Page 8 of Nebula Hearts
My hand moves without conscious decision. Reaches toward the central point. I try to stop, try to pull back, but the compulsion is too strong.
My fingers hover centimeters above the surface. This is a mistake. I know this is a mistake.
But I can’t stop.
The interface responds.
The metal brightens. Faint at first, then stronger. Violet light spreads through the inlaid patterns like liquid flowing through channels.
Contact.
My fingertips touch the central point.
Pain rips through me.
I try to pull my hand back but my muscles won’t respond. Try to step away but my legs lock. The interface holds me, and lightpours through the contact point. Violet light blazing so bright I can see it through my closed eyelids.
My training kicks in automatically, emotional suppression protocols, mental filtering techniques, everything I’ve learned about controlling empathic overflow. But this isn’t empathic connection. This is something else. Something my training never prepared me for.
The facility isn’t dormant. Not any more.
And it recognizes Zephyrian biology. Reaching for it. Interfacing with systems I haven’t used since childhood, before the Suppression training took hold. Before I learned to wall off the parts of myself that felt too much, connected too deeply, couldn’t maintain proper boundaries.
Those walls crack.
Then shatter.
“Aris,” I try to say her name. Can’t form the word properly. My voice comes out wrong. Distorted.
Need to warn her. Need to tell her something’s wrong. Need to...
ARIS
I’m almost at the entrance when I realize Tynrax still isn’t with me.
“Commander?” I turn, sweeping my light back down the corridor. Empty. Just worked stone and geometric patterns and no tall Zephyrian engineer. “Tynrax?”
Nothing.
He said he’d only be a moment. That was at least five minutes ago. Maybe longer. I was talking to myself about crystallization patterns and not paying attention to whether he’d caught up.
Worry prickles along my spine. This is an ancient facility. Unknown stability. Potential hazards we haven’t identified yet. And he’s somewhere in here alone.
“Okay, going back.” I say it out loud because talking helps me think. “He probably just got absorbed in examining something. Engineers and shiny old tech. Some things are universal.”
I jog back down the corridor, checking side passages. Most of them are just shallow alcoves. Structural features, not actual rooms. But then I find one that goes deeper. A narrow opening I didn’t notice on our way to the main chamber.
Violet light blazes from inside. Bright. Too bright. And the hum intensifies until it becomes a low thrum against my ribs.
“Tynrax?” I run toward the light. “Commander, are you...”
The side passage opens into a small chamber. The walls glow violet, patterns lighting up in cascading sequences. In the center, there’s a pedestal with some kind of interface panel. And on the floor beside it, scorch marks. Dark streaks across the stone like something burned hot and fast.
No Tynrax.
“Fusion hell.” My pulse quickens. “Where are you?”
The hum grows louder. The walls brighten further, and I watched the patterns spread. Activating. Like the facility is waking up in response to...
