The supply depot appeared on the viewscreen as a cluster of rusting metal spheres connected by narrow tubes—a relic from the early days of orbital expansion. Kael guided their shuttle into the designated bay, his hands steady on the controls despite the exhaustion weighing on his bones.
"Depot Sigma-7," Lysara said, checking her scanner. "Built during the first corporate expansion wave. Mostly automated now, run by a single caretaker who doesn't ask questions as long as you pay in untraceable credits."
"And we don't have any," Kael noted, glancing at their depleted resource display.
"We have something better," Lysara said, pulling a small device from her pocket. "An old resistance key. It overrides the payment systems if you know the backdoor codes." She paused, studying Kael's face. "You look worse than before. The pain sharing is wearing off completely, isn't it?"
Kael nodded, flexing his fingers. The constant ache in his ribs had returned with a vengeance. "Kaelen's not offering to help this time."
"Maybe he's waiting to see how desperate you get," Lysara suggested darkly. "Or testing your limits."
Kael didn't respond. He was too busy fighting the whispers in his mind—fragments of Kaelen's memories bleeding through the barriers he'd tried to maintain. Images of a laboratory. A young woman with dark hair—Elara Voss—arguing with military officials. And beneath it all, a deep, abiding rage at being contained.
They called it protection. They called it necessary. They were wrong.
"Stop it," Kael muttered under his breath. "I need to focus."
Lysara glanced at him curiously but didn't ask questions. She'd learned when to push and when to give him space. "I'll handle the caretaker. You stay with the shuttle and monitor Elara's stasis field. If it drops below 85%, we need to move immediately."
Kael nodded, watching as Lysara donned a nondescript jacket to cover her injuries and weapons. Before she exited the shuttle, she paused at the hatch.
"One more thing," she said. "Whatever happens out there, don't let Kaelen take control. Not even for a second. I don't trust what he might do with your body while I'm gone."
"I won't," Kael promised, though the words felt hollow even to himself.
As the hatch sealed behind Lysara, Kael turned to the cryo-pod. The stasis field was holding at 92%, but the power cells were fading faster than expected. He ran diagnostics, his fingers moving with confidence he didn't feel.
[Echo Core active][Suggestion: Gamma-7 echo contains technical knowledge of stasis field repair]
Kael hesitated. Accessing the Gamma-7 echo was safe—it was just skills and memories, no conscious presence. But every time he used an echo, the barriers between himself and Kaelen weakened slightly.
Let me help you, Kaelen offered. I designed these systems. Elara's life depends on this.
Kael closed his eyes, weighing his options. The Gamma-7 echo would give him the technical knowledge, but Kaelen would give him certainty. In the end, Elara's life was worth the risk.
"Fine," Kael whispered. "But just for this. No other memories. No other voices."
I honor your boundaries, little brother.
The knowledge flowed into Kael's mind—not as an invasion, but as a gentle offering. Schematics of the stasis field generator appeared in his vision, highlighting weak points and potential repairs. With steady hands, Kael rerouted power from non-essential shuttle systems to reinforce the failing field.
As he worked, Kaelen shared fragments of memory—not the dangerous ones, but small moments that humanized him. Late nights in the lab with Elara, arguing about theoretical physics. The taste of real coffee, smuggled past corporate restrictions. The sound of his brother Jace—Kael's father—laughing before everything changed.
We were happy once. Before they made us choose sides.
"Why did they make you choose?" Kael asked silently as he finished the repairs.
Because power demands sacrifice. The Council wanted the Echo Core's abilities without its cost. They wanted to control fate without becoming it.
The stasis field stabilized at 97%, giving them another twelve hours before critical degradation. Kael wiped sweat from his brow, exhaustion hitting him like a physical blow.
[System warning: Neural fatigue at critical levels. Recommended: 4 hours minimum rest.]
Rest. What a luxury that seemed now.
A proximity alert chimed softly. Kael checked the shuttle's external cameras, his blood running cold.
Lysara was backed against a wall by three armed figures in mercenary gear. The depot's caretaker—a gaunt man with cybernetic eyes—stood nearby, counting credits with trembling hands.
"They're scanning her," Kael muttered, activating the shuttle's enhanced audio. "Looking for weapons."
Lysara's voice came through clearly despite the distance. "I told you, I'm just passing through. My ship had a fuel leak."
"Fuel leaks don't require military-grade sidearms," one of the mercenaries replied, his accent marking him as ex-military. "Or resistance encryption keys. Who are you really?"
