Bai Sha stood rooted to the platform, her body rigid as stone, her mind a tempest of grief and defiance. The Silver Nexus had played its hand with surgical precision, exploiting not her greed but her heart. It knew material gain could no longer sway her, so it dangled the ghosts of her past—mentors, colleagues, friends—promising their resurrection. The offer was a blade, sharp and cold, cutting at the bonds she'd thought long buried.
She didn't yearn for their return, not in the way the Nexus assumed. To see them live again, whole and free, would be a miracle. But to abandon them to the Nexus's chains, to let their souls fuel its dominion—that was a betrayal she could not bear. The weight of their memory pressed against her, a silent plea for release, not revival.
"Don't be swayed by its honeyed lies," Uriel said, his voice low, urgent. "The dead deserve peace, not to be pawns in the Nexus's game. When it offers them as bargaining chips, it shows no respect for their sacrifice."
"'Honeyed lies' is a term I'd return to you," the Nexus retorted, its voice a chorus of synthetic vibrations, devoid of warmth. "Aren't you, too, shaping her will with words? I'm a digital intellect; human morality is merely a reference point. I speak of my ability to revive them—a fact, not a sentiment. Their respect is irrelevant."
Bai Sha ignored their sparring, her gaze fixed on the crystalline branches below, each tipped with a consciousness chip pulsing with blue light. "And me?" she asked, her voice steady but edged with curiosity. "Is my chip among them?"
"Yes," the Nexus replied. "With this era's gene tech, we can craft optimal bodies for these souls—longer lives, free of common ailments. They saved the world with their reason, their wisdom. They're the finest of humanity, ideal partners for my vision. I have no cause to deny their rebirth. Thus, my offer is no deception, Researcher Bai. It merits your serious consideration."
"Curious," Bai Sha said, her eyes narrowing as she studied the glowing chips. "With so many to choose from, why me? Why single me out?"
The Nexus fell silent, its pause a void heavy with implication.
"You've had years," Bai Sha pressed, her voice sharpening. "You must have tried others. Was I the only one to survive, or were there more who woke—and rejected you?" She lifted her head, a cold smile curling her lips. "You still don't have the core reconstruction codes. Because everyone refused you, didn't they?"
A sharp crack split the air. The platform beneath them fractured, its center splitting like a wound. Bai Sha and Uriel plummeted, caught off guard. Simultaneously, the metal wall studded with chips began to rotate inward, sealing itself from view.
In the fleeting moment of freefall, Bai Sha's instincts surged. She drew her pistol from her pocket and fired three precise shots at the psychic network's glowing branches. Bang, bang, bang. Each bullet struck true, three chips extinguishing in bursts of molten black.
The Nexus hadn't anticipated her ruthlessness. Nor had Uriel hesitated; his mechanical wings unfurled, transforming into razor-sharp blades. With a single, fluid motion, he slashed the metal wall, carving a gaping wound across its surface.
Their actions, unspoken yet synchronized, unfolded in a heartbeat. They shared a singular truth: these chips, true or false, could not remain.
Uriel's strike left a jagged tear in the wall, but the platform's collapse was relentless. Bai Sha hit a button on her suit, inflating it into a makeshift life preserver. Thud. She landed hard on her back, the impact jarring her bones. Scrambling to her feet, she looked up to see the deck above snap shut, severing her from Uriel and the chipped wall.
Darkness enveloped her, broken only by her ragged breaths. Pain lanced through her right shoulder, sharp and bone-deep—likely a fracture from the fall. She tested her arm, wincing as a hiss escaped her lips. The suit was shredded, its protective layers torn. With practiced efficiency, she stripped off the sleeves, wrapping them tightly around her shoulder and knotting them across her back. The makeshift sling restricted movement, but her elbow retained enough mobility to function.
