The Wayfarer hummed through the corpse-filled silence of the Gloom, its engines a soft whisper against the vast, dead quiet. Echo stood at the viewport, his new Life-Thread Perception overlaying the derelict ships with a ghostly tapestry of fading energy. Some threads were dark, dead vines. Others pulsed with the sickly violet of lingering corruption. And a few—very few—glowed with the warm gold of residual life, like embers in ash.
"Found something," Ryn called from the pilot's chair, her fingers dancing over the console. "Three sectors spinward. A gravity signature that doesn't match any known wreck. It's… stable. And it's masking its energy output."
"A hidden base?" Leyla asked, sharpening a claw against the bulkhead.
"Or a tomb," Mira murmured, her spatial senses extending. "The space around it is… folded. Gently. Like it's being held in a cupped hand."
Echo made the decision. "Take us in. Slow and quiet."
The source of the anomaly was not a ship, but a planetoid—a small, rocky body that shouldn't have existed in the nebula. It was perfectly spherical, its surface a dark, metallic blue. As they approached, runes of soft silver light ignited across its surface, forming a pattern that made Echo's bloodline hum in recognition.
"It's a Sanctuary Seed," Mira gasped, reading the ancient script. "A Druidic Paragon world-ship in its dormant, planetary form. They were self-sustaining arks. This one must have fled here during the purges and gone to sleep."
"It's waking up for us," Ryn said, as a hangar aperture, seamless a moment before, irised open on the surface. A guiding beacon of warm light pulsed within.
The Wayfarer descended into a cathedral-like hangar of living wood and glowing crystal. The air was fresh, smelling of rain and ozone. As they disembarked, the environment subtly adjusted—gravity settled to a comfortable standard, light brightened, and the far wall shimmered, revealing a panoramic view of the Gloom outside.
A voice, genderless and gentle as wind through leaves, spoke from the air itself. "Welcome, Sovereign. The Last Orchard recognized your resonance. This Sanctuary is yours to tend, for as long as you uphold the Balance. It will hide you from scans, sustain you, and grow with you. It is a refuge, not a fortress. Do not make it a weapon."
The voice faded. Around them, the facility came to life. Rooms shaped themselves from the walls—barracks, a med-bay, a training area with adjustable gravity and holographic opponents, a serene garden chamber with a pool of clear water. At the center of it all was a grove where the Starlight Pomegranate tree could be planted.
They had a home. A secret heart in the graveyard.