Few days ago
The room had been dim that night.
Lucian sat on the edge of his bunk, half-dressed, skin still damp from the shower. The faint hum of the Citadel's life-support systems filled the silence like a heartbeat. He hadn't slept in hours. His mind was quiet, but it wasn't resting—it was calculating.
A holographic interface hovered before him, pale-blue light washing over the lines of his face. The system shop flickered through endless categories—ships, weapons, armor, modules, enhancements. None of it felt right. He wasn't looking for something that could kill. He was looking for something that could go.
"Cael," he said softly.
[Online.]
"Show me available vessels compatible with Omega protocols. Personal class."
[Processing…]
[List generated.]
Dozens of schematics appeared in the air. Compact cruisers, interceptor-grade fighters, even a few experimental stealth frigates. Lucian scrolled past them one by one. Too small. Too slow. Too… ordinary.
