My fleet moves into the attack.
It doesn't feel like motion—
it feels like a decision that can't be undone anymore.
Ahead—
the enemy.
They react first.
Of course they do.
They can't let us get close.
They're not allowed to.
Because if we do—
if even part of the fleet enters range—
the Sigil of Severance gives us an edge.
And they don't play for edges.
They play to remove options entirely.
I feel their formation shift before the sensors even catch it.
Too fast.
Too precise.
As if they're not reacting to us—
but to a future where we've already made our next move.
"We don't have enough force for a frontal attack," Amnelis says.
Calmly.
Like he's reporting the temperature.
Like he's not deciding whether we live another minute.
I don't answer right away.
Because he's right.
And we both know it.
And the worst part—
it doesn't stop me.
"I wonder… where the Dark Mind's fleet is," slips out before I can filter it.
The thought outruns me.
I search.
Through the network.
Across the battlefield.
Through every signature, every shadow—
Nothing.
No response.
No trace.
He was here.
Moving beside us.
Breathing down our neck.
And now—
he's gone.
That makes it colder, not better.
"He's not exactly reporting in," I add quietly.
Even to me, it sounds—
stupid.
Naive.
As if there were ever rules.
"Then he has his own plan," Amnelis replies.
"And we're not in the loop."
"Of course we're not," I mutter, a crooked edge to it. "Perfect. An ally running his own game right before the final round."
Underneath that—
irritation. And fear.
Because if he pulled out—
either he's sure we'll manage…
or that we don't need to.
And I'm not sure which one's worse.
"Recon reports," a voice cuts in.
I already know what's coming.
I can feel it.
"They've built a wall of autonomous combat systems."
I lift my gaze.
And I see it.
A wall.
Not a metaphor.
Real.
Dense.
A mass of drones, platforms, nodes.
Layered.
Alive.
Pulsing.
Like it's breathing.
Like it's watching.
Not just a barrier.
Armor.
"Take it down," I say.
My voice is dry.
Stripped of anything extra.
"Open fire," Amnelis echoes.
And in that moment—
the fleet comes alive.
Annihilation charges launch.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
They move forward.
Silent.
Lethal.
I track them with my eyes.
If this works—
No.
Not "if."
When.
(A lie. But I need it.)
"Come on…" I whisper. "Just work for once."
Kel snorts beside me.
"Commander, are you praying right now or negotiating with physics?"
"I keep my options open," I shoot back.
He smirks.
Nervous.
Very.
And for a second—
it gets lighter.
Because if we can still joke—
we're not dead yet.
Yet.
The charges streak forward.
Straight into the wall.
A few more seconds—
and—
The wall…
moves.
It doesn't break.
Doesn't retreat.
It—
parts.
Layers of autonomous systems slide aside.
Like a curtain.
Like a mouth.
Opening—
onto nothing.
And inside that nothing—
something is there.
I feel it before I see it.
"What—" someone breathes.
"A shutter," Amnelis says quietly.
I already understand.
Too late.
"No…" I whisper. "It's a trap."
And the next second—
they fire.
Streams of plasma erupt from the opened gaps.
Not beams.
Not shots.
Streams.
Like rivers.
Blinding.
They surge—
straight at us.
Too fast.
Too—
"Impact!"
The hit slams into us.
The flagship shudders.
Deep.
Not like a glancing blow—
like it's been pierced through.
Systems explode with alerts.
Red.
Overload.
Failure.
Errors.
Too many.
All at once.
I grab the console.
The world jerks.
Narrows.
"Report!" I bark.
But my voice drowns—
in noise.
In shouting.
In chaos.
Liara's beside me.
I turn—
and see it.
Fear.
Real.
Unfiltered.
No control.
She looks at me—
like she's waiting for an answer.
Like I'm still the one who knows what to do.
Damn it…
Kel—
is at his post.
Tense.
Ready.
But he doesn't move.
He's waiting for an order.
That almost breaks me.
Because—
I don't have one.
I dive into the network.
Reports.
Damage.
Losses.
One after another.
Ships dropping out.
Shields gone.
Hulls torn open.
People—
dying.
