Page 58 of Sy

Behind him, the guard cleared his throat. “Commander? Engineering was quite specific. If you hear any sustained cracking sounds, or if the tremors increase in frequency?—”

“Evacuate immediately. Yes, yes, I know the protocols.”

Kraath didn’t turn around. His attention had already shifted to what lay ahead, to the faint alien glow that marked the beginning of something his first incarnation had only theorized about. “Return to your post. I won’t be long.”

He took another step forward and another. A deep rumble shook the cavern, stronger than before. His hand shot out to steady himself against cool, rough stone—natural rock. Not what awaited him ahead. Small cascades of debris rained down from above, creating a sound like falling rain.

The guard called out something, but he was already moving deeper, his steps quick and purposeful. The instability was a concern, yes, but a distant one compared to what waited ahead. He had waited too long, spent too many lives pursuing understanding, to let a little geological instability stop him now.

His heart beat faster with each step, anticipation and trepidation warring in his chest. Soon, he would have answers. Soon, he would understand what his first incarnation had only glimpsed in fragments and pieces.

Whether he would like those answers… well, that was another question entirely.

The alien technology consumed the entire wall of the cavern. Kraath stopped dead, his breath catching. In the past he’d had to work with mere fragments—a panel here, a component there. Precious pieces small enough to fit in his palm.

But this… was beyond anything he’d imagined. The wall stretched up into darkness, seamlessly melded with natural rock as if the mountain had grown around it. Or as if something massive had been buried here, swallowed by stone and time.

“Legion,” he murmured, the word echoing. His first incarnation’s memories stirred, fragmented but insistent. Hours spent studying similar components under laboratory conditions, enduring mockery from his fellow princes. The odd one out, they’d called him. The bookworm prince who cared more for ancient history and genetic theory than military glory.

His fingers brushed the smooth surface, tracing patterns that felt familiar yet alien. The technology thrummed with latent energy, a sensation he knew from his first incarnation’s work butmagnified a hundredfold. Back then, he’d been obsessed with understanding not just Latharian history but the mysteries of every species that had left traces in their corner of space.

And then he’d used that knowledge to fight the worst threat his people had ever known.

And his people had used his techniques for countless generations, adapting themselves for every new environment they faced and making themselves into the ultimate warriors.

He rubbed a hand over his face, his jaw tight. How had he been to know they’d somehow manage to draanth it up? He’d been so careful with his initial processes, so precise with his genetic manipulations. “Idiots should have been more careful,” he murmured to himself. “Should have tested more, checked for genetic drift before it became too widespread.”

But they hadn’t. And now the legion rode in Lathar blood, a legacy he’d never meant to leave.

He moved forward and a section of panels caught his attention, their design nigglingly familiar. His first incarnation had studied something similar—a fragment barely larger than his thumb. He’d spent weeks analyzing it, documenting every curve and connection. The other princes had laughed then, called his obsession with alien artifacts a waste of time.

But they hadn’t laughed when the first of the new enemy warships appeared.

They hadn’t laughed when their conventional weapons proved useless.

They hadn’t laughed when they’d come to him, desperate for a solution.

A faint sound caught his attention—the soft hum of technology coming to life. Panic shot through him, and he jerked his hand away. The panels were activating, their surface beginning to glow with an inner light. His heart hammered against his ribs. No. It couldn’t be responding to him. He testedhimself weekly, obsessively, for any trace of legion DNA. He couldn’t be?—

Realization hit as he sensed movement behind him. The panels weren’t responding to him at all.

“I wondered how long it would take you,” he said, his voice steady despite the relief flooding through him.

He turned, already knowing what he would see.

The youngling, Tor, stood in the shadows behind him. His bearing had changed, become something other than human. Something ancient and alien gazed out through his eyes.

The legion had arrived.

“Welcome back, First One.”

The voice that emerged from Tor’s throat wasn’t the youngling’s. It resonated with harmonics that shouldn’t have been possible from any biological form. The glow from the panels cast strange shadows across his features, turning the familiar Izaean appearance into an unsettling mask.

Kraath’s muscles tensed. Every line of Tor’s altered body spoke of contained power, of something vast compressed into physical form. The legion presence rolled off him in waves, prickling against Kraath’s skin.

“How long?” Kraath demanded in a harsh voice. “How long have you been aware?”

Tor’s head tilted at an angle that looked painful, the movement too smooth to be natural. The legion gazed out through his eyes, turning them into wells of ancient knowledge.

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