But he kept his eyes on the bones for a moment longer.
Because these weren't enemy soldiers.
Not anymore.
They were warnings. Frozen in silence.
And silence, he had learned, was never empty.
Not in a place like this.
Not on a ship that refused to let go of the past.
And somewhere deeper inside, the AI whispered its own thought, too quiet to be noticed.
"Memory nodes damaged. Identity logs lost. But remains remain."
Then it went quiet again.
And the Dreadlight kept drifting.
......
Back on Nexera, the sky was clear above the command tower. From a distance, the observatory looked like a lotus carved from white stone, its petals pointed upward, catching starlight as though gathering secrets.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense but quiet.
Liu Meiying stood with her arms crossed, eyes fixed on the large floating projection in front of her.
The screen showed a dim internal feed from the orbiting warship—the one they now knew as the Dreadlight.
