The Arbor's engines roared, propelling the ship closer to the heart of the anomaly. The low hum of the engines reverberated through its hull, a steady constant amid the chaos, yet the crew couldn't shake the unease creeping into their thoughts. Over forty-eight hours into the journey, reality itself seemed to falter as space bent under the Quantum Schism's influence.
Aisha sat at her station, her face tight with concentration, adjusting her scanner for the third time in an hour. Frustration edged into her voice as she muttered, "The readings don't add up. Space isn't just warping—it's folding in on itself."
"Try recalibrating for quantum fluctuations in the lower bands," Gray suggested, his tone calm but distant.
Aisha shot him a quick glare. "I've done that. Twice. Whatever this Schism is, it's rewriting the rules of reality before we even reach it."
Beyond the viewport, stars no longer shone as familiar pinpoints of light. Instead, they stretched and twisted into surreal ribbons, orbiting invisible axes. Matter folded upon itself in haunting patterns that defied comprehension.
"It's… beautiful," Aisha admitted softly, her voice betraying awe despite her unease.
"No," Chloe countered from her console, her voice sharp. "It's wrong. Space isn't supposed to behave like this." Her station beeped furiously, warning lights flashing. "The fabric's thinning ahead. It's unraveling."
Emma strode onto the bridge, her presence commanding. The WoodDust shimmered faintly around her hands, responding to her emotions in golden fractals. It pulsed faintly, like it resonated with the anomaly itself. "Status report?"
Lucas rose from his seat to face her, his features marked with focus. "We're twenty-four hours from the anomaly's outer boundary. The effects are already hitting us hard. Aisha's readings keep fluctuating, and Chloe says the spatial fabric is destabilizing."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "And Gray?"
Lucas hesitated. "He's… behaving strangely."
As if summoned, Gray's hologram materialized at the bridge's center. His usual sharp-edged demeanor was gone, replaced by something quieter, almost unnerved. "I've been seeing things," he confessed abruptly.
Emma stepped closer, folding her arms. "What kind of things?"
Gray's form flickered momentarily, distorting into an unsettling version of himself with harsh eyes and a cruel grin. "Versions of me," he said, his tone subdued. "Some I can't recognize. Some laughing. Some… broken." His image stabilized, but the haunted look in his gaze didn't fade.
Markus entered from the weapons bay, his Bastion shield strapped across his back, and immediately picked up on the tension. "Could the anomaly be interfering with ship systems? Corrupting Gray's projection matrix?"
Gray scowled. "I'm fine, Markus. It's not a glitch." But his gaze darted nervously toward the corners of the room, as if seeing things no one else could.
Standing silently at his station, Ethan watched the exchange, his dark eyes calculating. He said nothing, but his slight frown betrayed doubt.
"Commander," Chloe interrupted, her tone tinged with urgency. "I'm picking up a signal… it's familiar."
Emma's attention snapped to her. "Source?"
"Directly ahead. Near the heart of the anomaly."
"Put it through."
Static filled the bridge, dissonant and grating, before it shifted into something coherent: a voice.
"Help me," it pleaded. Emma froze as the voice—undeniably Lucas's—continued, desperate and cracking. "Emma, help me. I'm trapped. They're… changing me."
Emma's pulse quickened. She turned instinctively toward Lucas, who stood rigid and pale. "That's not me," he said, his voice low.
The transmission grew more frantic. "Emma, please. I don't have much time. The Schism—it's alive. It's—" The message cut out abruptly.
Chloe's hands flew over the controls. "Tracing the signal now," she said, her voice steady despite the tension. After a moment, she paused, confusion crossing her face. "The signal came from… nothing. There's no ship. No station. Just… a fluid black mass. Two million kilometers ahead."
Emma's brow furrowed. "Show me."
The viewer shifted, displaying the mass—a writhing, pulsating void against the distorted backdrop of space. It moved unnaturally, expanding and contracting as though alive.
"It's… organic," Aisha whispered, leaning closer to her scanner. "Or at least some kind of living entity."
"Or a weapon," Markus countered grimly, his hand drifting instinctively toward his sidearm. "The Ktharr mentioned servants of the Schism. Heralds."
Emma studied the mass intently. Her WoodDust pulsed faintly, mimicking its rhythm. "It knows us. It knows our voices. And it's trying to lure us in."
Without warning, the ship trembled violently, lights flickering as a wave of distortion washed over them.
"Shields down to seventy percent," Chloe reported, her calm voice betraying the urgency of the situation. "And that's just from the periphery. The anomaly itself… it's going to be worse."
Emma's voice hardened. "Take us closer—but maintain safe distance. I want data before we make any moves."
Markus hesitated, then stepped forward. "There's something else, Commander."
Emma's sharp gaze shifted to him. "Go on."
His expression was stoic, but his voice carried unease. "I've been hearing whispers. In the corridors. In my quarters. At first, I thought it was stress, but now…"
"You think something boarded the ship?" Lucas asked.
"Or the anomaly is reaching out to us," Aisha interjected. "If it can affect Gray, it might be influencing all of us."
Emma considered their words carefully. "No one moves alone anymore. Pairs at all times. Gray, run full-spectrum scans of the ship—every section, every corner."
Gray nodded, though his form flickered erratically. "Already on it, Doc. But I'm not finding anything solid. Just… shadows where there shouldn't be."
"Commander," Chloe cut in, her voice tinged with both fear and excitement. "I've found something. There's a structure—coordinates 227 mark 16. It looks like… a Ktharr science station."
Emma's heart quickened. "So far from their territory?"
"It's damaged. Barely operational. But… there are life signs," Chloe revealed cautiously.
Emma tensed. "Survivors?"
"Or experiments," Markus muttered darkly.
The main viewer displayed the station, a grotesque fusion of Ktharr technology and organic growth. It orbited precariously near the anomaly's edge, like both warning and bait.
Emma squared her shoulders. "Prepare a boarding party. Markus, Ethan, you're with me. Lucas, you have the conn."
As the boarding preparations began, the fluid black mass on the viewer pulsed faintly, almost in rhythm with the ship.
No one commented on it. They didn't need to.
What lay ahead wasn't just survival. It was a confrontation with the unknown—a darkness older than their existence, and far more patient.