightened. "Reid¡¯s still in that damn bed. And I don¡¯t know what the hell I¡¯m supposed to do now." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. What do you think, Whore? Should we tell him? Let him in on the joke? Let him know exactly why I¡¯m not here? I exhaled slowly, setting down my wrench. "Just figure it out." Jimmy snorted. "That easy, huh?" I shrugged. "No. But it¡¯s all you can do." Jimmy was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Maybe." We went back to work, this time moving in rhythm, passing tools without needing to ask, catching the problem spots before they fully registered. The tension that had been there before¡ªawkward, uncertain¡ªwasn¡¯t entirely gone, but it had shifted. Softer now. Less of a wall between us. Garin¡¯s voice had gone quiet. For now. Eventually, Jimmy exhaled. "I don¡¯t know what to make of you, Sol," he admitted. "But I don¡¯t think you¡¯re what Garin said you were." Something twisted in my chest, something too close to guilt. If you knew the truth, Jimmy, you wouldn¡¯t be saying that. I rolled my shoulders. "Just don¡¯t expect me to hold your hand through this job." Jimmy snorted. "Wouldn¡¯t dream of it." The silence that followed wasn¡¯t so heavy. Maybe this wouldn¡¯t be as bad as I thought. The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went to see Reid. He looked¡­ weak. Paler than before, his frame thinner, muscles atrophied from nearly eleven months in bed. His chest rose and fell in shallow, steady breaths, the machines beside him humming in quiet monotony. Yates had done her best to keep his body stable, but without movement, without sunlight or real food, it was wearing on him. The strongest man I knew reduced to this fragile, unmoving thing. We still didn¡¯t know why he wouldn¡¯t wake up. Yates had theories¡ªsomething about neural pathways. ¡°Promising ideas,¡± she called them, but I could see the uncertainty in her face, the weight in her voice. She was running tests, looking for answers, but there were no guarantees. Even still, without nanites or the miracle cure that was Phoenix, we didn¡¯t know how long it would take. Or if he¡¯d wake up at all. I clenched my jaw, watching the steady flicker of the heart monitor. If I could heal him, I would. But Phoenix wasn¡¯t a cure. Not for him. Not for anyone. The thought sat heavy in my chest as I left the med bay. I didn¡¯t go to my quarters. Didn¡¯t sleep. Instead, I found myself in Lab 2. My workshop. The overhead lights cast harsh shadows against the metal walls, the scent of scorched plating and synthetic oil thick in the air. The workbench was cluttered¡ªdisassembled servos, exposed wiring, the skeletal frame of an unfinished gauntlet. A bottle of whiskey sat next to my toolkit, half-empty already, but I didn¡¯t care. The alcohol settled in my veins, dulling the edges of my thoughts. Enough to keep me moving. I had spent months refining it¡ªProject Minotaur. The only thing that could put me on even footing with the Royal Guard. The enhanced combat frame integrated into my pressure suit, built to augment speed, reflexes, and raw strength. Lion fought like a force of nature, a titan among men. Their bodies were engineered for war. My father had shaped them into something more. And God knew how dangerous the Rue really were. The suit had to be perfect¡ªevery piece tailored to my frame, every adjustment made for efficiency and comfort. But there was always one issue I couldn¡¯t exactly engineer away. My chest. Fucking Knight. That bitch just had to make me voluptuous¡ªlike that was essential to whatever grand plan she and my father had cooked up. Not that I cared about the look of it¡ªI didn¡¯t¡­ not anymore¡ªbut fitting armor around it was a nightmare. Too tight, and I couldn¡¯t breathe. Too loose, and it threw off my balance. I¡¯d spent longer than I¡¯d ever admit adjusting the plating, cursing Knight every step of the way, making sure it moved with me instead of against me. Now, finally, it did. So I was here, applying everything I¡¯d learned from Wolf, testing my new sword. I refused to be less than them. The plating had been reforged¡ªlighter, denser, the servos recalibrated to handle Phoenix¡¯s regenerative strain. The neural interface was almost seamless, responding in real-time without lag. Plasma claws slid into place with mechanical precision, then retracted at a flick of my wrist. Brutal, efficient¡ªdesigned for survival. Not enough. Not