The coordinate stayed in Aryaan’s head long after the holographic display had gone dark.
That, in itself, wasn’t unusual.
Every graduating student at the Academy had been trained to retain spatial information with extraordinary precision.
Years of neural conditioning, controlled pineal activation, and cultivation had made eidetic recall almost commonplace among the senior students.
Given enough concentration, Aryaan could reconstruct a room he had entered only once, remember the exact position of a weapon during combat, or redraw a complex star map from memory.
What troubled him was not that he remembered the coordinate.
It was that he recognised it.
Not intellectually.
Not because he had seen it before.
Something deeper had responded when the coordinate appeared on the display.
For the briefest moment, Aryaan had felt as though something inside him had stretched towards it, like a thread pulled taut across an immense distance.
Then the sensation had vanished.
He had told no one.
Not even Lane.
Especially not Lane.
The eight of them had assembled in one of the Academy’s auxiliary planning chambers, where a transparent table projected their assignment map several centimetres above its surface.
The room had been designed for serious academic work, but the Academy had apparently underestimated the destructive potential of eight graduating students placed around a table with unrestricted access to a three-dimensional map of the galaxy.
It had taken them less than four minutes to prove the point.
“I’m just saying,” Ron announced, leaning back in his chair, “that if the Academy expects us to investigate dangerous mutations on alien worlds, they could at least provide better equipment.”
Riyansh looked at him.
“What equipment do you want?”
“Something cool.”
“That is not a specification.”
“Something that explodes.”
Potter nodded gravely.
“Excellent. We’ve found the problem.”
Ron turned towards him.
“What problem?”
“You.”
“That’s not equipment.”
“Exactly.”
Ron stared at Potter for a moment before turning towards Aryaan.
“Do you see how he treats me?”
Aryaan continued studying the map.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Potter grinned.
Ron pointed at him.
“You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am.”
“Then why are you constantly attacking me?”
“Because friendship without bullying is just customer service.”
Ron considered this with surprising seriousness.
“That’s actually deep.”
Potter bowed.
“Thank you.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“You’re making him worse.”
“I’m making him interesting.”
“You’re making him dangerous.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even remotely.”
At the opposite side of the table, Bonita sighed.
“If the two of you are finished contributing nothing to the assignment, can we begin?”
Ron raised his hand.
Bonita stared at it.
“What?”
“I have a question.”
“Then ask it.”
“Why are you so aggressive?”
Bonita’s expression remained perfectly calm.
“Because I know you.”
Ron lowered his hand.
“That feels personal.”
“It is.”
Aryaan hid a smile.
This was why he rarely tried to force the group into silence.
There was a particular rhythm to the eight of them, an equilibrium composed of friendships, rivalries, old grievances, private loyalties and the occasional romantic complication that nobody wanted to acknowledge.
They were not always harmonious.
They were not supposed to be.
But somehow, when something genuinely mattered, they came together.
Aryaan had always been the point around which that happened.
Not because he was the strongest.
He wasn’t.
Not because he had the highest cultivation level.
He didn’t.
And certainly not because the others always agreed with him.
They absolutely did not.
Aryaan simply had a habit of finding the thread that connected eight different opinions and pulling until everyone remembered they were supposed to be on the same side.
It was a useful skill.
Especially with Ron.
Bonita enlarged the holographic display.
“Let’s go through the locations one by one.”
“Finally,” Aryaan said.
Ron raised his hand again.
Bonita didn’t look at him.
Ron kept it raised.
Bonita continued.
“The first location is Kalyx-9. Heavy atmospheric contamination. Mutation levels are still increasing.”
“Sounds fun,” Ron said.
Bonita looked at him.
“You’ll love it.”
“Really?”
“No.”
Ron lowered his hand.
Bonita enlarged the next marker.
“The second location is the Veyra Belt. There was a skirmish between two unidentified fleets three months ago. The region still contains residual energy signatures.”
Mitchell leaned forward.
“Unidentified fleets?”
Bonita nodded.
“That’s what the report says.”
“And the energy signatures were catalogued?”
“Yes.”
Mitchell’s brows drew together.
Aryaan noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Aryaan turned towards her.
“That is the second time today someone has said ‘nothing’ when they clearly mean something.”
Mitchell gave him a faint smile.
