Kruger

For a moment, everything was still.

The aftermath of the calibration incident left a heavy silence inside Outpost Spires. The techs had gone quiet. The lights around Subdeck Seven flickered back to normal. Kaiell sat at the edge of a diagnostics platform, head in his hands, sweat cold on his brow.

He had felt it again.

The Mage's presence. Still in him. Quiet, but watching.

Joran sat nearby, fiddling with his backup knife but glancing over constantly. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," Kaiell muttered.

"You're glowing again."

He was.

Veins of faint blue light threaded across his forearms, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

The doors hissed open behind them.

Two Kruger agents entered. Their armor was sleeker than the standard black exo-plate, and their visors had no reflections — just dull red eyes.

One of them spoke.

"Candidate 1179. You are to be escorted to quarantine."

Joran stood. "He just got out of medical."

"This isn't medical," the second Kruger said. "It's containment."

Kaiell slowly rose to his feet. "Why?"

The red-eyed one spoke flatly. "Your Nova Index crosslinked with a Mage-class entity. That makes you a beacon, not a soldier."

Joran stepped forward. "He saved candidates. He got the recording. He's the one who—"

"Irrelevant," the other Kruger snapped. "If that Voidling is inside him, it may be watching us through his eyes. Listening through his pulse. We contain it. Or we eliminate the possibility."

Kaiell's fists clenched.

His Viora stirred. He could feel its tremor ripple through his spine—not rage. Instinct.

Fear and defense all in one.

But then it happened.

His vision fractured.

For half a second, the hallway dissolved—and he saw something else.

Not a room.

A jungle clearing.

Fifteen Voidlings. Moving. Together. Coordinated. One larger than the rest—chitin-armored, six limbs, hissing commands. A scout party. Approaching Spires' north shield line.

Then—

Back.

He staggered.

"What was that?" Joran asked, catching his shoulder.

Kaiell stared into space. Then turned to the Krugers.

"North perimeter," he said. "Voidlings coming. Fifteen. One leader. Five minutes. Shields down to forty-two percent."

The Krugers froze.

One activated a comm. "Confirm threat vector, north grid. Run a sweep—"

"Confirmed," came the response. "Visuals just lit up. How did he—?"

They looked back at Kaiell.

He didn't need to explain.

"I saw them," he said. "I don't know how. But I felt the Mage again. It was… routing them. Like a nerve system. And part of that nerve passes through me."

The Kruger with red eyes stared hard. Then tapped his comm.

"Quarantine suspended. New directive: shadow candidate 1179. If he feels anything again, we want it logged."

He looked directly at Kaiell.

"If you betray us, it won't matter what gifts you have. We'll make sure your corpse is uncorrupted."

They left.

Kaiell exhaled, dizzy from the pulse in his skull.

Joran crouched next to him.

"So you're a Voidling GPS now?"

Kaiell gave a hollow smile. "Looks like it."

"But if you can see them… maybe you can see the Mage again."

Kaiell paused.

"I think it wants me to."

And beneath his skin—somewhere deep—something answered.

Just one word. Soft. Almost kind.

"Soon."