yet. "You grip the blade too tightly. The plasma current will adjust to your movements¡ªlet it flow." I exhaled, flexing my fingers, feeling the hilt shift in my grasp. The plasma sword hissed to life, a blade of raw energy flickering into form. It burned bright¡ªhot enough to carve through steel, hot enough to cleanse. Like fire. Like a star burning itself out just to be reborn. Like me. Sol. A name my father chose. A promise. A curse. Control. That¡¯s what this was about. I¡¯d been powerless too many times. Watching Reid¡¯s motionless body, helpless. Facing Voss. Watching the people around me die while I survived. Not anymore. I adjusted my stance, letting the sword balance itself, the plasma flow stabilizing with the movement. It wasn¡¯t just a weapon¡ªit was an extension of my will. "Your combat instincts have improved." I scoffed, taking a swig from the bottle beside me before setting it down. ¡°Yeah, well. That¡¯s what happens when everyone wants me dead.¡± "And when you keep trying to get yourself killed." I didn¡¯t disagree. Instead, I activated the forearm mechanisms, watching as the plasma claws slid out from my left hand while my right gripped the sword. One short-range and savage, built for close-quarters brutality; the other long and precise, extending my reach for future duels. Together, they balanced instinct with discipline¡ªone for tearing through anything that got too close, the other for controlling the fight before it ever reached that point. I shifted my stance, testing the weight distribution. The claws let me close the gap, the sword dictated the flow. If I was going to stand against the Royal Guard¡ªor whatever horrors the Rue were hiding¡ªI needed both. One to kill up close. The other to end the fight before it ever got that far. More drones dropped from the ceiling, their metal limbs unfolding with mechanical precision, eyes flickering to life in synchronized menace. I exhaled, the hum of the blade vibrating through my bones. Weapons built for someone else, reforged in my hands. I surged forward, carving through them like cutting through air, plasma claws rending armor while my blade severed limbs before they could counter. The suit¡¯s framework had been fine-tuned¡ªsleek, responsive, built to move with me rather than against me. The servos synced effortlessly, adapting to each shift in stance, while the reinforced plating dispersed impact without slowing me down. It wasn¡¯t just armor anymore; it was an extension of me, honed for speed, endurance, and survival. The plasma shields had been upgraded too¡ªmore efficient, using less power while lasting longer. I¡¯d refined the recharge cycles, ensuring they wouldn¡¯t drain the suit¡¯s reserves too fast. If I was going to stand against the Royal Guard, against whatever the Rue were truly capable of, I needed every advantage I could get. "Again." I rasped. "Biomass reserves are low. You are burning through energy faster than your body can replenish. You require food and rest." I clenched my jaw. Valicar wasn¡¯t wrong. The hunger gnawed at me, deep and aching, but I ignored it. I always did. I reached for the whiskey instead, tipping the bottle back, letting the burn chase away the exhaustion. It wouldn¡¯t fix the problem, but it was easier. The plasma blade hissed out of existence. I strapped the sword to my back, locking the plating into place. The suit wasn¡¯t done. I was. I could feel it¡ªmy body was at its limit, but the armor I built had outlasted me. That should have bothered me. Instead, it made me proud. With a sigh, I grabbed a few protein bars from the supply crate, unwrapped one with my razor-sharp teeth, and scarfed it down. The first few bites were dry as hell, but my body didn¡¯t care¡ªit was starving. I barely tasted the next before it was gone, then the next. It wasn¡¯t enough, just fuel to keep me moving. The craving for fresh meat and blood still lingered, curling at the edges of my hunger. But it could wait. For now. My tongue flicked over my teeth, sharp enough to draw blood. The taste hit my senses, rich and metallic, and the hunger roared in response. I have to drown it. The cargo bay was quiet when I got there, just the usual hum of Jericho¡¯s systems and the low flicker of emergency lighting. I moved between the aisles, stepping over loose cables and the occasional misplaced tool, scanning the storage labels as I walked. Third level. Section five. One of Blackwell¡¯s