Chapter 4: Echoes of the Unknown
The morning came thin and gray, the kind of light that made everything look half-formed, as if the moon itself was unsure whether it wanted to wake. Aela stepped out of her tent, still pulling on her gloves, the cold biting at her fingertips despite her suit's thermal lining. The camp was alive with movement—engineers hunched over scanners, analysts passing around datapads, Captain Jora barking instructions with her usual clipped intensity.
But beneath all that noise was the silence. The same heavy, humming silence that seemed to bleed from the Cradle itself, as if it were holding its breath.
Aela found Khorin hunched beside a console, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion. He looked up when she approached.
"You didn't sleep either," he said.
She shook her head. "Couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it again. That voice."
Khorin gave a weak, understanding nod. "You're not the only one having nightmares. Jora's been up all night running simulations."
As if summoned, Jora appeared behind them, holding a datapad covered in swirling graphs. "Aela. Khorin. Come with me."
They followed her into the command tent where a holographic projection of the Cradle hovered above the central table. The image flickered, each pulse matching the strange rhythm Aela now recognized inside herself.
Jora pointed at the projection. "The Cradle's energy levels have stabilized, but there's something new. Something we didn't see immediately after the surge."
She tapped a sequence. The projection zoomed inward, revealing thin lines—pathways—threaded through the Cradle like veins.
"These channels weren't visible before," Jora said. "It's as if the Cradle… reconfigured itself."
Aela leaned closer. The pathways glowed faintly, tracing patterns that felt eerily familiar. She didn't know why until she saw the shape they formed: a spiral, branching into two mirrored directions.
A choice.
Her stomach tightened.
Khorin frowned. "So it's alive and… rearranging itself. Fantastic."
Jora crossed her arms. "What concerns me is that we're detecting low-frequency signals coming from inside. Not just energy surges—communication attempts."
Aela's pulse quickened. "From the beings?"
"Possibly." Jora hesitated, then lowered her voice. "Aela… some of those signals match the neurological patterns we recorded from your suit after you came out of the Cradle."
Khorin's eyes widened. "Wait, are you saying the Cradle is trying to communicate with her specifically?"
Aela felt heat rise in her cheeks, though it wasn't embarrassment—it was fear. And something else. A pull. The same pull she felt the moment she stepped inside.
"I don't think it ever stopped," Aela whispered.
Before Jora could respond, the ground trembled. Not violently—more like a shiver passing beneath their feet. The hologram flickered, and every console in the tent beeped in unison.
"What now?" Khorin groaned.
Jora scanned her datapad, her expression darkening. "We just detected a burst of energy from beneath the Cradle. Something's unlocking."
Aela felt it—like a pressure building behind her eyes. A pulse of thought not her own.
Return.
The word echoed inside her skull, soft but unmistakable.
She staggered back, pressing a hand to her temple.
"Aela?" Khorin grabbed her arm. "You okay?"
"It's calling me," she managed. "I heard it again. It wants me to come back."
Jora exhaled sharply. "Absolutely not. We're still analyzing the risks. No one is entering the Cradle until—"
The ground trembled again, harder this time. An alarm blared from the station outside. A voice crackled through comms:
"Captain! We've got activity at the Cradle—surface breach forming!"
Aela's heart pounded. She knew, deep in her bones, that the Cradle wasn't attacking.
It was inviting.
Jora cursed under her breath. "Everyone move! Now!"
As the team rushed from the tent, Aela lingered a moment, staring toward the direction of the Cradle. The glow on the horizon was brighter now, unmistakably alive.
The choice she'd been warned about wasn't coming.
It was here.