---Red---

I wake with a scream, sweat dampening my face and sticking my hair to my forehead. My heart pounds against my ribs like a war drum, the echo of a nightmare clinging to me as I sit up in bed. For a second, I don't even know where I am. The dark room feels oppressive, the shadows stretching unnaturally. I shake my head, trying to clear the fog.

The images haunt me: Domnik, standing there in the gloom, his eyes hollow, his expression torn between defiance and despair. His hand grips the hilt of the Darkblade. It radiates its dark, ominous energy, the flames licking up the blade as if it's alive. Then, blood. Domnik falls, his body crumpling like a discarded marionette, and in his place stands Dreadwind, his laughter cold and empty.

I rub my temples, willing the dream to fade, but it doesn't. It feels more like a warning than a simple nightmare. Could Dreadwind have killed Domnik? Stolen the Darkblade from him? I can't shake the thought.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and grab the red scarf from the nightstand, wrapping it loosely around my neck as I head for the door. Sleep isn't coming back tonight.

The lights of the living room are low, a soft glow illuminating the figures of Alyse, Kat, and Keegan sitting on the couch. They're talking in hushed tones, the kind of late-night chatter that feels heavier after a day like the one we just had. Alyse looks up as I enter, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asks.

I shake my head and drop into the armchair across from them. "Nightmare," I say simply, running a hand through my damp hair. "What about you guys?"

Kat shrugs. "Figured we'd debrief in the quiet hours," she says, her tone casual, but there's an edge to it. "You missed all the fun while you were out cold. Keegan and I ran into Space Force agents at the crash site."

Keegan leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "That's not even the craziest part," he says. "There was... something. A void energy coming from that ship. Something way darker than anything I've ever felt before."

I sit up straighter, my attention fully on him now. "Darker? How?"

Keegan shakes his head. "I don't even know how to describe it. It wasn't just void energy-it felt corrupted, like something worse was lurking inside it."

"Space Force agents were all over the site," Kat adds. "They're already pulling the humans into this mess."

I exhale sharply, leaning back. "Glad you two are okay," I say. "But if the government's getting involved, we need to cover our tracks. We need code names-something they can't trace back to Smith Inc. If they connect the dots, it could lead to all of us being exposed."

Kat grins. "The three of us already have ours," she says, motioning to Keegan and I.

Alyse nods thoughtfully. "Dylan likes 'Astralis,'" she says. "He's been talking about it forever."

"I've always liked Arc Angel," Alyse adds after a pause. "A bard on Naurus gave me the name a long time ago."

Kat raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Angel suits you, Alyse," she says.

Before Alyse can respond, Hail steps into the room, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Code names?" he asks, his tone dripping with amusement. "That's stupid. I'll stick with my real name."

The rest of us laugh, and I nod.

"Hail's already a fitting alias," Kat says.

Before the conversation can continue, the elevator chimes, and Kylen, Claire, and Dylan step into the room.

"What's this about code names?" Dylan asks, grinning. "Please tell me I finally get to use 'Astralis.'"

"You do," I say. "And yes, you'll finally get a costume to match."

Dylan pumps his fist in triumph, and Kylen smirks. "I'll go with 'Aegis,'" Kylen says.

Claire tilts her head, thinking for a moment. "Remedy has a nice ring to it," she says. "That's what Kat called me the other night."

I nod, jotting everything down. "Well, that was surprisingly easy," I say.

Hail steps forward, his expression turning serious. "What's next? We need a way to draw out Dreadwind. Face him together, figure out his motives-or take him down for good."

I glance at him. "His motives are already clear-he wants the DragonsBreath."

Hail narrows his eyes. "Maybe. Or maybe he's working for someone else. Keegan mentioned that void energy at the crash site-what if this ties back to Vermidia?"

The name hangs heavy in the air. Alyse nods. "We need to find a way to lure him out," she says.

