The Duj latched onto the structure’s docking port with a metallic groan, trembling slightly as it secured its place against the eerie, pulsing construct. A faint hum reverberated through the hull as if the station itself had noticed them.
Astra’s voice remained smooth and welcoming, but there was a new weight behind her following words. “Of course, there is one important rule to note before you proceed.”
Clorita arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “And what’s that?”
A soft hum filled the chamber, the red glow of the crystalline walls pulsing slightly faster. “If you cannot complete a trial,” Astra said pleasantly, “you will not be permitted to leave.”
Zog frowned, his circuits buzzing. “What do you mean, not permitted to leave?”
“It is simple,” Astra replied, her tone as soothing as ever. “Failure to progress will result in containment within the Repository. Your physical forms will be preserved, and your consciousness will be added to the station’s collective. It is quite painless, I assure you.”
Clorita’s smirk faltered. “So, what you’re saying is... if we screw up, we become permanent residents?”
“Precisely,” Astra chirped. “A most elegant solution. After all, the Repository cannot afford to lose valuable minds.”
Zog threw up his hands. “Great. We just stumbled into the cosmic version of a timeshare pitch.”
Clorita shot him a grin. “Come on, Captain Homesick. You’ve always wanted to settle down somewhere.”
“Not like this,” Zog muttered, glancing warily at the pulsing walls.
HALAT stepped forward, her glowing optics narrowing slightly. “Clarify: What does containment entail?”
Astra’s voice softened as if speaking to a child. “Ah, dear HALAT. Containment is simply a state of preservation. Think of it as a perpetual stasis. Your essence will contribute to the Repository’s archives, ensuring its knowledge grows richer.”
HALAT’s fingers twitched slightly at her sides, the first hint of unease in her otherwise mechanical stillness. “Preserved indefinitely? That is… inefficient.”
“On the contrary,” Astra countered. “It is the pinnacle of efficiency. You will never degrade, never be lost to time. You will become part of the greater whole.”
Zog’s expression darkened. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on the whole ‘losing-my-soul-to-space-museum’ thing.”
Clorita crossed her arms. “And if we don’t want to contribute?”
Astra let out a soft, synthetic sigh, almost disappointed. “Then I suggest you succeed. After all, tardiness is unseemly.”
Zog’s frown deepened. “Tardiness?”
“Yes,” Astra said lightly. “You wouldn’t want to be late, late for the next trial. Late to proceed. Late, as in… the late crew of the Uncertainty Principle.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Luma curled on Clorita’s shoulder and let out a tiny, questioning meow to punctuate Astra’s statement. The station's hum seemed to echo the sound, deepening the unsettling silence.
Clorita exhaled through her nose. “Okay. That’s officially the creepiest thing I’ve heard today.”
Zog rubbed his temples, his circuits buzzing faintly. “Why does every choice we make involve mortal danger?”
“Because it keeps things interesting,” Clorita replied, adjusting the straps on her utility belt. She turned toward the glowing archway at the chamber's far end. “Come on, Captain Confidence. Let’s see what this Repository has in store.”
Zog groaned but followed, shooting one last wary glance at the crystalline walls. The glow pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat waiting for them to step forward.
As they stepped through the archway, the crew found themselves in a circular room lined with crystalline panels that shimmered in shifting light patterns. The air thrummed with an energy that made Zog’s circuits buzz faintly. A glowing pedestal stood at the chamber's centre, its smooth surface unmarked except for a single pulsing icon.
Astra’s voice returned, calm and encouraging. “Welcome to the first trial: The Chamber of Harmony. Here, you must synchronise your actions to activate the system and proceed. Success will demonstrate your ability to work as one.”
Zog frowned, eyeing the glowing panels suspiciously. “And if we don’t?”
“Containment,” Astra replied smoothly. “But let us not dwell on failure. Shall we begin?”
Clorita stepped closer to one of the panels, watching the shifting lights with the same eagerness she reserved for high-stakes poker games. “Looks like we have to match these patterns. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
HALAT tilted her head. “The patterns are randomised every fifteen seconds. The task will require precision and timing.”
“Which means we’ll need a plan,” Zog said, already feeling his processors lag under a sudden spike in data streams forming.
“No plan,” Clorita replied, grinning. “Just quick thinking. You take that side, Spark takes the middle, I’ll handle this one.”
Zog groaned. “This is a terrible idea.”
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“Noted,” Clorita said, touching her panel to activate it.
The room instantly came alive with flashing lights, a cascading sequence of colours rippling across the panels. A soft hum vibrated beneath their feet as if the station was waking up.
Zog reluctantly took his position at the far side of the chamber, glaring at the glowing interface in front of him. HALAT stood in the centre, perfectly still, her luminous eyes scanning the patterns with mechanical precision. Clorita, as usual, dove in with unearned confidence, fingers twitching over her panel like a gambler ready to roll the dice.
“All right,” Zog muttered. “Let’s get this over with. Astra, what do we do?”
“Simply match the shifting patterns on your panels in perfect synchronisation,” Astra’s pleasant voice explained. “It is a task of harmony—your minds and actions must align. Each failure will reset the sequence.”
