Aeron was midway through his shift when his mobile began to vibrate.
At first, he ignored it.
Out here, deep in the mining belt, interruptions were common—automated alerts, system pings, the occasional check-in from the dock authority. Nothing worth breaking rhythm for. He adjusted the pressure on the drill controls, eyes locked on the mineral readouts dancing across the console.
The vibration came again.
Longer this time.
Annoyed, Aeron reached for the phone without looking, ready to silence it. But the moment his eyes caught the screen, his hand froze.
arica town General Hospital.
The world seemed to tilt slightly, as if gravity itself had shifted. His throat tightened, and a cold knot formed in his stomach.
"No," he muttered under his breath.
For a second, he just stared. The phone continued to vibrate, relentless, patient—like it knew it wouldn't be ignored. Aeron swallowed hard and answered.
"Hello?"
"Is this Aeron?" a calm but urgent voice asked from the other end.
"Yes. This is him."
"This is arica town General Hospital. I'm calling regarding your sister, Lyna."
Aeron's grip tightened around the phone.
"What about her?" he asked, already bracing himself.
There was a brief pause—just long enough to be terrifying.
"Your sister was admitted earlier today. Her condition has worsened in the last hour. The doctors need you to come to the hospital immediately."
The words hit him like a physical blow.
"Worsened?" Aeron repeated. "She was stable. I—I talked to her yesterday."
"I understand," the staff member replied gently. "But things have changed. I'm very sorry to inform you like this over the phone, but it's important you come as soon as possible."
Aeron's thoughts scattered. Machines hummed around him, the ship's systems carrying on as if nothing had happened, as if his entire world hadn't just cracked open.
"How bad is it?" he asked, his voice barely steady.
"I'm afraid I can't discuss details over the phone. Please come urgently."
That was enough.
"I'm on my way," Aeron said sharply—and before the staff member could respond, he ended the call.
The silence afterward was deafening.
For a second, he sat there, unmoving, staring at nothing. Then instinct took over.
He shut down the mining drill in one swift motion. Warning lights flashed as operations terminated mid-cycle, but he didn't care. He yanked the controls, rotating the ship away from the rock face and toward open space.
"Abort mission," he said aloud, voice tight. "Emergency departure."
The ship's AI chimed calmly, "Mission aborted. Confirming full disengage."
Outside the viewport, the vast black of space opened up, broken only by distant stars and the faint glow of the Vacuum Rift ahead—a shimmering tear in space used for rapid transit.
Aeron's hands shook as he pushed the throttle forward.
"Full power," he snapped.
The engines roared to life, vibrating through the hull. His jaw clenched, eyes burning as the ship surged forward. Thoughts of Lyna flooded his mind—her laugh, her stubborn optimism, the way she always told him not to work himself to death.
You'll be fine, she had said last time. It's just a rough patch.
Fifteen minutes.
That was all it took, but it felt like a lifetime.
The moment the ship exited the rift and the familiar skyline of town came into view, Aeron was already preparing to land. Towers of steel and glass rose beneath him, bathed in the soft glow of sun light reflecting by the building in the broad dayl. He barely noticed.
He brought the ship down hard in the public dock near the town center, ignoring the automated complaint about unsafe landing speed. The hatch hissed open before the engines had fully cooled.
Aeron jumped out, boots hitting the platform with force, and broke into a run.
"Sir! You need to—" a dock attendant began.
Aeron didn't stop.
He flagged down the first taxi he saw, practically throwing himself into the back seat.
"Hospital," he said, breathless. "town General hospital. Now."
The driver glanced at him in the mirror, catching the panic written all over his face.
"Hang on," the driver said—and floored it.
The city blurred past the windows. Aeron's knee bounced uncontrollably as he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, fingers laced together like a prayer he didn't believe in anymore.
Please, he thought. Just let me get there in time.
The taxi screeched to a stop in front of the hospital entrance.
Aeron shoved credits into the driver's hand before the meter even finished calculating.
"Keep the change," he said, already out the door.
Inside, the hospital smelled of antiseptic and recycled air. Bright lights stabbed at his tired eyes as he rushed to the reception desk.
"My sister," he said urgently. "Lyna. I got a call."
The receptionist's expression softened instantly.
"Yes. They're expecting you. Second floor, intensive care."
Without another word, Aeron turned and ran.
Every step echoed in his ears as he took the stairs two at a time. Fear pressed down on his chest, heavy and relentless, but he forced himself forward.
Whatever awaited him behind those doors—good or bad—he was here now.
And he wasn't leaving her side again.