The Heart of Lumen burned brightly in the sky like a second moon, filling the plaza with a warmth that spread beyond the town's boundaries. But for Sam, Lila, Kian, and Nova, their journey was far from over. Lumen had guided them to confront their fears, but now they stood at the edge of a new mystery—one hidden deep within the uncharted realms of space.
"There's more out there," Lumen had told them just before slipping back into the light. "Beyond this world lie places where shadows gather—and others where light is born. You'll need to find them if you wish to protect this galaxy."
Those words haunted Sam as the group gathered inside the Star Chaser, a sleek spaceship forged from stardust and dreamstone—materials that shimmered and shifted with each pulse of the Heart of Lumen.
"We can't wait for the shadows to come to us again," Kian declared, his eyes fierce. "If there are places where light is born, we need to find them first."
"And places where shadows gather..." Nova trailed off, folding her arms tightly. "We'll have to go there, too, won't we?"
Lila sat cross-legged on the bridge, the navigation tablet glowing in her hands. "Where do we even start? Space isn't exactly a small backyard."
Sam glanced out through the wide observation window, where the night sky stretched endlessly before them, a sea of stars waiting to be explored. He knew this wasn't just about discovery—it was about understanding. Each of them had their own ghosts, their own questions. And somewhere, in the vastness of space, the answers awaited.
Setting a Course
Lila's hands danced across the control panel, accessing the ship's database. "There's something here called the Celestial Atlas—an ancient map supposedly tracking the oldest star systems, cosmic anomalies, and mythic places scattered across the galaxy."
"Sounds like exactly what we need," Kian said, his excitement growing.
"But the Atlas isn't easy to read," Lila continued, biting her lip. "It changes. It reacts to the heart and intentions of the traveler. No two people see the same path."
"So it's a map, but only if the map likes you?" Sam asked with a raised brow.
"Basically," Lila replied with a shrug. "And we're going to have to earn its trust."
Nova let out a dry laugh. "Fantastic. An emotional star map. Just what we need."
The Star Chaser's engines hummed to life, threads of stardust winding through the control panels. The ship itself seemed alive, eager to leap into the unknown.
"Okay," Lila murmured. "Let's start simple. We'll follow the brightest constellation nearby—the Path of Eos. If the legends are right, it leads to the Cradle of Suns—a place where dying stars are reborn."
"Rebirth sounds good," Sam said with a nod. "Let's go find some hope."
Into the Unknown
The ship soared through the fabric of space, weaving between nebulae that glimmered like oil on water. Trails of light followed in their wake, and the stars seemed to hum as if welcoming their journey.
Hours bled into days—or what felt like days. Space had no clocks, and the absence of time pressed down on them in strange ways.
Sam found Nova staring out the observation deck late one "night," her expression distant. "Can't sleep?" he asked, leaning against the frame of the window.
"I don't really do 'sleep' well," Nova muttered. "Too many memories show up when I close my eyes."
Sam gave her a sympathetic look. "What kind of memories?"
Nova hesitated, fingers tracing invisible patterns along the glass. "Bad ones. Times when I was drifting, alone. Before I found all of you."
He nodded, unsure of what to say. "You're not drifting anymore."
"For now," Nova whispered, as if the words were too fragile to say aloud.
They stood in silence for a while, the stars stretching endlessly before them.
The Cradle of Suns
"Brace yourselves!" Lila called from the bridge, her voice sharp with urgency.
The Star Chaser had reached the edge of a colossal, swirling cloud—a massive, glowing nebula pulsing with energy. Tendrils of cosmic light danced through the void, and deep within, a colossal sphere of gold and crimson glimmered like a beating heart.
"The Cradle of Suns," Lila whispered.
It was beautiful—and terrifying. Stars drifted in varying stages of life. Some were newborn, casting brilliant light across the dark. Others were fading, their cores fractured, their light dimming as they prepared to collapse into black holes.
"We've got company," Kian warned from the weapons console. "Something's moving in the nebula."