“Maybe I’m learning from Devdutt.”
Aryaan’s expression changed before he could stop it.
Mitchell noticed.
Her smile disappeared.
“So that’s where your mind still is.”
“Where?”
“In the corridor.”
Aryaan looked away.
“I was thinking about the assignment.”
“Of course.”
Potter glanced between them but, unusually, didn’t comment.
Aryaan appreciated that.
Potter’s ability to discover exactly the wrong thing to say at exactly the wrong moment was almost legendary among their friends.
His silence therefore deserved recognition.
Bonita enlarged the next marker.
The image of a planet appeared.
Gaia.
The atmosphere in the room changed.
It wasn’t dramatic.
Nobody gasped.
Nobody exchanged frightened glances.
It was subtler than that.
Sia’s attention fixed immediately on the projection.
Aryaan noticed that her shoulders had stiffened.
Ron noticed too.
But, remarkably, even he seemed to recognise that this wasn’t the time for one of his usual questions.
Gaia rotated slowly above the table.
A beautiful world.
Deep blue oceans surrounded enormous green continents, and immense cloud systems spiralled over the equatorial regions.
Unlike Earth, Gaia had not been reduced to a scarred remnant of a civilisation that had once believed itself invincible.
Gaia had suffered wars.
It had endured environmental upheavals.
It had lost cities.
But it had survived.
Its people had developed a civilisation based heavily upon resonance—the principle that life, consciousness and planetary energy were interconnected.
The Gaians believed that power could be developed by harmonising with the underlying code of existence rather than consuming the world around them.
The Orions had chosen another path.
They consumed planetary cores.
The consequences were catastrophic.
When an Orion fleet identified a world, the destruction that followed was rarely immediate.
Their victims often experienced a sequence of engineered disasters first—tectonic disturbances, atmospheric instability, biological collapse, magnetic disruption—until the planet became vulnerable enough for the Orions to reach its core.
Then they fed.
The knowledge had made the Orions powerful.
It had also destroyed their own universe.
Or that was what the surviving records suggested.
The contradiction had fascinated Academy scholars for generations.
How could a civilisation consume the foundations of its own universe and still exist?
The answer remained unknown.
Aryaan had once told Potter that perhaps the Orions had found a way to escape their universe.
Potter had replied that if the Orions could escape a dying universe, the first thing he would do was move.
Aryaan had asked where.
Potter had said:
“Somewhere with absolutely no planets.”
The joke had not been nearly as funny after Aryaan learned exactly how the Orions consumed them.
Bonita pointed towards Gaia.
“The Academy has marked this location as high risk.”
Riyansh frowned.
“Then why are students being sent there?”
“Because the Academy believes the risk is manageable.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is an Academy answer.”
Riyansh’s expression suggested that he had already decided to dislike the Academy’s answer.
Aryaan leaned over the table.
“What exactly are we supposed to investigate?”
Bonita changed the display.
The image of Gaia expanded until a particular northern region became highlighted.
“Recent fighting.”
“Between whom?”
“Unknown.”
Aryaan looked at the report.
“Unknown again?”
“Yes.”
“That’s unusual.”
“Extremely.”
Potter finally spoke.
“How many unknown battles are happening around the galaxy these days?”
Bonita looked at him.
“Enough that I’m beginning to suspect someone is deliberately keeping the records vague.”
Nobody laughed.
Potter looked around.
“I was joking.”
“I know,” Bonita replied.
Potter nodded.
“Right.”
He sat back.
“Just checking.”
Aryaan studied the data.
The report contained gaps.
Not large enough to attract immediate attention, but enough to bother him.
A missing identification code.
An incomplete timestamp.
A distorted energy signature.
A location whose combat records had been partially erased.
None of it was proof of anything.
But Aryaan had spent enough time listening to adults discuss his parents’ work to understand a simple principle.
People rarely concealed information they considered unimportant.
They concealed what they were afraid others might understand.
“Next,” he said.
Bonita changed the map.
A small artificial station appeared.
“Orion’s Wake.”
The name alone made Ron sit upright.
“That’s not ominous at all.”
Potter nodded.
“Very welcoming. Five stars. Would absolutely not recommend.”
Aryaan ignored them.
“Why is it called that?”
Bonita checked the file.
