The Rusty Glider drifted through a scar of broken space. The nebula's usual glow faded here—replaced by endless gray, like the memory of light itself had been erased.
K-23 stood before the central holo-display, fragments of Collector data flickering in and out of shape.
"Transmission origin triangulated. Coordinates… incomplete. Whatever this 'Silent Court' is, they masked their signal within quantum noise."
Li Feng leaned back in his chair. "So, we've got ghosts sending encrypted death squads. Lovely."
"Correction," K-23 said. "Not ghosts. Administrators."
The android expanded the projection. Strings of alien script unfolded—complex, recursive, almost like prayers written in code.
"These symbols aren't from human databases," K-23 continued. "They're Emporium runes—obsolete protocols for controlling trade permissions between dimensions."
Li Feng frowned. "Meaning the Silent Court isn't just after the Forge. They used to own it."
The idea settled in the air like a weight. The Emporium—his mysterious, bound marketplace—had owners once. Maybe still did.
K-23 processed the data further. "The fragments mention something called 'the Custodial Line.' A network of ancient Wardens designed to oversee Emporium access across the Nebula. You are… apparently the last active one."
Li Feng exhaled slowly. "So that makes me both keyholder and target."
"Affirmative."
The cockpit lights dimmed as the Forge pulsed, responding to the decoded data. The Emporium's interface shimmered into view—a spectral marketplace suspended in black void.
But it looked… different.
Where once the shelves glowed with distant offers, now faint shadows lingered between them—indistinct silhouettes moving just beyond focus.
Li Feng stepped closer. "The hell is this?"
"Residual echoes," K-23 said softly. "The Emporium remembers its last Wardens."
A faint voice brushed the edge of Li Feng's mind. "You woke it, child of dust…"
He froze. "Did you hear that?"
K-23's optic blinked once. "Negative. Auditory hallucinations are a common side effect of resonance stress."
But the voice persisted—whispering, layered, almost human. "The Court does not forgive theft. The Forge was never yours to bear."
Li Feng clenched his jaw. "Then they can come take it from me."
The holographic shelves flickered violently, displaying a burst of data before fading: a set of coordinates and a single phrase—[Echo Spire – Outpost 19].
K-23 scanned it immediately. "That system's dead space. Nothing there but radiation."
"Which makes it the perfect place to hide," Li Feng said. "Plot a course."
K-23 hesitated. "This could be bait."
"It is bait. But if someone's going to hunt me, I want to see their face."
Moments later, the Glider's engines roared to life. The ship dove into the distortion field, stars stretching into ribbons of light.
Later
The Echo Spire hung adrift in silence—a massive spindled tower of black alloy piercing through a field of frozen debris. Its surface shimmered faintly with Emporium runes.
Li Feng adjusted his visor. "Looks like a relic straight out of a nightmare."
K-23's sensors clicked softly. "Resonance levels off the chart. It's alive… or pretending to be."
They docked. Inside, the station was a cathedral of decay—metallic ribs arching over an empty hall. Faint whispers echoed through the structure, like a thousand voices replaying on delay.
Then the console at the center of the chamber flickered. A hologram materialized—hooded, faceless, speaking in a voice that was both mechanical and coldly human.
"Designation confirmed: Li Feng. Unauthorized bearer of the Forge."
Li Feng's hand hovered near his sidearm. "And you must be the Silent Court."
"We are what remains of them. The Custodians who endured after the Emporium fell silent. You wield what you do not understand."
"Then enlighten me."
"The Forge you carry is not a tool—it is an inheritance. It connects all trade, all power, all hunger. When the last Warden fell, the Emporium sealed itself. We were left in silence… until you opened it again."
K-23 stepped forward. "If you are truly the Custodians, why attack him?"
"Because his existence reawakens the cycle of debt and desire. Every life that touches the Forge feeds it. Every trade made sharpens its hunger. He is the spark of its rebirth—and its undoing."
Li Feng's eyes narrowed. "So you want to kill me to stop it."
"To contain it."
The hologram raised a hand. The air shimmered—gravity distorting.
"You are marked, Warden. Either master the Forge… or it will master you."
Then the projection vanished.
Silence returned.
K-23's systems buzzed faintly. "They didn't try to destroy us. Just warn us."
Li Feng stared at the console, jaw tight. "No. That was a test. They wanted to see if I'd flinch."
He turned back toward the airlock. "Set a new course, partner."
"Destination?"
Li Feng's eyes burned faintly with violet light—the Forge's glow echoing behind his pupils.
"Home," he said. "Let's see what the Emporium's really hiding."
The Rusty Glider peeled away from the dead station. Far behind, in the hollow spire, the hologram reactivated once more—this time whispering to unseen figures.
"He's changing faster than the last one. The Emporium remembers."