The Wraith glided through unmarked space, where stars thinned and darkness stretched like an old, unmended wound. Ahead, nestled in the folds of interstellar static, floated a monolith angular, unpowered, and impossibly old.
The signal had led them here. A whisper that refused to fade. A voice that begged to be remembered.
"…hello? Can anyone… remember me?"
Nova frowned from the pilot's seat, adjusting the scanners. "The place doesn't even show up in dead Architect records. Like someone tried to erase it from time."
Damien's voice came through tightly. "That's not all. The structure is wrapped in chrono-distortion. Time doesn't move right inside. Sensors are losing sync."
Elara stood at the viewport, arms crossed. "Then it's a memory vault. Or what's left of one."
Valen checked his gear. "Who'd be desperate enough to hide themselves in something like that?"
Aeron's answer was grim. "Someone who didn't want to be forgotten. Or someone who was forgotten."
