Emma awoke to the low hum of emergency systems, their tones warped and uneven. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the bridge, twisting and doubling in ways that defied explanation. Her breath came shallow and ragged as her eyes adjusted to the unsettling dim light. Beyond the viewport, the universe itself seemed broken.
Stars swirled into chaotic spirals, their light stretched and fragmented as they orbited invisible centers of gravity. Planets shimmered and bent unnaturally, folding upon themselves as their trajectories intersected in impossible loops. The warped expanse bathed the bridge in perpetual twilight, casting the crew's faces in sharp relief.
"What… is this place?" Aisha whispered, her voice trembling as her eyes remained fixed on the fractal chaos ahead. The awe in her tone carried a weight of curiosity that contrasted with the pervasive fear.
Emma steadied herself against the console. The WoodDust swirling around her hands responded instinctively, its golden fractals weaving faster, mirroring the impossible geometry outside. "It's wrong," she said quietly, her voice low but resolute.
"The Black Hole Universe," the most human Seedkeeper said, its tone eerily calm as it stood near the anchor device. Its biomechanical form seemed to blend into the unnatural shadows. "The Schism's domain—a crucible of potential."
Chloe's voice broke through the oppressive silence, her frustration evident. "Commander, everything's failing. Gravity stabilizers are fluctuating wildly. Hull integrity is at fifty percent and dropping fast." She slammed her hand against the console in anger. "Every system is fighting me—I can't stabilize anything."
"The anchor is the only thing keeping us alive," Aisha explained, her hands hovering over the glowing device at the bridge's center. The pulses of blue light flickered erratically, fading as the strain on it grew. "But it's draining quickly. We've got maybe two hours before it collapses."
Emma scanned the bridge, assessing her crew. Markus stood rigid near tactical, his Bastion shield across his back, his posture tense and ready for action. Ethan guarded the Seedkeepers, his glowing energy blades humming faintly. Chloe wrestled with the failing systems, her frustration boiling over. Aisha monitored the anchor with focused precision, her awe tempered by urgency. Liam sat at his terminal, his sharp eyes darting across calculations as he fought to make sense of the data.
"Where's Lucas?" Emma asked abruptly, cutting through the tension.
The crew exchanged uneasy glances before Markus stepped forward. "He vanished during transition," he said grimly. "He was reaching for you, Commander—then he was gone."
Emma's heart clenched as an unbidden memory surfaced. Lucas laughing on the observation deck, sunlight reflecting off his face as he shared stories of his childhood. She had always admired his steadiness, his warmth—and now he was gone. The guilt hit her like a wave. Was it her leadership that had led him into this nightmare? Her decision to bring them here?
"Gray, initiate a shipwide scan," Emma ordered, forcing herself to focus. "Find him."
Gray's voice crackled unevenly, distorted across frequencies. "Scanning… but nothing makes sense. I'm seeing too many possibilities. Too many versions."
"What does that mean?" Liam asked sharply, his voice cutting through the haze.
Gray materialized in fragmented form, his image splitting into distorted versions of himself. One sneered coldly, another whispered in fear, and a third stared with unsettling detachment. "I see Lucas in engineering. Lucas on the observation deck. And Lucas who… isn't Lucas."
Emma turned sharply to the Seedkeepers, her voice like a blade. "Explain."
The mechanical Seedkeeper spoke calmly, its eerie stillness contrasting with the panic around it. "The Black Hole Universe exists in superposition. All possibilities converge. Your friend is caught between states."
"That's not acceptable," Emma said flatly. "I want him found."
"Commander," Chloe interrupted, urgency threading through her voice. "We've detected a structure ahead. It's enormous—fifteen million kilometers and closing."
The viewscreen shifted, revealing the structure—a fractal entity folding infinitely into itself. Its geometry repeated at every scale, pulsing with alien energy that seemed to press against their minds.
"It's beautiful," Aisha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The awe in her eyes shone as she studied the fractal patterns, her scientific curiosity overriding her fear. "It's terrifying—and alive."
Emma's gaze dropped to the WoodDust swirling around her hands. The particles aligned in perfect rhythm with the fractal patterns displayed on the screen. Something about their movement felt deliberate, purposeful.
A deep vibration passed through The Arbor—not sound, but something deeper, resonating in their bones. Emma froze as the voice filled their minds, bypassing all senses entirely:
WE SCULPT THE THREADS OF EXISTENCE. YOU ARE ENTANGLED IN THEM.
The crew staggered under the weight of the voice's presence. Markus gritted his teeth, gripping the edge of his station to steady himself. Chloe let out a sharp breath, her frustration replaced by fear. Aisha's awe deepened, her hands trembling as she held her scanner toward the screen.
Emma squared her shoulders, her voice firm. "Why did you bring us here?"
TO JUDGE. TO HARVEST. TO TRANSFORM.
Emma felt the WoodDust weave faster around her hands, responding like it was alive. Her pulse quickened. "It's reacting to me," she said through gritted teeth. "Why?"
SEEDS OF PURPOSE. ANCIENT DESIGN. YOU ARE CHOSEN.
The room fell silent except for the hum of the anchor, its pulses faltering. Emma's gaze hardened. "We weren't chosen—we chose this. We choose to be here."
CHOICE IS AN ILLUSION. THE THREADS WERE WOVEN LONG BEFORE YOU WERE BORN.
The ship shuddered violently as the fluid black mass of the Leviathan reappeared on the screen, larger and darker than before. Faces pressed against its surface, mouths frozen in silent screams. Then it twisted and solidified into Lucas's face.
"Commander," Lucas's voice came through the comms, desperate and trembling. "I'm trapped in engineering. You need to help me."
Emma hesitated, the sting of guilt cutting deeper. His voice—it was unmistakably Lucas. But could she trust it?
Markus stepped forward, his voice resolute. "Permission to investigate."
Emma struggled with the decision before nodding. "Constant communication. Any sign of trouble, retreat immediately."
"I'll go too," Ethan offered quietly, his energy blades humming softly.
Emma watched them leave, her chest tight as the fractal construct loomed closer, its pulse matching the rhythm of the WoodDust. The Schism had set its threads in motion—but could they unravel them in time?