The sphere brightened, and a soft melody filled the deck—a harmony of chimes, strings, and distant drums, as if the station’s very structure were singing. The music wove itself around their thoughts, and Cee found herself recalling a lullaby from her childhood, the one she sang to the twins on the colony ship before they were born. Jay, in turn, thought of the rhythm of his hammer striking metal, the cadence that had built his life.
When the sphere finally dimmed, the green light receded, leaving behind a faint, lingering amber glow on the dome’s interior. The air settled, and the deck’s consoles returned to their normal displays. Lustery.E1141.Cee.Dale.And.Jay.Grazz.Watching.Y...
She reached out, her gloved hand hovering just above the sphere. The moment her fingertips brushed the edge, the sphere pulsed brighter, the green turning into a warm amber, and a low tone resonated through the deck—something like a single chord struck on an ancient, resonant harp. The sphere brightened, and a soft melody filled
“‘Y’,” she whispered, the name forming in her mind as naturally as breathing. “The old transmission logs spoke of an entity they called Y—something that manifested only when observers were present. We thought it was myth.” When the sphere finally dimmed, the green light
Jay’s eyes widened. “It’s… it’s trying to communicate through our own sensors. It’s using us as a conduit.”