Leon woke to light, not sunlight, but something purer. It filtered through crystalline walls that hummed faintly, as if the building itself were alive. His eyes adjusted slowly, taking in the alien symmetry of the room. Every line and corner curved unnaturally, like nature had designed it and then been taught geometry afterward.
He sat up too quickly. Pain bloomed behind his eyes. A monitor beside the bed flared in response, flashing glyphs he couldn't read.
"Careful," a voice said. Familiar now.
Echo stood at the doorway, arms folded across her silver-trimmed armor. Her gaze held that same calculated neutrality, like she was analyzing every breath he took.
"You've been unconscious for seventeen hours," she said. "We ran diagnostics. You're not native to Orion."
Leon blinked. "No kidding."
"You don't seem surprised."
He shook his head. "I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here. But I've seen enough weird today to skip the part where I scream and panic."
Echo raised an eyebrow. "Pragmatic. That's rare."
She stepped aside, motioning for him to follow.
Leon stood, unsteady at first. His legs still remembered the weight of Earth's gravity. Here, everything felt lighter but his body ached in ways that didn't feel natural. Like he was being translated by the environment, not accepted.
They walked through translucent corridors that pulsed with veins of red and blue energy. Fort Veridion was massive part fortress, part machine, part cathedral. Soldiers in varying armor passed them, each marked by division emblems. Many glanced at him. Some stared.
"They don't get visitors like me?" he asked.
"They don't get visitors at all," Echo said. "Especially ones who aren't supposed to exist."
They reached a wide atrium with a glass ceiling that opened to the twin moons above. Holograms floated in the center planetary data, energy readings, and a rotating model of the cosmos.
A man waited by the display. Towering. Still. Black and crimson armor with streaks of obsidian. The weight of his presence struck Leon like gravity.
"Commander Thorne," Echo said, saluting.
Leon stood straighter instinctively.
The man turned, and for a heartbeat, Leon saw something in his eyes recognition? Calculation?
"This is the anomaly," Thorne said. His voice carried like thunder under control.
"I have a name," Leon muttered. "Leon."
Thorne studied him. "That remains to be seen."
Before Leon could protest, Thorne continued. "Your arrival destabilized a breach zone. You weren't just pulled here. You *punched through*. No gate, no rift anchor. That shouldn't be possible."
"I didn't exactly ask for a ticket," Leon replied.
"No," Thorne said. "But something *wanted* you here."
He turned to Echo. "Put him under supervised watch. Limited movement within the Division Wing. Keep him away from Aether cores."
Leon frowned. "I'm not dangerous."
"You are an unknown," Thorne said. "That's more dangerous than any weapon."
The commander walked away, leaving silence in his wake.
Leon turned to Echo, exhaling. "Is he always like that?"
"Only when he's being polite."
They moved again. As they did, Leon noticed a soft humming sound growing louder. He looked down and saw his own shadow flickering strangely like light was bending around him wrong.
Echo noticed too.
She stopped. "Your signature is adapting faster than it should."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're changing. Orion's energy is reshaping you, and it's not wasting time."
Leon's skin prickled.
As they stepped into a new chamber a large circular hall lined with glowing panels an alert flared across the ceiling.
BREACH DETECTED – SOUTHEAST PERIMETER – PRIORITY LEVEL: SCARLET
Echo stiffened. "Perfect timing."
She turned to him. "Stay here. Don't touch anything. Someone will be assigned to you."
Leon watched her go, the weight of everything finally beginning to settle.
He was in another world.
He didn't know why.
And something deep in his bones told him this was only the beginning.
Leon wandered the edge of the circular chamber, his footsteps echoing off the polished alloy floor. The walls flickered now and then recording him? Watching? Everything here seemed alive in some passive, disinterested way.
A door slid open behind him with a soft hiss.
"Room's not for tourists," said a voice, dry and amused.
Leon turned to find a woman lounging against the doorframe. Tall, lean, with a tangle of red hair tied back and dark armor marked with the insignia of Division 10. Her left eye glowed faintly beneath a cracked lens.
"I'm Kestra. They sent me to babysit."
Leon crossed his arms. "Great. Do I get a leash too?"
She chuckled. "Only if you misbehave."
She stepped into the room, her gaze scanning him from head to toe.
"You don't look like much," she said.
"I get that a lot."
Kestra shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything. Half the corps looks like they couldn't lift a paperweight. Then they level a mountain."
Leon walked toward her. "So what's your story? You part of Echo's squad?"
"Unit Valiant. Been in it four years. I specialize in breach tracking and subspace stability. Which means, unfortunately, I get to babysit guys who punch holes in reality."
Leon winced. "Still not sure how that happened."
"Neither are we," she said, her tone suddenly cooler. "But the fact that it did makes you very interesting."
She tapped a crystal panel on the wall. A display lit up an energy profile. Leon's, apparently.
"This is you," Kestra said. "Except it shouldn't be. You're not aligned with any native resonance frequencies. You're not drawing Aether consciously, but it's still adapting to you."
Leon watched the display pulse in slow waves.
"It's like the world's making room for you," Kestra said. "That shouldn't happen."
Before he could ask what that meant, a low rumble shook the room.
Kestra's expression darkened. "That's not the perimeter alarm. That's internal."
The lights flickered once then twice.
A voice echoed from the ceiling. "ALERT. UNKNOWN ANOMALY DETECTED IN SECTOR SIX."
Kestra snapped to motion. "Stay here. Don't move. Don't touch anything. If it gets worse, hide."
Leon watched her vanish down the corridor.
He stood in the empty room, the hum of the walls deepening, his own breath growing shorter.
And for a split second, the room shifted. He could feel it not like sight or sound, but instinct. The air bent. His heart surged. And for just a moment…
He could hear the stars whispering.
And they knew his name.