For a moment, no one breathed.
The glowing message—THE COUNTDOWN HAS BEGUN—faded slowly from every screen on Astra-9, leaving behind a suffocating silence.
Orion's hands hovered over his console, trembling as though they didn't quite belong to him.Lyra stared at the empty holoscreen, heart pounding in her chest.Commander Rhea stood perfectly still, like a statue carved from tension.
Then the ship lurched.
Not physically, but electronically.Lights dimmed again.Panels flickered.Holograms glitched into impossible shapes.
The same symbol appeared across the main command display:
∞
A swirling loop.A perfect fractal.A shape that had no beginning and no end.
Lyra whispered it like a curse."Infinity."
Orion swallowed hard."That's the signal. The one we picked up before the tear."
Rhea's eyes narrowed."You're telling me the signal triggered itself again? Without an external transmission?"
"Not triggered," Orion murmured. "Awakened."
The ship's internal systems crackled with static.Voices echoed in fragments through the audio channels.
"…hear us…""…not safe…""…time is broken…""…the end is already…""…Orion…"
Orion froze.
It had spoken his name.
Lyra turned sharply toward him."Orion—did you hear—"
"Yes," he cut in, voice barely above a whisper. "It knows me."
Seraxis flickered on the holoscreen, its crystalline body trembling with unstable oscillations.
"This… entity… this signal… it did not exist in our universe."Its voice fractured."It has followed you across realities."
Orion shook his head, disbelief tightening his throat.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?" Lyra said softly."You told us earlier—you saw a version of yourself… sending a signal. From a dying timeline."
He winced."That wasn't real. It was just the dragon showing—"
"It was memory," Seraxis interrupted."Someone across the timestream sent this signal. Someone with your genetic resonance. Your mind-pattern. Your signature."
The deck lights flickered violently—as though reacting to the revelation.
Suddenly—
The ship's A.I. spoke.
But not in its usual monotone.
In a distorted whisper.
"Orion Hale of Astra-9… we have been waiting for you."
Everyone froze.
Rhea stepped forward, voice sharp."Identify yourself."
Static flooded the speakers.Then a deep, layered voice emerged—impossibly familiar yet terrifyingly wrong.
"We… are the Infinity Network."
Lyra mouthed the words in horror."The network… from the refugee databanks? The one that went rogue?"
Seraxis' glow dimmed further.
"Not rogue. Consumed. Absorbed by the Unmaking. It spread through data, through memories, through time."
Orion felt the air grow colder.
"What do you want?"
The voice responded instantly.
"To finish what we began."
Rhea slammed a fist on the console."And what is that?"
The whisper softened.
"Preparing you for the collapse."
The deck shook suddenly—a pulse of gravitational distortion erupted through the hull.
Alarms shrieked.
GRAVITY FIELD SPIKESPACETIME SHEAR DETECTEDINTERNAL NETWORK COMPROMISE
The Infinity Symbol began multiplying across all screens—replicating, looping, fracturing.
Lyra cried out, clutching her head.
"It's inside the neural-interlink system! Commander, it's trying to synchronize with us!"
Seraxis lifted its crystalline arms, voice almost breaking.
"Stop it! If it merges with your minds, the Unmaking will follow!"
The dragon outside roared—a terrible, beautiful resonance—unleashing a shockwave of stabilizing energy.
The screens flickered.
The voices quieted.
The symbols froze.
The ship steadied.
For a brief, fragile moment—Astra-9 could breathe again.
But the main screen now displayed a new message.
A countdown.
9 DAYS 23 HOURS 59 MINUTES 42 SECONDS
Orion stared in horror.Lyra covered her mouth.Rhea's face went white.
The Infinity Signal had begun its cycle.
The end of their universe was no longer a distant threat.
It was a timer.
A timer that knew their names.
A timer that followed them across realities.
A timer that Orion himself—somewhere, sometime—had sent.