Kael didn't remember the Astral Warden ever feeling this cold.
The corridors used to hum with life crew voices, engine vibrations, footsteps, arguments, laughter.
Now everything was silent.
Too silent.
Rhea jogged beside him, breathing hard. "How far to the command spine?"
"Seven decks up," Kael said. "Two if the lifts still work."
Rhea shot him a look. "Do they?"
Kael exhaled. "Not a chance."
They reached a vertical shaft. The ladder stretched upward into darkness.
Rhea stared at it. "I hate climbing."
Kael grabbed the first rung. "Add it to the list."
They climbed.
Metal creaked beneath their weight not metal, Kael realized. Something softer. Something alive.
He didn't tell Rhea.
Halfway up, the ship groaned.
Rhea froze. "Tell me that was normal."
"It wasn't," Kael said.
The walls pulsed faintly, like veins carrying blood.
Rhea whispered, "Kael… what if the ship isn't infected?"
He paused. "Explain."
"What if the ship is the infection?"
Kael closed his eyes.
The thought had been clawing at him since the coordinates appeared.
"We focus on the failsafe," he said. "Everything else comes later."
They reached Deck 22 and climbed out of the shaft.
This level should've been packed with technicians, engineers, backup crew, supply storage.
Instead, it was empty.
No tools.
No equipment.
No personal belongings.
Just smooth, bare walls like the ship had erased everything that made it human.
Rhea lifted her rifle. "I hate this place."
Kael didn't disagree.
They walked.
The lights flickered rhythmically. Not like malfunctioning bulbs more like breathing.
Rhea glanced at him. "Do you think anyone else survived?"
Kael wanted to lie.
He didn't.
"No."
Rhea nodded slowly. "Then we finish what's left."
They reached a sealed door circular, thick, reinforced. The words COMMAND SPINE ACCESS were etched across the surface.
Kael placed his palm on the scanner.
The door unlocked immediately.
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "It's expecting you."
Kael didn't respond.
They stepped inside.
The corridor beyond was narrow, stretching endlessly upward. The ceiling vanished in shadow, lit only by a thin glowing line along the floor.
Rhea squinted. "How tall is this?"
"Eighteen decks," Kael said. "The spine houses the fusion heart, navigation relay, failsafe core"
He stopped.
Because something stood at the far end.
A silhouette.
Human.
Perfectly still.
Rhea's breath caught. "That better be an illusion."
Kael didn't move.
The figure didn't move either but Kael felt it watching.
Rhea whispered, "Do we"
The lights snapped off.
Darkness swallowed them.
Kael reached for the emergency lamp on his vest.
Something moved behind them.
Rhea spun, gun raised. "Show yourself."
No reply.
Kael activated the lamp. A narrow beam of white light sliced through the dark.
The hall was empty.
But the silhouette was gone.
Rhea swallowed. "I hate this more than climbing."
Kael lowered the light. "Keep walking."
They moved slowly now steps measured, breaths shallow.
The ship trembled beneath them, like something shifting deep inside.
The countdown still hammered in Kael's mind.
Thirty seconds until the jump.
He picked up the pace. "We're running out of time."
They reached a blast door final security before the failsafe core.
Kael entered his command code.
The panel flashed red.
"Authorization revoked."
Rhea frowned. "Since when can a ship revoke a captain's access?"
Kael stepped back. "It doesn't want to die."
Rhea's voice softened. "Neither do we."
Kael searched the wall, found the manual override slot. "Cover me."
Rhea positioned herself, weapon ready.
Kael inserted the override key, twisted hard.
The blast door hissed open.
Heat hit them not engine heat, but something raw, burning, primal.
Kael shielded his eyes.
Rhea whispered, "What happened to it?"
The failsafe chamber used to be clean, sterile, surgically precise.
Now it looked like a cathedral built from bones.
Pillars of fused metal curved like ribs. Wires dangled like nerves. The fusion heart pulsed in the center bright, rhythmic, alive.
Too alive.
Kael stepped forward, chest tight. "This isn't a machine anymore."
Rhea's voice cracked. "Is it growing?"
Kael nodded.
The infection hadn't taken the ship.
The ship had become the infection.
He approached the control console. "Once I trigger the failsafe, we'll have ten seconds."
Rhea nodded. "Understood."
Kael hesitated. "Rhea… you don't have to stay."
She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm not letting you die alone."
Kael didn't argue.
Not now.
Not at the end.
He placed his hand on the ignition panel.
The fusion heart pulsed faster.
Warning sirens blared.
Rhea flinched. "It knows."
Kael pressed down.
Nothing happened.
The console rejected him.
"Authorization denied."
Rhea cursed. "You're the captain! How"
Kael looked at the pulsing heart.
"It rewrote the command hierarchy."
"It made itself captain," Rhea whispered.
The ship vibrated violently engines roaring awake.
Kael checked the timer.
Five seconds until the jump.
Rhea grabbed his arm. "Kael"
The floor split open.
A tendril of metal shot upward, wrapping around Kael's leg, yanking him backward.
Rhea screamed, fired three shots, missed.
Kael hit the floor hard.
More tendrils rose, reaching, clawing, hungry.
Rhea reloaded, fired again this time hitting one. Sparks flew. The tendril recoiled.
Kael tore himself free, scrambling up.
Rhea grabbed his jacket, pulling him toward the exit.
The ship roared engines engaging, reality bending.
Kael looked at the flashing countdown.
Zero.
And then
Silence.
No movement.
No vibration.
No sound.
The ship should've jumped.
It didn't.
Rhea's voice trembled. "Did we stop it?"
Kael stared at the fusion heart.
It wasn't pulsing anymore.
It was staring.
A single, glowing eye.
Watching him.
And then it spoke.
Not aloud.
Inside his mind.
"You cannot escape what you created."
Kael froze.
Rhea touched his shoulder. "Kael? Hey. What is it?"
He couldn't answer.
Because for the first time…
He wasn't sure the enemy was out there.
It might have always been him.