Kael had run through the Astral Warden a thousand times.
He knew every ladder, hatch, maintenance pit, and emergency shortcut.
But now?
The hallways didn't match.
Rhea noticed it too. "This corridor… it wasn't here yesterday."
Kael scanned the walls. Smooth metal, polished, seamless like the ship had rebuilt itself overnight.
Or been rewritten.
"Stay close," he murmured.
Rhea gave a humorless laugh. "Where else would I go?"
They kept moving. Boots echoed against the floor not metallic, but something softer, almost like cartilage.
Kael tried not to think about it.
The hum of the engines followed them except the engines weren't engines anymore.
He forced his breathing steady.
"I don't understand," Rhea said quietly. "Why mutate the ship? Why not just kill us?"
"They don't want us dead," Kael said. "They want us afraid."
Rhea sighed. "Mission accomplished."
They reached a junction. Kael expected three branching corridors.
Now there were five.
Rhea stared at him. "Pick one."
Kael closed his eyes, mapping the distance, the structure, the angles. Something in him still remembered the ship beneath the infection.
He pointed left. "This one leads up."
They walked.
The lights above flickered, not randomly but like blinking eyes watching them pass.
Rhea tightened her grip on her rifle. "If we survive this, I'm never stepping on another starship again."
Kael smirked faintly. "You say that every mission."
"And this time I mean it."
For a brief moment, they almost felt normal two officers trapped in chaos, joking like always.
Then the corridor split open.
Not like a door.
Like a wound.
Sinewy metal peeled back, creating an archway. A cold breeze slipped through, smelling like salt and static.
Kael froze.
The bridge.
Except… it shouldn't be here.
The bridge sat eleven decks above engineering. They'd climbed maybe three.
Rhea whispered, "It moved."
Kael nodded. "Or it grew."
They stepped inside.
The command center looked untouched consoles intact, lights steady, glass clear, stars visible through the viewport.
Almost peaceful.
Almost normal.
Kael didn't trust it.
Rhea swept the room with her weapon. "No bodies. No signs of struggle."
Kael approached the captain's chair his chair. He stared at it like it belonged to someone else.
He used to feel powerful here.
Now he felt hunted.
The navigation screens powered on.
Kael flinched.
No one touched them.
Coordinates flashed across the display long strings of numbers, decimals, encrypted markers.
Rhea leaned closer. "That's near the Perseid Expanse, right?"
Kael shook his head. "No. Past it."
Rhea frowned. "There's nothing past it. No charted systems. No stations. Just dark space."
Exactly.
"Something wants us there," Kael said.
Before Rhea could respond, the ship spoke not through speakers, but through every surface.
A voice, layered, whispering, endless:
"RETURN."
Rhea stumbled back. "Okay, no. We're not doing that."
Kael approached the console and tried to override the coordinates.
The system rejected him.
"Access denied."
He tried again.
"Access denied."
Rhea exhaled sharply. "So it's flying us into a void. Fantastic."
Kael leaned forward, speaking slowly. "Why are you doing this?"
Silence.
Then the stars outside shifted not physically, but like an image changing. Suddenly, Titan-6 appeared, floating in the distance.
Rhea shook her head. "That's impossible."
Titan-6 had been destroyed.
Kael knew because he ordered the orbital strike.
He stepped toward the viewport.
The colony dome looked intact. Lights shimmered. Atmosphere stable. As if nothing ever happened.
"No," Kael whispered. "This isn't real."
"It's a memory," Rhea said. "Or a message."
Kael's chest tightened, a familiar ache returning regret sharpened into a blade.
He never wanted to destroy Titan-6.
He never wanted to leave those people behind.
But there was no choice. The infection had spread too fast. Containment was impossible.
Or so command told him.
Kael whispered, "What if Lysa's right?"
Rhea turned slowly. "About what?"
"What if the infection didn't start on Titan-6?" Kael looked at her. "What if it was placed there?"
Rhea didn't answer because she didn't want to.
He couldn't blame her.
He barely wanted to think it.
The ship vibrated gently at first, then stronger. The stars outside blurred into streaks.
They were moving.
Rhea's eyes widened. "Jump engines are charging."
Kael lunged toward the emergency cutoff, slammed his palm against it.
Nothing happened.
He hit it again.
Still nothing.
"They took control of propulsion," Kael said.
"How long until the jump?" Rhea asked.
Kael checked the countdown.
Two minutes.
Rhea cursed. "Okay. Options. Airlock? Escape pods?"
Kael shook his head. "Pods are compromised. And if we leave, we drift into the void."
"So we're trapped."
Kael didn't respond which was confirmation enough.
Rhea paced, panicked but thinking. "Is there any way to shut the ship down manually?"
"There is," Kael said. "The failsafe core in the command spine."
"Good. Let's go."
Kael hesitated.
Rhea noticed immediately. "What is it?"
"The failsafe doesn't just shut the ship down," Kael said quietly. "It kills it."
Rhea blinked. "Kills it?"
Kael looked at the floor. "Destroys the fusion heart. Vaporizes everything within three kilometers."
Rhea stared at him. "Including us."
He nodded.
Silence pressed between them.
Then Rhea stepped closer, eyes steady. "Kael. If that thing reaches dark space, this doesn't end with one ship. It spreads."
Kael knew.
He had always known.
Rhea softened. "You're not a monster. You tried to save Titan-6. And you're trying to save us now."
Kael swallowed. "If we do this, there's no coming back."
Rhea raised her chin. "Then we make it count."
The countdown hit one minute.
Kael turned toward the exit.
Rhea followed.
Before they left, Kael glanced once more at the viewport.
Titan-6 flickered and disappeared.
In its place, he saw something else.
Black. Endless. Waiting.
The future.
Kael exhaled. "Let's go."
They ran not away from death, but toward the only choice left.
Because survival wasn't the mission anymore.
Stopping whatever was coming was.
Even if it meant becoming martyrs.