Elias's pod drifted through the void, silent except for the low hum of the life support systems. Outside, the stars stretched into long streaks across the viewport, distorted by the quantum anomalies surrounding him. He adjusted the thrusters, trying to maintain a steady course, but the shadows were still there. Always there.
Then they appeared—angular, impossibly fast shapes flitting across the peripheral sensors. Elias squinted, heart tightening. The drones. They moved with predatory precision, each one anticipating every maneuver he made.
"Sentinel, confirm," Elias said, gripping the controls.
"Hostile drones detected. Multiple signatures. Likely scouts of the shadow entity," the AI responded, its voice strained and fragmented.
Elias exhaled sharply. "Figures. Nothing's ever simple."
He pulled the sidearm from the holster on his suit. The barrel glowed faintly in the dim pod lights. He fired. The rounds vaporized midair, disintegrating against some kind of energy shield. The drones didn't flinch.
"Weapons ineffective," Sentinel reported. "Pod-mounted defense insufficient."
Elias ground his teeth. Brute force would get him killed. He floated closer to the console and activated the pod's emergency maneuvers. Thrusters flared, spinning him through a dense field of asteroids. Sparks flew as the pod scraped jagged rocks, sending debris spinning into space.
The drones followed, unrelenting. Their angular forms cut through the void with a terrifying intelligence. Every evasive move he made, they mirrored with uncanny accuracy.
"Sentinel, options?" Elias shouted.
"Options limited. Recommend evasion through asteroid field. Probability of survival: 57%."
Elias smirked grimly. "Better than zero."
He guided the pod into a narrow corridor between two massive asteroids, twisting the thrusters to maximum output. The drones adjusted immediately, firing concentrated energy beams that sheared off chunks of rock. Debris ricocheted dangerously close to the pod.
The first drone struck. Sparks erupted across the hull as the energy beam grazed the cockpit viewport. Elias slammed his hands against the controls, spinning the pod in a tight barrel roll.
"Hull integrity compromised by 12%," Sentinel reported.
Elias ignored the warning. His eyes were fixed on the shadows—the dark, angular shape that followed the drones. Not fully manifested, but definitely present, flickering like a distorted reflection.
It moved with purpose. Not randomly. Not blindly. Like it was testing him.
"It's learning," Sentinel said, voice tinged with static.
"Yes," Elias whispered. "And I'm going to teach it something new."
He reached for the neural interface, hands shaking slightly. The fragment of the Protocol inside him pulsed violently. Memories not his own—flashes of battlefields, screaming soldiers, alien skies burning—assaulted his mind.
"Elias… stabilize neural input," Sentinel instructed.
He forced his eyes open, forcing focus on the physical pod and not the visions tearing through his consciousness. One hand gripped the controls, the other pressed against the console, grounding himself.
Another drone streaked past the pod, firing a concentrated beam. Elias twisted violently. Sparks flew inside the cockpit, and alarms screamed.
The shadow pulsed, and for the first time, Elias felt a whisper in his mind—not words, but intent. It was probing him, testing boundaries. A predator sizing up its prey.
"Sentinel… it's inside my head now," he said through gritted teeth.
"Partial infiltration detected. Attempting neural firewall."
It didn't work. The pulse came again, stronger, filling him with impossible knowledge: star systems he'd never seen, fleets moving faster than light, machines that could crush planets like toys.
Elias's body trembled. He forced a laugh. "Okay… if you want to play mind games, fine. I'll play too."
He activated the pod's auxiliary thrusters, weaving violently through the asteroid field. Debris spun around him. One drone struck, and the cockpit shuddered violently. The shadow pulsed again, reacting to every movement.
"Evasion success: 22%," Sentinel reported.
"Not good enough," Elias muttered. He gritted his teeth, slamming his hand onto the manual override. The pod jerked violently, flipping end over end as the quantum fields around the anomalies distorted.
The shadow hesitated, then pulsed with a sharp, almost audible vibration. It recoiled slightly, as if surprised. Elias's lips pressed into a thin smile.
He had bought himself time—but he knew it wouldn't last.
Another drone streaked toward the cockpit, faster than he could track. Alarms blared. He twisted the pod, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. Sparks flew across the panels.
The shadow loomed closer, its dark, angular form almost fully visible now. Energy flickered across its edges. Not a ship. Not alive in any sense Elias had ever known. Something else.
"Sentinel…" he said quietly, almost to himself, "we need a plan that doesn't involve brute force."
"Plan unavailable," the AI replied. "Recommendation: survival through improvisation."
Elias nodded, jaw tight. Improvisation had kept him alive so far. He would need it again—more than ever.
A sudden spike of energy pulsed through the pod. Lights flickered violently. The shadow hesitated, then pulsed again—a warning or a challenge, Elias didn't know which.