“It isn’t.”
Aryaan looked at her.
“What?”
“The official designation is Aster-47.”
“Then why does the assignment file call it Orion’s Wake?”
Bonita looked back at him.
“Exactly.”
The room changed.
This time, everyone leaned towards the table.
The station was tiny compared with the planetary bodies around it.
An abandoned mining facility situated far beyond the normal trade routes, Aster-47 had no permanent population, no commercial traffic and no registered military presence.
Its mining operations had ended decades ago.
Its last official crew had been evacuated.
And yet someone had renamed it.
Orion’s Wake.
Aryaan enlarged the image.
The station’s outer shell was scarred.
“Was it attacked?”
“Possibly.”
“By whom?”
“Unknown.”
Aryaan looked at Bonita.
“Again.”
She nodded.
“Again.”
Ron raised a finger.
“I have a theory.”
Everyone turned towards him.
Aryaan immediately regretted allowing the opportunity.
“Go ahead.”
Ron pointed towards the station.
“Aliens.”
Potter’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Bonita stared.
Mitchell looked genuinely disappointed.
Ron frowned.
“What?”
Aryaan rubbed his forehead.
“Do you have a more specific theory?”
“Yes.”
Aryaan sighed.
“Of course you do.”
“Aliens who are really good at hiding.”
Potter slapped the table.
“Genius.”
Ron smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh.”
Ron thought about it.
“Still counts.”
Aryaan shook his head.
He was beginning to suspect that Ron’s greatest talent was his ability to survive conversations that should have killed him socially.
Then Lane spoke.
“There.”
The single word cut through the noise.
Aryaan turned.
Lane was looking at the holographic display.
Not at Orion’s Wake.
Not at Gaia.
At the space between them.
Aryaan followed his gaze.
A tiny distortion had appeared in the holographic projection.
It was almost invisible.
A slight warping of the projected star field, as though the light itself had been bent around something that wasn’t there.
Aryaan narrowed his eyes.
“That isn’t part of the map.”
“No.”
Lane reached towards the projection.
The distortion vanished beneath his fingers.
Ron leaned forward.
“Sooo… what was that?”
Lane withdrew his hand.
“Don’t know.”
Ron looked at Aryaan.
“Amazing. Very informative.”
Aryaan ignored him.
“You saw that yesterday.”
Lane nodded.
Ron looked between them.
“Saw what?”
Neither answered.
Ron looked offended.
“Okay. Cool. Love the transparency.”
Aryaan hesitated.
He could tell them.
There was no reason not to.
Except Lane had deliberately chosen not to explain it, and Aryaan respected that.
Lane was not secretive merely for the sake of being secretive.
There were things Lane preferred to understand before he spoke about them.
Aryaan had learned not to force him.
Ron, however, had not.
“You two are doing the thing again,” Ron said.
“What thing?” Aryaan asked.
“The secret twin-cousin telepathy thing.”
Lane looked at him.
“We don’t have that.”
“Then why are you both staring at each other like you’re planning a bank robbery?”
Aryaan looked at Lane.
Lane looked back.
Potter slowly leaned away from the table.
“Actually, I’d like to know the answer to that too.”
Aryaan sighed.
“We saw something yesterday.”
Ron immediately leaned closer.
“What?”
“A coordinate.”
“Where?”
“Near Mokshabhumi.”
Ron stared at him.
“That’s it?”
Aryaan frowned.
“What do you mean, that’s it?”
“I thought it was going to be something interesting.”
“It was hidden.”
“So?”
“So it shouldn’t have been there.”
Ron shrugged.
“Maybe someone made a mistake.”
Lane looked at him.
Ron stared back.
“What?”
Lane said nothing.
Ron pointed.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That face.”
“I don’t have a face.”
Potter made a strangled sound.
Ron turned towards him.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re all gaslighting me.”
Aryaan raised both hands.
“Can we please finish the assignment?”
Bonita gave him an approving look.
For once, everyone returned their attention to the map.
The next location appeared.
A dead moon situated near the edge of a wormhole corridor.
Then a biological research station where plant life had begun growing through reinforced metal.
Then a planet where local fauna had developed crystalline organs.
Then an abandoned military outpost whose entire population had disappeared without leaving bodies.
Finally—
Earth.