They saw it then—Specters, ghostly beings formed from decaying starlight. They drifted between the suns, their forms flickering like forgotten memories.
"They feed on dying stars," Lila explained quietly. "They take what's left of their light and use it to exist."
"And what happens if they decide we look tasty?" Nova asked, her hand resting on the hilt of her plasma dagger.
"Let's not find out," Sam replied, gripping the ship's controls. "We need to reach the core—where the light is strongest. It might be the only thing that can drive them back."
A Race Against Time
The Specters moved fast, gliding through the nebula like shadows in water. Sam pushed the ship's engines to their limits, weaving between collapsing stars and bursts of radiation.
"We're not going to make it!" Kian shouted, firing energy pulses at the pursuing creatures.
"Yes, we will," Sam muttered, his hands steady on the controls. "Lila, plot the course!"
Lila's fingers danced over the console. "Almost there… just a few more seconds…"
Nova stood by the weapons system, firing bolts of radiant energy at the Specters. "They're not slowing down! We need a miracle!"
Just as the Specters closed in, the Star Chaser broke through the outer ring of the nebula and into the heart of the Cradle of Suns. A brilliant burst of light erupted from the core, scattering the Specters like ashes in the wind.
For a moment, everything was silent.
"We made it," Kian whispered, disbelief in his voice.
The Voice in the Light
As the crew stood in awe, a low hum filled the ship. The light at the heart of the nebula began to shift, coalescing into a shape—an ancient, cosmic being formed from stardust and fire.
"Who are you?" Sam whispered, stepping forward.
The being's voice echoed like the sound of distant stars. "I am the Keeper of the Suns. You have come seeking light, but light alone will not protect you."
"Then what will?" Nova asked cautiously.
The Keeper's eyes burned with ancient wisdom. "Balance. Every light casts a shadow. If you wish to protect your world, you must not only seek the brightest places but also learn to walk through the darkest."
Sam exchanged glances with his crew. "How do we do that?"
The Keeper smiled, and the core of the Cradle pulsed in response. "That is a journey only you can decide. But remember this—sometimes, the brightest light is found at the end of the darkest path."
A New Mission
As the Star Chaser left the Cradle of Suns behind, the crew sat in silence, each lost in thought. The journey ahead was no longer just about finding places of light. They would need to explore the shadows, too—and not just the ones out in space.
Sam looked at his friends—Nova, Lila, Kian—and felt something shift inside him. They weren't just travelers anymore. They were seekers, searching for truths hidden in the farthest reaches of the galaxy—and within themselves.
And somewhere, in the distance, the shadows stirred.
Sam's POV
The stars blurred outside the window, streaking into ribbons of light as the Star Chaser drifted through space. Sam rested his hands on the controls, but his mind was far from the present. The hum of the ship felt distant, like white noise at the edge of a dream.
The conversation with the Keeper of the Suns clung to him like smoke. Every light casts a shadow. If you wish to protect your world, you must not only seek the brightest places but also learn to walk through the darkest.
He hadn't expected the answers to be so... unsettling. For a brief moment, standing before the being of light, he'd felt the familiar thrill of hope. But hope, it seemed, was more complicated than he thought. It wasn't just about light—it was about accepting the dark.
And the dark scared him.
The Shadows Within
Sam exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake the heaviness in his chest. He hated feeling uncertain—like the ground beneath his feet was crumbling away. Piloting a spaceship through collapsing stars was one thing, but navigating his own mind? That was a whole other beast.
"Balance," he muttered under his breath. "Easy for an ancient being to say."
Sam caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass—his blue eyes looked tired, older than they should. He'd carried so much weight for so long: the fear of failure, the pressure to protect his friends, the nagging doubt that no matter how hard he tried, it might not be enough.
What if he couldn't find the balance the Keeper talked about? What if the shadows within him—his doubts, his fears—were too strong to control?