Kylen straightens. "Agreed. But I need to get back to work on the portal while my ideas are still fresh. Call me if you come up with a plan."

"I'll head to the crash site," Alyse offers. "Smith Inc. has enough pull to get me access. Maybe the scientists missed something."

Kylen nods. "Good idea. The government won't block Smith Inc. involvement outright-not with their reliance on our tech."

As Kylen, Claire, and Dylan leave for the lab, Hail stops Claire on the roof, murmuring an apology for his drunken behavior recently. I can't hear what they're saying, but the way she pats his arm and walks away suggests she's forgiven him.

I linger in the elevator until after the helicopter takes off. As I step out, pretending not to have heard anything Hail said, he stands nearby, staring into the distance.

"Can't sleep either?" I ask, stepping up beside him.

He shakes his head. "Too much on my mind."

"Same," I admit, sinking down onto the ledge to write in my notebook.

"You should be coming up with a plan to draw out Dreadwind," Hail says, glancing at me.

"I can't think straight," I reply. "My head's too cluttered."

Hail nods, as if understanding. "I need another drink."

"Look um-I'm sorry for what I said. But you've got to admit, there's truth to it." I say as he walks away.

Hail freezes in place. "Clearly." He says as he glances back for a second.

He then turns back to the elevator and leaves, and I'm left alone with the stars and my swirling thoughts.

---Alyse---

The sun barely peeks over the horizon as I step out of the car, Smith Inc. badge clipped to my coat and a tablet in hand. The crash site is a chaotic hub of activity, with Space Force agents swarming the area like ants over sugar. The air smells of burnt metal and scorched earth, and the faint hum of scanning equipment fills the silence of the early morning.

I approach the perimeter, where two guards in sharp navy uniforms block my path. One of them eyes me suspiciously as I flash my badge.

"Alyse Smith, Smith Incorporated. I'm taking over the investigation," I say, keeping my tone professional.

The guard hesitates, but after a brief exchange on his radio, he steps aside, and I walk into the heart of the scene. The wreckage is worse up close-twisted metal scattered across the ground, blackened edges still faintly glowing in some places. I make a mental note: this isn't a typical crash.

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Before I can take a step closer, a commanding voice cuts through the noise.

"Ms. Smith," says General Stellen, the Chief of Space Operations, as he strides toward me. His polished boots crunch against the gravel, and his piercing gaze is locked on mine. "Care to explain why Smith Inc. seems so interested in this incident?"

I meet his glare without flinching. "General, Smith Inc. has a vested interest in aerospace technology. We provide half of the military's spacecraft. Naturally, we want to ensure nothing here compromises our contracts-or national security."

"Funny," he says, crossing his arms. "This ship's design looks suspiciously close to some of your prototypes. Care to comment on that?"

"It's not ours," I reply firmly. "We'd know if it was."

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I wonder if he's about to arrest me on the spot. But then he smirks, the kind of smirk that makes your skin crawl.

"If I find out Smith Inc. is hiding anything, I won't hesitate to tear your company apart," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "For your sake, I hope you're telling the truth."

I keep my expression neutral. "We have nothing to hide, General. Good day."

He doesn't reply, just turns and walks away, barking orders at his team. I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and focus on the task at hand.

I pull out my tablet and begin scanning the wreckage. The readings are... unusual. The void energy Keegan mentioned is faint but unmistakable, clinging to the ship like a dark stain. It's different from anything I've seen before-more refined, almost purposeful.

My tablet beeps, alerting me to a signal buried deep in the ship's core. It's encrypted, a series of fragmented codes that make no sense on their own. I try to decode it on the spot, but it's beyond me.

"Kat's going to love this," I mutter, uploading the data to the Smith Inc. servers.

As I move to the back of the ship, something else catches my eye. The scorch marks around the crash site aren't consistent with an atmospheric entry. They're too deliberate, too precise, almost as if the ship was forced down by... something.