stashes I had found. I stopped just short of the marked crate, running my fingers along the reinforced seal. It should have felt like a victory. A well-earned indulgence. But lately, everything felt like something was pressing back. A shift in the dim light caught my attention. I tensed, breath catching¡ªbut it was just me. Just the ghost of my own image reflected in the glossy surface of a storage panel. White hair. Red and blue eyes. And yet, for a second¡ªjust long enough to make my stomach turn¡ªmy reflection didn¡¯t match me. It held. A knowing, deliberate smile. Not an illusion. Not a trick of the light. I was looking at myself¡ªbut something else was looking back. I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. Get a grip, Sol. A voice broke the quiet. "Didn¡¯t peg you for a morning person." I glanced up. Warren stood a few steps away, arms crossed, watching me. I huffed, prying open the crate. "Didn¡¯t peg you for one either." He stepped closer, gaze flicking over the supplies. "Never really got the hang of sleeping on schedule." I snorted. "Would explain why you always look like shit." A flicker of something¡ªalmost amusement¡ªcrossed his face. "Says Sleeping Beauty herself. You spent fifty years napping, and you still wake up looking like a porcelain doll. Some of us aren¡¯t that lucky." I smirked, prying open the crate. "Guess some legends hold up better than others." The seal released with a hiss, and I reached inside, pulling out a dark glass bottle. I turned it in my hands, scanning the label. Blackwell had good taste¡ªexpensive, aged, the kind of thing that got smuggled out of dying empires. I took a sip. The burn hit smooth. Worth it. Warren watched me, expression unreadable. ¡°That¡¯s the cheap stuff,¡± he said. I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You got something better?¡± He smirked, leaning back against a stack of cargo containers. ¡°Hidden further in the bay. Captain¡¯s privilege.¡± That actually surprised me. Warren wasn¡¯t the type to offer information freely¡ªespecially not to me. I studied him, trying to gauge if this was a test, a warning, or an invitation. He must have caught my hesitation because he added, ¡°I know about Reid¡¯s booze, too.¡± He shrugged like it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°I let it be. Keeps morale high.¡± I exhaled, rolling the bottle between my hands. ¡°And Blackwell?¡± Warren scoffed, leaning back against a crate. ¡°Blackwell thinks he¡¯s got more control over this ship as leader of D Team than he really does. Truth is, me and Young have been dipping into his reserves for years. Your father letting him take up precious cargo space for it was ridiculous, but hey, might as well take advantage.¡± He smirked. ¡°Not that he knows. Or if he does, he¡¯s too stubborn to admit it. The greedy bastard is almost as prideful as Rojas¡ªjust with less to show for it.¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± I smirked, tilting the bottle slightly. ¡°I am a captain now. No better time to enjoy the privileges.¡± A flicker of amusement crossed his face. ¡°What he doesn¡¯t know won¡¯t hurt him. That stash was meant for Haven¡ªhe shouldn''t find out for at least a hundred years. Though he¡¯s already been bitching about the ones you¡¯ve found.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But really, what¡¯s he gonna do? Hell, what can any of us do?¡± That earned a short laugh. ¡°True. But still, good to know.¡± We drank in mutual understanding, the kind that didn¡¯t need words. Not quite trust¡ªbut something close enough. Then, just as Warren turned to leave, he muttered, ¡°Fourth level, section seventeen.¡± I blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Blackwell¡¯s stash,¡± Warren repeated, tone casual. ¡°Enough to last a hundred years.¡± I huffed a quiet laugh. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this why?¡± Warren glanced back at me, lips twitching in something almost like a smirk. ¡°Because I know you¡¯ll find it anyway.¡± Then he was gone. I stayed in the cargo bay a little longer, listening to the low hum of the ship, the faintest vibration of warp prep rattling through the crates around me. The colors started bleeding in¡ªthose unnatural hues I could see now. The spectrum beyond human limits. Phoenix¡¯s gift. Or curse. I took a breath. Then turned and left. Later, after looting Blackwell''s hidden stash for booze, I found Ashly on the observation deck. She was perched on the metal ledge, a bottle cradled in her hands, eyes distant as she stared at the stars. ¡°Sol! Get over here, you¡¯re the perfect drinking buddy,¡± she called out, her usual nervousness stripped away by whatever she¡¯d already knocked back. Without looking, she nudged a second bottle toward me. I grabbed it, twisting the cap off with a smirk. ¡°Hell yeah, thanks, Ash.