The galaxy holds its breath.
N-no, it says.
Kal
The blades are lead in my hands, my body slick with sweat inside my armor. I stumble in the blood, thick and sticky upon the crystalline floor.
“… Kaliis …”
I do not listen to its voice, the pistol in my hand flaring.
“… We know you love her, Kaliis. We love her, too… .”
Around me, the Vindicator’s crew fights with all the fury of those with nothing to lose. I feel the Enemy Within awakening—the part of me shaped by the man in that throne room, who delights in war and carnage. I have fought against it for as long as I can remember, this thing he tried to twist me into. But as much as I hate him, I am glad he is within me now.
… There is only one way you may save her. One way she might live, eternal, your love evergreen in the light of a warmth all-consuming …
Do not listen to its voice. Listen to his.
Mercy is for the weak.
Peace is for the coward.
Tears are for the conquered.
More are coming. Dozens. Hundreds. I look to Tyler, and his face is grim. Lae meets my eyes, and I can see the death that stalks us.
But we cannot allow them to get to Aurora.
“Hurry, be’shmai,” I whisper.
Aurora
“No?” I ask, my voice rising. “What do you mean, no? You built the thing! You should know how to fix it!”
The image flickers again, like a transmission losing power. I can feel the ground shake beneath my feet. Outside, the Ra’haam drips closer, like molasses, thick and sickly sweet. Toward Kal, Tyler, the others …
“Esh!” I shout.
The Echo. The Weapon itself. This p-personification of us … all are linked. As it is damaged, so t-too are we. We cannot h-help you.
Another tremor passes through the ground. Lightning cracks the shattered sky above. I can feel them out there, bleeding in slow motion, one by one falling under those impossible numbers. I’m not sure what Esh even means, but every second we spend speaking, my defenders are dying.
I look around the Echo, to Esh itself. Mind racing.
“If this place and the Weapon are linked …”
I reach toward the closest object, lying in a hundred rose-colored pieces on the grass. I can feel the remnants of the energies in this place. See the way it used to be in my mind’s eye, all those months I spent in here with Kal, clear as glass. And as my eye begins to glow, I pull the pieces together, reforming it in the palm of my hand.
A single, perfect flower.
In answer, outside beyond the Echo, I feel a tiny crack in the Weapon’s hull stitch itself closed.
Yes, Esh nods. You s-see.
I close my eyes, slow my breathing, slow my mind, taking in my surroundings—real and virtual—and attuning myself to both. I can still sense the others beyond—quick brushes of Kal’s familiar mind, of Tyler’s, even, and of Lae’s. I can taste their fear and courage, their grief as their friends fall, their fury at the thing taking them away. And above and around it all, I can feel the creeping unnaturalness of the Ra’haam.
It wants me… .
I trained as a cartographer for the Octavia mission for years. And walking here in the Echo every day with Kal, I couldn’t help learning the shape of this place. I draw that memory close, remembering what this place was.
The way it can be again.
But it’s so big, to hold it all inside my head… .
Hard as I try, I can’t… .
“I can’t,” I hiss, trembling hand outstretched.
You must.
I reach out both hands, face twisting as I try to hold it all.
“We’re running out of time, help me!”
But Esh only shakes its head.
“I can’t do this alone!”
Kal
We are failing.
The Ra’haam has pushed us back, Tyler’s crew falling one by one as we give ground. The crystalline floors are awash with blood, the stink of death hangs in the air, and the enemy simply keeps coming.
“Lae, fall back!” Tyler roars, blasting from behind cover.
She dances among those awful figures, null blade aglow, cutting down a flower-eyed monstrosity lunging for Dacca’s back.
“Back where?” she shouts.
She speaks truth—we can retreat no farther. Behind us is the entrance to the throne room. If the enemy reaches my father and Aurora, all hope will be—
A shot hits my legs, thick and viscous. It is like … glue, pinning my leg to the floor. Another strikes my belly, and I fall, covered in more of this sticky ooze. I realize I cannot move, stuck like an insect in amber, and horror unfurls as I understand the Ra’haam does not wish to kill us—it wishes to subdue us, drag us into its awful singularity.