Children of The Spheres

Chapter 28: Revelations

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, we've had food, water, and something resembling rest. Keira sits across from me, her eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and cautious relief. I'll admit I've been nervous about what I'd find in the exodus core's backup database, but there's no more time to push it off.

I move toward the center console, the blinking lights and faint hum of the core's systems pulling my focus. The hardline cable dangles from the side, waiting. I grab it, then plug it into the neuroport at the base of my skull. The world around me blurs as my neural matrix floods with data, syncing directly with me. I parse through the data quickly, breaking it down into digestible streams. Logs, security files, archived footage—all of it saved from the Morningstar. My mind sharpens as I comb through the archives, sifting through the remains of what once was our ship, our home.

I glance at Keira. "There's a large database here. All of the Morningstar's logs and security footage," I tell her.

She meets my gaze, a look of apprehension in her eyes. I know she's still processing everything that's happened.

I save the entire archive to a datachip in my neural interface and pull it out, handing it to Keira. She takes it silently, her fingers trembling slightly as she slots it, her optics flickering blue as she starts going through it herself.

I disconnect from the hardline, the cable retracting as I continue sorting through the logs, looking for anything unusual—anything that might explain what happened. I scan through the most recent videos, my mind racing as I search for answers. And then I find something.

A video from the bridge, time-stamped right after we arrived at the facility. The footage starts off normal enough—Lance is at the console, talking to some of the crew, his posture relaxed. But then the explosion happens. The camera catches it all, the blinding flash of energy ripping through the ship. I watch as Lance and the rest of the crew are vaporized in an instant, their bodies disintegrating into nothing. My chest tightens; I can't breathe. My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms as the weight of the loss crashes into me. Lance... gone, just like that. Feels like I just met the man. It's like the universe itself decided to erase him without warning. A hollow ache fills me, a mix of anger and helplessness swirling inside.

I move on, finding more videos of the crew being obliterated by the blast, but there's no footage of the Children. They must have been in our private wing, the only part of the ship that's not monitored. There's no comfort in that thought, though. The entire Morningstar was destroyed, so it doesn't matter where they were when it happened.

Then, something sticks out to me in one of the recordings—a figure on one of the hall cameras. I freeze, rewinding the footage to get a better look. My blood runs cold as I see it. A creature—or robot, I don't even know what to call it—standing three meters tall, its slim frame moving through the halls with a terrifying speed.

It's like nothing I've ever seen. Its gunmetal-gray armor is made up of rigid, triangular panels that shift in unnervingly precise movements, each angle sharpened to perfection. Its long limbs end in multi-jointed hands, fingers tapering into fine, lethal tips. The face... it's just a featureless mask, but the eyes—two stark, glowing white orbs set deep within angular sockets.

My pulse quickens as I watch it move. It doesn't walk, but glides, every motion controlled and fluid. It moves fast—shockingly fast for its size—but the cameras don't pick up any sound. No footsteps, no breathing. Nothing at all. Like it's a ghost, wrapped in steel.

Then, the creature stops in front of the reactor core. It raises its arm, and the armor on its wrist plates shifts. At first, I don't understand what I'm seeing, but then the energy starts to form—slow and crackling, a bright white light with streaks of gold, twisting and contorting. The energy seeps out like turbulent water, moving fluidly before accelerating into long, violent rays that pierce through the reactor and into the ship. The cameras flicker, struggling to capture the unnatural force of the attack, the energy warping the space around it as it crackles and flares.