The room became completely still.
Aryaan stared.
A restricted region appeared on the planet’s surface.
Small.
Almost insignificant compared with the vastness of Earth.
But Aryaan knew it.
His heart tightened.
“No.”
Mitchell looked at him.
“What?”
Aryaan stepped closer to the projection.
The region expanded.
“No.”
Bonita glanced at the coordinates.
“Do you know it?”
Aryaan didn’t answer.
He knew it.
He had spent years staring at his parents’ research files.
His father had specialised in planetary systems and deep-energy interactions.
His mother had worked on environmental anomalies and biological changes.
Together, they had become increasingly convinced that the devastation of Earth had not been entirely natural.
Their research had taken them into areas that most scientists considered theoretical at best.
Then they disappeared.
Aryaan had been young.
Too young to understand what disappearance really meant.
Too young to understand why adults stopped saying their names when he entered a room.
Too young to understand why Devdutt had suddenly begun spending more time at their home.
Too young to understand why his aunt and uncle stopped letting him listen to certain conversations.
But he remembered.
He remembered his father’s hands.
His mother’s voice.
The smell of old research equipment.
And the message.
Do not look for us.
A message that should have been a farewell.
Aryaan had interpreted it differently.
If they were dead, why tell him not to search?
If they wanted him to believe they were dead, why send anything at all?
He had built an entire belief around that question.
His parents were alive.
He had no evidence.
But he had something far more dangerous.
Hope.
Aryaan touched the holographic display.
“This region was in my parents’ research.”
Nobody spoke.
Ron stepped closer.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because I’ve seen it hundreds of times.”
Lane examined the coordinates.
Then his expression changed.
Aryaan noticed.
“What?”
Lane pointed.
“Look at the date.”
Aryaan’s eyes moved to the data.
The assignment had been generated that morning.
The environmental anomaly had been recorded three weeks earlier.
But the coordinate itself had been preserved in a separate archival database.
The archival timestamp was much older.
Decades older.
Aryaan’s pulse quickened.
“That’s impossible.”
Potter leaned forward.
“How old?”
Aryaan read the number.
His face lost some colour.
Ron looked at him.
“Aryaan?”
He didn’t answer.
The timestamp was from before Aryaan had been born.
Before his parents had disappeared.
Before the Academy had classified the region.
And, according to the available records, before the first officially recorded Orion activity in that part of space.
Aryaan straightened.
“Why is the Academy sending us there?”
Bonita looked at the assignment file.
“Maybe they don’t know.”
Aryaan shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the Academy doesn’t accidentally put classified coordinates into a graduation assignment.”
That silenced everyone.
Aryaan looked around the table.
“This isn’t a normal field exercise.”
Potter’s smile disappeared.
“Then what is it?”
Aryaan had no answer.
But he knew someone who might.
By the time they returned home, Ron had developed six theories.
Five involved aliens.
One involved the Academy secretly testing them.
Aryaan had rejected all six.
Ron considered this disrespectful.
Their residence was unusually quiet when they arrived.
That was the first warning.
The second was that Devdutt was sitting in the main room.
The third was that Devdutt’s sister was sitting opposite him.
The fourth was that her husband stood behind them with his arms folded.
The fifth was that nobody was eating.
That was never a good sign.
Ron stopped in the doorway.
“Okay.”
He looked at Aryaan.
“Who died?”
His aunt immediately glared at him.
Ron raised both hands.
“Bad opening. My bad.”
Aryaan entered.
“What’s happening?”
Devdutt looked at him.
“Come in.”
The three cousins entered.
Lane closed the door.
Ron remained standing.
His aunt looked at him.
“Sit.”
Ron sat.
Immediately.
Aryaan almost smiled.
Some things never changed.
Devdutt looked at the three boys.
“Your assignment has been released.”
“Yes,” Aryaan said.
“You have seen the locations.”
“Yes.”
“Which ones?”
Aryaan studied him.
“Why?”
Devdutt’s expression remained neutral.
“Because I am asking.”
Aryaan almost smiled.
There were many things Devdutt had taught him.
Negotiation was one of them.
And one of the first rules of negotiation was simple.
Never answer a question before understanding why it was asked.
“Earth,” Aryaan said.
Devdutt’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Aryaan saw it.
His aunt saw it too.
