The debrief room was colder than usual, the climate control struggling against the sudden storm breaking outside. A single, unstable hologram hovered above the conference table: the shattered remains of the Neptune probe they had destroyed in orbit. Each fragment pulsed with a faint, insistent blue light.
Queen Emica stood at the head of the table. Her uniform was half-buckled, and her dark hair was damp from the rain that had started over Ourea Primis.
"You all did well," she said. "The probe was merely a scouting model. But its tech signature is not Martian, Jovian, or even standard Outer Belt. It is unequivocally Neptune."
That word silenced the room completely.
Itsuki Kido let out a low whistle, running his chewed-up tech wire across his knuckles. "Neptune? That's some serious bullshit. They haven't broken the Treaty since they went completely silent years ago."
"Since Marshal Yoshi married Rin, the Neptune ambassador, and disappeared off the grid, yes," Kotaro Sakata finished for him, his expression rigid.
Emica's eyes narrowed, betraying nothing. "The signature we found embedded in the debris isn't just Neptune's code. It's encrypted with a specific foreign psionic symbol." She tapped a control; a black, vicious emblem appeared in the air, made of curved lines that twisted into a chaotic spiral. "We're calling it the Malice Mark."
Chinami Arai leaned forward, her violet eyes critical, her lips curling in disgust. "Seriously? The Malice Mark? That name sounds like the terrible B-plot of bad science fiction. I hate it."
"It's accurate," Emica said flatly, ignoring the complaint. "Our analysts found a powerful psionic pulse in the data stream. Someone used this symbol to command the probe remotely, from outside the Solar Network. Whoever they are, they know the Sovereign Protocol inside and out. They knew where to hit us."
The Queen turned to the squad. "You four will handle field tracking. Find any repeat of this signature in Earth's orbit, or any signs of ground infiltration. And Hana, stay close to the capital until further orders. You are our highest-SYNC Protocol user; you'll be the anchor."
Hana Jin met her gaze without flinching. "Understood."
Later, in the Elite wing, the team's nervous chatter filled the corridor.
"So, first a probe gets blown up, and now we're supposed to be fucking code-ghost hunting for a mark called 'Malice'," Itsuki said, spinning a screwdriver between his fingers. "Anyone else feel seriously underpaid to deal with interplanetary conspiracies?"
"You're not paid at all, Kido," Chinami replied, pushing past him. "We're assets. Get used to it."
"Right. So I'm being exploited to save the planet from alien sorcerers. Doubly underpaid."
Hana walked a step behind them, quiet. Her internal display replayed the Malice Mark in the corner of her vision. The twisting shapes of it left a cold knot in her stomach. It shouldn't have felt familiar, but it did. Something about its intricate cruelty reminded her of a cold smile she had seen once, years ago, in a blood-lit throne room on Venus. Her sister, Kata.
Kotaro glanced back at her, his composure slightly frayed. "You think this is connected to Kata, Jin? Could this Mark be Venusian?"
"I don't know," Hana said after a moment. "But if someone's willing to hide behind other worlds to hurt us, that sounds exactly like something she'd admire. She always preferred the indirect kill."
Chinami smirked, walking backward to face Hana. "Great. Your family's inspirational. At least we know where you get your charming personality from."
Hana gave her a flat look. "Shut up, Arai."
"See? Charm," Chinami countered, then lowered her voice slightly. "Seriously though, don't let the code get to you. You look like you're trying to solve the secret to the universe with your eyelids. Turn it off for a minute."
That night, the storm broke violently over Ourea Primis. Lightning crawled across the mountain ridges. Hana stood alone on the observation deck, watching the clouds wrap around the peaks. She should have gone back to the sterile dorms, but a faint harmonic hum beneath the thunder pulled at her.
She followed the sound, a soft, vibrant humming from below the terrace, and found a hidden gate open to a massive, climate-controlled glass garden. The air inside was thick with ozone, warmth, and chlorophyll. Hundreds of luminous orbs hung from crystal vines, their colors shifting slowly through the entire visible spectrum: crimson, gold, azure, violet, and a deep, light-swallowing black.
A scientist knelt beside one of the vines, adjusting its nutrient feed via a small tablet. He startled violently when he saw her. "Elite access only! Oh. Miss Hana Jin." He hesitated, wiping sweat from his brow. "The Queen's orders?"
"I was just walking," Hana said, moving closer. "What are these?"
"Protocol Core-Gems," he answered, almost reverently, standing up quickly. "They are Energy-cores grown directly from Earth's deep life system, specifically stabilized to interface with the Sovereign Protocol. This is basically the raw, planetary source of our power." Each color channels a different wavelength of planetary essence. "The red ones are fire and pure vitality. The blue is clarity and speed. The black," he whispered, gesturing to a dense cluster of light-absorbing gems near the center, "is pure void energy. Only a handful of those exist. They are the most volatile."
Hana stepped closer to the cluster of black gems. Its total lack of reflected light was hypnotizing. "And what happens if someone manages to ingest one?"
"They'd either ascend past their current SYNC limitations, triggering an immediate, powerful bio-sync and becoming truly powerful," the scientist said quietly, his voice strained, "or disintegrate entirely into raw Protocol energy. It's a high-risk gamble we don't take."
Hana smiled faintly, the expression thin and devoid of warmth. "Comforting odds for the planet's security, I suppose."
He laughed nervously. "We keep them sealed for a reason. Only the royal line can safely connect with their cores, and only under supervision."
She turned away, glancing back at the powerful, dangerous, black-void gems. "Let's hope no one else finds out just how dangerous they are."
The next morning, mission orders arrived. Squad 7 was to trace the Malice Mark signal to its point of re-entry, an abandoned, high-altitude relay station on Earth's equatorial belt.
As they geared up in the dropship, Chinami caught Hana's eye, her violet hair neat against her head. "You looked on edge last night, Jin. Like you saw a ghost. Something about those Core-Gems?"
Hana sealed her specialized Plasma Gauntlets over her wrists. "Just thinking, Arai."
"Well that's a dangerous hobby for a Striker," Chinami said, tilting her head. "You should let someone else do the thinking. Or, you know, just get laid. That usually clears the head."
Hana allowed herself the smallest of smiles, a barely perceptible curve of the lip. "You'd know, wouldn't you?"
Chinami blinked, momentarily surprised by the comeback, then laughed—a genuine, short burst of sound. "Maybe I do. Come find out later, Jin."
Hana simply turned to face the dropship hatch. The engines ignited with a roar. The storm clouds parted over the mountain, and the blinding light of dawn bled through.
Somewhere beyond the sky, Neptune watched, and the Malice Mark pulsed.