The space beyond the station shuddered as if reality itself was resisting what was trying to come through. From the tear in the void, strands of dark energy spiraled out like tendrils, writhing with intelligence—searching.
Nam and Lan clung to a control panel as the hull groaned, sensors flickering in and out.
"Lan, patch us into the central node. We need full control—now," Nam ordered.
Lan's fingers flew across the console. "Trying. But it's like the station doesn't recognize us anymore. It's responding to something else—some old protocol."
Nam's mind raced. The glyphs. The energy. The vision of the Watchers. Something had changed the rules.
Suddenly, his HUD blinked—lines of code began to stream across the display in a language he didn't recognize… and yet, somehow, he understood.
Initiating Reclamation Sequence.
Welcome, Reclaimer.
"What the hell…" Nam whispered.
Lan glanced over. "What does it say?"
"It's… calling me the Reclaimer," Nam said slowly, "and it's asking me to activate the final sequence."
Lan hesitated. "Are you sure we should?"
"No," Nam admitted, "but we've already crossed the line."
He reached out, hand trembling, and confirmed the prompt.
The station pulsed—alive.
Light cascaded through the corridors as the structure reconfigured itself. Massive conduits extended from the black sphere, attaching to ports around the chamber like a nervous system reconnecting.
Then, a projection materialized in the center: a holographic being clad in shimmering fractal armor, eyes like collapsing stars.
"You are late," it said. "The cycle was broken. Restoration is overdue."
Nam stepped forward. "Who are you?"
"I am the Curator of Memory. The Sentinel of the Last Vault. I await the Reclaimer to unlock the Archive and awaken the Guardian Protocols."
Lan looked uneasy. "Guardian? As in… weapons?"
"As in warnings," the Curator replied. "They are the last defenses. But one has already awakened. The Harbinger. If not stopped, it will consume this sector."
Nam's throat tightened. "You mean the thing that's coming through the rift?"
"Yes. A fragment of what once was," the Curator said. "Now, you must decide: reclaim… or let it all burn."
Behind them, the black rift pulsed again—and something larger began to stir.
Nam met Lan's eyes. "We're out of time."