The sky above Virex-9 had always felt distant.
Not just physically distant—but unreachable. Like it belonged to another reality entirely. Something miners stared at only during shift changes, when exhaustion made them slow enough to look up.
No one ever imagined the sky looking back.
Until now.
Kael couldn't stop thinking about the Dominion symbol.
It burned behind his eyes long after the screen in the ration hall had gone dark. That cold geometric insignia. Clean. Perfect. Unfeeling.
Watching.
The colony tried to return to routine again. It always did. Shifts rotated. Sirens blared. Conveyor belts screamed across metal rails like nothing had changed.
But something had.
You could feel it in the way people spoke softer.
In the way supervisors checked their consoles more often.
In the way laughter died faster than usual.
Fear had a frequency.
And Virex-9 was humming with it.
Kael walked the outer perimeter alone, boots crunching against frost-hardened dust. The artificial night cycle had begun again, plunging the colony into deep violet shadows broken only by floodlights and tower beacons.
He needed distance.
From the noise.
From the people.
From the feeling growing inside him.
But mostly—
From the whisper.
It hadn't spoken again since the ration hall.
Not clearly.
Yet its presence lingered like gravity.
Always there.
Always pulling.
He stopped near the edge of the perimeter fence, staring out at the wasteland beyond. Jagged rock formations stretched into darkness like the ribs of something long dead. Wind dragged dust across the ground in thin, restless sheets.
Empty.
Silent.
Safe.
Or at least, safer than being inside.
"You shouldn't be out here alone."
Kael stiffened.
He turned to see Vera stepping out of the shadows near a support tower, arms folded tightly against the cold.
"You're following me now?" he asked weakly.
She shook her head. "You're predictable."
He couldn't argue with that.
They stood side by side in silence, facing the endless dark beyond the colony walls.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Vera asked quietly, "You feel it too, don't you?"
Kael didn't pretend not to understand.
"Yeah," he said.
"Stronger?"
He hesitated.
"…Closer."
She exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the sky.
Above them, the stars burned faint and cold, scattered across the thin atmosphere like distant embers. Beautiful in a lifeless way.
Kael stared at them.
And for the first time—
They didn't feel distant anymore.
They felt near.
Too near.
Like a ceiling lowering inch by inch.
"You ever wonder," he said quietly, "if we're wrong about what's up there?"
Vera frowned slightly. "Wrong how?"
He struggled to explain it.
All his life, space had been described as empty. Silent. Dead between points of light. Just distance and vacuum.
But after the silence…
After the whisper…
After feeling something look back at him—
Empty didn't make sense anymore.
"What if it's not empty?" he said finally. "What if it's just… quiet?"
The words hung in the air between them.
Vera didn't answer immediately.
Because deep down, she understood what he was really asking.
Not about space.
About presence.
Before she could respond, a sharp tone sliced through the night.
Both of them froze.
A high-frequency hum rolled across the colony, so faint it was almost below hearing—but strong enough to vibrate through bone.
Kael's blood ran cold instantly.
He felt it.
Not with his ears.
With the same place the whisper lived.
The sky.
Something was in the sky.
"Do you hear that?" Vera asked, voice tight.
Kael nodded slowly, unable to speak.
The hum deepened.
Not louder.
Wider.
Like a pressure expanding across the heavens.
Then the stars flickered.
Just once.
So quickly it might have been imagination.
But Kael saw it.
And this time—
He wasn't the only one.
All across the colony, people began looking up.
Confused.
Uneasy.
Aware.
The whisper inside him stirred violently.
Not calm this time.
Not patient.
Alert.
A single thought slammed into his mind like a falling star.
They are here.
Kael gasped, staggering back a step.
"What?" Vera asked, grabbing his arm. "What is it?"
He could barely breathe.
The sky suddenly felt enormous and crushing all at once.
"They're not watching anymore," he said hoarsely.
Vera's grip tightened. "Who?"
Kael stared upward, terror and awe colliding inside his chest.
"They're coming."
Above them, unseen beyond the thin veil of atmosphere, something vast shifted silently in the dark.
Not falling.
Not descending.
Arriving.
And for the first time in the history of Virex-9—
The sky no longer felt empty.
It felt occupied.