I was born in the shadows.
Beneath the blaze of the Starfire, a cold, flickering light that scorches the land, I learned to survive. Not to
live—survive. There's a difference. To live, you must dream. To survive, you must become the dream's shadow.
The others, they had hope. They looked up at the sky, eyes fixed on the burning star overhead, believing the
Starfire was their salvation. I knew better. The fire was poison. It ate the world, turning life to ash, and for
what? Power? Glory? No. Power and glory were for those who lived above the clouds, in their shining cities,
safe from the burning heat and choking air. For the rest of us, the ones who dug into the earth and bled the
land dry, there was only the slow, suffocating burn of the Starfire's light.
I had learned to hide from it, to stay in the shadows where it couldn't scorch me. That's how I survived.
It's easy to become invisible when the sky is always burning, when the land is cracked and barren, and the
streets are filled with the scent of smoldering metal and blood. It's easy to slip through the cracks, to become
just another nameless face in the crowd, unnoticed, unseen. But survival doesn't come for free. You pay with
your soul, piece by piece, until nothing remains but the hollow rhythm of your heart and the grind of your
teeth as you push through another day.
Until one day, fate changed.
I had been scavenging the wreckage again, as I always did, looking for anything that could be worth
something—an old piece of tech, a salvageable tool. The under-city was a graveyard of discarded remnants, a
place where the forgotten things went to die. There was no shortage of scraps, but finding
something truly valuable was rare. It was a lucky day, or maybe it wasn't. Hard to tell now.
It started with the hum.
At first, I thought it was just the wind, a trick of the atmosphere shifting in the scorched streets. But then
it came again, louder this time, a deep vibration under my feet, a sound that felt like it was coming from
beneath the earth itself. My heart quickened, curiosity pulling me forward against the natural instinct to turn
and run.
I followed the hum.
Beneath the cracked surface of an old ruin, half-buried by rubble and dust, there it was—an old ship. Not the
sleek, polished vessels used by the elite. No, this was something oelse, something forgotten. The ship had the
shape of a creature—organic, almost alive, as though it had once been something else entirely before being
twisted into this metallic shell. Its surface shimmered faintly in the dim light of the Starfire, as though it
were breathing. A pulse. A heartbeat. I approached it cautiously, my senses tingling with a strange anticipation. The ship stood there, half-covered
in debris, its once-glorious form now looked damaged and rusty eaten away by time. The air around it seemed
colder than the rest of the undercity for some reason. My fingers
brushed against the ship's hull, and a surge of energy shot through me, making my blood run cold. The ship
seemed to respond, the faint glow intensifying as though it recognized me. I jerked back, but I couldn't resist.
My curiosity overpowered any caution.
I pried open a hatch, not knowing what I'd find, but desperate for answers, for something—anything—that
could make life on this dying planet worth more than the sweat and blood we gave it every day. Inside, the air
was cold, sterile. The walls were lined with unfamiliar symbols, and strange, arcane tech flickered with a dim,
pulsing light.
And then my eyes landed on it.
A strange artifact,
It lay in the center of the ship's cockpit, a dark, crystalline structure that pulsed with an eerie, unnatural
glow. It was the size of a fist, smooth and perfectly formed, as though it had been made by a hand far more
skilled than any human. But it wasn't the shape that caught my attention—it was the feeling it gave off. A
connection, deep within my mind, as though it was calling me.
I stepped closer, my breath shallow in my chest. The artifact was both beautiful and terrifying, its surface
shifting, like liquid metal frozen in time. As soon as my fingers brushed against it, a jolt ran through my
body, and I collapsed to the floor. The world spun around me.
You have awakened me.
It was in my mind, clear as a whisper, but so powerful it made my skull ache. My body responded to its
call—every movement smoother, every breath deeper. And somehow, I knew this wasn't just some relic. It was
alive. It was consciousness. An ancient intelligence that had been dormant for who knows how long, You are not alone anymore, it said. I am part of you now. And you... you are part of me.
The voice wasn't threatening. It was calm, almost soothing, like the hum of a distant star. But it was also
ancient, and with it came knowledge—too much knowledge to process at once. My body felt like it was going to
tear apart from the inside out as the artifact fused with me, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't pull away. It was
inside my skull, inside my veins, altering me to accommodate itself.
And then I heard something else. Footsteps. Voices. The hum of engines. They were coming.
Panic flared in my chest. I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my throat. I wasn't alone in this place.
I wasn't alone in anything anymore. They were coming for me.