¡± She huffed a quiet laugh, taking another swig of her own. I settled beside her, the cold metal pressing against my legs as we stared out into the void, drinking in silence. Silence stretched between us, but it wasn¡¯t heavy. Just there. Ashly took another long sip. When she lowered the bottle, her fingers fidgeted against the glass. ¡°Garin won¡¯t need my rations anymore,¡± she muttered, half to herself. I glanced at her. The way she said it¡ªit wasn¡¯t bitter, just¡­ empty. The way grief sometimes was, not fresh but worn, rubbed raw like an old wound that never quite healed. ¡°He was always a bully to me,¡± she added, swirling the bottle in her hands. ¡°You know that, right?¡± I nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°But I still miss him.¡± Her voice cracked just slightly, and she huffed out a breath, shaking her head. ¡°And that makes me a fucking idiot.¡± ¡°No.¡± I leaned back against the railing, stretching out my legs. ¡°It makes you a good person.¡± Ashly let out a soft, humorless laugh. ¡°No. I¡¯m a coward.¡± She turned her head, meeting my eyes for the first time that night. Her pupils were dilated, her face flushed from drinking too fast. ¡°You¡¯re the good person, Sol.¡± I stiffened, already shaking my head, but she cut me off. ¡°After everything Garin said about you, he was wrong. I saw what Knight did to you. What he did to you. And I still miss him, but¡­¡± She exhaled sharply, tilting the bottle against her lips, taking another swig before continuing. "I watched it happen, Sol. I watched them do it. And I still did nothing. After Wilks. After you. After everything. I told myself I wasn¡¯t part of it¡ªbut silence is the same as a yes, isn¡¯t it?" I stayed quiet, letting her talk. Ashly rubbed at her temple like she was trying to press the memories away. ¡°I left you that note,¡± she admitted. ¡°The first night you woke up. The one with the old crew photo.¡± I remembered. A picture of the original science team. Knight¡¯s face scratched out. ¡°Maybe I thought it¡¯d be enough,¡± she muttered. ¡°Maybe I thought you¡¯d take the hint and let it go.¡± She gave a weak chuckle. ¡°But you kept digging. And you found the truth.¡± I stared at the floor, feeling the weight of those words settle into my chest. Maybe she was right. Maybe I should have let it go. If I had, maybe I wouldn¡¯t be here, sitting on this ship, drowning in the aftermath. Maybe my father wouldn¡¯t have merged with Jericho. Maybe Chimera would have never been completed. Maybe Phoenix wouldn¡¯t have been a failure. Maybe I wouldn¡¯t be dealing with the consequences of knowing exactly what I am. I didn¡¯t gain anything by knowing the truth¡ªjust suffering. I should have played dumb. Taken the out Warren gave me. Stayed in my lane, followed orders. Instead, I dug. And now I was a captain in name, a ruler in practice. Unchallenged authority, according to my father¡ªaccording to Jericho. But I doubted it was that simple. How the fuck could I be a good person when I killed Garin? I swallowed, gripping the bottle a little tighter. Ashly didn¡¯t know. No one knew. As far as the crew was concerned, it was a suicide. My father¡ªor Jericho¡ªhad seen to that. Covered it up. Buried the truth. And the worst part? I didn¡¯t even feel bad about it. That¡¯s what ate at me. Not the killing itself. Not the fact that I ended his life. But the fact that I felt nothing about it. I took another drink, the alcohol burning as it slid down my throat. The silence between us stretched. Then, finally, I muttered, ¡°I¡¯m barely human, Ashly.¡± The words sat heavy, like lead in my mouth. ¡°Thank you for saying I¡¯m a good person, but the truth is¡­ I¡¯m a fucking monster.¡± Ashly exhaled, rubbing at her eyes. ¡°Yeah, well.¡± She took another sip¡ªtoo big, the kind that burned. ¡°Aren¡¯t we all?¡± I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯re drunk.¡± She blinked at me like she had to process the words, then snorted. ¡°Very. And you¡¯re¡­ blurry. Or maybe I am.