I kneel, running my fingers over the charred earth. This wasn't an accident.

Straightening up, I glance toward the Space Force agents still combing the wreckage. They're thorough, but they won't see what I see. If we're going to get answers, it's going to have to be us.

I snap a few more pictures, save my notes, and turn back to my car. As I drive away, the pieces swirl in my mind like a puzzle with too many missing parts. Void energy. Encrypted signals. Deliberate destruction.

Whoever brought this ship down didn't just want to make a statement-they wanted to send a message.

And I'm going to figure out what it is.

---Kat---

The dim glow of the computer screen lights up the small study room Keegan and I have commandeered for the morning. Stacks of papers and open files clutter the desk, and Keegan's tapping on the keyboard echoes in the otherwise quiet space.

"This is insane," I mutter, scrolling through the data Alyse just sent over. "Void energy readings this high? I've never seen anything like it."

Keegan leans back in his chair, his fingers running through his messy hair. "I have. Once. But this?" He gestures at the screen, his voice lower. "This feels darker, heavier. Whatever powered that ship wasn't meant to exist here."

I glance at him, studying his face. There's something uneasy in his tone, like this energy hit him on a deeper level.

"You think it's connected to... her?" I ask, careful not to say Vermidia's name aloud.

He shrugs but doesn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Maybe. Or maybe it's something worse. I don't know."

That answer doesn't sit well with me. Keegan's always the one with the answers-or at least the confidence to fake them. Seeing him this unsure makes my skin crawl.

We sit in silence for a while, the hum of the computer filling the air. I sift through the files Alyse uploaded, but the information feels like gibberish. Scans of the ship's wreckage, fragmented codes, and strange readings I can't make heads or tails of.

"This is a dead end," I say, leaning back and crossing my arms. "We don't have enough to go on."

Keegan nods slowly. "Maybe. But it's something. And something is better than nothing."

I sigh, stretching my arms over my head, when a thought crosses my mind. "Actually... I do have something else that might interest you."

He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's that?"

I reach into my bag and pull out a folder, sliding it across the desk toward him. "Thought you might want to see this."

Keegan eyes it warily before flipping it open. His expression shifts instantly-confusion, then shock, then something deeper.

"Where did you get this?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

"Smith Inc.," I reply, leaning forward. "Apparently, they've been keeping tabs on all of us. That's your dad's address."

Keegan's jaw tightens, and for a moment, he just stares at the paper. Then, without a word, he stands and heads for the door.

"Keegan-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"I've been looking for him for three years, Kat," he says, his tone sharp. "And Red knew. Kylen knew. They knew, and they didn't tell me."

Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Red steps into the room.

Keegan's eyes narrow as he turns to face him. "You knew about my dad this whole time? You had him followed?"

Red doesn't flinch under Keegan's glare. He folds his arms and nods. "Yeah, I did. We had to know where everyone's families were, in case... something happened."

"That's your excuse?" Keegan snaps. "I've been searching for him for years, and you didn't think to tell me?"

Red's expression softens slightly, but his voice stays calm. "I didn't say anything because I figured you wouldn't like what you found."

Keegan clenches his fists, his frustration clear. He glares at Red for another second before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

Red exhales heavily and turns to me. "Go after him. Make sure he's okay."

I grab my jacket and nod. "Yeah. Someone's got to make sure he doesn't do something stupid."

Red watches me go, his expression unreadable. As I step into the hall, I can't help but wonder: if Keegan's dad really is here in the city, what kind of answers-or questions-will he find?

---Claire---

The soft hum of my computer fills the silence in the room, broken only by the faint clicking of keys under my fingertips. Rows of data scroll across the screen, each line more fascinating and frustrating than the last. Alyse's research-raw, dense, and meticulous-has me hooked. Her brilliance is undeniable, but deciphering her thought process is a puzzle in and of itself.

