The silence in the cargo hold hung heavy. The laughter from the ‘demon’ misunderstanding had died in an instant, replaced by a thick, uncomfortable tension that had settled over the crew. All eyes were on Pulse, who stood staring at Tamiyo like a cornered animal.

  Tamiyo stood her ground, her expression a mask of quiet, sad understanding.

  "What's going on?" Aurania's voice was a low growl, cutting through the silence.

  Pulse’s body language eased slightly, hands coming up, “Easy, I don’t intend to fight you, I’m clearly outnumbered here. Your friend there,” he gestured to Tamiyo, “she just… caught me off guard is all.”

  Aurania eyed him suspiciously, then glanced at Tamiyo. “What did you see?”

  “It’s not my place to say, Aura,” Tamiyo said simply, eyes never leaving Pulse. “It would be disrespectful without permission.”

  All eyes went back to Pulse. His shoulders were coiled tight, like he was having a silent, internal war. Finally, with a slow, weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of years, his shoulders slumped.

  “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

  Inelius got the strange feeling that Pulse was not talking to any of them.

  “There is a CIPHER consciousness that lives in my mask,” Pulse said. “I’m not sure how you figured it out,” he cast a quick glance at Tamiyo, “but now that she’s not hidden, she would like to join the conversation.”

  A ripple of confusion went through the team.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then a new voice filled the room, emanating from the mask—clear, warm, and undeniably female. “Hello everyone! My name is Echo!”

  Everyone stared at Pulse, unsure if they should laugh or not.

  “Hi Echo!” Amalia answered back cheerfully. “I’m Amalia!”

  The tension in the room seemed to ease up a couple inches. Inelius even found himself grinning.

  “Tamiyo,” he called out. “Do you trust this Echo?”

  Tamiyo looked at Pulse for a moment, then turned to Inelius and nodded once. “I do.”

  Aurania stared at the masked man, her expression a mix of profound confusion and dawning suspicion. "Okay," she said slowly, her voice still laced with a dangerous edge. "Let's take this somewhere we can all sit down."

  The mood in the operations center was thick with a new, stranger kind of tension. Pulse stood near the central holo-display, the map of the galaxy washing them all in neon light. His posture was once again a mask of professional calm, though Inelius could sense the stress underneath it. The team had arranged themselves in a loose semi-circle around him, a silent, intimidating jury of giants, d'moria, and a single, very curious CIPHER.

  Until metal footsteps rang out on the stairs and Raine bounced down. She strode past Pulse, eyeing him over carefully and moved to sit next to Inelius. As she took her seat, she offered a small wave to their guest. “Hello, my name is Raine.”

  Pulse stared back at her, but before he could respond, the warm voice chirped from Pulse’s mask again. "Hi! I'm Echo! It's so nice to meet you!"

  Pulse’s entire body went rigid. “Sorry. She doesn’t get to talk to many people besides me.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Echo told him with a hint of attitude.

  Raine laughed and nudged Inelius. “I like these two.”

  Aurania slowly paced, her arms crossed as she sized up their guest. "Alright, Pulse. Let's start with the basics. You're human, born in the Conservatory, I assume."

  "Correct," he replied.

  “Prior to meeting us, were you aware of species other than humans in the galaxy?”

  “I had suspicions,” he shrugged. “On account of our mutual demon acquaintance. But other than her, no. I’ve never met aliens before.”

  Several uncomfortable murmurs circulated through the room.

  “Careful,” Inelius said. “If anyone is an alien in this room, it’s you.”

  Pulse stared back at him, his expression impossible to read through the mask.

  “Forgive us,” Echo said. “Charisma has never been his strong suit.”

  Soren chuckled. “Did you seriously think Riza was a demon?”

  “Yes,” Pulse said immediately. “Tall, silent, built with curves, hooves, and ears like a fucking jackrabbit—hell yes I thought she was a demon. And that gun she carries around? She’s terrifying.”

  “Oh that gun is mine now,” Amalia said with a warm smile.

  Pulse only looked at her in response.

  “I wasn’t completely sure she was real after the one time I met her,” he continued. “But when you get a message from a demon, it’s not the wisest thing to ignore it, so here I am.”

  “You seem to be handling it pretty well,” Inelius noted. He cast a jesting glance at Soren, exaggerated enough for the big man to notice.

  Soren just glared back in feigned offense.

  “We’ve seen our fair share of weird things,” Echo said.

  Aurania eyed them with suspicion. “Do you have any loyalty to the Conservatory?”

  “No,” Pulse said simply. "The Conservatory and I had a... difference in philosophy."

  "He's being modest," Echo's voice chirped from the mask. "He found out his commanders were monsters, so he burned his life down and walked away."

  "Echo," Pulse's voice was a low warning.

  Inelius was fascinated by the exchange. It was like watching a man argue with his own shadow.

  “Why did Emberfell send a ping out to you?” Veolo spoke up with a glare.

