The masked figure's voice lingered in the air, almost vibrating through their bones. None of them moved, as if any motion might shatter the fragile thread holding this moment together.
Kaelen finally broke the silence. "You know our names. You show up in the middle of nowhere. And you expect us to follow you onto a ship we've never seen before?"
The figure tilted their head slightly. "I expect nothing. But if you wish to save your galaxy, you will come with me. The Nexus will not wait."
Rhyss took a step forward, weapon still at the ready. "And who are you to speak for the Nexus?"
The masked envoy turned slowly toward them. The mask's surface rippled like liquid light, briefly reflecting a thousand faces—male, female, alien, human—before settling back into featureless silver.
"I am called Veylan, last of the Voice-Bearers. And the Nexus does not speak to those who are unworthy."
Ceyra gasped at the name, stumbling back. "Voice-Bearers… They were wiped out millennia ago."
"Clearly," Veylan replied evenly, "not all of us."
A Reluctant Ascent
They boarded the ship warily. Its interior was unlike any craft Kaelen had seen—walls of black glass streaked with veins of soft gold, as if the vessel itself were alive. Symbols pulsed faintly underfoot with each step, reacting to their presence.
"This thing feels like it's watching us," Kaelen muttered.
"It is," Veylan said. "The Erythian Core binds this vessel to my will. It will not harm you… unless I tell it to."
Lyra's gaze sharpened. "So you're threatening us?"
"Stating fact," Veylan replied, then gestured toward a chamber ahead. "Come. There is much to explain, and little time to waste."
The Gathering Storm
The chamber they entered opened into a panoramic view of space. Through the transparent hull, they could see the violet world shrinking behind them, and beyond it—the creeping void swallowing stars.
Veylan stood at the center, activating a sphere of light that projected a three-dimensional map of the galaxy. Entire systems were marked in red—extinguished. Others flickered like dying embers.
"The Architect has reawakened in full," Veylan began. "What you faced before was a shell, a fragment. Now it consumes entire worlds, stripping them of life and bending what remains to its will."
The map zoomed in on one of the red systems. A recording played—cities falling silent, skies collapsing, oceans boiling into nothing.
Ceyra buried her face in her hands. "We're already too late…"
"No," Veylan countered sharply. "There is still a chance. The Nexus is the last sanctuary—a consciousness that spans the hidden arteries of the cosmos. If we reach it, it may grant us the means to end the Architect."
Kaelen crossed his arms. "And what's the catch?"
Veylan's mask pulsed once, like a heartbeat. "The Nexus does not give. It tests. It will demand something from each of you… something you may not be willing to surrender."
Lyra's stomach tightened. "What kind of 'something'?"
"The part of you that defines you," Veylan said simply. "Your strength. Your love. Your memories. It will decide."
The Shadows Close In
Before anyone could respond, alarms flared through the ship. The transparent hull darkened as something massive emerged from the void outside—a writhing mass of metallic tendrils and black fire.
Kaelen's face hardened. "Let me guess… Architect?"
Veylan's mask brightened like a star. "No. One of its Heralds. And it has found us."
The ship lurched violently as the Herald's claws tore across its hull. Veylan extended their hand, and the walls themselves seemed to awaken, shifting into defensive configurations.
Rhyss drew their weapon, eyes burning. "Then let's see what this living ship can do."
Lyra glanced at Ceyra, who stared blankly at the void outside, whispering one word over and over:
"It's learning… It's learning… It's learning…"