"And if the Dreadlight was only the beginning in one version of history… I have to wonder if this new one is part of what was supposed to come next."
Neither of them said anything after that.
The feed kept playing.
The signals kept moving.
And in the silence that followed, only one thing felt certain—Whatever was happening, it was no longer the same story they thought they knew.
Back aboard the Dreadlight, the silence wasn't peaceful. It wasn't loud either. It was something in between—a kind of pressure, not from air or sound, but from presence.
The ship had been quiet too long to feel normal anymore. Even the walls seemed to listen, as if they remembered better days and didn't know what to make of the footsteps echoing through them now.
Xu Qianghua walked slowly, his eyes sharp, but his hands calm at his sides. Elder Han walked beside him, one palm lightly skimming the corridor's edge.
The others—Xin and Wuying—followed from behind, keeping quiet.