  He was quiet for a moment. “She said there was some trouble that my skillset was needed for.”

  “And what skillset is that?” Veolo asked.

  Pulse stood up a little straighter. “I am an expert in infiltration. Stealth, hacking, slicing—I can get into places most people think are impregnable.”

  “Good skills to have,” Raine noted.

  “What’s this trouble you all find yourselves in?” Pulse asked.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Aurania stopped pacing and turned to face him. “Our planet has less than a year left before its orbit degrades to the point where it can no longer sustain life. We are seeking schematics for a piece of ancient but hyper-advanced technology. It's called a Graviton Anchor."

  Pulse didn’t flinch as he processed the information, didn't show any outward sign of surprise. But subtle shifts in his body language told Inelius that he understood the impossible scale of what Aurania was asking.

  "An ancient yet hyper-advanced piece of technology," Pulse repeated in a low, analytical rasp. "That sounds... contradictory."

  Soren pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. "You’re currently standing in a ship that fits that description."

  Pulse took a long moment before answering, his masked head turning slowly to take in the smooth, seamless lines of the ops center and the faint hum of the Aether Core vibrating through the deck.

  "Point taken."

  He turned back to them. "A Graviton Anchor... I've never heard of anything with that designation. But technology that can influence gravity on a planetary scale..." His voice trailed off in thought.

  "It's a long shot," Aurania admitted. "But it's the only one we have."

  "Sounds like you all are short on time,” Pulse said, his voice regaining its confident, professional edge. “If the schematics exist anywhere, you’ll want to look in the place where you have the best chance of finding them. Solaceum.”

  A chill went through the room and Inelius felt his stomach tighten.

  Solaceum.

  The name alone was a threat.

  Soren's brow furrowed. "That name sounds familiar. What is that, Latin?" He glanced over his shoulder at the massive galaxy map.

  Tamiyo answered in a small voice. "It's the capital planet of the entire Sovereign Earth Conservatory."

  The words hung heavy in the air.

  Soren looked disturbed. "I never even thought about it before, but... I guess it makes sense they'd have a new capital." He glanced at Aurania. "Seeing as Earth is uninhabitable."

  "It's a little over five light-years from Earth," Aurania confirmed. "As I understand it, the heads of government relocated there after the fall."

  "How long ago was that?" Soren asked.

  "Well over two thousand years ago," Aurania replied.

  Soren went silent, the weight of a history he had slept through pressing down on him.

  “I have a question,” Echo's bright voice cut through the tension like a fresh signal. “Pulse is too polite to ask, but I'm curious."

  The sudden shift in tone was jarring. Amalia let out a small giggle. "What is it?"

  "What's the deal with him and Earth?" Echo asked directly, utterly devoid of caution.

  A ripple of unease went through the team.

  Aurania was the first to speak, her voice low and protective. "It's a long story. And not one we're telling right now."

  Soren looked over the room, his gaze falling on Aurania last. “It’s alright,” he said, “Riza seems to trust this guy.” He looked back to Pulse. “I was born on Earth. Before the fall."

  Pulse didn't move—didn't even seem to breathe. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the ship's Aether Core.

  Then, he said a single word: "Impossible."

  Soren just held his gaze, the weight of his eyes filling the room with physical gravity.

  Pulse seemed to recalibrate, pushing the monumental revelation aside with professional force. "That is a conversation for another time. For now, we have something else we should discuss."

  “What would that be?” Inelius asked.

  "I don’t work for free,” Pulse said, his tone all business.

  Another wave of uncomfortable feelings washed over the operations center. Inelius saw it in the way Aurania’s posture stiffened, her arms folding across her chest in a gesture that was both defensive and challenging. Amalia’s bubbly demeanor dimmed slightly. Veolo shifted her weight, her expression growing into a borderline snarl. They had a singular, desperate goal, and this stranger was trying to leverage it.

  Inelius cut through the emotion before it could boil over. “What’s your price?”

  Pulse’s head tilted slightly, as if weighing the question. "Well, instead of explicit payment, I’d like your help on a job. A bounty, to be specific. You all actually stand to make some money from it."

  “We have bigger priorities than making money right now,” Amalia shot back, her voice tight with a frustration she didn’t try to hide.

  “Now hold on, hear me out,” Pulse raised a placating hand. He didn’t appear offended by her tone; he seemed to expect it.

  He slowly looked across the entire team. “This isn’t just some random job—it’s something I’ve had my eye on for a while, and… I get the vibe from you all that you’d take it on even if I wasn’t asking.”

  "And why is that?" Raine asked with her usual attitude.

  Something about the pink-eyed CIPHER made Pulse pause, his head turning to face her. He had been addressing the towering, intimidating lacravida, but Raine’s question seemed to draw him in. The silence stretched on a moment too long.

  Echo chirped up, less cheerful than before. "Because the bounty is to take out a pirate base that operates as a black-market hub for sex slaves."

