The control room was quieter than usual, though that quiet came with a weight. A heavy, aching kind. The hum of the monitors seemed deeper, slower. Like the whole system was holding its breath.
Rowan stood beside the central console, eyes locked on the stream of anchor logs flickering across his screen.
[ANCHOR STABILIZER SYNC: MERCER, R. — 92% — FLUCTUATION DETECTED] [LINKED ESPER: VAUGHN, L. — CORRUPTION LEVEL: 67% — WARNING: OVERLOAD THRESHOLD NEARING] [SYSTEM ALERT: MEMORY LOOP DISCREPANCY — IDENTITY NODE SHIFT DETECTED]
He frowned. The logs never lied—but these readings didn't make sense. Lucian's resonance pattern was fluctuating far beyond normal post-mission exhaustion. And more than that...
Rowan stared at the console as a brief flicker warped across the screen. For the shortest fraction of a second, his name was gone—replaced by a distorted version of his ID.
[R3W4N: UNREGISTERED]
Rowan stepped back instinctively. "What the hell..."
He ran a secondary trace, hands moving fast over the controls. The anomaly didn't return, but the echo of it—like a ghost in the system—made his skin crawl. His vitals were stable.
Lucian's were not.
He saved the corrupted log to an encrypted partition and tapped into the direct channel to Evelyn. "Zarek. You need to see this."
Across the room, Evelyn glanced up from her own terminal. Ava stood beside her, reading resonance overlays and projected stabilizer trends. Both of them looked tired. Hollowed out by too many sleepless nights.
But Rowan's tone had urgency.
He strode across the command deck to them, flashing the corrupted data on his wrist console. "There's an anomaly in the anchor logs. My ID glitched out for half a second. And Lucian's readings... they're worsening."
Evelyn leaned in. Her brow furrowed. "Identity loop error?"
Rowan nodded. "Brief. But real."
Before she could respond, the doors burst open.
Vespera was the first through, her navy coat flaring behind her, violet eyes unusually wide. "I need to speak to you. Now."
Behind her, Kira followed, her usually composed face tense with something bordering fear.
Rowan turned. "What happened?"
Vespera's voice was lower now, but taut. "I was reviewing system tags for post-mission field casualty cross-referencing."
Evelyn motioned them closer. "Go on."
Vespera hesitated only a moment. "Juno's name. It changed."
Ava's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean changed?"
"It was like... for a moment, she was alive. Her name was there, flagged under the living personnel roster. Just for a second. Then it corrected itself. Or the system did."
Evelyn's jaw tensed.
Rowan swallowed, heart ticking faster.
Kira stepped forward. "I saw something too."
They all turned to her.
"I was in Hall Sector C4. I followed... I thought I saw someone. Not a figure I recognized. A humanoid shape. It moved wrong. I followed it past the corner, but when I turned, it was gone."
Rowan's breath caught.
"Then my wrist console buzzed." Kira lifted her forearm. The message still flashed there.
[ALERT: SECTOR V9 — TRACE ECHO ACTIVITY DETECTED — FLAG: TEMPORAL OFFSET]
"Sector V9..." Ava whispered.
"The site I was trapped in," Kira confirmed. "The Rift that collapsed... I thought it was a memory glitch. A remnant. But this—this was something else. I felt it. It was watching me."
Vespera's arms crossed. "Whatever this is, it's rewriting more than data."
Evelyn turned slowly to her board, pulled up archived core logs, mission entries, and anchor trace overlays. "It's not a single incident. These occurrences are spreading. Targeted, unpredictable... but they're not random."
Rowan exhaled. "Then it's systemic. The loop, the anchor fluctuations, the rewritten names—something's bleeding through."
Ava touched the screen gently. "We've seen echo drift before. This isn't drift. This is intentional."
"But intentional by what?" Kira asked sharply. "Or who?"
Silence followed. The hum of the base systems pulsed around them like a second heartbeat.
Evelyn stared at the interlaced resonance map forming across the projection. "Whatever it is... it's learning. It's trying to fix something."
