The stars didn't vanish.
They unfolded.
At the galaxy's edge, space tore like wet paper—silent, clean, geometric. No explosion. No debris. Just a perfect rift, blacker than void, shaped like an eye that had never blinked.
And from it came a voice.
Not sound. Not thought.
Presence.
It filled every mind at once—human, Xylosian, Devourer alike—not as words, but as absolute fact, delivered with the calm of gravity itself.
"Luna Kane."
She was on the Ark's hull, still wrapped in her blanket, watching the Devourers hum their ancestral songs. The moment the voice spoke, her blood turned to ice.
Not fear. Recognition.
Like a child hearing a parent's voice after years of silence—and knowing they're in trouble.
"Your actions violate Cosmic Balance Protocol 7-Alpha."
Alexander spun toward her. "Luna—"
She held up a hand. Her eyes were wide, but dry. "It's not talking to all of us. Just me."