Kael's hand hovered over the shuttle's weapons console. Standard procedure would be to power up silently, take aim, and disable the mercenaries with precise shots. But his fingers wouldn't move.
I can handle this. Let me show you how it's done.
"No," Kael whispered firmly. "This is my fight. My choice."
He activated the shuttle's external speakers instead. "I'd suggest letting her go. Our ship has enough firepower to turn this entire depot into space dust."
The mercenaries spun toward the shuttle, weapons raised. Lysara took advantage of their distraction to slide away from the wall.
"Empty threat," the lead mercenary called back. "Your ship's power signature is minimal. You're running on emergency batteries."
Kael accessed the Echo Core's predictive abilities, seeing three possible outcomes of this confrontation. In two of them, someone died—either Lysara or one of the mercenaries. In the third...
Create a diversion. The depot's old fusion reactor has a maintenance hatch on the eastern sector. Overload it slightly—enough to trigger alarms but not cause damage.
Kael smiled grimly. "Last chance. Let her go, or I demonstrate exactly why this depot has emergency protocols for reactor instability."
The mercenaries exchanged uncertain glances. The lead one grabbed Lysara's arm. "You're bluffing."
Kael didn't respond. He rerouted auxiliary power through the shuttle's comms array, sending a precisely tuned signal toward the depot's reactor control systems. The signal mimicked an overload warning—a trick he'd learned from Kaelen's memories.
Alarms blared throughout the depot, red emergency lights flashing. The mercenaries hesitated, caught between their prize and their survival instincts.
"Now!" Kael shouted through the speakers.
Lysara moved like lightning. A pressure point strike dropped the mercenary holding her. A well-placed kick disarmed another. The third raised his weapon, but Lysara was already behind him, applying a chokehold that left him unconscious.
The caretaker had vanished at the first alarm.
Kael opened the shuttle hatch as Lysara approached, limping slightly but otherwise unharmed. She carried three weapons and several pouches of supplies.
"Nice diversion," she said, climbing aboard. "How did you know about the reactor protocols?"
Kael closed the hatch behind her. "Lucky guess."
Lysara studied him carefully as she secured the stolen weapons. "No. That was too precise. You accessed the Core again, didn't you?"
Kael didn't deny it. "I needed to save you."
"And what did it cost you this time?" Lysara asked, her voice gentle but insistent.
Kael hesitated, then touched his temple. "I can't remember my mother's face anymore. Just... general features. Not the details. Not her smile."
Lysara's expression softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Kael said, powering up the engines. "It was worth it."
As they lifted off from the depot, Kael felt Kaelen's presence stirring within him, pleased by the successful rescue. But beneath that satisfaction was something darker—a calculation, a plan unfolding.
This is only the beginning, little brother. The mercenaries were sent by someone. Someone who knew we'd come here.
"Who sent them?" Kael asked silently.
Someone with resources. Someone who tracked our escape from Neptune-7. Someone who wants the Core more than they fear the Guardian.
Lysara was checking the stolen weapons, her expression grim. "These aren't standard mercenary gear. This is CorpSec issue—Neptune-7 security division, to be precise. Someone sent them after us."
Kael felt a chill. "How would they know we'd stop here?"
Lysara's eyes met his. "They wouldn't. Unless they have someone on the inside. Someone who knew our route."
Mei's face flashed in Kael's mind—her worried expression when she'd given him the chip that activated the Echo Core. Had she set him up intentionally? Or had she been forced?
She was afraid, Kaelen whispered. But not of what you think. She carries an echo too, little brother. A small one. That's why she could feel the Core's activation.
"Mei has an echo?" Kael asked aloud.
Lysara looked up sharply. "What did you say?"
Kael realized his mistake too late. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
Lysara put down the weapon she was examining. "Kael, if Kaelen is telling you something important, I need to know. We don't have room for secrets between us right now."
Kael struggled with the decision. Trusting Lysara meant trusting Kaelen's information. And he wasn't sure he could trust either of them completely.
"Kaelen says Mei has an echo too," Kael admitted finally. "A small one. That's why she could feel the Core's activation. That's why she was afraid."
Lysara's face paled. "That's impossible. Echo integration requires genetic compatibility and neural stability. Mei Lin is... was just a maintenance technician."
"Was?" Kael caught the past tense immediately.
Lysara looked away. "I checked the public feeds while I was getting supplies. Neptune-7 Security reported an incident in Sector Gamma. One fatality—a maintenance technician named Mei Lin, caught in a containment breach."