Rowan's throat felt tight. "By overwriting us."
Vespera added quietly, "By deciding who stays and who disappears."
Evelyn stood straighter. "I want all anomalies logged. From every sector. No more assumptions. Ava—cross-reference the V9 alert with the command memory logs. Kira, I want you to retrace your steps. And Rowan…"
"I'll keep monitoring the anchor logs," he said. "If this is centered on resonance, I'll catch the next shift."
The room was a storm of tension. Every breath felt too sharp. Every flicker of light carried meaning now.
Kira turned once more toward the projection wall. Her voice was quiet. "We're past the point of coincidence, aren't we?"
No one answered.
The system didn't hum anymore.
It whispered.
And somewhere in the foundations of the command deck, something watched back.
[UNREGISTERED PRESENCE DETECTED: ORIGIN UNKNOWN] [ANCHOR POINT: FLUCTUATING] [SYSTEM INTEGRITY: DEGRADED]
The words pulsed across the main screen like a heartbeat out of sync.
Rowan stood frozen beside Ava, the alert still burning in harsh red on the monitor. A low-pitched hum filled the command deck, vibrating through the floor, the walls, the core of the building. Not an alarm. A resonance—unstable, wrong.
"That's not just a reading glitch," Rowan said, voice tight.
"No," Evelyn replied. She tapped a command into the console, trying to isolate the signal. "This is active interference. Real-time."
Kira stood nearby, arms crossed, jaw tense. "I saw something. A humanoid figure. Gone the moment I turned the corner."
"And I saw Juno's name flash in the confirmed logs." Vespera's voice was quiet, but resolute. "The deceased. Rewritten—for a second. Like the system forgot she was dead."
A beat of silence fell.
Then Rowan stepped closer to the central hub, his gaze flicking toward the newest log entry.
[ANCHOR MATCH DETECTED: MERCER, R. — MATCH LEVEL: 89.04%]
[WARNING: DUPLICATE SIGNAL PINGING FROM OUTSIDE STATION PERIMETER.]
[CONFLICT DETECTED.]
His blood ran cold.
Ava leaned in. "Rowan, that can't be—"
"It's me," he whispered. "Or something pretending to be me."
"That shouldn't be possible," Evelyn said, but even her voice faltered. "Even with baseline divergence and recursive echo drift... this is different."
"That figure," Kira cut in, expression sharpening. "It wasn't just humanoid. It moved wrong. Too still, too quiet—like... like it knew I was there before I did."
The atmosphere turned stifling.
"And if there's a duplicate signal," Rowan said slowly, fingers tightening at his sides, "that means it has a tether."
"Or it's trying to become one," Ava added softly. "If the system's anchor readings are fluctuating..."
"Then something is trying to overwrite Rowan," Evelyn finished. Her face had gone pale, and for once, her poise cracked just enough to show the depth of her dread.
The room fell into a charged silence.
Then Rowan exhaled, stepping back from the console. "We need to isolate that signal and trace it—before it gets any closer. Or worse—before it becomes me."
Rowan's words hung in the air, taut with tension.
Evelyn straightened. "Then we don't wait. We mobilize."
Her tone snapped the room into motion. Ava nodded and moved to send a secured ping across the building, coded for clearance-only responders.
"I'll bring the active team in," Rowan said.
"No," Evelyn said. "I'll bring them in. You're coming with me. You know this thing's resonance—if it's trying to match yours, your presence might draw it out."
Rowan's jaw tightened but he gave a single nod. "Fine. But I want full tactical containment."
"We'll run a soft formation sweep. Quiet and fast. No one outside this room knows about this yet," Evelyn replied. "Until we confirm what we're dealing with, this is internal."
Ava turned from the console. "I've sent the alert to Dain, Vespera, Alexander, Kira, Mira, Elias, Ari, Quinn, Sloane, Nolan, and Haru. Mira and Haru are already suited up from Rift defense standby."
"Good. Let's move."