His hands tightened around the flight controls until his knuckles turned white. He glanced over his shoulder at the others. Lila was scrolling through maps on her tablet, chewing on her lip like she always did when she was deep in thought. Kian sat at the weapons console, running diagnostics, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a rare stillness. And Nova leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, her gaze distant, as if she was already halfway to another galaxy.
They looked as lost as he felt. But none of them said it out loud. Maybe that was the problem—none of them ever said anything out loud.
Quiet Conversations in the Dark
Nova's reflection shifted in the window. She must have sensed him watching because she turned her head slightly, catching his eye.
"Thinking too hard again?" she asked, raising a brow.
Sam gave a half-smile. "Always."
She crossed the room and slid into the seat beside him. She didn't say anything for a while, just sat there, staring out into the expanse of space. Sam liked that about her—Nova didn't fill silence just to make noise.
"You believe any of what that Keeper said?" she asked finally, her voice low.
Sam considered it for a moment. "I don't know. It sounds... right, I guess. But it also feels impossible."
"Yeah," Nova murmured. "Light and shadow, all that poetic crap. Easy to say when you're an immortal glowing god. Harder when you're... us."
Sam let out a soft laugh. "Pretty much."
He glanced at her, wondering if she felt the same knot in her chest that he did. What if I can't keep everyone safe? What if I lose someone out here? But the words caught in his throat. He didn't know how to say it without sounding weak.
Nova tapped her fingers on the armrest, a rhythm that matched the hum of the ship. "I used to think being alone made me stronger. That if I didn't care too much about anyone, nothing could hurt me."
Sam looked at her, surprised by the sudden openness. Nova rarely talked about her past.
"But now..." she trailed off, her gaze fixed on the stars beyond the glass. "Now it's different. Being with you guys—it makes me stronger in ways I didn't expect. And that scares the hell out of me."
Sam swallowed hard. He knew exactly what she meant.
"Me too," he admitted quietly.
They sat in silence again, the weight of unspoken fears settling between them like a second gravity. It wasn't exactly comforting, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.
A Flicker of Hope
"Hey." Lila's voice broke the quiet, pulling Sam from his thoughts. She stood at the edge of the bridge, her tablet glowing faintly in the dim light. "I found something. I think it's a new destination."
Sam turned in his seat, grateful for the distraction. "What did you find?"
Lila held up the tablet, showing a star map marked with shifting coordinates. "There's a place not far from here—something the Atlas calls the Echo Veil. It's supposed to be... strange. Time works differently there. Some say it's a place where memories live."
"Memories?" Kian asked, swiveling in his chair. "Like... ghosts?"
Lila shrugged. "Something like that. I thought it might be worth checking out. If the Keeper's right about needing to understand the dark, maybe this place can help."
Sam frowned, the idea unsettling him. A place where memories lived? He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. But something told him they needed to go.
"We've come this far," he said, trying to keep the doubt out of his voice. "Might as well see where it takes us."
Kian grinned, the first real smile Sam had seen from him in hours. "What's life without a little ghost-hunting adventure, right?"
Nova rolled her eyes but smirked. "You say that now. Just wait until something creepy shows up."
Lila gave a small, determined nod. "Plotting the course. The Echo Veil is two star systems away."
Sam leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He didn't know what they'd find in the Echo Veil, but one thing was certain—this wasn't just a search for answers anymore. It was a journey into the unknown, where every choice carried weight and every step brought them closer to something bigger than themselves.
Into the Echo Veil
The Star Chaser shot forward, cutting through the void like an arrow. Stars stretched and blurred as they entered faster-than-light travel. Sam felt the familiar hum of the engines vibrating beneath his feet, but this time, it felt different—like the ship knew they were heading toward something important.
As the galaxy folded around them, Sam rested his hands on the controls and glanced at his crew.
Lila, focused and determined. Kian, eager for the next challenge. Nova, guarded but present.
And Sam—uncertain but still moving forward.
The journey ahead was dangerous, and the shadows would only grow deeper. But maybe, just maybe, they would find something worth fighting for on the other side.
And maybe they would find the answers they needed—not just about the galaxy but about themselves.