Kael felt the words like physical blows. Mei was dead. Because of him. Because of the Echo Core.
She sacrificed herself to give you time. She knew what activating the Core would cost.
"She knew," Kael whispered. "She knew what would happen when I touched that server."
Lysara nodded slowly. "She must have. And she did it anyway. That means she was working for someone who wanted the Core activated. Someone who was willing to sacrifice her to make it happen."
Kael slammed his fist against the console, the pain a welcome distraction from the grief threatening to overwhelm him. "Who? Who would do that?"
Before Lysara could answer, the shuttle's proximity alarm sounded again. This time, the threat was clear on the viewscreen—a sleek corporate vessel matching the one they'd encountered after leaving Neptune-7.
"Chronos Division," Lysara breathed. "The Corporation's temporal enforcement arm. They're not supposed to operate outside corporate space."
Kael accessed the Echo Core's threat assessment, feeling Kaelen's presence expand as they shared the mental load.
[Echo Core active][Threat analysis: Chronos Enforcement Vessel "Axiom"][Armament: Class-4 temporal disruptors][Crew complement: 12 (8 human, 4 synthetic)][Echo signature detected: 1 conscious user (low power)]
"They have an echo user," Kael said. "But weak. Very weak."
Lysara was already plotting an evasive course. "We can't outrun them. Not with our damaged engines. And we can't fight them—they have temporal disruptors that can unravel our molecular structure."
Kael closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself. Instead of surrendering to Kaelen, he tried to find a middle ground—a way to use the Echo Core's power while maintaining control.
The asteroid field ahead. Navigate through the densest section. Their ship is too large to follow precisely.
"The asteroid field," Kael said suddenly. "If we take the shuttle through the densest section, they won't be able to follow without risking their hull."
"That's suicide!" Lysara protested. "Even with your predictive abilities, the odds of navigating that field are less than 5%."
"Not with Kaelen's help," Kael said. "He knows these asteroids. He mapped them years ago during the early Echo Core tests."
Lysara stared at him. "You're talking about giving him partial control again. After what happened the last time."
"After what happened the last time, we survived," Kael countered. "And Elara is still alive. We don't have better options."
Lysara's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Fine. But I want safeguards. If I see any sign that he's taking more than you agreed to, I'll shut down the Core interface myself."
Kael didn't tell her that there was no off switch for the Echo Core. That once an echo was integrated, it couldn't be removed without destroying the host. Instead, he simply nodded and began the synchronization process.
Trust me, little brother. I've navigated worse.
The synchronization was different this time—less invasive, more collaborative. Kaelen didn't flood his mind with memories or emotions. Instead, he offered specific knowledge: asteroid trajectories, gravitational eddies, safe paths through the chaos.
Kael's hands moved over the controls with supernatural precision, the shuttle dancing through the asteroid field like a leaf on a breeze. Behind them, the Axiom fired repeatedly, energy blasts illuminating the darkness but failing to connect.
"They're hailing us," Lysara reported, her voice tight with tension.
Kael didn't respond. All his focus was on the path ahead, on the delicate balance between his consciousness and Kaelen's. The asteroids grew denser, the safe paths narrower. One wrong move would mean death.
[Warning: Neural stress at 89%. Synchronization stability decreasing.]
"Kael," Lysara said urgently. "You're bleeding again. Your nose."
Kael wiped blood from his chin without breaking concentration. The pain was distant, unimportant compared to the task at hand. He could feel Kaelen's presence growing stronger, feeding on his determination.
Almost there. Just a little further.
The densest part of the asteroid field loomed ahead—a chaotic maze of tumbling rocks where even the Echo Core's predictive abilities struggled to find a path.
Trust me completely for the next thirty seconds. Just thirty seconds.
Kael hesitated. Complete trust meant surrender. And surrender had costs he wasn't sure he could afford.
Lysara's hand covered his on the controls. "Do it," she said quietly. "I'll be right here when you come back."
That was all the reassurance Kael needed. He lowered his mental barriers completely, letting Kaelen take the reins.
The world shifted.
Blue light filled Kael's vision as Kaelen's consciousness flowed through him. The shuttle responded to thoughts rather than physical inputs, weaving through the asteroid field with impossible grace. Kael watched from within his own mind, a passenger in his body, as Kaelen navigated the deadly course with casual precision.
Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.
As promised, Kaelen released control. Kael gasped as his own consciousness snapped back into place, his body trembling with exhaustion and strain.
"We made it," Lysara whispered. "We're clear."
