Page 117 of Alien Soldier's Heir

Doors part before us in a whisper of pressure seals. The air inside the wormhole chamber is thick—like walking into a storm that hasn't broken yet. Humming. Charged. My skin prickles with it. Static clings to my shoulders, tugging at the tips of my horns.

Nova’s already moving, boots hitting the deck with practiced rhythm. “System logs show the override was triggered fortyminutes ago,” she says, fingers dancing across a holo-console. “The failsafe's live, but not firing. Something’s suppressing it.”

“I’d bet a shipful of fuel that something’s got Stark’s fingerprint all over it.”

I cross the deck to the central command ring, passing through light columns flickering with data. The whole grid is twitchy—glitching in waves. Like the wormhole system’s trying to speak in a language no one’s taught it.

Then Verzius appears. Out of nowhere, as usual.

Except this time, he’s in full combat attire—scales lacquered in deep violet armor, plasma blade strapped to his thigh, hair swept back in a perfect, warlike braid. His cloak flares behind him like something out of an epic, and his expression is pure Vakutan steel.

“I figured you’d need a dramatic entrance,” he says, voice dry.

“You’re late,” I shoot back.

“I was picking out boots.”

Nova doesn't even blink. “You’re with us?”

He nods. “Of course. Someone’s gotta keep you two from dying stupidly.”

She doesn’t argue. None of us do.

The main console flares. A siren bleeds through the wall panels—low and pulsing, like the heartbeat of a dying star.

“Gate’s stabilizing,” Nova says. “But not naturally. It’s holding position at a quantum harmonic point. That shouldn't be possible without?—”

“Manual control,” I finish, stepping beside her.

My gaze locks onto the failsafe schematic rotating in midair. It’s like looking into the guts of a god—nested rings, fractal patterns, algorithms that feel almost alive.

Then I see it.

At the center of the command string, embedded like a thorn in a vein, is a lock.

Not just any lock.

Abiometric signature.

Nova zooms in, hands trembling. “It’s coded to you.”

I stare at the display. The pulse reading. The genetic key. Everything Stark embedded into that failsafe leads to one thing: me.

“That son of a bitch.”

Verzius frowns. “Why would he tie it to you?”

“Because he knew I’d come back,” I mutter. “He knew I’d be the only one dumb enough to try and shut it down manually.”

Nova’s eyes flick to mine. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this whole thing’s a trap. A setup. Stark’s backup plan was to force a pilot into the singularity with the override.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.” I point to the data readout. “He built a firewall only my bio-sig can bypass. Frominsidethe gate. It’s the only way to cancel the cascade.”

Nova shakes her head. “That’s suicide.”