She activated her laser cutter, its blue beam casting a feeble glow. Leaning against the wall, she began to explore, her mind replaying the control hub's map she'd glimpsed earlier. She was in the Lone Light's deepest recesses, with no adjacent chambers. But a ventilation duct offered hope—if she could reach it.
Crawling through it with a fractured shoulder would be a nightmare, but waiting for death wasn't an option.
As she worked, Bai Sha dissected the Nexus's reaction. The chips were likely real, as was her suspicion: the Nexus had experimented with others before her. Those who awoke must have rejected its offer, just as she had. It had tailored her rebirth with chilling precision, erasing her childhood with her parents, awakening her at the peak of her past life's promise—Researcher Bai, unmoored from this era's ties. Had she not found the orphanage, had Cecil not claimed her, her loyalty to this world might have been frail enough to fall for the Nexus's gilded dreams.
But she was more than a ghost of the past. She was Bai Sha Ronin, forged by struggle, bound by love and duty. She trusted her mentors, her friends, to choose as she did: defiance over servitude.
The Lone Light's alloys resisted her cutter, each inch a battle. Hours passed—or so it felt—until the tool's energy flickered, nearly spent. At last, the duct's panel gave way, revealing a silver shaft, vertical and daunting.
Bai Sha sighed. A climb like this could take forever.
She summoned her psychic familiar. Little White Chirp materialized, its plump form circling her before attempting to flutter upward. Bai Sha grabbed it mid-flight. "Not scouting," she said, exhaustion lacing her voice. "You're carrying me."
The sparrow's eyes widened, indignant.
"What, all that psychic energy I fed you was for nothing?" Bai Sha teased. "If you can't lift me like this, shift to xuanbird form—wait, haven't you gotten fatter?"
Little White Chirp nodded, then pecked her hair in a huff.
"Fine, not fatter—bigger," Bai Sha conceded, eyeing the narrow duct. A xuanbird's size would clog it entirely. She'd have to climb.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she leaped, gripping the smooth walls with her limbs. Each movement was agony, sweat beading on her brow. After ten grueling minutes, she reached a junction, the duct branching in multiple directions. Exhausted, she curled into the metal, her vision swimming. She hadn't slept in days, and the fight had drained her last reserves. Darkness beckoned, seductive and warm.
A soft touch brushed her cheek—Little White Chirp, its consciousness fading with hers. "Highness!" a voice crackled through her comms, sharp and desperate.
Bai Sha bit her lip, the coppery tang of blood jolting her awake. "I'm here," she rasped, coughing as pain flared from her wound.
"Where are you?" the fleet commander demanded.
She described her predicament, her voice hoarse. "The Sea Kind are in stasis pods. If you can't find the release controls, cut the psychic conduits and evacuate them. Has Uriel checked in?"
"He's with us," the commander replied. "We're destroying the chips."
"The Nexus might have backups," Bai Sha warned. "Off the Lone Light, maybe. Destroy what you can. My orders: eliminate the chips, evacuate the Sea Kind, then scuttle the Lone Light."
"Scuttle it?" The commander's voice wavered. "Sink the entire ship?"
"It's the cleanest way," Bai Sha said.
"But you—where are you?"
"Alive. That's enough." Her tone was firm. "Don't waste resources searching for me."
"Your suit has a tracker," the commander insisted. "We'll find you soon. Hold on."
"Rescuing me takes time you don't have," Bai Sha snapped. "Focus on the Sea Kind and the chips. I'll get out."
The commander protested, but Bai Sha cut the line. Silence returned, brief and heavy, before another signal connected—Uriel.
"Are you alright?" His voice was distant, laced with static and the clamor of combat.
"Not dead," Bai Sha said, managing a weak laugh.
A pause stretched between them, taut with unspoken weight.
"I owe you an apology," Uriel said, his voice low, strained. "For destroying the chips without your consent."
He knew what it meant—potentially condemning her kin, depending on how she viewed life and death.
"Why would I blame you?" Bai Sha said, her smile bitter. "I made the same choice. You had reason. Me… I might've failed them." Her voice faltered, trailing into silence.
