“We are not alone,” he says.
Not loud or panicked—only certain. I stiffen, heart racing.
“What does that mean?” I whisper.
He rises fluidly, placing himself between me and the corridor’s deeper shadows.
“It means,” he says, claws extending with a soft hiss, “this vessel is not as dead as it appears.”
And somewhere within the ship—deep, distant, echoing like memory—something knocks again. Soft. Hollow. Like something tapping on the other side of a wall, testing it.
The fire pops, causing me to jump. My only saving grace is that I manage not to yelp, choking down any sound before it passes my lips. Tomas jerks awake with a strangled sound, scrambling closer to the center of the chamber. Travnyk surges to his feet, blade raised, tusks catching the dim blue glow pulsing through the walls.
Rakkh doesn’t move from where he stands between me and the dark corridor ahead.
His wings shift downward, instinctively shielding me from the corridor. His tail lowers, curling slightly—aimed toward me, not away. The gesture is protective, primitive, and so startlingly intimate that my breath stutters.
“Rakkh,” I whisper. “What is it?”
“I do not think it is a creature,” he says, his voice low and rumbling like thunder. He tilts his head, listening. “It sounds like metal moving.”
“Somehow that sounds worse,” Tomas croaks.
“The structure shifts like bone under pressure. Perhaps it is settling,” Travnyk says, cautiously stepping forward.
Rakkh’s answer is immediate.
“No. I think this is deliberate.”
The ship groans again—longer this time. The sound vibrates up my legs through the floor, then hums under my skin. It feels… aware. Alive. My throat tightens.
“It’s not dead. Its systems are still functioning,” I say.
Rakkh glances back at me, pupils narrowing.
“Explain,” he says.
“I think…” I swallow. “I think the ship is reacting to stimuli. To us. The way the panel lit up when I touched it—it wasn’t random. It was a response.”
“Why your touch?” Travnyk asks softly.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I felt something. Like it recognizes—or remembers—me. Or someone like me. Humans.”
“It recognized you,” Rakkh says, stiffening—shoulders tight, jaw clenched.
Something fluttery and cold drops into my stomach.
“Yeah… that’s not good,” I say, voice thin.
Rakkh’s tail brushes my ankle lightly—so faint I’m not sure he meant to.
“It will not have you,” he says softly. “No matter what it remembers.”
Heat flares in my chest—unexpected, overwhelming—but the ship steals my breath before I can answer. A panel in the far wall shifts. Not sliding. Not opening. Unfurling.
Metal ripples outward, like petals of a flower blooming in reverse, revealing a narrow passage illuminated by faint violet veins running through the walls. The air that spills out is warm, carrying a scent I don’t recognize—ozone and something sweet, almost floral, definitely alien.
“Nope. No. No exploring the creepy corpse-ship hallway,” Tomas whimpers.
