Luna-9 – Extraction Hallway
The station was coming apart at the seams.
Alarms shrieked in digital agony, and warning glyphs poured across every surface as the facility's AI nervously tried to evacuate itself. The walls pulsed with ghost-code, like nerves in a dying brain. Debris fell in slow motion through the flickering artificial gravity. The team ran — or limped, depending on trauma.
Kai kicked a broken drone aside. "I hate this place. Just putting it out there. I want this place to explode. Preferably after we leave."
Lia sprinted ahead, checking her path with gun drawn. "Shut up and cover our flank, dumbass."
Behind them, Ethan carried the shard—wrapped in a containment blanket, pulsing softly like a heartbeat. It was warm. Organic. Wrong.
And in his head, he could hear his father's voice.
"Ethan... you're not supposed to be here yet."
He stopped mid-stride.
Aly turned sharply. "You heard it too."
