The hum of the ship was quieter now, but it wasn't peace. It was the silence that came after chaos—the kind that pressed on your chest like unseen hands.
Toshio sat in the cockpit, the dim glow of navigation lights painting his face in shades of blue and gray. His eyes were fixed on the vast emptiness of space, though his mind was light-years away.
The words wouldn't leave him.
"The Keeper still lives."
He clenched his fists, the leather gloves creaking. He wanted to deny it, to pretend Iris was just a girl with mysterious powers. But after what happened in the engine bay, denial was a luxury he no longer had.
The ship's AI flickered to life on the control panel—a sphere of light with a soft, feminine voice.
"Captain Toshio, power core levels are stabilizing. However, the energy surge emitted by Subject Iris has been detected by nearby outposts."
Toshio looked up sharply. "Detected?"
"Yes. Transmission logs indicate multiple encrypted signals bouncing across the relay network. Someone is tracking us."
Of course they were.
He stood, pacing across the small bridge. "How long before they reach us?"
"Estimated arrival time: six hours."
Toshio exhaled, running a hand through his golden hair. "Plenty of time to panic."
Then he turned toward the medbay door.
"I'll wake her."
Inside the medbay, Iris was sitting up already, staring at her reflection on the glass wall. Her silvery hair fell messily over her face, and her eyes—those strange golden eyes—looked haunted.
"I heard the alarms," she said softly when he entered. "They're coming, aren't they?"
Toshio leaned against the doorway. "You remember more than you should. Guess your system isn't as dormant as it used to be."
Her expression darkened. "You think I wanted this?"
He sighed and sat beside her. "No. But I think whoever made you did."
A long pause filled the room. Only the faint hum of the life-support system broke it.
Then Iris whispered, "There's a name buried deep in my code. I couldn't read all of it, but it said… Project Celestis."
Toshio's head snapped up. "That can't be."
"You know it?"
"I've read about it. A classified military experiment—supposedly dismantled decades ago. A fusion of artificial intelligence and divine energy, meant to create soldiers who could rewrite reality itself."
She shivered. "Then that means…"
He finished for her, voice cold. "You're not just a weapon. You're a key."
Her gaze met his, fear and confusion swirling in those golden irises. "A key to what?"
He didn't answer.
Because deep down, he already knew.
Six Hours Later.
The stars shifted as the ship's sensors pinged red. Toshio's instincts screamed before the warning klaxon even sounded.
"Contacts inbound! Four vessels—unknown signature!"
He gritted his teeth. "They found us."
The view outside the cockpit lit up with streaks of plasma fire. The ship jolted violently as enemy fighters began circling them like wolves.
Toshio slammed the control pad. "Iris, get to the lower deck and brace yourself! I'll handle this!"
But her voice came through the intercom—steady, resolute. "No. I can help you."
Before he could protest, she appeared at the cockpit entrance. Her eyes were glowing faintly now, golden circuits tracing beneath her skin like living veins of light.
Toshio cursed under his breath. "You're still recovering!"
"I won't sit and watch you die, Toshio!"
There was no arguing with her tone.
Outside, a large cruiser loomed—a sleek, black vessel bearing the insignia of a burning halo.
Toshio froze. That symbol…
"The Order of Seraphim," he muttered. "They shouldn't even exist anymore."
But they did. And they were here.
The ship's comm crackled, and a deep, modulated voice filled the air.
"To the vessel Solstice, you are harboring forbidden technology. Hand over the Keeper prototype and you may yet live."
Iris paled. "They mean me."
Toshio's jaw clenched. "Like hell."
He activated the external broadcast. "This is Captain Toshio Shinji of the Solstice. You'll get her over my dead body."
A pause. Then the voice chuckled.
"If that's your wish, Captain… I'll honor it."
The transmission cut, and the battle began.
The Solstice dove through the nebula, plasma fire trailing like ribbons of death. Toshio's fingers danced over the controls, weaving through asteroids and energy storms.
The enemy ships followed in tight formation, their weapons cutting through the void.
"Iris, reroute auxiliary power to the thrusters!" he barked.
She closed her eyes, hands pressing against the console. Golden light surged through the systems. The ship roared forward with impossible speed.
Toshio grinned despite the chaos. "Now that's what I call divine intervention!"
But then—an explosion ripped through the hull. Warnings blared.
