It had been days since Marcus agreed to travel to the Topaz Star with Alyx, yet they still hadn't left. Marcus had delayed their departure, stating he needed more time to "recover from what happened."

Alyx had pressed him for details, but Marcus never gave her a full explanation. There were things he couldn't—wouldn't—describe. However, over one of their shared meals in the ship's dining quarters, Marcus finally told her what he could about his powers. His constant tapping echoed softly through the room, a steady beat.

"How did you get this power?" Alyx asked, her curiosity barely contained. "How can you move through time like that?"

"That information dies with me," Marcus replied bluntly. He had no intention of letting anyone experience what he had gone through. The idea of someone else gaining this power—especially if it fell into the wrong hands—was terrifying. Some things were better left unsaid.

Alyx was captivated by his abilities, constantly asking him for demonstrations. Marcus obliged, feeling a deep sense of debt toward her. Without Alyx pulling him out of that void, he didn't even want to think about what might have happened. He owed her more than he could ever repay.

Lately, Marcus wore his mask for more than just the translation of words. It helped hide something else—something far more sinister. There was a presence lurking just at the edge of his vision. He couldn't say when it had appeared—whether it had always been there or if it was a byproduct of the nightmare he had experienced in the void. It didn't have a distinct shape or colour, but it was there, a formless shadow watching him. The mask's display shielded him from it, but only barely.

Alyx studied Marcus intently. She had never encountered anyone quite like him. His ability to manipulate time, his eerie story of simply walking out of a Finisterra prison—it all felt supernatural. She was fascinated by his power, though she couldn't shake the feeling that Marcus was holding back, keeping something hidden.

Since that night he had disappeared from the control room and she found him screaming on the floor of the sleeping quarters, Marcus had stayed close to her. The tapping never ceased. It echoed through every quiet moment, and she wasn't sure if Marcus ever slept. Did he even need to? He had explained that the tapping kept him grounded, a way to maintain consistency in time.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Marcus clung to Alyx's presence. He feared that if he wandered too far and the darkness claimed him again, there would be no one to pull him back this time. That fear had forged a new bond between them over the past few days. Marcus began sharing more about his past, his life on the mineroid, and the isolation he had endured. In return, Alyx opened up about her time in the Freehand Collective, how she and her crewmates had been attacked and slaughtered by the people who once owned this very ship. She told Marcus about the months of torment, and how, without realising it, he had saved her from them.

Though Alyx was eager to return to the Topaz Star, to reunite with her family and the rebellion, she understood Marcus's need for recovery. Whatever had happened to him that night had shaken him to his core, and she could see that fear still gripped him.

Despite his reluctance, Alyx pressed Marcus most days. She noticed something different this morning—he seemed to hesitate before declining once again. Maybe he was close to being ready, she wondered.

They sat in the common room, a space less cramped than the rest of the ship, with chairs and tables scattered around. It was the most open and comfortable part of the vessel, and Alyx appreciated its airiness compared to the claustrophobic corridors.

"How are you feeling today? Better than yesterday?" Alyx asked, the question part of their daily ritual.

Marcus offered the familiar reply, "Better than yesterday." But this time, he added, "Sorry we haven't left yet."

"It's alright, I understand," Alyx reassured him. "I just wish you'd tell me what really happened that night."

"I know... but I don't even fully understand what it was," Marcus muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"You don't have to explain what it was," she said gently. "Just tell me what happened. Maybe we can figure it out together."

Marcus hesitated, but there was something in her voice—a trust he couldn't ignore. "Alright, you're right. Maybe it'll help," he finally agreed.

He recounted the experience: the return of that piercing screech, the terrifying visions, the cryptic whispers, the older version of himself, and the sinister entity that still haunted the edges of his vision, watching him.

Alyx listened intently, her chest tightening with empathy. "No wonder you were so scared. But remember, you're here now. In the real world," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she fought back a tear. "And I'm right by your side."

Marcus nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. "I know. And thank you. I don't even want to think about what would've happened if you hadn't been there. It wouldn't have been good," he said, realising how much Alyx's presence had come to mean to him.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, almost out of nowhere, Marcus spoke again. "We can leave tomorrow."

"Really?!" Alyx's face lit up with optimism, her voice filled with hope. "You won't regret it. The Topaz Star really is wonderful."

Marcus managed a small smile. "I look forward to it."