They had crossed the threshold.
The sector had no official name. Star maps listed it as Rift-Theta-Null, but Valen called it The Fracture a stretch of space where ships went silent, coordinates spun in loops, and time refused to behave.
Elara stood at the helm, watching as the stars outside began to shimmer not flicker, not blur, but shimmer like reflections in a pool disturbed by invisible ripples.
"Navigation is failing," Nova reported from the console. "We're getting echo signatures from our own signal five seconds ahead, eight seconds behind."
"Temporal loop," Aeron said, his voice calm but taut. "We've entered the fracture zone. All personal implants: disable memory syncs."
Everyone moved quickly, except Elara.
She stared at her reflection in the viewing glass.
It wasn't mirroring her exactly.
It blinked out of sync.
Moved slightly differently.
Smiled.
Then it was gone.
She gasped, staggering backward.