"Next stop," Sam whispered, "the Echo Veil."
The stars outside flickered as if in response. And the Star Chaser soared into the unknown.
Lila's POV
The hum of the ship's engines thrummed through Lila's bones, steady as a heartbeat. It was comforting in a way, like the only thing in the universe that wouldn't break down or change without warning. She glanced at the shimmering star map on her tablet, her mind churning through coordinates and gravitational anomalies. The Echo Veil... where memories live.
Her fingers danced across the screen, but the numbers blurred. A pit was forming in her stomach, the same way it always did when they were on the brink of something unknown. She hated not knowing. Data made sense; the void was just math waiting to be solved. But the deeper they traveled, the less the numbers seemed to matter.
And then there was Sam. She glanced toward the cockpit. Even when he smiled, there was something heavy beneath it—something he never talked about. That was the thing about Sam: he wore his burdens like armor, thinking it kept the rest of them safe. But all it did was make him lonelier. Not that I'm any better.
Lila let out a slow breath, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. There were days she wondered if they were all just pretending—acting like they had some grand mission to save Lumen, when really they were running from something they couldn't name.
The Echo Veil, she thought again, shivering despite herself. What if it showed them things they weren't ready to see?
She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would help banish the thought. But in the dark behind her eyelids, she saw memories flicker—her old life back on Lumen, the faces of friends she hadn't thought about in ages, and the things she'd left behind without looking back. They won't be there when I return, a quiet voice reminded her. And that's on me.
Lila shook her head, chasing the memories away. "Focus," she whispered. "Solve what's in front of you. That's what you're good at."
She wasn't here to wallow in what-ifs. She was here to find answers.
Kian's POV
Kian drummed his fingers on the weapons console, scanning for any signs of movement in the surrounding void. So far, nothing—just the cold, indifferent black. Not even the thrill of a potential asteroid collision to keep his mind occupied.
He rolled his neck, feeling the knot of tension at the base of his skull. It was funny—when they first left Lumen, this whole mission had felt like an adventure. Fly a starship across the galaxy, find some lost stars, maybe punch a few space pirates along the way. But now? It was different. Darker.
He hated how serious everything was getting. He hated the feeling that something was slipping through his fingers—something important.
His gaze drifted to Sam at the helm. Kian had known Sam for years, back before everything got so complicated. And if he was being honest, it was weird seeing his old friend carry so much weight. Sam had always been the responsible one, but this was different. He was trying to carry the whole galaxy on his shoulders, and Kian wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.
"Man, when did we start acting like grown-ups?" Kian muttered under his breath.
Nova snorted from where she leaned against the wall. "You still don't act like one."
Kian grinned. "That's because I've got style. Something you could learn, by the way."
Nova gave him a look that could melt steel. "If you keep talking, I'm shoving you out the airlock."
Kian laughed, but the sound was hollow. He leaned back in his seat, feeling the weight of the silence creeping in again. What if we can't fix things? What if this whole mission is just us spinning our wheels, chasing stars that don't want to be found?
He shook his head. That kind of thinking wasn't his style. No matter how bad things got, you kept moving. You fought, you joked, you survived. Because the second you stopped—well, that's when the real trouble started.
Nova's POV
Nova watched the others with a guarded expression, her arms folded across her chest. She could feel the tension in the air—thick and suffocating, like a storm waiting to break. It was in the way Lila chewed on her lip, the way Kian drummed his fingers, and the way Sam stared out at the stars, as if he was hoping the galaxy might give him answers.
They were all afraid, even if they didn't say it out loud.
Nova leaned her head back, tapping her foot against the metal wall behind her. This is what happens when you get too close, she thought bitterly. She'd told herself a hundred times that she wouldn't let her guard down. Not again. Caring was a trap—it made you weak, made you vulnerable. And the universe wasn't kind to the vulnerable.
But somehow, against her better judgment, these idiots had wormed their way in. She found herself watching over them—making sure Sam didn't drown in his guilt, making sure Lila didn't lose herself in equations, making sure Kian didn't get himself killed doing something reckless. She told herself it was just because they were useful. But deep down, she knew that wasn't true.