¡± She frowned at the bottle like it had personally betrayed her, then shrugged and took another sip. I stood, finishing off my drink before setting the empty bottle down. Ashly didn¡¯t try to stop me as I turned to leave, just gave me a small, lopsided smile. ¡°Hey, Sol?¡± I glanced back. Ashly¡¯s expression sobered just slightly, something softer in her voice. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth¡­ I think you want to be a good person... and that''s what counts.¡± I swallowed, nodded once, then stepped away. As I walked back through the empty halls, her words lingered. Am I a good person? Or just a monster they haven¡¯t seen clearly yet? I thought back to what Ashly had said¡ªhow I was good despite who raised me. Despite my father. And for the first time in a long time, I wondered: Where did my morality even come from? Hours later, I sat in my quarters, bottle in hand, the sharp burn of alcohol tracing down my throat. Blackwell¡¯s stash¡ªstolen, but worth it. The heat settled in my stomach, numbing the weight of the day, the weight of everything. I barely registered the door chime before it hissed open. ¡°Jesus, Yates,¡± I muttered, tilting my head back against the wall. ¡°You ever hear of knocking?¡± She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable but not exactly subtle. The soft hum of the med scanner in her hand made my stomach twist. ¡°Didn¡¯t realize I needed permission to check on the crew,¡± she said. ¡°Especially when one of them is tearing through our alcohol supply like it¡¯s rations.¡± I let out a slow exhale through my nose. ¡°You here as the doctor or the shrink?¡± Yates stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind her. ¡°Whichever one you¡¯ll actually listen to.¡± I scoffed, shaking my head. ¡°Then you wasted your time.¡± She sighed, rubbing her temple like she was already tired of this conversation. ¡°Look, I get it. You¡¯ve been through hell. But you can¡¯t keep acting like this isn¡¯t a problem.¡± I lifted the bottle, swirled the liquid inside. ¡°Funny. Feels like a solution to me.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Her voice was sharper now, edged with something I couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°And what about the crew? What happens when they start seeing you like this? You think they¡¯re not already watching? That they don¡¯t notice?¡± I gritted my teeth. ¡°They can mind their own damn business.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how this works, Sol,¡± she shot back. ¡°You¡¯re a captain now. People look at you for stability, whether you like it or not. And if they see you spiraling, what do you think that does to them?¡± Something in my chest tightened¡ªhatefully, resentfully¡ªbecause she was right. But I wasn¡¯t about to give her the satisfaction. I snorted, taking another sip. ¡°Then maybe they should find a better role model.¡± Yates watched me for a long moment, then exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to talk to me,¡± she said, voice softer now. ¡°But sooner or later, you¡¯re gonna have to talk to someone. Otherwise, you¡¯re not making it to Haven.¡± I scoffed. ¡°Yeah? We¡¯ll see.¡± She stared at me like she wanted to say more, but eventually just turned, stepping toward the door. Just before it slid shut behind her, she muttered, ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m still here when you¡¯re ready.¡± The room was too quiet after that. The exhaustion pressed in, blurring the edges of my thoughts. I should sleep. The bottle slipped from my fingers, rolling across the floor with a dull clink. I closed my eyes. The darkness came quick. Not the deep, drowning kind¡ªjust a slow unraveling, a gentle pull at the edges of awareness. Sleep came in fragments, flickering in and out, slipping between cracks I didn¡¯t remember making. The hum of the ship faded. The weight of my body vanished. And then, as always, the whispers began. At first, they were just murmurs, curling low at the base of my skull, the kind of sound that wasn¡¯t quite there but still managed to press against my thoughts. Then, something else. Something heavier. A presence. Not my father¡¯s. Not Garin¡¯s. Not the other''s. Something older. I tried to move, but there was no body to move. Just the sensation of watching, listening¡ªbeing present in a space that didn¡¯t exist. The darkness shifted, rippling like disturbed water. