Elias stumbled back from the pulsing alien core, his suit hissing as it struggled to maintain oxygen and pressure. His chest heaved, sweat stinging his eyes inside the helmet. The alien chamber glowed around him, every surface alive with energy, every fissure in the asteroid throbbing in rhythm with the shadow entity above.
He barely had time to process the alien pulse when the pod's sensors blinked frantically.
"Elias… you need to see this," Sentinel said. Its voice was tense, almost urgent.
He staggered back to the pod, touching the control panel with shaking hands. Outside the viewport, space was no longer empty.
A fleet of unknown warships had appeared, massive, angular, and impossibly precise. They moved in perfect formation, each ship reflecting light like shards of dark crystal, their outlines jagged yet eerily elegant. Energy fields shimmered across their hulls, synchronized in subtle pulses with the alien core inside the asteroid.
"Sentinel… what the hell is that?" Elias whispered, disbelief written across his face.
"Observer-class warships detected. Not human. Advanced alien technology. Shadow entity appears to be coordinating fleet movements," Sentinel reported.
Elias's stomach tightened. He had survived the drones. He had withstood the shadow's probing. He had even touched the alien core—but this… this was something else entirely. A ghost fleet, moving silently in the void, synchronized with the Protocol fragment that pulsed within him.
The shadow pulsed violently above the asteroid, almost as if acknowledging the fleet. Elias realized, with a cold clarity, that the shadow was not the mastermind—it was a scout, a harbinger, a link between the Protocol fragment inside him and this massive, incomprehensible force.
"Sentinel… are they coming for me?"
"Unknown. Probability of hostile engagement: 82%. Recommendation: evasive maneuvers immediately," the AI said.
Elias gritted his teeth. The pod's thrusters whined as he pushed them to full output. He didn't have enough fuel for a proper escape, but he had to try. He twisted the pod sharply, narrowly avoiding a beam of energy that erupted from one of the fleet's lead ships.
The lasers weren't random—they were predictive, anticipating his every move. The fleet was learning, just like the shadow. And the alien core inside the asteroid… it pulsed again, syncing with the fleet's rhythm.
"Sentinel… it's like they're connected. All of them. The core, the shadow, the fleet—they're one system!" Elias shouted.
"Affirmative. Neural feedback from Protocol fragment indicates systemic synchronization," the AI confirmed.
He had seconds—maybe less. He needed a plan, and fast. He scanned the asteroid surface. There was a narrow channel between two massive fissures—a potential escape corridor. But it was narrow, and the fleet was closing in.
Elias slammed the pod into an evasive maneuver, weaving through the jagged terrain. Lasers scorched the asteroid surface, sending showers of debris into space. The pod groaned under stress, warning lights flashing. The shadow above pulsed again, reacting to every maneuver, guiding the fleet like a conductor.
He could feel the Protocol fragment pulsing in his mind, demanding a response. He didn't understand it fully, but he sensed one thing clearly: it wanted him to act, or everything would be destroyed.
He took a deep breath, shutting out fear. One hand on the manual override, the other gripping the thrusters. He would fight—not for survival alone, but to understand the Protocol, to control it before it controlled him.
The pod shot forward, skimming through the fissure. Sparks and debris showered around him as laser beams cut into the asteroid. One of the Observer ships fired a concentrated blast that clipped the pod's hull. He screamed as the cockpit shuddered violently, the remaining shields flickering.
"Hull integrity: 52%! Life support: critical!" Sentinel warned.
He ignored it. Focused only on speed and maneuvering. The shadow above pulsed again—a dark heartbeat in space, echoing the rhythm of the alien core. Elias realized that the pulse wasn't just a warning—it was a test. If he failed, the fleet would annihilate him. If he passed… maybe he could gain control of the Protocol fragment.
Another beam streaked past, missing by centimeters. He twisted violently, skidding across an asteroid ridge, narrowly avoiding a collision. Sparks flew, illuminating the jagged rocks like starlight on broken glass.
Then he saw it: a gap in the fleet formation. Small, almost imperceptible, but enough. It was a chance.
"Sentinel… we take it. Full throttle," he said.
"Probability of success: 27%," the AI replied.
Elias gritted his teeth, ignoring the odds. He pushed the pod's thrusters to their maximum, weaving through the tiny corridor between the massive alien ships. Laser beams screamed past him, the shadow pulsing violently above, reacting in real-time to every maneuver.
The pod twisted and lurched violently, sparks flying across the panels. One last concentrated beam streaked toward him—he could feel the energy pulse, synchronized with the alien core. With a desperate jerk of the controls, he skidded through the gap, the beam grazing the hull and sending metal fragments into space.
He was through.
For a moment, silence. The fleet maintained formation but did not pursue immediately. The shadow above pulsed one last time, then retreated slightly, almost contemplatively. Elias's chest heaved. He had survived. Barely.
But the Protocol fragment inside his mind pulsed violently, stronger than ever. The alien core inside the asteroid continued to beat like a heart, syncing with the shadow, as if watching his every move. He realized with a cold certainty: this wasn't over. The fleet, the shadow, and the Protocol fragment were one system—and it now knew he could survive.
Elias slumped against the harness, sweat dripping, heart racing. He had escaped immediate death—but the universe had marked him now.