And we—
haven't even gotten close.
"Damn…" I breathe.
We were already outmatched.
And now—
this attack…
it's pointless.
Just—
suicide with extra steps.
And still—
I see them.
The charges.
Our annihilation charges.
They're still moving.
The plasma didn't stop them.
Their shells held.
They're pushing through.
Straight toward the wall.
Stubborn.
Relentless.
"They'll make it…" I say quietly.
Not sure to whom.
Myself.
Liara.
The void.
"They'll make it."
Amnelis doesn't speak.
But I feel it—
he's watching too.
Calculating.
If they hit—
the wall collapses.
And then—
we get a chance.
Small.
Fragile.
But a chance.
Seconds stretch.
Too long.
Each one a lifetime.
I feel everything inside me tightening.
Like time itself is deciding—
whether we get to keep existing.
"Come on…" I whisper.
"Come on…"
Kel says quietly,
"If this doesn't work—"
"I know," I cut him off.
Too sharp.
A pause.
"Then we improvise."
He huffs.
"God, I hate that plan."
"Me too."
But there isn't another one.
And that's the truth.
The worst kind—
honest.
The charges close in.
Just a little more—
and—
I realize something.
Too quiet.
They're too calm.
The Xeno-Synapse—
aren't moving.
Not intercepting.
Not reacting.
As if—
they don't need to.
As if—
they've already accounted for this.
And in that moment—
cold runs down my spine.
Slow.
Precise.
What if…
…this is part of their plan too?
Too late.
Far too late to pull back.
Too late to doubt.
"All hands, brace," I say quietly.
My voice barely above a whisper.
But everyone hears it.
Because right now—
silence is louder than any command.
And in that moment—
I understand:
we're not just playing by their rules.
We are—
part of their equation.
And only now—
we're reaching the line
where they plan to cross us out.
**
The torpedoes hit.
I see it.
I feel it.
As if each one is an extension of my hand. My choice. My mistake… or my salvation.
For a fraction of a second—
everything clicks.
Almost.
Too perfect to be real.
And of course—
it isn't.
Because in that exact moment—
the wall changes.
It doesn't break.
It doesn't fall back.
It… closes.
Autonomous units fold into a single structure.
No gaps.
No weak points.
Energy fields flare between them, locking everything into one seamless lattice.
Not a barrier.
A cocoon.
Alive.
Sealed.
Ready.
"They…" Kal exhales. "Are they actually—"
"Yes," I say quietly.
And for a moment, I almost wish I'm wrong.
"They're not defending. They're… preparing to take the hit."
A pause.
Short. Final.
"And use it."
The realization hits instantly.
Cold. Clean.
Too late.
Way too late.
The first flash—
It isn't just bright.
It's blinding.
Like a star being born right in front of your eyes.
The second—
stronger. Deeper.
As if space itself starts collapsing inward.
And then—
a cascade.
Impacts roll one after another.
Annihilation.
Pure. Absolute. Total.
Space floods with light.
It's everywhere.
Outside.
Inside.
Inside me.
Even here.
Even on the bridge.
I feel the heat.
Through the screens.
Through the systems.
Through my mind.
That shouldn't be possible.
But it is.
"That's… impossible," I whisper, not believing my own words.
Because the sensation doesn't fade.
It's like reality itself is overheating.
"Report on strike effectiveness," I snap.
My voice is dry. Too fast.
Because right now I need—
anything.
Anything good.
A pause.
One second—
it stretches longer than the entire battle.
"The wall is destroyed," Amnelis says.
I exhale sharply.
Like something lets go—
and only now do I realize I wasn't breathing.
"There it is…"
A chance.
Small. Fragile.
But real.
I grab onto it like a drowning man.
"Prepare the Sigil of Rupture. Attack."
No hesitation now.
No "if."
"We need to close distance," Amnelis adds.
I nod. He already knows.
"Forward."
A beat.
"Faster."
Another.
"We're out of time."
And we are.
Because—
they're already locking on.
I feel it.
Like a gaze.
Cold. Precise.
Like a targeting system that never misses.
"Enemy weapons—"
I don't finish.
They fire.
