The stronghold's core thundered with life. Energy conduits blazed, and a golden lattice unfurled across the station's surface, forming a colossal shield that rippled like sunlight in the void.
The Echo-Lord reeled back, its obsidian body hissing against the radiance.
"The key awakens," it growled. "Then I will take her."
It lunged.
Inside, Kaelen pulled Lyra away from the console just as the ceiling exploded inward. The Echo-Lord's clawed hand pierced the chamber, reaching for her.
"Not today," Kaelen snarled. He drew his phaseblade and leapt onto the massive arm, driving the blade deep between its plates. The creature roared, shaking violently to throw him off.
"Ceyra, can you fire that defense grid?" Rhyss shouted.
"Working on it!" she snapped, frantically weaving through alien commands.
The grid pulsed—and then unleashed. A beam of pure stellar energy erupted from the stronghold, tearing through the Echo-Lord's chest. It staggered, black fire spilling from its wound, and collapsed backward into the void.
The chamber fell silent except for their heavy breaths.
Kaelen climbed back through the wreckage, blood streaking his arm. "Is it dead?"
"No," Lyra whispered. She could still feel it—its presence retreating, but alive. "It's going to bring others."
Ceyra's voice was grim. "Then we need to move. This stronghold is linked to something… bigger. A network of gateways."
"Gateways?" Rhyss asked.
"To anywhere in the galaxy. Maybe beyond."
Lyra stared at the glowing map hovering above them—a web of lights stretching through stars. She felt a chill. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she heard the Architect's whisper again:
Run, little spark… into my labyrinth.