And that scared her more than anything.
She kicked off the wall and walked over to the cockpit, leaning over Sam's shoulder. "So what's the plan, Captain?"
Sam glanced at her, his expression carefully neutral. "We head to the Echo Veil. See what it has to offer."
"And if it offers something we don't like?"
Sam gave a tired smile. "We deal with it. Same as always."
Nova stared at him for a moment, searching his face. He's scared too, she realized. But instead of running from it, he was leaning into it. That was Sam's way—stubborn and infuriating, but always moving forward.
She sighed, resting a hand on the back of his chair. "Just don't get us all killed, okay?"
"I'll do my best," Sam said, his voice quiet but steady.
Back to the Journey
The Star Chaser sped toward the Echo Veil, the stars outside growing dimmer as they approached the edge of the known galaxy. The air inside the ship felt heavy with unspoken fears and unacknowledged hopes, but none of them turned back.
For better or worse, they were in this together.
And as they plunged deeper into the unknown, each of them carried their own burdens, their own fears, and their own hopes—shadows and light, entwined.
What lay ahead in the Echo Veil was uncertain. But they would face it, whatever it was.
Because out here, in the vast emptiness of space, all you could do was keep moving forward.
Nova watched the stars dim as they sailed toward the Echo Veil, her reflection faint in the window. She barely recognized herself anymore—she looked like a ghost, all sharp lines and tired eyes. She tapped her fingers on the cold metal frame of the cockpit window, trying to ground herself, but nothing seemed to anchor her thoughts tonight.
What are we even doing? The question gnawed at the edges of her mind, and for once, she didn't push it away. Flying through the dark, searching for stars that might not even want to come home—it felt pointless. And dangerous. Too many variables, too many ways things could go wrong. Yet here they were, speeding into the unknown, because that's what they always did.
Nova leaned her forehead against the glass. The metal hummed beneath her skin, steady and indifferent. Unlike people, the ship didn't care if you screwed up or made mistakes. It just kept flying. Machines are simple, she thought. It's people who are complicated.
And she was beginning to realize she cared too much about these people. That wasn't part of the plan.
Ghosts and Walls
She shot a glance over her shoulder. Sam was hunched at the controls, lost in his thoughts. His posture was stiff, the weight of command pressing down on him. It was the same every day—he carried more than he should, like he was trying to hold the universe together with his bare hands. She could see it in the way his knuckles tightened around the flight stick, white and strained.
Nova hated that about him. But she hated it more because she understood it. We're the same, she thought grimly. Carrying things we shouldn't, hiding things we won't say out loud.
Lila was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her tablet balanced on her knees. She looked calm, her dark hair falling in waves around her face, but Nova knew better. Lila was a storm under the surface—a quiet, meticulous storm. She saw things that no one else saw, worked through problems others didn't even know existed. But she kept it all bottled up, probably because she thought no one would understand.
Kian sprawled in the co-pilot's seat, fiddling with the weapons panel like a kid with a new toy. He made jokes because that's how he survived. Nova knew his type well—charming, reckless, always acting like the world was a game. But behind the grin was someone who never quite trusted himself, someone scared of being serious because seriousness meant things could fall apart.
Yeah, we're all walking disasters, Nova thought bitterly. And somehow, I'm stuck with them.
And the worst part? She didn't want to be anywhere else. That's what scared her most of all.
Cracks in the Armor
Nova dropped into the seat next to Sam and propped her boots up on the console. He gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing. She liked that about him—he didn't feel the need to fill every silence.
For a long moment, they just sat there, watching the stars shift. The dim streaks of light made her think of old photographs, memories blurred around the edges. She knew the Echo Veil would dredge up things they weren't ready to face. It always did, places like that. Places where memories live... and where old wounds open.
Nova exhaled slowly, kicking her heel against the console. "You think we're ready for whatever's waiting in there?"
Sam's lips twitched, but it wasn't quite a smile. "Nope."
