Kael moved toward the auxiliary control center.
The walls pulsed with an irregular rhythm — as if the station itself was breathing off-sync.
The fragment was active.
But it wasn't stable.
He engaged the atmospheric lock.
Temperature: -12°C.
Time distortion: 0.7 seconds of flux across local flow.
Something — or someone — was tampering with the timeline integrity.
---
A sound. Low. Metallic.
Kael pivoted with trained precision.
The figure stood eight meters ahead.
Unregistered. Not alive. Not fully present.
It resembled a human — or had, once.
Features blurred by temporal flicker. Skin rippling. Eyes fixed and misaligned.
A displaced entity.
The result of direct exposure to the fragment.
— Identification, — Kael said, though he knew there would be no answer.
The creature let out a hoarse sound — like coughing out memories.
Then it ran.
---
Kael fired.
Three shots. All passed through.
The body shimmered — then split into three simultaneous versions of itself.
Each moved at a different speed, testing which timeline could sustain its form.
Kael backed up.
Loaded temporal anchor rounds. Only two left.
He waited.
Tracked the pattern.
Fired at the exact moment one version converged.
Direct hit.
The entity froze mid-stride, caught in a deceleration field.
Its body didn't collapse from impact — but from within.
Too much time in conflict.
Too long without an anchor.
---
As it fell, a single distorted word left its mouth:
> "…Kael…"
He didn't respond.
Just watched as the fragment pulsed within its chest.
"S86-WHITE" — located.
But a new variable had entered the mission.
If the creature knew his name,
someone had tampered with the mission data.