The morning came damp and heavy, fog clinging to the treetops like a shroud. The Artemis IV stood silent at the clearing's edge, no longer just wreckage. Its hull shimmered faintly, alien glyphs threading deeper into the patched steel.
Hayes stood before it with arms crossed, jaw tight. "One more test," he muttered. "If it fails, we strip it and walk."
Marquez's hands trembled as she checked her consoles. "It won't fail," she whispered, though whether to herself or the ship, no one could tell.
Daniel climbed aboard last. The crystal in his chest pulsed in rhythm with the hum of the reactor. For a heartbeat, he felt as though the ship was breathing with him.
---
Lift-Off
Inside the cockpit, Okafor's voice shook as he called out, "Core stabilizing… readings are still half glyph, half code."
Hayes gripped the yoke, muscles taut. "Let's see if it behaves this time. Power up."
The hum swelled. Lights flared. The hull shivered, not violently as before, but like a body waking from sleep. Daniel shut his eyes and let the crystal's pulse guide him. His hands hovered over the controls, not touching—yet the systems responded as though sensing his intent.
The Artemis rose smoothly from the ground. No screech of metal, no tearing vibrations. Just a steady climb into the mist.
Marquez's breath caught. "She's… flying."
---
The Connection
Daniel's vision fractured again—metal veins, energy currents, layers of light. He didn't force it this time. He simply let the crystal flow.
He felt the ship's hunger: for air, for altitude, for stars. He guided it upward, and it obeyed, not as a machine, but as an extension of himself.
Hayes glanced sideways, unsettled. "You're not even touching the controls."
"I don't need to," Daniel said, voice distant. "It knows."
Okafor's monitors flickered with alien glyphs merging into flight data. "Captain, this isn't normal. The ship's rewriting its own systems mid-flight. I can't even track what's happening."
Hayes cursed under his breath. "Then pray it doesn't turn on us."
---
The Surge
At three thousand meters, the crystal flared. The ship lurched forward, acceleration doubling. The crew was slammed back into their seats as the Artemis pierced through the fog.
"Too fast!" Okafor shouted. "We'll tear the hull apart!"
But the ship held. Panels that had been barely patched now glowed with alien reinforcement. The air screamed against the hull, yet no fracture appeared.
For one dizzying instant, the Artemis streaked higher than it had ever flown since the crash. Daniel felt the edge of space calling—the black veil beyond Earth's sky.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the surge faded. The ship shuddered, slowing, and dropped back into a controlled glide.
---
Landing
The Artemis IV descended smoothly into the clearing, landing gear settling into the earth with a soft thud.
No alarms. No smoke. No flames.
Silence.
The crew sat frozen, hearts pounding. Then Marquez let out a breathless laugh. "We did it. She flew."
Hayes didn't share her relief. He looked at Daniel, whose chest still glowed faintly. "No. You flew. And now we know—we're not just passengers on this thing. We're prisoners. If that crystal wants us in the stars, it'll drag us whether we're ready or not."
Daniel's eyes lingered on the sky, on the faint glimmer of Mars above. The crystal's pulse quickened, as though echoing Hayes's words.
Not passengers. Not prisoners. Chosen.