Kael checked the viewscreen. The Axiom had stopped at the edge of the dense field, unwilling to risk its larger hull. But it wasn't retreating. It was waiting.
"They're not giving up," Kael said, his voice hoarse.
"No," Lysara agreed. "They'll wait for reinforcements. Or for us to come out."
Kael slumped back in his seat, the pain in his head almost blinding. He could feel the cost of that synchronization—a memory slipping away even as he tried to hold onto it. His first day at the maintenance academy. The name of his instructor. Gone.
You're stronger than you know, little brother. Each time we synchronize, you retain more of yourself.
"Is that supposed to comfort me?" Kael asked silently.
It's the truth. And truth is all we have left.
Lysara was checking their remaining fuel and supplies. "We have enough to reach Titan Colony, but not with this level of engine damage. We need another stop—somewhere the Corporation doesn't have influence."
Kael accessed star charts through the Echo Core, Kaelen's knowledge guiding him to hidden locations known only to those who had walked the boundaries of time.
"There's a place," Kael said finally. "A settlement on the dark side of Janus Prime. Miners, mostly. Independent. They trade in information as much as ore."
Lysara raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know about this place?"
"Kaelen was there once," Kael admitted. "Before he was contained. He has... connections there."
Lysara studied him for a long moment. "This is getting dangerous, Kael. Every time you use him, you lose a piece of yourself. And every time you trust him, we end up in deeper trouble."
"What choice do I have?" Kael asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Without him, we'd be dead already. Without him, Elara will die before we reach Titan. Without him, I wouldn't even know who my father really was."
Lysara sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. I just... I worry that one day you'll look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back."
Kael closed his eyes, seeing not his reflection but memories that weren't his own. Faces of people Kaelen had loved and lost. Cities that existed only in collapsed timelines. Choices that had shattered worlds.
"I worry about that too," he admitted.
As they plotted the course to Janus Prime, Kael accessed the Echo Core's interface one more time, searching for something he hadn't dared to look for before.
[User history query][Subject: Mei Lin][Result: Genetic resonance detected][Echo status: Dormant (0.4% integration)][Probability of intentional activation: 97.3%]
Mei hadn't just had a small echo. Someone had deliberately activated it in her. Someone who knew about the Echo Core and its requirements. Someone who had set this entire chain of events in motion.
There are players in this game you haven't even seen yet, little brother. The Corporation is just a pawn. The Chronos Division is just a piece. The true players move in the spaces between timelines.
"Who?" Kael asked silently, already fearing the answer.
The architects. The ones who created the Echo Core technology before your father perfected it. They never stopped watching. Never stopped waiting.
Kael looked at Lysara, who was already drifting into an exhausted sleep at the co-pilot station. He had brought her into this mess, and now she was in as deep as he was. Deeper, maybe, since she didn't have echoes to protect her.
She chose this path. Just as you did. Just as Mei did.
"She didn't choose to die," Kael whispered.
No. But she chose to give you a chance. That's what matters.
The shuttle slipped into warp, carrying them toward Janus Prime and whatever waited there. Behind them, the Axiom remained at the edge of the asteroid field, its weapons powered down but ready.
And far behind that, in the darkness between stars, something ancient and hungry tracked their path. The Guardian had not been deterred by the asteroid field. It had simply found another route.
Kael could feel it in the Echo Core's subtle vibrations—a predator stalking its prey.
It's coming, little brother. And it's not alone this time.
As sleep finally claimed Kael at the controls, his last conscious thought was of Mei's face—vague and indistinct now, fading like all the other memories he'd sacrificed. Had she known this would be the cost? Had she accepted it willingly?
In his dreams, Kael saw Mei standing on a hill overlooking a city that no longer existed. In her hand, she held a small blue crystal that pulsed with the same light as the Echo Core.
And around her neck hung a pendant bearing the same symbol Kael had seen etched into the walls of Neptune-7's forgotten passages.
The symbol of the Guardian.
But this time, the symbol was different. Broken. Reformed into something new.
A symbol of rebellion.
Before Kael could understand what it meant, the dream shifted. He was standing in a white room with glass walls. Scientists in lab coats watched him through the glass. A man who looked like him, but older, with a scar across his throat, smiled sadly before turning away.
This wasn't a memory from Kaelen. This was something else. Something new.
Welcome to your first pre-echo, little brother. The future is watching you now.
Then, nothing.
The shuttle drifted silently through the void, carrying its fragile cargo of lives and memories toward an uncertain future. Inside, Kael slept deeply for the first time since activating the Echo Core.
But his dreams were not his own.