She smirked despite herself. "Honest answer. I respect that."
Sam leaned back in his seat, his hands still on the controls. "You ever think about what you'd do if you weren't... doing this?"
Nova blinked, caught off guard. "What, flying headfirst into strange space clouds and chasing rogue stars? Nah, this is exactly what I imagined when I was a kid."
Sam gave a soft laugh. It was a rare sound—small but real. And for a moment, the tension between them eased.
But then, as always, the silence crept back in. And with it, the weight of unspoken things.
Nova drummed her fingers on her knee, fighting the urge to bolt from the room. Vulnerability was uncomfortable. But the truth was, she was tired of running—from herself, from them, from everything.
"Do you ever wonder if we're just..." she trailed off, struggling to find the words. "Like, what if we never find what we're looking for? What if we don't get the answers?"
Sam's gaze didn't waver. "Then we keep going anyway."
Nova huffed a breath, part frustrated, part impressed. "You always this stubborn?"
"Pretty much."
Echoes on the Horizon
Nova glanced back toward the others—Lila, who was now lost in her tablet, and Kian, who was casually flipping switches like they weren't flying straight into the unknown. She felt a strange tug in her chest, a mix of exasperation and something dangerously close to affection.
These idiots.
But they were her idiots. And that was something.
She turned back to the window, watching as the faint glow of the Echo Veil appeared in the distance—a swirling mist of pale light and shadow, like the fabric of space itself was coming undone. It looked peaceful from here. But Nova knew better. Places like that were never peaceful. They were traps, full of half-truths and ghosts that refused to stay buried.
"We're getting close," Sam murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Nova felt the ship hum beneath her, the subtle shift in the engines as they adjusted course. The stars around them dimmed even further, swallowed by the edges of the Veil. It felt like stepping into a dream—or a nightmare.
"You sure you're ready for this?" she asked, her voice low.
Sam gave her a glance, his expression unreadable. "No. But I think we have to do it anyway."
Nova nodded, her chest tightening. She hated that answer, but she also knew it was the right one. That was the thing about Sam—he wasn't always right, but he never gave up.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
The Edge of the Veil
The Echo Veil loomed closer, its misty tendrils reaching out like fingers. Nova's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and anticipation. She glanced at Sam one last time, catching the flicker of doubt in his eyes before he buried it beneath his usual calm.
"Whatever happens in there," Nova said quietly, "we stick together. No matter what."
Sam nodded, his gaze steady. "No matter what."
And with that, they crossed the threshold.
The ship shuddered as it entered the Veil, and for a moment, everything went still—like the universe itself was holding its breath.
And then the shadows began to stir.
The cockpit felt too small. Sam adjusted the ship's course for the hundredth time, though it wasn't really necessary. The Star Chaser was running smooth, her engines humming with steady precision, but piloting gave his hands something to do—something that distracted him from the gnawing anxiety swirling in his gut.
Ahead, the Echo Veil loomed like a curtain of fog unraveling into the void. Its edges shimmered with wisps of light, but there was something off about it, something that made his skin crawl. It was too still. Too quiet. Like the calm before a storm.
Sam gritted his teeth, gripping the controls tighter. We've come this far. No turning back now. But that didn't mean he liked it.
Thoughts that Stick Like Shadows
He caught a glimpse of Nova in the reflection of the glass—a flicker of movement as she leaned against the console. She'd stuck with him through all of this, despite her prickly attitude and all the reasons she had to walk away. That was just Nova, though. She acted like she didn't care, but her actions always said otherwise.
Sam envied that, in a way. Nova could pretend not to care. He didn't have that luxury. Every decision weighed on him like stones in his pockets—Lumen's fading light, the lost stars, the people they left behind. He couldn't afford to make the wrong choice. One mistake, and it all crumbles.
He shot a glance toward the others. Kian was drumming his fingers on the console, radiating restless energy, while Lila was buried in her data, lips pressed into a frown. They were both pretending in their own ways—Kian with his jokes, Lila with her obsession over numbers.
