The shard weighed heavier in Sam's pocket than it had any right to. He swore he could feel it pulse faintly against his side, like the faint ticking of a clock, or a heartbeat in the dark.
The ruined station grew smaller in the distance as his ship drifted away, but the atmosphere in the cockpit felt as stifling as if the walls were closing in. He kept catching glimpses of his reflection in the cockpit glass—distorted and fractured, like the version of himself he'd seen in the shard.
He told himself it was nothing. Just his mind playing tricks on him after everything with the Shadow. Yet, the nagging unease persisted.
The ship's autopilot hummed, plotting a course back toward Lumen's rendezvous point—a glittering nexus of stars on the other side of the system. Sam hoped the journey would be uneventful, but deep down, he knew better.
Nothing in space stayed quiet for long.
Hours drifted by in eerie silence. Sam leaned back in his seat, the cockpit dim except for the soft glow of the console. His eyes flickered toward the pocket where the shard rested.
Then, without warning, the ship's dashboard went dark, the hum of the engines sputtering out in a sudden death rattle.
Sam shot upright, flipping switches and slamming his hands against the controls. "No, no, no—don't do this now!"
The emergency systems kicked in, casting everything in a dull red glow. A sharp, mechanical beep echoed through the cockpit, and Sam's heart dropped.
The sensors had detected something. Something close.
He checked the scanners. At first, he thought it was another storm—but storms didn't move this fast. Whatever it was, it was huge and gaining on him.
Just as he was about to engage the thrusters manually, the comm system crackled to life with static. A voice—low, distorted, and all too familiar—slithered through the speakers.
"You shouldn't have taken the shard, Sam."
His blood ran cold. "Shadow?"
"Not just a shadow anymore." The voice chuckled, a sound like grinding glass. "You let me in when you took that piece of darkness with you. Now we're tied, you and I."
Sam's hands shook on the controls. He knew now—carrying the shard had been a mistake. A trap. The Shadow had tricked him into taking it, knowing it would follow him like a curse.
The cockpit dimmed further, the darkness stretching long, jagged shapes across the walls. Sam's own shadow twisted on the floor, moving independently of him—flickering, growing longer, as if trying to break free.
"You can't escape," the voice whispered. "You brought me with you."
Sam gritted his teeth. "If you think I'll just roll over, you don't know me."
The Shadow's laughter echoed through the ship. "Maybe. Or maybe you don't know yourself."
Suddenly, the ship shuddered violently, as if something massive had latched onto it. The lights flickered, and the temperature plummeted. The hull groaned under the weight of an invisible force.
Sam's eyes darted to the viewport. And that's when he saw it—something massive, emerging from the void.
It wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. A leviathan of shifting blackness, its surface shimmering with fragments of starlight, as if it had swallowed entire galaxies and left only the scraps behind. Its eyes—bright pinpricks of light—scanned the ship with slow, deliberate intent.
Sam's heart slammed against his chest. The creature didn't just dwell in the darkness; it was the darkness.
The comm system buzzed again. This time, it wasn't the Shadow's voice that came through—but Nova's.
"Sam! Do you copy? I see your ship—hang on, I'm coming!"
Sam's pulse spiked. "Nova?! How did you—?"
"No time to explain!" Nova's voice was sharp and urgent. "Just listen to me—you can't fight that thing. You've got to outthink it. And fast."
The leviathan loomed closer, its presence suffocating. A web of shadowy tendrils unfurled from its surface, inching toward Sam's ship.
Sam's mind raced. "What does it want?"
Nova's voice crackled through the comm. "It feeds on what's hidden—the doubts, the fears we try to bury. That shard you've got? It's a beacon, calling it to you."
Sam cursed under his breath. "If I toss the shard, will it leave?"
"Maybe. But it's already tasted your fear. It'll keep hunting you unless…" Nova hesitated. "Unless you face it. All of it."
Sam felt the weight of those words settle over him like a suffocating blanket. Facing his own darkness wasn't something he could do with blasters or clever maneuvers.
He had to surrender to it.
The leviathan's tendrils scraped along the hull, making the ship groan under the pressure. Time was running out.
"Nova," Sam whispered, his voice tight. "If I don't make it out—"
"Don't say it," Nova interrupted. "You'll make it. Just… trust yourself."
Sam's hands trembled on the controls. For a brief, flickering moment, he considered running—pushing the ship to its limits and leaving the leviathan behind. But deep down, he knew the truth.
He couldn't run from himself. Not anymore.
With a deep breath, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the shard. It felt cold and heavy in his hand, pulsing faintly with a dark energy that seemed to resonate with the creature outside.
The ship shook violently, and alarms blared, warning of structural failure. Sam gripped the shard tighter, feeling its jagged edges dig into his palm.
Then, without giving himself time to hesitate, he closed his eyes.
And he let go.
Not just of the shard, but of the fear and doubt that had followed him since the Shadow first appeared. He let the darkness wash over him—not fighting it, not running from it, but accepting it.
The moment he surrendered, the shard dissolved into dust, scattering into the void.
The leviathan outside paused, its tendrils retracting slightly, as if it had sensed the shift within Sam. The oppressive weight lifted, and the creature's form began to unravel, dissipating into the same starlit fragments that had once composed it.
Sam opened his eyes, breathing heavily. The cockpit lights flickered back to life, and the ship's systems hummed steadily beneath his hands.
Nova's voice crackled through the comm, filled with a mix of relief and awe. "You did it, Sam. You faced it."
Sam exhaled, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I guess I did."
As the remnants of the leviathan scattered into the night, Sam set a course for Lumen.
This journey was far from over.
But for the first time in a long while, the darkness didn't feel quite so heavy.