Again.
No warning.
No theatrics.
Just the next step in a calculation.
Massive Xeno-Synapse ships unleash.
Plasma streams tear forward.
I see space give way before them—
as if resistance is just… disabled.
And then—
impact.
Our ships—
tear apart.
Not damaged.
Not fractured.
Torn.
Like paper.
"Shields—"
"No power!" someone shouts.
And the next second—
the flagship goes dark.
Everything—
cuts out.
Darkness.
Total. Absolute.
No transition.
Like someone flips the universe off.
Sound remains—
but it's muffled. Distant.
Like I'm hearing it through water.
And in that darkness—
something begins.
Quiet.
Uneven.
Pulsing.
Panic.
I feel it.
Not with my eyes—
through the network.
The crew.
They're holding.
Trying.
But fear—
is breaking through.
Like a crack in glass.
Small.
Irreversible.
"Hold…" I whisper.
Not sure if anyone hears.
Or if it's just for me.
"Where are you, Axiom?!" Liara's voice cuts through.
Sharp. Alive. Real.
It slices the dark.
I latch onto it—
like an anchor.
"Here," I answer.
And I find her.
In the dark.
Almost by instinct.
I step closer.
Pull her in.
For a second.
Short.
Necessary.
She's alive.
Warm.
Real.
And suddenly—
that matters more than anything.
"I'm here," I repeat.
More to myself than to her.
She doesn't answer.
But I feel it—
she's holding on.
For me.
For us.
For that cursed chance.
Kal.
A silhouette in the network.
Already in position.
Weapon in hand.
Body coiled like a spring.
"Boarding?" he asks.
"Soon," I say.
Because—
what else could this be?
If they didn't finish us—
they want us.
Alive.
Or whatever's left of us.
He nods without words.
Takes position.
Breath steady.
Damn it, Kal… at least one of us looks like he knows what he's doing.
"Backup power!"
"Seal section three!"
"Purge plasma from the mainline!"
Amnelis' voice cuts through the dark.
Sharp. Focused. Controlled.
No panic.
None.
Like this is a drill.
Like the ship isn't dying beneath our feet.
I cling to that.
To his control.
Because I'm—
close to breaking.
"Report," I say.
Quiet.
But he hears.
"Critical damage.
Primary systems offline.
Power unstable."
A brief pause.
"But we're still alive."
I smirk.
The darkness hides it.
"Could be worse."
Dry humor.
Almost inappropriate.
Which is exactly why—
it's necessary.
The ship drifts.
I feel it.
Slow. Helpless.
We're not moving forward anymore.
We're—
falling.
In space.
Toward the enemy.
I lift my gaze.
There—
they are.
Massive. Whole. Untouched.
Like nothing happened.
Like we're—
just statistics.
And we—
small.
Broken.
Open.
"Of course…" I murmur. "All according to plan."
Liara exhales quietly.
"Yours?"
"No," I say. "That's why it's going so badly."
Kal snorts under his breath.
"Reassuring."
I clench my fists.
Think.
Fast.
Desperate.
Sigil of Rupture…
We almost made it into range.
Almost.
But now—
no power.
No shields.
No—
almost nothing.
Just us.
And the enemy.
Closing in.
Slowly.
Confidently.
Like they know—
we're not getting away.
"Commander…" Kal says quietly.
I don't answer right away.
Because—
I don't have an order.
At all.
A pause.
Heavy. Dangerous.
The kind that breaks people.
And somewhere deep—
that thread.
"No."
It's still there.
Weak.
But alive.
I take a breath.
Slow. Deliberate.
"Get ready," I say.
My voice is quiet.
But it holds.
"We're not done yet."
Liara lifts her head.
Looks at me.
"Are you sure?"
I stare ahead.
At the approaching fleet.
"No."
A beat.
"But that's never stopped me before."
And then—
a удар against the hull.
Heavy.
Dull.
Not plasma.
Not a shot.
Something—
else.
Kal snaps his weapon up.
Amnelis goes silent.
Liara grips my hand.
I look up—
and understand.
They're not here to finish us.
They—
came for us.
And I don't know
which is worse.