Above the newly revealed world, the void hesitated.
The first presences arrived like hunters scenting blood, only to find the trail vanish under their feet. They had felt the presence of people for a heartbeat, and then it was gone again as if the universe had changed its mind.
More arrived.
Bright signatures, heavy ones, quiet ones.
None of them spoke aloud. In the void, voices were luxury. Intent was cheaper.
And intent was everywhere.
A new world meant resources.
A new world meant growth.
A new world meant leverage.
The presences kept distance from each other. Not because they feared battle but because they understood the rule of first contact.
When a prize appears, allies are simply enemies who have not decided what angle to bite from.
One presence drifted closer to where the world had been, probing the empty space with a patient pressure.
Another answered with a sharper pressure, warning it off.
A third arrived, and the air around it tasted like sanctified steel.
