The cockpit lights dimmed to a as Atlas flicked the final switch on the hyperspace interface.
A soft chime followed, indicating the system was ready to enter phase one of the jump protocol.
Outside the viewport, the stars lay scattered like fine grains of salt on a canvas of velvet black, peaceful and unaware of the machine preparing to rupture space itself.
EVA's voice cut through the hum.
"All systems calibrated. Hyperspace capacitor at 99.8%. Recommend initiation in sixty seconds."
Atlas leaned back in the pilot's chair, staring at the multi-hued threads of code that danced across his terminal. His breath fogged faintly against the inside of the helmet visor as he took one long inhale.
"Have we got all the failsafes lined?" he asked, more for routine than concern. EVA always got it right.
"All subsystems show green. Temporal stabilizer within 0.01% margin. Radiation shielding nominal. No anomalies."
He muttered to himself. "Always the calm before the jump."
Atlas stood and walked toward the central core, boots echoing softly in the metallic corridor.
The hyperspace engine colloquially nicknamed the "Ripple Core" was housed in a reinforced chamber with triple-layered magnetic seals.
A soft thrum filled the space, like the heartbeat of a sleeping beast.
He placed his gloved hand against the thick glass wall that separated him from the core.
"I don't trust this thing," he whispered.
"Never did."
A moment passed before EVA responded.
"Your distrust is noted. However, this model has a 99.96% success rate across Federation routes.
"Yeah? Tell that to the 0.04%."
He returned to his seat and buckled in, double-checking the emergency harnesses. A lifetime of experience had taught him to never trust a smooth launch.
"EVA," he said. "Let's do it."
"Affirmative. Hyperspace protocol initiating. Please remain seated."
A sequence of mechanical clicks echoed through the ship as the hyperspace gates aligned. The stars outside the window began to blur. A low-frequency hum pressed into Atlas's chest like a heavy pulse.
"Countdown: ten… nine… eight…"
He gripped the armrests tightly, lips pressed into a thin line.
"…three… two… one"
A sharp jolt hit the ship. Not the clean, controlled vibration of a normal jump but a gut-punch of force.
"EVA?"
"Anomaly detected. Ripple Core is destabilizing. Flux inconsistency rising. Recommending abort."
"No. Stabilize it stabilize it, dammit!"
"Core is not responding to manual override.
Attempting external dampening"
The lights flared blinding white. Screams of metal, alarms, bursts of static from every speaker.
Atlas's body went weightless, then crushed under invisible pressure.
And then.
Darkness.
Silence.
Not even EVA's voice remained.
Only the hollow pulse of blood in his ears, and the fading echo of his own scream.