"Direct hit to engine three!" the AI shouted.
Toshio swore. "We can't keep this up!"
Iris's voice was calm but trembling. "Then we don't."
He turned to her, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"
Her hand hovered over the main system core. "I can synchronize with the ship. If I connect fully, I can override their targeting systems. But… it might kill me."
He froze. "No. Absolutely not."
"Toshio—"
"No!" He slammed his hand on the console. "You're not throwing your life away!"
Her gaze softened. "You promised to protect me. Let me make it worth something."
Before he could stop her, she pressed her hand onto the glowing core.
The ship screamed. Not mechanically—but alive.
Golden light erupted through every corridor, flooding the decks with heat and sound. The enemy ships' targeting locks vanished. Their systems glitched, sensors blinded.
"What the—?" Toshio gasped as the enemy fleet began spinning out of control, colliding into one another in bursts of white fire.
Within seconds, the nebula was a graveyard of burning wrecks.
Then the glow faded.
Toshio rushed to Iris's side. Her body was trembling, eyes half-open, skin cold.
"Iris!" he called, shaking her. "Stay with me!"
Her lips parted. "…I… heard him…"
"Him?"
Her golden eyes flickered. "The Warden… He's not dead."
Before Toshio could respond, the AI's voice crackled, broken and distorted.
"Warning: dimensional signature detected… unknown entity inbound."
A tear in the void appeared outside—a swirling black rift that swallowed the stars.
And from it… stepped The Warden.
His armor was cracked and scorched from the last encounter, but his aura was stronger, more terrifying. A crimson halo pulsed behind him like a crown of damnation.
Toshio's blood ran cold.
"You survived that?"
The Warden smiled beneath his half-destroyed mask. "You underestimate my oath, Captain. I made a promise long ago—to the goddess who created the Keeper."
His gaze shifted to Iris. "And I intend to keep it."
Toshio raised his blade. "You'll have to go through me first."
The Warden tilted his head. "Gladly."
They clashed.
Steel met plasma, and sparks filled the air. Toshio's movements were fueled by rage and desperation, but the Warden fought like a man who had already died once.
"You're strong," Toshio grunted, blocking a brutal strike. "But you're fighting for the wrong cause!"
The Warden laughed—a hollow, broken sound. "Cause? You think I fight for faith?"
He pushed Toshio back, slamming him into the wall.
"I fight because I have nothing left to lose."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
But before the killing blow could fall, Iris stood—her eyes burning gold once more.
"Enough!" she cried.
A wave of light burst from her, freezing both combatants in its radiance. The Warden staggered, clutching his chest as if the light itself burned him.
"Keeper Protocol—overriding command," she said, her voice layered with static and divinity. "Accessing memory archive: Project Celestis—Phase Zero."
A hologram shimmered before them—an image of the evil goddess who had created this nightmare. Her beauty was divine, her smile cruel.
"My children," the recording said. "You will guard the Keeper until the day she awakens. When she does, bring her to me. For in her heart lies the key to the Throne of Origin."
The image faded. Silence followed.
Toshio stared in horror. "The Throne of Origin…?"
The Warden's expression shifted from anger to something close to pain. "You see now… why she can never be free."
He lowered his weapon slightly. "If the Keeper awakens fully, that goddess will reclaim her—body and soul."
Iris's voice trembled. "Then I'll destroy the throne myself."
Toshio turned to her. "Iris—"
"No." She looked at both men, her face calm, resolute. "I've made my choice. If my existence threatens this universe, then I'll fight fate itself to change it."
The Warden hesitated, then gave a bitter smile. "You remind me of someone I once swore to protect."
He stepped back into the rift. "The next time we meet, Keeper… I'll test your resolve."
And then he was gone.
The rift closed, leaving only silence and the faint hum of dying systems.
Toshio looked at Iris, half-angry, half-awed. "You just made an enemy of a god and her champion."
She smiled faintly. "Then it looks like we're aiming high."
He laughed weakly, shaking his head. "You're impossible."
Her eyes softened. "You'll still protect me?"
He met her gaze. "Until my last breath."
Outside, the stars began to realign, and the nebula drifted apart—like curtains opening for the next act of destiny.
But in the deep shadows of space, something vast and ancient stirred. The goddess who had once created the Keeper had felt her awakening.
And she was smiling.