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples as I try to make sense of the latest set of readings. Energy spikes, strange gravitational shifts, and... I stop, my eyes narrowing on the screen. There it is again: the same dark void energy Keegan mentioned, only now it's tethered to something new. My hand instinctively moves to the keyboard, pulling up the satellite feed. The map of Earth loads in sluggishly, but the new signal pops out like a beacon-bright, erratic, and moving.

"Kylen, you're going to want to see this," I call out. My voice is calm, but my heart is racing.

Kylen appears in the doorway moments later, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. "What is it?" he asks, his tone clipped but curious.

I gesture to the screen. "Alyse's data just got a lot more interesting. The energy signature from the crashed ship isn't isolated. It's tied to another one. And this one?" I point at the screen, tracing the signal's erratic path. "It's coming in hot. Should hit somewhere in Utah by tomorrow."

Kylen steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he studies the display. His silence is telling. He's piecing it together, weighing the options. When he finally speaks, there's a determined edge to his voice. "We need to move on this. If it's anything like the last ship..."

"I know." I've already run the simulations in my head. "But there's good news. It's still a day out. We have time to prepare."

Kylen nods, but his focus shifts, already planning ahead. "I'll get the team together. Where's Dylan?"

"Still in the lab," I reply. "He's been glued to the portal project ever since we got back. I think he's making progress, but you know how he is, he's as bad as you."

Kylen lets out a short laugh, more exhale than amusement. "Yeah, stubborn as ever. I'll fill him in. You keep monitoring the signal. Let me know if anything changes."

"Of course." My eyes are already back on the screen, analyzing the signal's trajectory, but I hear him turn and leave the room.

The air feels heavier now, thick with the weight of what we're walking into. There's no telling what this ship holds or who-or what-might be onboard. But one thing is certain: it's not here for a friendly visit.

I glance at the clock in the corner of the screen. Less than twenty-four hours. The countdown has started, and so have the stakes. All we can do now is stay ahead of whatever's coming.

---Kylen---

The hum of the servers fills the room as Claire and I make our way to Dylan's workspace. The faint glow of his equipment casts long shadows, giving the place an otherworldly feel-fitting, considering the work he's been doing. Dylan's hunched over his desk, his fingers weaving intricate commands on a glowing keyboard. His focus is razor-sharp, as always.

"Dylan," I call out, my voice cutting through the ambient hum. He doesn't flinch, just finishes typing before turning his gaze toward us.

"Found something?" he asks, leaning back in his chair.

Claire steps forward, handing him a tablet. "The void energy signature from the crash Alyse investigated. My satellites picked up another signal that matches it. This one's incoming."

Dylan scans the data, his eyes narrowing. "How close?"

"Close enough," Claire says. "It'll be in the Utah desert by tomorrow."

Dylan sets the tablet down and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Another ship. Sounds fantastic. What's the plan?"

"We need to rally everyone," I say. "Get them there before the government starts sniffing around. We can't afford a repeat of last time."

Dylan nods but hesitates. "Yeah, but I need to stay back. The portal-" He gestures to the intricate machinery around him. "It's not ready yet, but I'm close. Really close. I need to finish it."

I exchange a look with Claire, who shrugs. "We could handle this without you," I say carefully. "But I'd rather have you out there with us."

"I'll keep working here drone," Dylan insists. "You go. Take the team. I'll update you as soon as I have something."

His tone leaves no room for argument. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. But stay in contact. If something changes, I want to know immediately."

"Yeah, yeah, you will," Dylan promises.

I glance at Claire, who's already pulling up logistics on her tablet. "Let's go. We've got a lot of people to wrangle."

As we leave, I can't shake the uneasy feeling crawling up my spine. Another crash, another unknown, and our team spread thin across their personal messes. I've seen things spiral out of control before, and this feels eerily similar.

"Kylen," Claire says as we step into the hallway, her tone soft but insistent. "You think we'll make it in time?"

"We don't have a choice," I reply, keeping my pace brisk. "Let's get to it."