Fifteen Minutes Later – Deck Nine Armory Staging Bay
They gathered in partial gear, their silhouettes dark against the flickering wall panels of the armory—a quiet energy thrumming beneath their movements. The tension wasn't from fear. It was from purpose.
Alexander stood near the entrance, arms folded over his chest, face still pale from healing injuries but present nonetheless. His massive frame was once again wrapped in field armor, his heavy shield resting against the wall beside him. A few bruises still bloomed faint purple under his eyes, but his voice was steady when he asked, "No Lucian?"
"He's under medical quarantine," Ava said simply. "His resonance levels haven't stabilized since the Rift Echo fight."
"Probably for the best," murmured Sloane from where he leaned against the wall, silver-streaked hair half-tucked under his collar. "If this is a trap mimicking Rowan's signal, putting both halves of the anchor dynamic in the field might destabilize the feedback loop."
Vespera's eyes lingered on Rowan briefly, quiet concern etched between her brows. "And if this presence is a tether parasite… you'll be a beacon."
Rowan adjusted his gloves. "I know."
Mira checked the settings on her sniper rig and loaded a fresh round of fire-enhanced cartridges. "So we find the anomaly and neutralize it."
"I prefer capture if possible," Evelyn said as she entered with Ava beside her. "But if it mimics Rowan fully—if it becomes him—terminate on sight."
Elias, silent until now, flicked his wrist console open. "Got the ghost signal's residual path. It's flickering in and out, always just at the edge of scanner range. V-Deck 13, lower wing corridor. Same floor as the backup reactor."
"That floor is sealed off for maintenance," Nolan muttered, frowning.
"Not anymore," Kira said, frost forming faintly along her sleeves. Her expression was sharper than usual. She hadn't said much since her last encounter with the figure, but the tightness in her posture said enough.
Quinn stepped up beside Ari, their energy in sync without a word. She handed him a short-range dampener, and he slid it into his utility belt without comment.
Rowan turned to Evelyn. "Are we ready?"
She nodded. "We move in two teams. Mira, Haru, Elias, Kira, and Nolan—flank around the eastern corridor. Rowan's team goes central: Alexander, Sloane, Dain, Quinn, Ari, and Vespera. Ava and I will handle overwatch from Command Netbase."
Dain cracked his knuckles, then unsnapped the safety strap from his wrist blaster. "About time we hunted something that wasn't made of teeth and screaming shadow mist."
"Don't jinx it," Vespera murmured.
Rowan inhaled deeply and clicked his comm channel on.
"Team Two. On me."
Sub-Deck 13 – Lower Corridor
The lights flickered as they moved in formation. Ari was up front with Alexander, her knives in hand, steps soft and rapid.
Sloane followed behind, eyes narrowed, brushing one hand against the wall, leaving behind a thin haze of mist with every step.
Dain muttered a quiet hymn beneath his breath—some half-remembered battle chant from an old operation.
Rowan moved in the center. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Every flicker of shadow looked like a silhouette. Every echo sounded like footsteps out of time.
A low pulse reverberated through the wall.
[PING. ANCHOR SIGNAL VARIANCE: +12.6%]
[UNREGISTERED PRESENCE NEARING PROXIMITY]
The hallway curved, flickering with faulty lights.
And then it appeared.
Down the far end of the corridor—barely more than a distortion at first.
A humanoid figure. Blank, blurred. Limbs too still. Face lost in static. But unmistakably shaped like a man. Like him.
Rowan stepped back instinctively.
It took a single step forward.
And then it flickered again—closer. Almost like it blinked through the space.
"Visual confirmation," Dain whispered. "Jesus, it's glitching."
Ari raised her blades, low and tight to her body. "Looks like it's deciding whether it wants to be creepy or hostile."
"Or both," Quinn muttered beside her.
The figure turned its head.
And locked eyes with Rowan.
Even from this distance—there was no face. Just shimmer. But Rowan felt it staring into him. Like it knew every fracture beneath his skin.
The air pulsed again—low and sharp.
It took another step.
And the lights went out.