Far from Lyra and Kaelen's ship, beyond the reach of their sensors, a lone figure drifted in the darkness of a derelict station orbiting a dying star.
The room was dim, lit only by the soft pulse of a holographic map projected above a circular table. Countless star systems were marked in crimson, with one blinking faintly—their ship's exact position.
A voice echoed from the shadows behind the figure. Deep. Smooth. Terrifyingly calm.
"Report."
The figure—a masked operative in sleek black armor—knelt on one knee. "They survived contact with the Bound One. Aetherion intervened. And now they are moving toward Vaelora to meet the Archivist."
A long pause. Then: "Good. Let them run."
The masked operative hesitated. "You… want them to find the Archivist?"
A soft chuckle. "The Key cannot be forced. It must be chosen. Every step they take brings them closer to my grasp."
The holographic map shifted, zooming in on Vaelora. The planet glowed like an ember in the void.
The voice lowered, almost a whisper.
"Ensure they reach her alive. But prepare the net. When the Key awakens, there will be no escape."
The operative bowed and vanished into the shadows.
The unseen speaker—still obscured in the darkness—raised a hand. Energy rippled around their fingers, reality itself warping in response.
"Soon," they murmured, eyes like twin voids opening beneath the hood. "The Whisper will become a roar."