The ship felt colder now.
Days had passed since the encounter with Asha Varin, but the tension hadn't eased. The Ghost Fleet drifted behind them like silent watchers, its dormant glow dimming with each hour of Maya's hesitation.
Rei hadn't spoken much. When he did, it was usually to the console—whispering equations, recalibrating signal paths, feeding code directly into the Archive's interface.
Vector didn't like it. "He's been at that thing for fourteen hours straight," he muttered, pacing behind Maya. "You sure we can still trust him?"
Maya's gaze stayed on the viewport, eyes distant. "He's trying to find Kiran's signal."
Vector snorted. "That's what he says."
She turned slightly, exhaustion pulling at her features. "You think he's lying?"
"I think he's drowning." Vector's tone softened, but the worry in it ran deep. "The Archive eats people, Maya. You of all people should know that."
Before she could answer, Rei's voice cut through the silence. "I found it."
They turned. His hands hovered over the console, trembling. The screens glowed with an unstable pulse—blue threaded with red.
Kiran's signal.
Faint, fractured, but real.
Maya stepped closer, her chest tightening. "Patch it through."
Rei hesitated, eyes flicking toward her, then Vector. "It's unstable. I don't know what will—"
"Do it," she ordered.
The console screamed with static. Symbols spilled across the walls like bleeding code. And then—his voice.
"Maya… where are you?"
Her heart stopped. "Kiran?"
"You shouldn't… be here." The words came slow, fragmented. "They're… splitting me apart. You can't—"
The signal cracked. Rei's fingers flew across the interface. "Hold it—hold it—"
"Rei—stop—" Kiran's voice sharpened suddenly, clear enough to cut through the interference. "It's feeding on him."
Maya's stomach dropped. "What?"
Before she could move, the lights flared. The Archive's hum grew violent, the same rhythm as Rei's heartbeat. His body convulsed, eyes glowing bright blue as symbols raced up his neck.
Vector lunged, grabbing him. "Shut it down! Shut it down now!"
Rei screamed, the sound human and digital at once. "I can save him—just let me—"
Then the console exploded in a burst of light.
Maya hit the floor hard, ears ringing. When she looked up, Rei was motionless—alive, but pale, his veins faintly luminescent.
Vector dragged him away from the smoking console, muttering curses under his breath. "He's done. No more systems, no more Archive."
But Maya barely heard him.
Because through the dying crackle of the transmission, one last fragment of Kiran's voice whispered through the static:
"They're… breaking the link. When it snaps… I won't remember you."
And then—silence.
Maya's breath trembled. For the first time since the war began, she felt the Archive go quiet inside her, as if it too was listening.
Not in defiance.In grief.
🔥 Next: Chapter 45 – The Carrier's Trial. Asha returns, demanding Maya choose between saving Kiran or saving the galaxy's last chance at balance.