They're just like me, Sam thought. We're all holding on by threads, but none of us will admit it.
He knew why they were afraid. They were heading into the Veil—a place where memories had weight and ghosts wore familiar faces. And once they crossed that line, there was no guarantee they'd come out the same.
Sam ran a hand down his face, feeling the exhaustion settle in. I have to keep them safe. No matter what. But how do you prepare for something you don't understand? He hated the unknown—hated the way it clawed at him, turning doubts into certainties. What if we fail? What if the stars are gone forever?
He pushed the thought away, but it clung to the edges of his mind like fog.
A Plan in Fragments
Sam's plan wasn't much of a plan at all—more like a collection of guesses strung together with blind hope.
First: Get into the Veil. Find the missing stars, or at least figure out what was keeping them trapped.
Second: Survive whatever the Veil threw at them. The legends said it was a place where thoughts became real—where the things you feared most took shape. That scared him more than he cared to admit.
Third: Bring the stars back to Lumen. Somehow.
Sam rubbed his temples. It wasn't exactly a rock-solid strategy, but it was all they had. And he wasn't sure if it was bravery or stupidity driving him forward at this point.
The truth was, the stars weren't just some cosmic treasure to him. They were people, beings he remembered from childhood—flickers of light that had always been there, like old friends watching over him. And now they were gone, swallowed by the galaxy's dark corners.
He didn't just want to save them. He needed to. Because if he couldn't even do that, what was the point of any of this?
"You're Not Alone, Sam"
The silence stretched between them until Nova broke it, her voice low and sharp: "You look like you're thinking too hard again."
Sam gave a half-smile. "Isn't that my job?"
Nova rolled her eyes. "Your job is to keep us from dying. Overthinking doesn't help."
Sam exhaled through his nose. "It's hard not to."
Nova leaned closer, and for a moment, the walls between them seemed thinner. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."
Her words hit harder than they should have. Sam turned his eyes back to the Veil, jaw tightening. Don't have to do this alone? Maybe not. But it felt like he did.
"You're not alone," Nova repeated, softer this time, like she could read his thoughts. "We've got you."
Sam nodded, though he wasn't sure if he believed it. He appreciated the sentiment, but the weight was still his to carry. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was the only one keeping this mission from falling apart. If he faltered, everything would unravel.
The Edge Beckons
"We're close," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
The Echo Veil rippled in the distance, its tendrils of light reaching out like it was waiting for them. A shiver ran down Sam's spine. This wasn't just another mission. This was a threshold—once they crossed it, nothing would be the same.
Lila shifted beside him, breaking the silence. "I've charted a safe course through the Veil... or at least, it should be safe."
Kian grinned from his seat, a flash of his usual bravado. "Should be? Sounds promising."
Sam shot him a look. "Focus."
Kian held up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Captain. I'm ready."
Sam wished he could share Kian's ease. But his hands were already tightening on the controls, his heart pounding in sync with the hum of the engines.
"Whatever's in there," Sam said quietly, "we face it together. No one gets left behind."
His voice sounded steadier than he felt. That was the thing about being in charge—you had to pretend you had all the answers, even when you didn't.
He flicked a switch on the console, adjusting their trajectory one final time. "Strap in," he told the crew. "We're going in."
Crossing the Threshold
The Star Chaser plunged into the Echo Veil, and the world around them shifted. The starlight outside dimmed to a flickering haze, and the ship shuddered as if it had hit something solid. For a moment, everything went still—too still.
Then the shadows came to life.
Tendrils of mist coiled around the ship, brushing against the hull like curious hands. The controls flickered under Sam's touch, the screen displaying fractured star maps that glitched and reassembled into strange patterns. The air felt heavier, thick with the weight of unspoken things.
Sam's pulse quickened. It's just a trick of the Veil, he told himself. It's not real.
But it felt real. Too real.
And then the first whisper slid through the comms—a voice he hadn't heard in years. "Sam... where are you?"
He froze.
It was Lumen's voice.