Location: Axion Prime, Coreworld of the Galactic Union
There are fourteen thousand member civilizations in the Galactic Union.
Seven hundred languages. Four central time protocols.
But only one law that matters:
No war within the Core Spiral.
Axion Prime is the heart of that spiral—towers made of carbon lattice and memory-stone. Skyports the size of cities. Gravity rails that bend across moons. Here, the word peace isn't spoken.
It's engineered.
Council Hall — Ring 1: Sector Representatives
A hundred diplomats gathered—spliced species, machinekind, photonic intelligences—all seated in the Void Halo: a floating ring where votes are cast through consciousness pulses.
A discussion had started.
Topic: Unregistered psionic flares on outer trade routes. Ship vanishings. Echo activity.
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“Statistical anomalies,” said the Synth Delegate.
“Coincidence,” said the Merra’tal speaker, waving a clawed hand. “The Core remains untouched.”
Only one voice challenged them.
A human.
Envoy Thale, Earth-borne, representative of Sol 9.
“Coincidences don’t bend stardrives inward,” he said.
Silence.
The others didn’t take humans seriously. New blood. Unrefined. Dangerous when stirred.
Outside the Council — Life on the Edge
Union citizens lived in artificial harmony.
On Phaedrus IX, beings who fed on radiation played orchestral fusion instruments beneath diamond rain.
On Tyr-Haxa, a species evolved to dream together during planetary sleep cycles synchronized across the equator.
On Vyril Station, twin black holes rotated around a floating bazaar where time moved differently depending on your wallet.
They didn’t know about Zero.
Or Chroma.
Or Lys.
Not yet.
Underground — Intelligence Deck, Guild of the Unseen
Not everyone was blind.
The Unseen—spies, information merchants, psion readers—had tracked a name through hidden channels. Not a person. A pattern.
They had no face.
Just a ripple signature.
They called it:
"The Mirror Plague."
Meanwhile — Aboard the Valkyrion
Lys stood at the observatory, watching the Union’s central star: Velarion.
She didn’t know its name.
But it felt familiar.
Kael stepped beside her. “We’re docked. Axion clearance just came through. You okay?”
Lys blinked slowly.
“The people here…”
“What about them?”
“They’re asleep.”
Kael frowned. “The Core Spiral’s safe. It’s supposed to be—”
She cut him off.
“No,” she said, voice low. “Not like that.”
She turned to face him.
“I mean they’re dreaming someone else’s dream.”
And in the far dark…
A relay probe shattered into dust. No sound. No reason.
Just a whisper, coded deep in its neural log before termination:
Chroma has entered the spiral.