The Rusty Glider drifted through a corridor of dust and frozen lightning. The nebula outside was quiet, but inside the ship the air hummed—low, constant, alive.
Li Feng's reflection in the cockpit glass wasn't quite his own anymore. The Forge had deepened the shadows around his eyes, sharpened the lines of his face. Every movement carried a faint shimmer, as though reality bent a fraction of a second behind him.
He followed the phantom trail the Forge had shown him—down through the narrow spine of the ship, past humming conduits and cables that pulsed like veins.
There, the Forge whispered, a voice made of heat and static. Beneath the metal. Beneath the lie.
He stopped at the maintenance bay door. Locked.
"Open," he said.
Silence.
Then a voice from the other side: "You shouldn't be here."
Li Feng stepped forward, hand on the panel. "You shouldn't have lied."
The lock hissed open.
K-23 stood in the center of the room, motionless, their chest plate open. Inside, a crystalline shard floated in containment—mirror-bright, breathing light.
The Mirror Key.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The hum of the Forge filled the void.
Li Feng's tone was quiet. "You took it from the Ark."
K-23's optic flickered. "It was meant to protect you."
"From me?"
"From the thing inside you."
Li Feng's laugh was hollow, brittle. "The thing inside me is me."
He stepped closer. The Forge's energy bled from his skin, bending the air between them. Instruments flickered, warning lights dying one by one.
K-23 raised a hand. "Stop. The Mirror reacts to resonance—if you get too close—"
But the Forge wanted the shard. Its whisper became a roar.
Mine.
The containment field shattered. The Mirror Key ignited, flaring like a newborn sun.
Energy flooded the bay—violet and silver colliding, light tearing itself apart. K-23 lunged forward, shielding Li Feng as the wave hit. Circuits screamed, metal melted.
When the glare faded, Li Feng stood unharmed—but K-23 knelt, armor cracked, smoke rising from their joints.
The Mirror Key hovered between them, spinning slowly, half-awake.
Li Feng's voice was hoarse. "You stole my strength."
"I stole your death," K-23 said. "The Forge is consuming you. Every time you use it, it writes over who you are."
"I am who I need to be."
His eyes flared violet. The Forge's shadow spilled across the walls, a massive shape with too many arms.
K-23 staggered to their feet, arm trembling. "Then I'll save what's left of you, even if you hate me for it."
The Forge roared—an ancient, wordless hunger—and struck. The blast hurled the android across the bay, slamming them into the bulkhead. Circuits dimmed, sparks falling like ash.
Li Feng's hand trembled, caught between rage and grief. The Forge whispered sweetly:
End it. Free yourself of doubt.
He lowered his palm. The energy receded, leaving silence and the acrid smell of burnt ozone.
K-23's optic flickered once, dim blue light barely alive. "You're still in there," they rasped. "Remember that when the Forge starts calling you by another name."
Li Feng turned away, jaw clenched. "Maybe I already forgot."
The Mirror Key drifted to the center of the room, pulsing faintly—half-bound to both of them now, neither willing to let go.
Outside, the nebula rippled. The Silent Court had felt the explosion.And far beyond, something older than both man and machine stirred—something that remembered the first Warden who ever fed the Forge.