The signal changed.
No longer a pulse. Now a voice. Familiar. Gentle. Mine.
It spoke to me through the ship's walls, the hum of the engines, the rhythm of my breath.
"You're close," it said. "You're almost whole."
I traced the ship's interior. Every corridor led back to the bridge. No matter which way I turned, the same door. The same console. The same empty stars.
I wasn't alone.
Ghosts of the crew flickered in and out—Lyra, Keene, Nolan—repeating single motions like corrupted gifs. Not haunting me. Just repeating. Trapped in the moment they chose to remember.
I began to wonder: Did I ever leave the artifact? Or did it just change shape?
The ship was too quiet. Like it was waiting for me to realize something.