Her eyes shifted towards Devdutt.
Aryaan noticed.
So did Lane.
Ron didn’t.
Ron was currently staring at the food tray sitting on the side table.
His uncle noticed.
“Don’t.”
Ron looked offended.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“That is not a crime.”
“It is when you’re thinking about stealing food before dinner.”
Ron looked at Aryaan.
“Your uncle is scary.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“He’s your uncle too.”
Ron shrugged.
“Genetically, yes. Emotionally, I’m still processing.”
His aunt pointed towards the chair.
“Stay there.”
Ron sank deeper into it.
Devdutt finally spoke.
“You are not to investigate the Earth coordinates.”
Aryaan’s stomach tightened.
There it was.
Not a warning.
An order.
He looked at Devdutt.
“Why?”
“Because the Academy has assigned them for observation, not investigation.”
“The assignment specifically says investigation.”
Devdutt’s eyes narrowed.
Aryaan realised immediately that he had said too much.
His aunt looked at him.
“Who told you to investigate?”
“No one.”
“Then don’t.”
Aryaan leaned forward.
“Guruji, my parents—”
Devdutt’s voice hardened.
“Aryaan.”
The room became silent.
It was rare for Devdutt to use that tone.
Aryaan had heard it only a handful of times.
Every time, it meant something had gone badly wrong.
“Your parents are not part of your Academy assignment.”
“They disappeared while investigating Earth’s destruction.”
“I know.”
“So why is the Academy sending us to a location they studied?”
“I don’t know.”
Aryaan stared.
“You’re lying.”
His aunt inhaled sharply.
Ron looked from one adult to another.
Lane remained still.
Devdutt looked at Aryaan.
The older man’s expression was not angry.
That was worse.
“Aryaan.”
“Tell me.”
“Not here.”
Aryaan glanced around.
“Why not?”
Devdutt’s sister stood.
“Enough.”
Aryaan looked at her.
She rarely interrupted conversations between him and Devdutt.
This was different.
“You are all graduating,” she said.
“That means you’re old enough to ask difficult questions, but it doesn’t mean every answer belongs to you yet.”
Aryaan’s anger faltered.
His aunt continued.
“Your parents made choices before they disappeared. Some of those choices affected people besides themselves.”
Aryaan’s voice softened.
“Did they affect you?”
She didn’t answer.
That was an answer.
Lane looked at her.
“What about our parents?”
The room changed again.
Lane had spoken quietly.
His aunt looked at him.
Then at Ron.
For a moment, grief crossed her face.
“Your parents are not forgotten.”
Lane’s eyes remained on her.
Ron looked down.
Their fathers had been brothers.
Their families had once been close.
Aryaan’s mother and Lane and Ron’s mother had been sisters-in-law, friends and, according to old photographs, occasional conspirators in embarrassing family celebrations.
There had been birthdays.
Holidays.
Family meals.
Arguments over nothing.
The ordinary life that seemed almost impossible now.
Then the disappearances had happened.
Aryaan had lost his parents.
Lane and Ron had lost theirs.
Two families had become one household because there had been nobody else the boys trusted enough to call home.
Devdutt’s sister had never tried to replace their parents.
Neither had her husband.
They had done something harder.
They had allowed the boys to remember.
Aryaan had his mother’s books.
Lane kept an old tool belonging to his father.
Ron had a ridiculous recording of his parents laughing at something he had done as a child.
None of them spoke about those things often.
But they were there.
Proof that before the mystery, there had been people.
Not clues.
Not pieces of some grand conspiracy.
Parents.
A family.
Devdutt stood.
“Your assignment begins tomorrow.”
Aryaan looked at him.
“You’re still not telling me.”
“No.”
“Then I’m going.”
Devdutt’s eyes sharpened.
“To where?”
Aryaan held his gaze.
“Wherever the Academy sends us.”
Devdutt’s expression remained unreadable.
Aryaan added quietly:
“And if Earth is on that list, I’m going there.”
His aunt closed her eyes.
His uncle exhaled.
Ron whispered:
“Oh, this is going to be bad.”
A chime sounded from Ron’s communicator.
He looked down.
Potter’s face appeared in miniature above the device.
“Are you guys fighting?”
Ron immediately muted it.
Aryaan stared at him.
