The hum of the ship's core filled the silence like a low heartbeat, steady but hollow, as if the vessel itself was breathing shallowly. Captain Kael Mercer stood alone on the observation deck, hands behind his back, watching the drifting debris of a fractured moon outside. The ship glided past it without sound, but Kael felt the echoes of a thousand shattered histories hanging in space.
He had seen destruction before, but this was different. This moon hadn't collapsed from age or natural erosion. Something had broken it ripped it apart like paper.
And something powerful always leaves a trace.
Kael exhaled slowly. That familiar heaviness settled in his chest again, the same weight he'd carried since the crew went missing. The same weight that kept him awake in the hours when the ship dimmed to night mode and the silence became too loud.
"Captain," the ship's AI murmured, its voice soft and genderless. "You have been standing here for twenty-three minutes. Your heart rate indicates distress."
"I'm aware," Kael muttered.
"Would you like a sedative?"
"No."
A brief pause.
"A breathing exercise, then?"
Kael looked up at the shattered moon again. "If breathing could fix anything, this galaxy wouldn't be falling apart."
"Noted," the AI replied.
Kael almost smirked. Almost.
He turned away from the window, shrugging the tension out of his shoulders. The ship's internal lights flickered a pulse, a blink, a hesitation. It wasn't the usual cycle. This flicker was sharp, almost nervous.
Then came the tremor.
A low vibration rolled through the floor. The panels on the wall buzzed softly, like they were whispering warnings. Kael paused, listening, his hand drifting toward the small device clipped to his belt. A shard of instinct cut through his thoughts cold and practiced.
"AI," he said, "status report."
"Unidentified energy signature detected off the bow," the AI answered. Its voice remained calm, but the lights dimmed again, betraying the truth. The ship was unsettled.
Kael headed for the control room without a second thought. The corridors were quiet, lit by faint blue strips that traced his steps. Every sound echoed too clearly. Every shadow seemed a little too thick.
He reached the door, but it slid open before he touched it.
Inside, the star map flickered with static. A single blip glowed red, pulsing steadily like a dying heartbeat.
"What are we looking at?" Kael asked.
"Energy reading is unstable," the AI said. "Composition unknown."
"Unknown?" Kael repeated.
"We have no matching data in the database."
That caught his attention. There were very few things left in the galaxy the ship didn't have information on. And most of them were better left alone.
The blip pulsed again, brighter this time.
Kael leaned closer. "Magnify."
The screen zoomed in. At the center of a swirling cloud of cosmic dust, a small object glimmered faintly, like a shard of light trapped in darkness.
"Is that a vessel?" Kael asked.
"Possibly."
"Life signs?"
"Unable to confirm."
Kael didn't like that answer.
He inhaled slowly, weighing the risk. But he already knew what he would do. Ever since the crew vanished, silence had filled every corridor of the ship. An emptiness that followed him like a shadow he couldn't outrun. If there was even the slightest chance of survivors anyone who could explain what happened out there he had to take it.
"Prepare a drone," Kael ordered. "I want a full scan."
The drone launched a moment later, streaking into the void on silent thrusters. The camera feed illuminated the dust cloud in pale blue light. Visibility was low. Spectral particles floated like ash.
Then the object came into view.
A twisted hull, metallic and scorched, its structure half-collapsed. Whatever ship it used to be, it was ancient older than the Alliance, older than any colony Kael knew. Symbols were carved along its edges, curved and jagged, nothing like human lettering.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"Enhance markings."
The symbols sharpened. They weren't language. They were warnings.
"AI," Kael said slowly, "analyze the structure. Is it transmitting anything?"
"Scanning… yes. A signal is being emitted."
"Translate."
There was a long pause.
Then the AI spoke again, voice lower than usual.
"Translation incomplete. But the primary message is clear."
Kael waited.
"It says: Do not enter. Do not awaken it."
A cold breath slid down Kael's spine.
"Awaken what?" he asked quietly.
Before the AI could answer, the drone camera flickered. Something moved inside the wreck a shape shifting through the darkness, too quick to identify. The drone adjusted its lights automatically.
The shape froze.
Kael leaned forward, watching the screen.
The figure if it was a figure turned slowly toward the camera. The light struck its surface, revealing a smooth metallic face, cracked down the center like a broken mask.
Then its eyes opened.
Two glowing white slits.
Kael's breath caught.
"AI," he said, voice steady despite the cold in his chest, "bring the drone back. Now."
"Attempting retrieval," the AI replied.
The creature moved.
It lunged faster than the drone could react. The feed broke into static, then into complete darkness.
The red blip on the map flared violently.
Kael exhaled through his teeth.
"Whatever that thing is," he said, "we're not going near it."
Then the AI spoke again.
"Captain… the object is changing direction."
Kael froze.
"Towards us."
The lights flickered, darker this time. The hum of the ship's core deepened, almost like it sensed fear.
Kael stared at the screen.
The ancient wreck and whatever lived inside it was drifting closer.
And the void felt suddenly much smaller.