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. I turned¡ªif turning was even possible¡ªand then I saw him. At first, I thought it was Lion. But no. That wasn¡¯t right. The figure that stepped forward was familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. Tall, lean, draped in layered robes I hadn¡¯t seen in¡ªhow long? He moved with that same quiet, measured grace I had once admired, his stillness sharp, searching. Studying me. Waiting. His face, worn by time but sharp as ever, held something unreadable. I knew him. But how? Then his voice¡ªsteady, cutting through the fog in my mind. "He ripped me from your mind, Sol. Buried me. But you can still feel it, can¡¯t you? The gaps. The pieces that never quite fit." The name surfaced before I could stop it, dragging memories in its wake. The streets of a dying Earth. The stench¡ªshit, piss, pollution, and rot. Smog so thick it swallowed the sun, pressing down like a second sky. Starving people huddled in alleys, their eyes hollow, their voices long since lost to despair. And behind it all, looming above the filth like a goddamn monolith¡ªVoss Tower. A man stood beside me, his voice steady, unraveling knowledge I barely understood but clung to like a lifeline. The fragments hit like glass breaking in reverse¡ªshards snapping back into place, forming something almost whole. Altis. The first person outside my father¡¯s world who made me feel real. More than an experiment. More than a piece of someone else¡¯s plan. He had taught me about America before the oligarchs. Before the wars. Before the planet was choked to death and left to rot. He spoke of freedom, of democracy¡ªnot as myths, but as things that had existed. Things that mattered. A world before Julian Voss. And now, he was here. The man who taught me not to be a monster. The only person who had ever shown me right from wrong. My teacher. My father¡¯s teacher. Given extended life, like the captains. Given time he could have used to make a difference. Until my father had him executed. He studied me as he always had, but something had changed. There was a weight in his eyes. A quiet, knowing sadness. "You remember." Not a question. A statement. I swallowed, throat tight. "Yeah," I said hoarsely. "I remember now." Altis nodded, slow and deliberate. "Then you understand why I¡¯m here." I didn¡¯t. Not fully. But I felt it pressing at the edges of my mind¡ªsomething I was supposed to know, something stolen from me. His gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Your father erased me from your life, Sol. Took me from you like I was never there. But no matter what he stripped from your memories, no matter how much he tried to shape you into something else¡­ he couldn¡¯t take everything.¡± I swallowed, my throat tight. ¡°You still remember what I taught you,¡± he said, softer now. ¡°Even if you don¡¯t know why.¡± The weight between us deepened, something pressing at the edges of my mind, just out of reach. Then, quieter¡ªmore certain¡ª¡°Sol.¡± He exhaled, his voice steady. ¡°There¡¯s a truth about Julian Voss that even you were never meant to know.¡± The world lurched. The streets dissolved. A house. Middle-class. Modest. Lived-in, but fraying at the edges. The hum of the television droned in the background, a news anchor¡¯s voice rattling off numbers¡ªmarkets crashing, inflation rising, job losses at an all-time high. In a study, bills littered the desk¡ªforeclosure notices, overdue payments, red ink slashing across the paper like open wounds. A clock ticked steadily on the wall, unbothered by the ruin unfolding beneath it. A boy stood in the doorway. Small. Frail. Silent. Inside, a man sat hunched at the desk, staring at nothing. His hands trembled as he loaded a single round into a revolver. Click. The boy didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t breathe. The man exhaled, slow and ragged. Fingers clenching the barrel, thumb tracing the worn metal like it held an answer. Then, without hesitation, he put the gun in his mouth. The boy took a step forward¡ªjust one. The man squeezed his eyes shut. Pulled the trigger. Boom. Blood. So much blood. Splattered across the desk, the walls, the peeling wallpaper. The chair rocked back, the body slumped forward, and the world went still. The boy didn¡¯t scream. Didn¡¯t cry. Just stood there, watching as his father sagged against the desk, mouth still open in a final, silent word that never came. Piercing blue eyes, unblinking. Cold. Then, he turned and walked away.