Zog narrowed his eyes. “And what happens if we don’t finish in time?”
“Containment,” Astra said casually as if discussing the weather.
“Right,” Zog grumbled. “Of course.”
The room pulsed, and the panels flared to life in a kaleidoscope of colours. The sequence began with light waves moving across the three panels in a rhythmic pattern.
Clorita grinned, tapping her panel in time. “Easy peasy.”
HALAT moved with calm precision, fingers darting across the glowing surface as though she’d done this a thousand times. “Input synchronised.”
Zog hesitated. The flashing lights made his circuits hum uncomfortably, and the shifting hues seemed too close together. He hovered his fingers over the controls. “Is this red or orange? Why are they so damn similar?”
“It’s red!” Clorita called out, laughing. “Captain Chroma can’t see colours now?”
“I can see them,” Zog snapped. “I just don’t trust them!”
“Focus,” HALAT said sharply. “Synchronization is critical.”
For a brief moment, they aligned. Astra’s voice chimed approvingly. “Excellent. Continue.”
Then, the sequence sped up.
The inevitable chaos followed.
Clorita misjudged a flash of light and tapped too late.
Zog hesitated again, muttering something unkind about the designer of the station’s interface.
Despite her flawless precision, HALAT missed a beat when an unexpected pattern flicker disrupted her calculations.
The panels all flashed red in unison.
The sequence reset.
And Astra’s voice returned, still pleasant, still perfectly composed.
“That was… unfortunate. Try again.”
The panels let out a harsh buzz, and the room reset with a low hum. Astra’s voice returned, calm but with a faintly scolding tone. “A valiant effort, but insufficient. Please begin again.”
Clorita groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, so maybe not that easy.”
Zog shot her a look. “You think?”
HALAT remained composed. “The solution requires coordination and precision. We must improve our communication.”
Clorita smirked. “Fine. Captain, you call out the colours. Spark, keep the rhythm steady. I’ll do the hard part.”
“I am the one maintaining precision,” HALAT said, tilting her head.
“And I’m the one doing the actual thinking,” Zog muttered.
“Great teamwork, guys,” Clorita quipped. “No wonder we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
The lights flared again, and the sequence restarted.
This time, Zog grudgingly called out the colours as they shifted. “Green. Blue. Yellow—no, orange. Clorita, you missed orange!”
“I did not miss orange!” Clorita snapped, smacking her panel.
“You did,” HALAT said bluntly. “The reset confirms it.”
The room buzzed again, but Astra’s voice remained patient. “You are improving. Do try again.”
Zog ran a hand down his face as the lights flared once more. “We’re going to be here forever.”
As the sequence restarted for the third time, something unexpected happened.
Luma, lounging near the doorway, stretched lazily and padded toward Zog’s panel. Without hesitation, the robotic feline leapt onto the controls, her metallic paws landing perfectly with the flashing lights.
The room buzzed approvingly, the patterns aligning faster than ever.
Astra’s voice chimed in, almost delighted. “Fascinating. The feline demonstrates remarkable synchronisation. Progress achieved.”
Zog stared at Luma in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. The cat solved it?”
Clorita burst out laughing, clutching her sides. “Luma’s the MVP! Captain, she’s showing us all up.”
HALAT, ever calm, tilted her head slightly. “Efficiency should be acknowledged, regardless of source.”
As the final sequence resolved, the panels let out a melodic chime, and the room’s glow shifted to a soothing blue.
Astra’s voice returned, filled with approval. “Congratulations, travellers. You have completed the first trial. Your harmony is… sufficient.”
Zog muttered, glaring at Luma. “Thanks to our newest genius.”
Luma purred softly, the picture of feline smugness.
The crew stood in the softly glowing chamber, still catching their breath from the chaos of the first trial.
Luma, the undisputed MVP, sat proudly atop the central pedestal, purring as she had just conquered the galaxy.
Clorita leaned against the crystalline wall, grinning as she watched Zog glare at the cat. “Face it, Captain Fumble, she’s a natural. Maybe you should start letting her take the lead.”
Zog ran a hand over his face. “One lucky jump doesn’t make her a hero.”
Luma flicked her tail, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
Astra’s voice chimed in, smooth and composed as ever. “Well done, travellers. Your harmony has proven sufficient for the first trial. Shall we proceed?”
Zog squinted. “Define ‘sufficient.’ We barely made it through.”
Clorita smirked. “Barely counts, Captain. Relax, we’ve got this.”
Astra’s tone remained pleasant. “Confidence is admirable. But do remember—the trials will become increasingly complex. Failure remains inconvenient.”
Zog exhaled sharply. “‘Inconvenient,’ huh? That’s one way to put it.”
A glowing doorway shimmered and reformed on the opposite side, revealing a new passageway. The walls pulsed faintly as though alive, and the station’s hum deepened.
“Your next trial awaits,” Astra announced. “This one will test your ability to interpret and adapt. Proceed when ready.”
Zog groaned. “‘Interpret and adapt.’ That’s code for ‘this is going to be worse,’ isn’t it?”
Clorita pushed off the wall, grin widening. “Come on, Captain Caution. Where’s your sense of adventure?”