Ascream.Metal and energy protested in unison as space itself convulsed around us. I tore my mouth from hers an instant before the deck lurched violently to the side. Nadine gasped, and her fingers dug into my shirt as gravityspiked, then vanished entirely. The counter slammed into my hip as I twisted, dragging her with me, my arm locked around her waist just as the world inverted.
"What—" she started.
The lights flared, dimmed, then flared again in a spectrum I hadn't seen since?—
No!
This was different. It had to be. The stars beyond the viewport werebending. Not warping. Not streaking. They folded, like reflections on disturbed water, ripples raced outward from a point that should not have existed. My aura snapped tight around me without conscious command, shadows clawed outward as a pressure hit my senses, not mass, not gravity, butattention.
"Nadine," I called sharply, already moving us away from the counter as the ship bucked again. "Hold on."
"I am holding on!" she snapped back. Her voice was tight but steady, even as the floor tried to throw us apart.
The next impact was worse. Gravity surged tenfold, crushing down on us like a giant's hand. Nadine cried out as her knees buckled. I caught her fully this time, bracing my stance, my boots bit into the deck as inertial dampeners howled in protest.
The storm bloomed outside. Bands of distorted spacetime collided in overlapping waves, luminous arcs of plasma tore through the void like lightning with no clouds to anchor it. Energy cascaded across nothingness, tearing sensor readings into lies and contradictions.
"This isn't possible," Nadine breathed, staring past me at the viewport. "Space doesn't behave like this."
"No," I agreed grimly, hauling her closer as the ship shuddered again. "It doesn't."
The deck dropped out from under us. Gravity inverted, then snapped back with brutal force. Nadine cried out as the floor tried to tear her away. I twisted, planting my boots hard, one arm locked around her waist as storage units ripped free from their mounts and slammed into the far wall.
"We need to get to the bridge," I urged, still fully aware of the sweet scent emanating from her.
She didn't argue. That alone told me how bad this was. Another shockwave hit, sharper this time, throwing us sideways. I caught the edge of the counter with one hand, as metal screamed beneath my grip, then shoved us toward the corridor as emergency lighting flared crimson.
The ship listed,not rolled, not pitched, but dragged, as if hooked by another ship that was testing how much force we could endure before tearing loose. Nadine staggered but stayed upright, and her fingers remained fisted in my shirt as the ship lurched again. Her breath came fast, uneven.
"What is that?" she demanded, panic breaking through her control. "Is that a— a storm? In space? Dravok, that shouldn't exist!"
Another violent shudder ripped through the galley, more cabinets tearing free from their mounts as something outside continued to drag at us. I shoved the door controls hard, forcingthe hatch open just as a blast of compressed air roared through the room, flinging loose objects.
"Move," I snapped.
She didn't argue.
We ran.
The corridor bucked under our feet, inertial dampeners fighting a losing battle as gravity surged and collapsed in violent pulses. Walls flexed. Panels sparked. Somewhere deep in the ship, systems howled as reality itself refused to hold a single shape.
The stormresponded.
The bridge doors slid open just as another shockwave slammed into the ship. I dragged Nadine inside and threw her toward the nearest crash brace as the deck pitched hard beneath us.
The command console flared to life under my hands. Projections tore themselves apart as sensor feeds contradicted one another. Space ahead of us folded and refolded, gravity vectors spiked in violent, uneven pulses. I rerouted power on instinct, slamming energy into the shields and locking our trajectory before the storm could shear us sideways.
That was when I felt it. The moment I diverted power, the distortionshifted,deliberately. It adjusted—subtly but precisely—as if tasting resistance, learning the contours of our defiance. My blood went cold.
"This isn't a natural phenomenon," I observed, while my fingers flew across the interface as I fought to keep us aligned. "It's adaptive."
Nadine braced against the console as the ship bucked again. Her head snapped toward me. "You mean it's?—"
"Watching," I finished.
Another violent surge threw us sideways. Consoles flared, and projections stuttered as time dilation spiked unevenlyacross the hull. For a split second, the ship existed in two vectors at once—here and not—and Nadine sucked in a sharp breath, clutching my arm as the world tried to tear itself apart.
Then something in her shifted. The panic sharpened into focus. She leaned over the projection, her eyes tracking the chaos with sudden, terrifying clarity. "Dravok," she cried, low and urgent now, "this storm isn't random."
