Emergency power failed in waves.
Parts of the ship shifted between dim red light and total darkness. Systems struggled to keep main paths lit. Smoke gathered along the ceiling and drifted slowly toward vents. Somewhere deep inside, something large collapsed with a long metal scream that shook the floor.
Lieutenant Carrow's team moved at a careful jog. Their guns pointed up as often as forward.
No one said it, but everyone felt it.
The thing in the vents had gone quiet.
That did not mean it was gone.
"Status?" Carrow asked.
"Reactor unstable," the comm officer said. "Pirate signals dropping. Either they are retreating or something is killing them."
A sharp sound cut through the radio noise.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
All helmets alerted at once.
"Life sign detected," the comm officer said, surprise in his voice. "Single human. Weak but stable."
Carrow stopped immediately. "Location."
A map appeared on their visors. The signal blinked in a part of the ship that should not exist anymore.
"Cargo Spine C," the specialist said. "But that section was destroyed."
"Air is partially restored," the comm officer replied. "Emergency doors must have sealed it."
Carrow did not pause. "Move."
The entrance to the cargo area looked like a torn wound.
Walls had bent inward, forcing them to squeeze through narrow gaps. The smell changed here. Less burnt electronics, more raw metal and spilled cargo chemicals that burned the nose.
Their lights swept over the damage.
Shipping containers lay crushed open. Crates were embedded in the walls. A section of floor had peeled up, exposing pipes and support beams.
No bodies.
No pirates.
Just emptiness.
"Life sign ahead," the comm officer said softly. "Thirty meters."
They climbed over debris into what used to be a loading bay.
Then they stopped.
At the far end, under a single flickering light, something hung from the ceiling.
At first it looked like wreckage. A cluster of cables hanging down like a metal nest.
Then it shifted slightly.
Carrow stepped forward, heart pounding. "Lights."
Several beams focused on it.
A human figure appeared inside the wires.
Eli Zenith hung high above the floor. His arms dangled. His head leaned forward as if he were asleep. Thick cables wrapped around his chest and legs. Some were caught in torn fabric. Others were tight enough to hold him in place.
For a moment, Carrow thought he was dead.
Then the comm officer spoke. "Life sign confirmed. It's him."
Relief hit the team all at once.
"How is he alive?" someone whispered.
Carrow moved closer, watching for traps or movement.
Up close, it looked worse.
Eli's clothes were shredded and covered in dried blood. Dark stains covered his arms and neck. His skin was pale. His lips were slightly blue.
But his chest moved.
Slow.
Steady.
A soldier raised his light higher. "Sir. Look."
The cables were not random.
Some had been twisted together on purpose, forming thick strands that held him up. It looked less like an accident and more like something had placed him there.
Carrow forced that thought away. "Get him down. Carefully."
Two soldiers used cutting tools to slice the cables one at a time. Each cut line snapped back with a metallic crack, throwing sparks. The smell of burning plastic filled the air.
When the last cables broke, Eli's body dropped.
Carrow caught him.
He felt strange.
Not heavier. Not lighter.
Just dense, like his body had been packed tighter than normal. His muscles felt hard under the torn clothes, but his pulse was weak.
"Easy," Carrow said, lowering him to the floor.
Eli's head rolled to the side.
Something dark was crusted along his hairline.
Blood, and something else. A black residue that flaked like dried paint.
The medic scanned him. "Multiple cuts and bruises. Possible internal damage. But nothing explains how he survived."
Carrow did not care. "Medical evacuation. Now."
A folding stretcher snapped open. They secured Eli and strapped him down. Oxygen was placed over his face.
As the mask settled, he stirred slightly.
His eyelids moved.
A faint sound escaped him, not a word, not a groan. Something in between.
Carrow leaned closer. "Lord Zenith. Can you hear me?"
No answer.
But Eli's fingers moved once.
A soldier stiffened. "Sir… did you see that?"
"See what?"
"Probably nerve reflex," the medic said quickly, though he did not sound sure.
Carrow nodded. "Move."
They carried him back through the ruined ship. Boots crunched on debris. Guns scanned dark corners out of habit.
Nothing else appeared.
No movement in the vents.
No sounds in the walls.
Only distant evacuation noise and the groaning of a dying ship.
The emergency ward was packed with wounded crew. Medics rushed between beds. Machines hummed. The smell of antiseptic mixed with blood and burnt flesh.
"Priority patient," Carrow said as they entered.
Everyone looked up.
Recognition spread fast.
"Clear a table."
They placed Eli on a medical bed. Scanners lowered, bathing him in blue light. Data filled the displays.
One medic frowned. "Vitals are unstable."
"Explain," Carrow said.
"Heart rate jumping high and low. Body temperature dropping, then spiking. Brain activity extremely high for someone unconscious."
Another medic leaned toward a screen. "Genetic markers are… that cannot be right."
"What cannot be right?" Carrow asked.
The medic hesitated. "Probably equipment damage."
Suddenly Eli's body jerked against the restraints.
Not violent. Just a sharp full body twitch.
Nearby patients cried out.
"Sedative," the lead medic said.
An injector hissed and delivered the drug.
Nothing happened at first.
Then Eli's breathing deepened.
His pulse steadied.
The monitors calmed.
The medic let out a breath. "He is stabilizing."
Carrow stepped back, exhaustion hitting him now that the crisis had passed. "Keep me updated."
"Of course."
Eli Zenith lay still on the medical bed.
But whatever had come back with him was not asleep.