The jet sank like a stone. Water hissed through the cracks, filling the cockpit. It was cold, but I didn't feel it. Not like that.
Through the fractured canopy, I saw it. The Leviathan. XN-Ω.
It drifted just below the surface,a shadow darker than the deep. One glowing eye swiveled toward me. Not angry. Not curious.
Just…aware.
So this was it. This was the moment.
The glow started in its chest. Soft, then blinding. A blue light that ate the water, the wreck, the dark. It hit me like a silent sun exploding in my face.
Then nothing.
★ —. —. —. ★
I woke up on a shore. Wet sand under my back. Salt on my tongue. I was breathing.
My suit was intact. No broken bones. No pressure burns. Nothing. For a guy who can't feel pain, that's as close to fine as it gets.
I pushed myself up, pulled my visor off, and rubbed my eyes. The ocean stretched out in front of me, normal as anything. I had no idea how I was alive.
Then I saw it.
A HUD floated in the center of my vision. Clean, translucent. Like a targeting display painted on my eyeballs.
I swiped at it. My hand passed right through.
I tried again, slower. The icons glowed, unmoving.
That's when I noticed the rest.
Tags. On everything.
The water in front of me got brackets,then numbers.
[Water Body]
Depth: 14.3 m
Temp: 19.2°C
Salinity: 3.4%
Current Flow: Mild → East
I blinked hard. It didn't go away.
Below the surface, shapes moved. More tags formed.
[Atlantic Glassfish – Count: 7]
Avg Size: 11 cm
Range: 3.2 m below surface
[Abyssal Needle-Ray – Juvenile – Count: 1]
Range: 5.8 m below surface
I froze. I shouldn't know any of that. Not by looking. Not through seawater.
I lifted my hand.
[Tactical Glove – ACI Standard V]
Integrity: 89%
User Sync: Lucas Stratton Paige
My mouth went dry.
"Am I dead?" I muttered.
The comms in my ear crackled to life, slicing through the thought.
{Blackbird-3, respond. Any survivors? Kepler's Edge signature is gone. Repeat, Edge is gone.}
The HUD was still there, tagging the waves, the rocks, my glove. I forced my voice steady.
"This is Frost.I'm alive. Sending coordinates."
I sent the location, trying to ignore the panels shifting in my sight. Like the world was being inventoried, and I was just the lens.
{Copy. Hold position. ACI evac inbound. ETA four minutes.}
Four minutes. That was fast.
It clicked then. ACI already had a search team in the air before I even called in. They must have lost Kepler's Edge signal the moment the Omega hit. They weren't coming to rescue a pilot; they were coming to find out what the hell happened. I was just the only piece left to recover.
I stood there. The wind off the water pressed my suit flat. Everywhere I looked, the HUD calmly measured. The sand grain size. The coastline curve. The storm front moving in. It even showed a faint, fading biomass reading way offshore, right where the Leviathan had been.
Right on time, the thrum of rotors cut through the mist. An ACI evac bird, engines whining that specific pulse-thrust pitch.
It landed, kicking up a sandstorm. Two Wingmen dropped out, armored, rifles ready.
"Paige?" one called. His visor fixed on me. "Hell, sir. Command said you met a Breach Class and walked away. That's… that's a legend already."
As I looked at him, new lines slid into my vision.
[Name: Raikov, Dmitri]
[Rank: Wingman]
[Age: 32]
[Equipment: Standard ADA Rifle – AR-92]
The tags weren't in the air. They were just there, stuck to my sight.
He didn't know why I stared a beat too long.
"Yeah," I said, as the HUD listed his heart rate and stress level. "Didn't feel legendary."
They got me aboard. The door sealed, muffling the world. The cabin hummed with sterile blue light.
Raikov sat across from me,still looking at me like I'd crawled out of a grave.
"Breach Class," he said under his breath. "Most people see one and lose their mind. You lived through the strike radius."
"I was busy sinking," I said. "Didn't have time for the view."
He huffed a laugh. I barely heard it. The HUD was tagging the cabin walls, the alloy composition, Raikov all over again.
I didn't react. I nodded. I breathed. I pretended this was normal.
It wasn't.
Ten minutes later, we were back at ACI Command. The bay doors opened, light flooding in. The skids touched down.
Raikov saluted. "Sir, Command wants you on rest cycle. Debrief in four hours. Medical's optional—they said you, uh, don't feel pain anyway."
I nodded."Understood."
He hesitated."Glad you made it."
I stepped off without answering. The hangar smelled the same—ion fuel, steel, recycled cold air—but none of it felt real. The HUD was still with me, a ghost in my glasses.
Tags hung over every person walking by, every crate, every drone zipping overhead. Everything was labeled. Measured. Known.
And I was alive.
I shouldn't have been. Not against a Breach Class. Not after that beam. Not after sinking that deep.
Maybe it meant something.
Maybe it didn't.
But as the hangar doors slid shut behind me, I knew one thing for sure, clearer than any system tag:
Whatever saved me… whatever changed me…
It wasn't done yet.
★★ .—. ★★