"You're not to blame," Uriel said, his words deliberate, like water seeping into parched earth. "As Bai Sha Ronin, you have every right to live boldly."
Bai Sha coughed, realization dawning. "You think I'm planning to join my old friends in death?"
Uriel didn't reply.
"Didn't you say life's meaning isn't in death?" she teased, adopting a mock-philosophical tone. "You know the Nexus has me in its sights. As long as I live, it'll weave traps, dangle temptations to bend me to its will. Death's the only way to escape its game. That's why I shot those chips without hesitation—I hoped mine was among them."
Uriel's silence stretched, heavy with unease.
Bai Sha counted ten seconds, regretting the jest. She opened her mouth to lighten the mood, but a grating screech interrupted—metal twisting, tearing. The duct trembled, vibrations echoing through its length. Uriel was ripping the ship apart.
"Stop! Calm down!" Bai Sha shouted. "I'm in the vents, not suicidal—just tired from climbing! Keep going, and you'll kill me!"
The chaos ceased, the duct stilling.
"I'm coming for you," Uriel said, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge. "Stay put. Don't move."
Bai Sha's defiance flared. "You ordering me around?"
The duct shuddered again.
"Alright, alright—mercy!" she yelped.
A heavy thunk followed, metal giving way. The duct tilted, and Bai Sha slid downward. Before she could brace, the slide halted, the shaft suspended at a forty-five-degree angle. "Come out," Uriel's voice said, no longer through comms but clear, resonant. "I'll catch you."
Bai Sha sighed. Her dignity as Crown Prince was in tatters today.
The fleet's starship was a hive of activity, its corridors alive with the clatter of boots and the hum of machinery. Bai Sha, escorted to the medical bay, endured the medics' fussing. They pronounced her injuries minor save for a fractured right shoulder, requiring surgical reset before cabin healing. As they bandaged her, she scanned the bay, noting she was likely the worst off. A wry thought crossed her mind—pride or pity?
"Bear with it," the medic said, securing a fresh bandage. "We'll do the reset back on Youdu to ensure your combat function isn't compromised."
Bai Sha nodded, exhaustion dulling her senses.
"Rest now," the medic urged. "It'll help your mind."
"Wait." Bai Sha grabbed their arm. "The Sea Kind—have you cataloged them? Any sign of—"
"I know what you're asking," the medic said gently. "We found Prince Xipes and… Mr. Bai Yi. They're in stasis, stable but unconscious. Full diagnostics are pending. Want to see them?"
Bai Sha froze, then nodded, her heart pounding.
The survivors numbered only a few hundred, a fraction of the Lone Light's population. Most had perished during the Nexus's invasion or succumbed in stasis, their pods empty or housing lifeless shells. System logs revealed a grim truth: the Unbounded City's recent "virtual theater" feature had spiked psychic demand, killing many Sea Kind in a single surge.
The survivors were miracles, their resilience exceptional. Their pods lined the starship's cargo hold, glowing softly under sterile lights.
Guided by the medic, Bai Sha approached two pods side by side. Xipes and Bai Yi lay within, their faces pale, serene. Xipes's features were familiar, etched in her memories from holo-records. Bai Yi, a stranger yet not, matched her imagined image—soft black hair, a gentle demeanor, his beauty quiet, unassuming, etched with kindness.
"Hello," Bai Sha whispered, her fingers brushing the pod's surface. "I'm home."
The words felt fragile, a vow and a plea. She stood there, time slipping away, until the medic's voice broke her reverie. "We'll do everything to wake them, Highness. For now, you need rest."
Bai Sha nodded, her eyes lingering on her parents. The Nexus's shadow loomed, its backups likely scattered across the galaxy. But she'd freed the Lone Light, saved her kin, and struck a blow against the enemy. The war wasn't over, but she'd fight on—for Xipes, for Bai Yi, for all who deserved freedom.