CHAPTER 47: CH 47: EMERGENCY TASK - PART 3

Nova stood before the tube, watching the child whose presence seemed at once innocent and impossibly ancient.

The faint pulse of aether in the room ebbed and flowed around them.

He placed his hand back on the glass and asked calmly,

"Do you want to come with me?"

The child blinked slowly, as if it had to think through the weight of the question. A faint sigh left its lips before it spoke in a flat, lifeless tone.

"There’s no way for me to leave. Even if you freed this body... without the ship of life, I won’t last. My existence depends on the aether supply this place provides. Outside, I would fade."

Nova was quiet for a moment. Then, with a spark of curiosity, he leaned in.

"Hypothetically... if you could escape, and do anything you wanted—what would you do?"

That made the child pause.

The blankness in its eyes shifted. Faint emotion began to stir. Its eyes narrowed ever so slightly before something fierce—something raw—ignited inside them.

"I would burn this prison. Burn it down to ash. Erase it from the system. I would rip its roots from the soil of this world and erase every piece of it from existence."

It said.

Nova’s lips curved upward—not in joy, but in certainty. That was all he needed.

"Then that’s what we’ll do. From now on, you’re one of us. My crew. My responsibility. So, let’s start with step one—getting you the hell out of this tube."

He said, and stepped closer.

He pressed his hand against the glass again. This time, aether flowed from his palm, creeping into the containment walls like golden veins of light.

The glass began to hum, tremble, and then melt—dripping like candle wax under the pressure of Nova’s power.

The containment seal broke.

The child collapsed forward slightly, catching itself on wobbly legs. Liquid dripped off its thin body as it stood on the metal floor for the first time in... who knew how long.

Its form shimmered, light peeling off its skin like fog. The air rippled around it.

Nova crouched to meet its eyes.

"Let’s form a contract. Until you recover, I’ll provide the aether you need. And we’ll work on getting you a new ship soon."

He said.

The child said nothing at first. Then it slowly nodded.

"If you’re willing to bear it... I accept."

The air sparked with light as their aether signatures intertwined—an old contract, a deep one. It wasn’t a pact of servitude. It was a bond of mutual purpose.

Nova’s hand glowed with threads of white and green energy that wrapped around the child, encasing it in warmth.

The child’s body began to glow brighter, and then—suddenly—it dissolved into light.

A moment later, standing in front of Nova was no longer a child, but a small, white puppy-like creature.

Its eyes, though more innocent now, still held the depth of ancient rage.

"I will hibernate. Most of my power was siphoned off by General Urn. I need time to restore it. When the moment comes, I will awaken—and we will wipe this place from the map."

The puppy said telepathically.

"Good."

Nova muttered, scooping the small creature up into his arms.

Alarms still blared faintly through the halls, and Nyx’s voice flickered into his earpiece.

[Nova. You need to get out. I can’t hold back the surveillance protocols much longer. Exit routes are narrowing.]

Nova didn’t answer right away. He turned toward the door, adjusting the pup in his arms. It gave off a soft, sleeping sound—already conserving energy.

"Time to go."

Nova said finally, running toward the exit.

Behind him, the garden began to dim. Lights flickered. The system that had kept the child trapped for decades—or centuries—was finally crumbling.

And this was only the beginning.

"Nyx, it’s time. We no longer need to hide. Crack the firewall of this place by force. We will be burning this place to the ground."

______

Anna’s boots pounded against the metallic flooring as she sprinted through the labyrinthine hallways of the Galactic Navel facility, her breathing quick and shallow.

The shrill sounds of pursuit echoed behind her—metal scraping against metal, the heavy mechanical stomps of the security bots that had ignored Nova’s interference and locked onto her instead.

Her blaster was almost out of charge, but she didn’t stop. Every few steps, she turned and fired a shot behind her, staggering the ones that got too close.

Sparks flew, and one bot fell, but the others surged forward, undeterred.

She swore under her breath.

’Just a little further.’

Up ahead, the hallway split, and Anna could sense that she was close to the border of the secure zone where Nyx had promised the surveillance was lighter.

She just had to hold on a little longer—until she could regroup with Nova and disappear into the crowd. But before she could round the next corner, her instincts flared.

She felt it—another presence. Someone fast. Someone powerful. Not a bot.

Anna’s eyes widened as a figure turned the corner ahead.

Commander Zero.

He walked with casual grace, arms behind his back, and paused the moment he spotted her. In a split-second decision, Anna made the call.

Her stance shifted, and she let out a panicked yell.

"Help! Please—help me!"

She stumbled toward him, deliberately fumbling her steps, trying to look exhausted, frightened, disoriented.

"I got lost after the emergency drill alarm went off! I was trying to leave, I swear, but I must have taken the wrong turn—and now the bots think I’m a threat!"

She cried.

Her eyes widened with feigned terror as the heavy stomps of the bots echoed louder behind her.

"Please! They’re going to shoot!"

Commander Zero raised a single brow, his eyes narrowing slightly. The hallway lights gleamed off the crisp lines of his uniform.

His gaze dropped to her sidearm—still warm from use.

He took a slow step forward.

"You heard the emergency drill and decided to run around in a restricted sector with a drawn weapon?"

Anna flinched, caught off guard.

"I-I only shot because they were chasing me! I didn’t mean to come this far—I didn’t know!"

For a moment, he was silent. Then he reached out and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Anna’s relief was brief.

With a single motion, Commander Zero shoved her backward—toward the oncoming bots.

She stumbled, barely catching herself as her back hit the wall. The bots were already seconds away.

Her hand flew to her sidearm, but the charge was almost empty.

Zero stared at her coldly.

"Don’t lie to me."

Her breath hitched.

"I tolerate a lot of things in this army,"

He continued, voice clipped and low.

"Cowardice, ambition, even insubordination... but lying straight to my face?"

He stepped closer, expression unreadable.

"That’s what I hate the most."

The bots rounded the corner, scanning her with red glowing eyes, weapons locked.

Anna cursed inwardly, calculating her next move. There was no mercy in Commander Zero’s expression.

She realized, in that moment, that her bluff hadn’t just failed—it had backfired spectacularly.

Anna clenched her jaw, heart pounding.

She raised her hands slowly, pretending to surrender even as her eyes scanned for a way out.

"I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the whole truth."

She said quietly.

Commander Zero didn’t blink.

"That’s still a lie."

The security bots closed in, weapons humming.

Anna dropped low and rolled aside just as they fired, cursing herself.

’Fine. No more games.’

She dashed into the smoke, gun drawn once again.