The facility took a long time to settle.
Not structurally—its systems stabilized within minutes—but psychologically. Kael could feel it in the air, an unspoken awareness lingering like the echo of a scream. Earth had been looked at. Judged. Spared.
For now.
Ryn sat on the edge of a console bench, helmet off, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. She hadn't spoken in several minutes. When she finally did, her voice was quiet.
"I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling."
Kael leaned against the railing overlooking the core chamber. "Being watched?"
"Being measured," she corrected. "Like we weren't people. Just… data that might get deleted."
Kael didn't argue. He was still sorting through what remained inside him. The Responders' touch had been precise—too precise. They had seen everything that mattered and dismissed everything that didn't.
Including his fear.
Unit-7 broke the silence.
"Commander. Long-range sensors confirm the anomaly has fully withdrawn. No residual distortions detected."
Ryn let out a breath she'd clearly been holding. "So that's it? They scare us half to death and just leave?"
Kael shook his head slowly. "No. That was a warning."
He closed his eyes, recalling the moment of assessment—the cold logic, the distant inevitability.
"They're updating their models," he continued. "We changed something just by surviving."
The core pulsed beneath them, its presence steadier now, less reactive.
You altered the threshold, it conveyed to Kael alone. They no longer see Earth as dormant.
Kael swallowed. "They'll be back."
Yes.
Ryn looked between them. "You're talking to it again."
Kael opened his eyes. "I don't have a choice."
She stood abruptly. "You always have a choice."
The words landed harder than she intended. Kael turned to face her fully.
"Do I?" he asked quietly. "Because it feels like that choice was made decades ago—before I was even born."
Ryn's expression softened, but her resolve didn't. "Kael, you're still you. Whatever that thing is doing, whatever Unit-7 is becoming—you don't get to disappear into it."
Unit-7's response came instantly.
"Commander Navarro's autonomy remains intact."
Ryn shot a glare at the air. "I wasn't asking you."
Kael almost smiled. Almost.
Instead, a sharp tone cut through the chamber.
"Incoming signal detected," Unit-7 announced.
"Origin: off-world. Encryption: colonial high command."
Kael's stomach tightened. "They felt it."
The disturbance hadn't been subtle enough to stay hidden from the colonies' deep-space sensors. Whatever the Responders had done, it had rippled outward.
"Patch it through," Kael said.
A holographic projection snapped into place—grainy, unstable. A woman's face appeared, dark-skinned, eyes sharp with the kind of alertness that came from living in dangerous systems.
"Commander Navarro," she said. "This is Captain Imani Okoye, forward recon out of the Ceres Corridor."
Ryn straightened immediately. Kael felt a shift in the air.
"Captain," Kael replied. "You're a long way from your patrol zone."
Imani's gaze flicked briefly to something off-screen, then back. "So are you. We detected a non-physical event originating from Earth's gravity well. Something that made half our instruments panic."
She paused. "And then I got orders to find you."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then Command knows I'm alive."
"They know more than that," Imani said. "They're afraid."
Ryn crossed her arms. "Good. They should be."
Imani's lips twitched faintly. "That's what worries me."
The projection stabilized, giving Kael a clearer look at her—combat armor worn but well-maintained, posture disciplined, eyes missing nothing.
"Commander," Imani continued, lowering her voice, "whatever you triggered down there… it woke things up. We're seeing anomalies across three systems. Small ones. But consistent."
Kael felt the weight of the words settle.
"How long do we have?" he asked.
Imani didn't hesitate. "Before someone comes to 'solve' Earth the wrong way?"
"Yes."
She met his eyes. "Not long."
The core pulsed once, heavily.
Human fear escalates faster than alien intervention, it warned.
Kael nodded grimly. "Then we move first."
Ryn turned to him sharply. "Move where?"
Kael looked at the projection of Imani, then down into the depths of the core chamber.
"We stop being a secret," he said. "And start being a threat."
Imani raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like the beginning of a very bad plan."
Kael allowed himself a thin smile.
"It's the only one that's ever worked."
Below them, ancient systems continued to awaken—quietly, patiently.
Earth had been seen.
And now, humanity had to decide what it would become in response.