The door to Lucian’s quarters hissed open after seventy-two hours of absolute silence. He stepped out, and the difference was palpable. The frantic, frayed energy that had surrounded him was gone, replaced by a deep, chilling calm. His movements were economical, precise. He had slept, he had eaten, and he had thought. The grief and rage were still there, but now they were tools, not masters.
He found them in the common area. Reia was meticulously cleaning her blades, but her hands, while steady, still showed the faintest tremor. Silas was moving stiffly, testing his bound ribs with a wince. Vyn was sipping a nutrient brew, her shadows present but thin, like morning mist. Evelyn was at the comms station, her face drawn with fatigue as she ran endless, fruitless searches for any trace of the portal’s signature. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✦𝘧𝙞𝙧𝙚✦𝕟𝕖𝕥
They were ready in spirit. Their bodies, however, told a different story.
Lucian watched them for a long moment, his dark eyes missing nothing. The calculation was cold and simple. They were loyal. They were skilled. But against whatever had taken Lucy, their current strength was a flickering candle against a hurricane. Reia, Silas, Vyn—all high XXX-rank. capable of handling most threats. This was not most threats. He had ascended to Omega during his forced rest, the pressure and grief catalyzing a latent potential. They had not.
He would not lead them into the dark to die.
A silent command formed in his mind. Cael.
A presence, vast and digital, stirred in the substrate of his consciousness. [User acknowledged.]
Buy four Omega Rank Advancement Cores.
There was the briefest pause, as if even the system was processing the monumental request. [Transaction requires significant resource allocation. Confirm.]
[Cores available: 4. Deploy method?]
Lucian’s gaze swept over his team again. Reia sheathing her blades. Silas trying to laugh at something Evelyn said, the sound cutting off with a grunt of pain. Vyn closing her eyes, seeking a depth to her shadows that wasn’t there. They would never accept it. They’d see it as charity, or worse, a risk. They’d argue. He didn’t have time for arguments.
Proximity pulse. Set delivery for midnight, inject while asleep. Stealth protocol.
[Confirmed. Deployment initiated. Biological integration will be complete by 0600.]
The silent transaction was done. The cost was astronomical, draining reserves that had taken years to build. He didn’t care.
"We leave in six hours," Lucian said, his voice cutting through the low hum of the Citadel.
They all looked up, their focus snapping to him. The determination in their eyes was fierce, but it couldn’t mask the fatigue etched into their faces.
"The trail’s cold, Lucian," Evelyn said, turning from her console. "Whatever that thing was, it covered its tracks perfectly. I’ve got nothing."
"Kaelis has the scent," Lucian replied. "That’s all we need." He looked at each of them in turn. "Get what rest you can. It’s the last you’ll get for a while."
He didn’t wait for a response, turning and walking towards the hangar to prep the ship himself. The message was clear: The time for debate was over.
The artificial night cycle of the Citadel deepened. The halls were silent. In their rooms, the team slept the deep, troubled sleep of the exhausted.
In Reia’s room, a faint, golden light—imperceptible to the human eye—pulsed from the ventilation system. It settled over her like dust, sinking into her skin. In her sleep, she flinched, her dreams shifting to visions of blazing suns and cutting winds.
In Silas’s quarters, the same light enveloped him. He muttered, his body tensing as his subconscious fought a phantom battle, his muscles burning with a strange, new energy.
In Vyn’s dark room, the light was swallowed by her shadows for a moment before they flared, then settled into a deeper, more profound blackness. She dreamed of bottomless pits and silent, starless voids.
In the pilot’s quarters, Evelyn stirred, a strange warmth flooding her limbs, her mind, always calculating flight paths and trajectories, suddenly dreaming of navigating the furious currents of a nebula.
They felt nothing but strange dreams.
Lucian was waiting by the Star-Jumper when they arrived in the hangar six hours later. The ship, a sleek, predatory vessel, hummed with readiness.
Reia was the first to approach, strapping her blades to her back. She stopped, frowning slightly. "I feel... good. Really good." She flexed her hands. The raw redness was gone. The tremor had vanished.
"A full night’s rest will do that," Silas boomed, clapping her on the shoulder. He then froze, his hand still on her arm. "Hey... my ribs." He twisted his torso experimentally. "They don’t hurt." The constant, grinding pain that had been his companion since the fight with Marc was just... gone.
Vyn emerged from the shadows near the ship’s ramp, her form solidifying. She looked down at her own hands, her usually pale face flushed with vitality. Her shadows didn’t flicker; they coiled around her arms like living smoke, dense and potent. "Something’s different," she said, her voice lacking its usual rasp. It was clear, strong.
Evelyn walked up, pulling her flight gloves on. "I’ll admit, I feel sharper than I have in years. Must be the pre-mission adrenaline."
Lucian watched them, his expression unreadable. "The body heals when it’s allowed to." He turned and ascended the ramp. "Let’s go."
As they filed into the ship, a shared, unspoken confusion hung between them. It was more than just being well-rested. It was like the ceiling of their very potential had been ripped off. The world seemed sharper, colors more vivid, the hum of the ship’s engine a complex song they could almost understand.
Reia looked at Lucian’s back as he took the pilot’s seat. She knew him. She saw the calculated calm, the way he had avoided their eyes. This wasn’t just rest. This was him. It had to be.
But as the Star-Jumper’s engines whined to life and the hangar bay doors opened to the star-dusted void, she didn’t question it. Silas grinned, cracking his knuckles, feeling power thrum through him that he hadn’t felt since his youth. Vyn allowed herself a small, sharp smile, her shadows whispering of newfound depths. Evelyn’s hands flew over the controls with an instinctual grace that felt almost supernatural.
They were whole. They were strong. They were more than they had been yesterday.
Lucian input the first set of coordinates Kaelis had provided, his jaw set. He didn’t need their thanks. He needed them alive. He needed them to be able to stand beside him when he found what had taken his sister.
The ship shot forward into the hyperlane, a silver dart aimed at the heart of the unknown. This time, they weren’t just a rescue team. They were something new. Something an ancient and terrified galaxy had just tried to warn itself about.