“Why was Potter listening?”
Ron shrugged.
“He called.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I did.”
“You left the connection open?”
“Apparently.”
Lane looked at him.
Ron sighed.
“Okay, maybe I have a problem.”
His aunt pointed towards the door.
“Everyone out.”
Ron stood.
“Are we being banished?”
“Yes.”
“Fair.”
The three cousins started towards the corridor.
Aryaan paused.
He turned back.
Devdutt was looking at the table.
Not at him.
At the table.
A small metallic disc rested beside Devdutt’s hand.
Aryaan had never seen it before.
It was almost black, with a faint golden pattern running across its surface.
The design was neither familiar nor entirely alien.
It seemed to shift whenever Aryaan looked directly at it.
Devdutt noticed his gaze.
He closed his hand over it.
Aryaan said nothing.
Neither did Devdutt.
Aryaan left.
The door closed.
The household fell silent.
Devdutt waited until the boys’ footsteps disappeared.
His sister looked at him.
“You should have told him.”
Devdutt continued staring at the closed door.
“Not yet.”
Her husband stepped closer.
“You knew the Academy would send them there.”
Devdutt didn’t answer.
His sister’s voice hardened.
“Devdutt.”
He finally looked at her.
“I suspected.”
“And now?”
Devdutt opened his hand.
The metallic disc lay in his palm.
Its surface was covered in symbols.
Not human.
Not Gaian.
Not Huaxian.
The pattern shifted.
A faint golden light moved through it like blood through veins.
His brother-in-law stared.
“Where did you get that?”
Devdutt’s eyes darkened.
“From the place where Aryaan’s coordinate appeared.”
His sister went pale.
“You went there?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Devdutt looked towards the corridor.
The boys were gone.
His voice dropped.
“Because I needed to know whether it was a coincidence.”
“And?”
Devdutt’s fingers closed around the disc.
“It wasn’t.”
His sister stepped closer.
“What did you find?”
Devdutt looked at her.
For once, the man who had spent decades teaching others how to control fear seemed unable to disguise his own.
“A signal.”
“From whom?”
Devdutt looked down at the disc.
“I don’t know.”
The surface illuminated again.
This time, the symbol was unmistakable.
A circular pattern enclosing three intersecting lines.
Devdutt had seen it before.
Years ago.
In the final research notes of Aryaan’s parents.
His sister stared at the symbol.
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes.”
“Those records were destroyed.”
“I know.”
“Then how—”
The disc emitted a sound.
Not a beep.
Not an alarm.
A whisper.
Three words emerged from its surface.
THE LOOP IS BROKEN.
Devdutt froze.
His brother-in-law stepped back.
His sister stared at him.
Devdutt’s face became grim.
“Then they were right.”
“Who?”
Devdutt looked towards the ceiling.
Far above them, Mokshabhumi continued its artificial night cycle.
Millions of people slept.
Ships travelled between the stations.
Workers returned home.
Children studied.
Life continued as though the universe were behaving exactly as it should.
But Devdutt knew better.
He had spent years investigating something that most people considered impossible.
The universe was not moving forward.
Not exactly.
It was moving according to a pattern.
A pattern so old that civilisations had mistaken it for natural law.
A temporal loop that made every event appear to follow the previous one in a straight line.
A structure maintained by forces no human instrument had yet been able to measure completely.
The Huaxians had given one part of it a name.
The scholars of Gaia had another.
The Academy dismissed it as theoretical.
Devdutt had spent years searching for evidence.
And now the evidence had found him.
His sister whispered:
“What does this mean?”
Devdutt looked again at the disc.
His answer came slowly.
“It means something has happened that should never have been possible.”
“What?”
Devdutt closed his fist.
“Someone has stepped outside the loop.”
Aryaan stood inside the elevator with Lane and Ron.
None of them spoke.
For once, Ron had no joke.
The elevator descended through Mokshabhumi’s residential levels, its transparent walls revealing the immense internal architecture of the station.
Artificial gardens passed above them.
Transit rails flashed by.
Mechanical maintenance units moved silently along the station’s structural ribs.
Farther out, through gaps between the residential sectors, Aryaan could see the vast skeleton of Mokshabhumi itself: concentric habitation rings, docking arms, gravity generators and enormous structural columns extending towards the station’s outer shell.
