The Wraith sliced through a corridor of shattered moons and dying stars, navigating toward the Nexus a place that existed in no known star chart. Space here shimmered unnaturally, the laws of physics bending like reeds in a storm. Time itself seemed to stretch, and the stars around them looked… wrong. Too sharp. Too still.
Nova stared out the viewport, arms folded tightly. "It's like reality had a stroke and no one bothered to fix it."
Damien muttered as he calibrated the ship's shields. "That's because the Nexus isn't just a place it's a memory. Architect space was built from recursion. Every atom here remembers every version of itself."
"Cute," Nova replied. "If I start remembering someone else's trauma, I'm jumping out the airlock."
Valen was silent. He sat at the weapons console, watching the long-range sensors. No movement yet. But they all knew that wouldn't last.