  A ripple of murmurs went through the team. Inelius’s jaw tightened, and across the room, he saw Tamiyo flinch—a small, almost imperceptible motion. Her shoulders curled inward as a ghost of a memory brushed past her.

  Violet, however, was perfectly still. Her expression hardened into something cold and absolute.

  "Go on," she growled. It wasn’t a request.

  Pulse turned his attention fully to her, recognizing the shift in the room's gravity. "The organization calls themselves 'The Red Consortium.' They operate out of a hollowed-out asteroid in The Serpent's Coil Nebula—shielding, active patrols, impossible to approach with a conventional force. They've been plaguing the nearby systems for years, snatching refugees, colonists... anyone who wouldn't be missed."

  "A full-scale assault on a fortified pirate base," Inelius said, his tone analytical. "Doesn't sound like a job for an infiltration specialist."

  "You're right," Pulse admitted without hesitation. "I wouldn't be able to take it out alone. My expertise is getting through the locks, not kicking down the door and leaving a wake of bodies. With your help, however, I don't think we’ll have a problem."

  Tamiyo finally spoke, her voice quiet but sharp. "Who posted the bounty? An operation like that... it doesn't sound like something the Conservatory would have a problem with.”

  “Correct,” Echo chirped up. “The bounty was posted by a group of Lilithists.”

  "Oh, shit," Aurania muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "That makes sense."

  Soren’s brow furrowed. “Who are the Lilithists?”

  "They're not a government," Aurania began to pace, her hooves making a soft, rhythmic clicking on the deck. "They're a faith. A decentralized, sometimes fanatical movement that has been spreading through the fringe systems near the galactic core for centuries.”

  Her tone was that of a historian recalling a dark and bloody legend. “They worship a deity—there are different names and titles depending on what planet you’re on—but the one I’m familiar with refers to her as 'The Mother of Ashes.'”

  A tense silence settled over the room.

  From her seat in the back, Brana grunted, "That sounds fucking ominous."

  “Regardless of the name,” Aurania continued, “there’s a core concept that everyone seems to believe in, no matter what sect of Lilithists you may be speaking to.”

  "And that is?" Soren asked.

  Aurania stopped and gave him a hard look. “That she is a divine liberator. A goddess of vengeance.”

  From her chair, Violet’s posture straightened slightly. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

  Aurania’s fiery gaze flicked to her before she resumed her explanation. “She is believed to be a being of immense, destructive power. One who appears in places of extreme oppression, purges evil in a storm of fire, and then vanishes. Her followers are zealots—near-suicidal in their devotion. They believe that suffering brings them closer to their goddess, and that a violent death in her name is a form of transcendence."

  "So… it’s a death cult." Inelius said.

  "Sometimes," Aurania admitted. "But they also do this." She gestured to the implied mission briefing. "Their core belief is 'Justice for the Broken, Freedom for the Bound.' They use their resources to fund bounties against slavers, tyrants, and abusers. They are a force of chaotic, righteous vengeance."

  Violet let out a simple, quiet, “Hm.”

  Inelius caught the way Aurania’s eyes flicked to Violet at the sound.

  "And no one knows who this 'goddess' is?" Soren pressed.

  Aurania shook her head. "Just a myth. A story whispered in the dark by the people she has supposedly saved. A ghost who razes cities and frees the enslaved. To the Lilithists, she is a savior. To the Conservatory... she is a terrifying heresy.”

  The weight of her words settled over the ops center. Inelius just shook his head slowly. Whether this deity was real or not, this wasn't just a simple bounty; they would be inserting themselves into the middle of a holy war.

  "So they're fanatics," Violet said, staring at the holographic galaxy map with her hand on the grip of Morgan's Mercy. "But they're fanatics who hunt slavers."

  She finally turned to look at them, and her eyes were like shards of ice. "We can be at The Serpent’s Coil Nebula in a day,” she pointed at the map. “What are we waiting for?”

  "Yeah,” Amalia nodded in agreement, her usual bubbly energy replaced by a cold fire. “I don't care who's paying. If they’re putting people in cages, let’s go kick their fucking teeth in."

  There was no real debate—the decision was already made. A consensus solidified in the quiet of the room. Pulse was right—this was more than a job for credits; it was a mission that aligned with their own personal code.

  Aurania looked around at her team, weighing the fierce determination in their eyes. Finally, she looked at him. “Inelius? What do you think?”

  Inelius let out a slow breath. He looked from Violet’s cold fury to Tamiyo’s rigid posture, seeing the ghosts of their pasts converging. He looked at Pulse, weighing the potential benefits of trusting this new stranger.

  And he looked down at Raine, and his eyes went slightly wider.

  Alongside her tablet, she was holding his little sister’s notebook—the one gifted to her by Inelius’ mother before they left Nox. Her vibrant pink eyes burned up at him. “Leave the galaxy a better place than we found it, right?”

  He turned back to Pulse.

  “We’re in.”