Beyond all of it lay the asteroid belt.
Stones.
Metal.
Darkness.
And stars.
Aryaan stared at his reflection in the transparent wall.
He could still hear Devdutt’s voice.
Do not investigate.
He had spent years being told not to search for his parents.
He had interpreted their final message as proof that they were alive.
Now the Academy had placed him on a path that seemed to intersect directly with their work.
He couldn’t ignore that.
He wouldn’t.
Lane stood beside him.
“What are you thinking?”
Aryaan looked at him.
“That Devdutt knows something.”
Lane nodded.
Ron finally spoke.
“That’s not exactly a revelation.”
Aryaan looked at him.
Ron shrugged.
“The man has been suspicious since we were children.”
Lane glanced at his twin.
Ron frowned.
“What?”
“You once accused him of being an alien.”
“He was acting weird.”
“You were six.”
“I was perceptive.”
“You tried to scan his head with a kitchen appliance.”
Ron considered this.
“Okay, that was less perceptive.”
Aryaan laughed.
The tension loosened.
Only slightly.
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
Their friends were waiting outside.
Potter immediately pointed at Ron.
“You left the communicator open.”
Ron pointed back.
“You were eavesdropping.”
“I was concerned.”
“You were nosy.”
“Those are synonyms.”
Bonita stepped between them.
“Can everyone stop behaving like children for five minutes?”
Ron looked offended.
“We’re Academy graduates.”
“Not yet.”
“Details.”
Aryaan walked past them.
Potter fell into step beside him.
“You’re thinking about Earth.”
Aryaan looked at him.
Potter’s smile had disappeared.
“Yeah.”
“Your parents?”
“Yeah.”
Potter nodded.
He didn’t ask anything else.
That was one of the reasons Aryaan trusted him.
Potter could be a clown.
He could be irritating.
He could deliberately provoke people simply to see what happened.
But when it mattered, he knew when to stop talking.
The group continued down the corridor.
Behind them, Lane and Sia were walking several steps apart.
Neither appeared particularly interested in the other.
Which was exactly why Ron noticed.
Ron slowed.
Aryaan immediately caught his arm.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.”
Ron looked offended.
“You’re making assumptions.”
“You once asked Sia whether Dracodian wings were waterproof.”
Ron looked at him.
“They are waterproof.”
Sia, several steps ahead, turned.
“They are.”
Ron looked triumphant.
Aryaan stared at him.
“Why did you ask?”
Ron hesitated.
Sia’s mouth twitched.
Lane looked away.
Potter noticed.
Potter’s eyes widened.
Then he smiled.
Aryaan saw it.
“Don’t.”
Potter immediately became innocent.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
Potter looked at Ron.
Then at Lane.
Then at Sia.
Then back at Aryaan.
“I’m suddenly fascinated by silence.”
“Good.”
The group continued walking.
No one noticed the tiny distortion that appeared briefly in the corridor’s glass.
No one noticed the reflection of a person who wasn’t there.
No one noticed the three lines that appeared in the reflection before disappearing.
Except Lane.
He stopped.
Aryaan stopped too.
Ron walked another three steps before turning.
“What now?”
Lane was staring at the glass.
Aryaan followed his gaze.
Nothing.
Only their reflections.
Eight young people.
Eight silhouettes.
And behind them—
For less than a heartbeat—
A ninth.
Aryaan’s breath caught.
The figure stood directly behind him.
Tall.
Thin.
Motionless.
Its face was impossible to see.
Aryaan turned.
There was nobody there.
Ron stared at him.
“What?”
Aryaan looked back at the glass.
Nothing.
Potter frowned.
“Did you see something?”
Aryaan hesitated.
He could have said no.
Instead, he looked at Lane.
Lane gave the smallest nod.
Aryaan’s skin prickled.
“Yes.”
Ron immediately stepped closer.
“What?”
Aryaan stared at the empty corridor.
“I don’t know.”
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then stabilised.
Somewhere deep beneath Mokshabhumi, the metallic disc in Devdutt’s hand pulsed again.
And somewhere far beyond the visible universe, something that had been waiting for a very long time finally became aware that Aryaan had seen it.
The first move had been made.
Neither side yet knew the other’s name.
But the game had begun.