Descent for Sector Nine
[System Broadcast // Universal Relay][Attention: All Active Compartments]
[Notice — Scheduled Descent Initiation]Destination: Sector NineETA: 19 HoursDuration: Variable.
[Note: Adjustments in gravity, neural link calibration, and energy compression will occur throughout the descent period.]
[Please remain within containment thresholds until further command.]
[For the duration of the descent — communication uplinks are restricted.]
The message played in perfect monotone, yet every passenger — soldier, engineer, candidate — felt something different underneath.The voice wasn't mechanical this time. It breathed.
When the final chime echoed, the lights across the Doom Train dimmed — not with night, but with anticipation.
Inside lower decks, workers exchanged looks they shouldn't have.
"Sector Nine?"
"Can't be. The last time we dropped sectors was… four hundred, maybe four-fifty years back."
An older attendant shook his head slowly. "Last Descent, they said it was for recalibration. But trains don't need calibration every five centuries."
Another voice whispered, almost reverent. "They say when the train stops, it's not for repair. It's because something inside it — remembers."
A silence followed. The hum in the walls deepened, like agreement.
Harry hadn't moved from his console since the Verdant Pulse ended. His screens were a constellation of anomalies — all pulsing in strange rhythm. Raghu's feed was still the most unreadable, data looping back on itself like recursion made flesh.
Then the broadcast hit.
He froze mid-scroll, eyes widening. "Sector Nine… no, that can't—"He turned to his assistant core. "Confirm last descent."
[Historical Data: Last Descent — 450 years prior.]
[Reason: Internal Structural Realignment.]
"Internal alignment…" Harry repeated, leaning closer to the feed. "Or… reawakening?"
The console flickered again — just for a heartbeat — showing the forbidden mark:
[Resonant Core Alignment — Phase III Imminent.]
He swore softly. "Oh no. Its really going to happen." I am hoping CNC has a grip of this.
Jivan — MUSA Second Seat
High above the physical, in MUSA's spectral core, Jivan lounged in his chair of shifting gold data. Below him, the holographic projection of the Doom Train stretched like a serpent through darkness — pulsing now with Sector Nine's descent protocols.
He smiled faintly.
"So it begins."
The Ninth Seat's voice came through — cold, deliberate.
"The broadcast has triggered across all rings. The lower sectors are already panicking."
"Let them," Jivan replied. "They still think the train descends for maintenance. Faith in the machine is easier than truth."
"Truth being?"
"That the train doesn't descend. It remembers where it left something.And it apparent that It remembered something now"
Mrityu didn't answer, but the brief pulse on the shared channel was enough acknowledgment.
The broadcast woke Ayush like thunder.
His mind was sharp — always was — but now, it felt tuned. Calibrated. Every pulse of the train synced with his breath, almost unnaturally. He didn't understand why, but it felt like guidance. Like someone whispering behind his thoughts.
"Sector Nine," he murmured.
"So soon? But why now"
A low hum echoed through his neural implant — a voice without sound. Not words. Just intention.
Do not resist the descent. Channel it.
He straightened, eyes flickering with violet focus. "I understand."
The announcement rolled gudi and vedant over mid-rest.
Gudi's eyes snapped open, bubbles forming unconsciously above her as the train's pressure shifted. "Sector Nine? Wait, that's not— that's not in the schedule."
Vedant stood near the viewing slit, flames dancing faintly across his knuckles, reflecting off glass. He didn't answer, but his fire pulsed once — matching the rhythm of the train's descent.
Both felt it, deep in the gut — the sensation of being watched not by the train, but by something older that used the train as a mouthpiece.
Raghu pod lights flickered as the gravity fields realigned. Every other candidate's pulse data surged in noise — but Raghu's line stayed clean, steady, resonant.
He wasn't resisting the descent. It was as if He was the descent.
When he opened his eyes, the world tilted — metal dissolving briefly into forests, circuits blooming like vines, every rhythm folding into his own. He could feel the sectors moving below him — like vertebrae shifting in a giant's spine.
"You're not descending," he whispered. "You're awakening."
The pulse beneath his palm glowed — green mixed with faint gold.
System Log
[Descent Protocol Engaged.]
[Sector Nine – Atmospheric Core Adjustment]
[Warning: Unidentified Entity Sync Detected.]
[Override Authorization: Denied.]
[Continue Descent.]
The train's hum deepened until it became something else entirely — a heartbeat stretched across infinity.
And somewhere inside that sound, hidden but growing clearer, a voice murmured — neither digital nor human:
"Welcome home, child."