The reactor chamber was a labyrinth of humming conduits and blinding blue light, its heart a pulsing core of unstable energy. Every step Lyra and Kaelen took reverberated through the metal floor, masked only by the low, throbbing hum of the ship's lifeblood.
Somewhere in here, something—or someone—was trying to kill them.
"AI," Kaelen whispered, weapon drawn, eyes scanning the shadows. "Where's the signal now?"
"Fifty meters ahead," the AI replied. "Stationary. I… wait. It's splitting. Two signatures now."
Lyra cursed under her breath. "Drones?"
Before the AI could answer, a flicker of motion shot across the catwalk above them. Kaelen fired instinctively. The figure dodged, impossibly fast, landing silently on the far side of the chamber.
It wasn't a drone. It was humanoid—sleek black armor with shifting glyphs across its surface, a faceplate like liquid obsidian. In its hands, a blade of pure, vibrating energy hissed to life.
"Who the hell are you?" Lyra demanded.
The figure tilted its head, considering them, then spoke in a voice like splintered glass:
"You carry the Key. The Gate must open."
And then it attacked.
Kaelen barely blocked the first strike, the force of it sending him crashing into a console. Lyra dove aside as the blade carved through metal like paper, sparks cascading around them.
"AI!" Lyra shouted. "Shut down the reactor field around this chamber!"
"That will destabilize the core," the AI warned.
"Do it anyway!"
The lights flickered, gravity lurched—and suddenly the assassin faltered, its movements jerky in the fluctuating magnetic field. Lyra seized the moment, unloading her pulse pistol.
The assassin staggered, but instead of falling, it pressed a hand to its chest. The glyphs on its armor flared—and it vanished, dissolving into a shimmer of light.
Kaelen groaned, pushing himself upright. "Did we kill it?"
The AI answered coldly. "No. It left a gift."
On the reactor core itself, a new symbol was burning into existence—an intricate pattern of glowing runes, expanding outward like a spreading infection.
Lyra stared, dread pooling in her stomach. "What is it?"
The AI's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"A countdown."