The silence inside the ship was brittle.Every console lay dark, every hum of the Archive reduced to a dull pulse that barely reached Maya's skin.
Vector kept watch from the cockpit, his weapon across his knees. Rei slept fitfully in the medical pod, pale light tracing the veins that had turned faintly blue. And Maya stood at the viewport, eyes on the ghost-lit field of stars.
"They're breaking the link. When it snaps… I won't remember you."
Kiran's words hadn't stopped replaying.
The comm crackled. "Incoming transmission," Vector said quietly. "Same signature as before."
Maya's stomach tightened. "Asha."
The hologram formed in front of them: Asha Varin, composed as ever, the glow of her veins steady, deliberate. Behind her, a hall of followers bowed their heads — the other Carriers.
"You're unraveling," Asha said softly. "I can feel it from here."
Maya forced her voice steady. "Then you know why I'm not in the mood for speeches."
Asha smiled without warmth. "This isn't a speech. It's a warning. The Archive is changing. Every time you reach for it, it reaches back — and when it's done, it will use you to end the rest of us."
Vector moved forward. "She's not your enemy."
Asha's gaze slid to him. "You think loyalty makes her safe? You can't see what I do, soldier. I see the code crawling through her blood."
Maya's jaw clenched. "You said before that you'd decide what rises after me. That's why you're really here, isn't it? You want control."
Asha tilted her head. "I want survival. Yours, mine, the world's — but not if you become the spark that erases it."
The hologram flickered, and suddenly Maya wasn't on her ship anymore. The Archive pulled her into its light, the bridge dissolving into an ocean of code.Asha stood across from her — not a projection now, but a reflection.
"This is your trial," Asha whispered. "Every Carrier faces it once. Prove that you can command the Archive without letting it command you."
The light around them surged. A thousand voices whispered at once, the Archive judging both of them.
"Anchor One. Anchor Two. Compatibility scan… unstable."
Maya felt heat crawl up her arms. The rifle in her hands flared, reacting to Asha's glow. Two opposite forces — same origin, same bloodline.
"You can't beat me," Asha said, her voice echoing like thunder through the code. "The Archive favors balance, not chaos."
Maya raised the weapon, light burning in her eyes. "Then it should have chosen someone else."
The Archive screamed.
Two carriers, two wills, clashing in a storm of light. Glyphs shattered across the void. The space between them fractured, collapsing into pure white.
And then — darkness.
Maya gasped awake on the ship's deck, Vector kneeling beside her. Smoke rose from the console; Rei had stumbled out of the med pod, clutching his head.
Vector's voice was hoarse. "What happened?"
Maya swallowed, her hands trembling. "She tried to test me… and I think I won."
Rei stared at her glowing arms. "If that's true… then why are the ships outside moving?"
Through the viewport, the Ghost Fleet was shifting — aligning itself not with Maya's command, but toward the coordinates Asha had last transmitted.
Asha's voice echoed faintly through the static, calm and cold:
"You've proven your strength, Maya Kade. Now prove your allegiance."
🔥 Next: Chapter 46 – The Ghost Fleet Divides. Loyalty fractures, Vector must choose his side, and Kiran's fading presence returns in the most unexpected way.