The air inside the research outpost hummed with a low, static charge. Beyond the reinforced glass, the twilight expanse of Aurion Theta stretched endlessly, indigo skies swirling with silver auroras. The floating isles, suspended in the moon’s electromagnetic fields, drifted lazily across the horizon, casting elongated shadows over the mist-laden valleys below.
Two figures stood at the observation deck, silhouetted against the celestial panorama.
“It doesn’t make sense,” the first researcher murmured, arms crossed over a sleek Nexus-issued coat, their fingers tapping absently against the fabric. “Aurion Theta shouldn’t exist.”
The second researcher chuckled, a dry, knowing sound. “No habitable atmosphere, no stable orbit, yet here we are.” They gestured toward the capital city—Elyssara Spires, suspended between jagged cliffs, its bridges woven from liquid light. “I’d argue this moon makes less sense the longer you study it.”
The first researcher frowned, their gaze fixed on the flickering glow of the Obsidian Rift in the distance.
“And yet the Zorynthians thrive here,” they mused. “A species adapted to a moon that defies planetary physics. Their bodies conduct energy, their reflexes surpass known biological limits—tell me, do you think they evolved this way? Or were they… altered?”
The second researcher didn’t answer immediately. Instead, they reached for a worn data-slate, its edges scuffed from years of fieldwork. With a flick of their fingers, holographic glyphs hovered midair, scrolling through classified findings from the Echo Archives.
“You’re not the first to ask that,” they finally said. “The Zorynthians don’t talk about it, but their legends are full of stories about the ‘Silent Architects’—beings who walked the moon before them, who shaped the land, who left behind… echoes.”
The first researcher turned sharply. “You mean the Obsidian Rift?”
A slow nod. “What else?”
Beyond the glass, the Rift pulsed—a yawning void that seemed to drink in the twilight itself. The first researcher suppressed a shudder.
“The Rift collapse affected it, didn’t it?” they asked, voice quieter now.
The second researcher sighed, fingers drumming against the console. “The Nexus thought the Rift anomalies would only affect artificial structures. But Aurion Theta… it’s reacting. The storms are stronger. The Archives—” they hesitated, lowering their voice. ”—they’re showing things they shouldn’t.”
The first researcher narrowed their eyes. “Like?”
A long pause.
“People who don’t exist.”
The words hung in the air like static before a lightning strike.
The first researcher inhaled sharply. “You’re telling me the Echo Archives are recording events that never happened?”
A grim smile. “Worse. They’re recording events that might still happen.”
Outside, a bolt of silver lightning licked across the sky, illuminating the towering spires of Elyssara for a brief moment.
The first researcher exhaled, watching the Rift’s darkness churn against the stormlit horizon.
“You ever wonder if we’re studying Aurion Theta…” their voice was barely above a whisper now, ”…or if it’s studying us?”
The second researcher didn’t answer. They didn’t need to.
Because outside, in the depths of the Obsidian Rift, something watched. And it was waiting.
コメント