Chapter 3: The Aftermath
The trek back to the base camp was suffocating in its silence. Aela walked in the lead, her legs trembling beneath the weight of her thoughts. Behind her, Khorin and the rest of the team moved slowly, some leaning on each other for support. The Cradle loomed in the distance, faint tendrils of its glow barely visible beneath the moon's ashen surface.
It felt wrong to leave. The pulsing images in Aela's mind made it feel as if she were walking away from her own heartbeat.
They reached the camp just as the horizon shifted, the first signs of the nearby star casting a dull light over the moon's desolation. The command tent buzzed with activity as Captain Jora and the engineers ran diagnostics on the Cradle's seismic activity.
"What the hell happened in there?" Jora demanded the moment Aela stepped into the tent. Her sharp green eyes scanned Aela's pale face.
Aela opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. How could she explain what she'd seen—what she'd felt—without sounding insane?
"They're alive," Khorin said, breaking the silence. He leaned heavily on a chair, his voice hollow. "Those things in the chamber… they're not artifacts. They're sentient."
Jora froze, her eyes narrowing. "Sentient? You're saying the Cradle is some kind of… living machine?"
"It's more than that," Aela interjected, her voice trembling but firm. "The beings inside aren't just alive. They're… unfinished. They're meant to be something greater."
The tent fell silent. Aela glanced at the faces of her team, a mix of awe, disbelief, and thinly veiled fear.
"They communicated with you?" Jora asked, her tone skeptical but curious.
Aela nodded. "One of them did. It called me the 'spark.' It said I have to make a choice, but I don't know what that means."
Jora pinched the bridge of her nose, frustration evident. "Do you realize what you're saying? You're implying that these… creatures, or constructs, are tied to you somehow. How could that even be possible?"
Aela shook her head, frustration bubbling inside her. "I don't know! All I know is that it connected with me, and it showed me things—things I can't explain. The Cradle isn't just a relic. It's alive, and it's waking up."
Jora sighed and turned to the engineers. "We need to isolate the Cradle's energy readings. If it's waking up, we need to know exactly what kind of power we're dealing with."
Aela stepped closer, her voice rising. "You don't understand. This isn't just about energy levels or technology. This is about life itself. The Cradle is a seed for something bigger, and if we don't figure out what's happening, we could be putting the entire galaxy at risk."
Jora's gaze hardened. "And that's exactly why we need to proceed with caution. I'm not sending anyone else into that thing until we know more."
Aela bit back a retort, clenching her fists. She felt like a puppet on strings, yanked between the weight of her team's safety and the inexplicable pull of the Cradle.
"Captain," Khorin said quietly, breaking the tension. "If the Cradle is waking up, waiting might not be an option. Whatever's inside… it's not going to wait for us to figure it out."
Jora hesitated, her eyes darting between Khorin and Aela. Finally, she nodded. "Fine. We'll run a full analysis, but no one goes back inside without my authorization. Understood?"
Aela nodded reluctantly, but the fire in her chest refused to be extinguished.
Later that night, Aela sat alone outside her tent, staring at the faint glow of the Cradle in the distance. Her mind replayed the vision again and again: the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth of stars, the image of herself standing at the center of it all.
She didn't feel like a spark. She felt like a flickering ember, fragile and powerless against the enormity of what she'd seen.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Khorin's voice. "Couldn't sleep either?"
Aela glanced up to see him approaching, two steaming cups in hand. She took one gratefully.
"Thanks," she murmured, taking a sip.
Khorin sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the Cradle. "What do you think it meant, calling you the spark?"
Aela shook her head. "I don't know. But it wasn't just words. It felt like… a command. Like I was being told to do something, even though I don't know what."
Khorin was silent for a moment. "Maybe you're overthinking it. Maybe it's not about what you're supposed to do but who you are."
Aela frowned. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "The Cradle chose to connect with you for a reason. Maybe it's not about solving the whole puzzle right now. Maybe it's about accepting that you're part of it."
Aela stared at the Cradle, its faint glow pulsing like a distant heartbeat. "Part of it," she repeated softly.
As the silence stretched between them, the Cradle's glow flared briefly, as if in acknowledgment. The pulse in her mind returned, faint but insistent, a reminder that the choice was coming—and with it, the weight of a universe.