The wreckage of the alien ship felt like a tomb, its silence almost unbearable. Izumi's flashlight swept cautiously over jagged shards of metal and wires dangling like lifeless vines. Each step felt heavier than the last, her breath misting in the cold air of the desolate ship. She wasn't sure what she was searching for—perhaps a clue, a fragment of understanding in the chaos—but then her beam caught something unexpected.

A faint glow shimmered beneath a pile of twisted debris.

Her heart skipped a beat as she crouched down, carefully shifting the jagged metal aside. Her fingers brushed against something smooth and cool to the touch. She pulled it free, revealing a small, crystalline artifact. Its surface was etched with intricate, alien symbols that seemed to ripple and shift in the dim light, almost as if they were alive. The artifact pulsed faintly, a rhythmic energy that sent a comforting warmth through her fingers.

Izumi's breath caught. The sensation wasn't just familiar—it was deeply personal, like the echo of a memory she had tried to bury. Her thoughts raced back to that fateful day, to the key embedded in Daichi's chest as he sacrificed himself to save them all. The same pulsing energy, the same eerie glow... it was unmistakable.

But, strange things was, the symbol that was etched on the artifact were a bit different from the one that she familiar with. It has a much darker, complicated text and the shape was not very spherical and a bit of jagged corner. 

Her hands trembled slightly, and she glanced over her shoulder. Hikari was absorbed in the ship's terminal, her focus razor-sharp as she deciphered alien logs. Ayase stood near the entrance, ever-vigilant, her hand resting on her weapon. And Daichi... Daichi was at the far end of the room, his expression distant as he examined a shattered console.

Izumi hesitated, the artifact's warmth almost soothing in her grasp. Something deep inside her whispered that she couldn't share this—at least not yet. It wasn't distrust, but an unshakable instinct that this discovery was hers alone to unravel. Swallowing her doubts, she slipped the artifact into her pocket, its glow disappearing into the fabric.

"Just one more mystery," she whispered to herself, rising to her feet and rejoining the others as if nothing had happened.

Back at the facility, the air felt heavier than usual, weighed down by the growing tension. The team had been working nonstop since their return from the alien ship, combing through the data they had retrieved. Hikari's sharp voice echoed through the control room as she paced in front of the central monitor, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"This isn't just some random phenomenon," she said, gesturing emphatically at the screen, which displayed lines of alien script alongside incomprehensible charts. "It's deliberate. There's an intelligence behind it. But what's worse... is that we're running out of time."

Izumi sat at her station, her fingers typing absently as her mind wandered. The artifact's weight in her pocket was a constant distraction, its faint warmth seeping through the fabric. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching her somehow, waiting for her to uncover its secrets.

"Wait, if this artifact was being created by the aliens, how come they (people at the Project Rebirth) have their hand on this?, Izumi asked herself, confusedly.

Ayase leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly. "We can't afford to lose focus," she said, her tone clipped but calm. "Panic won't get us anywhere. Hikari, keep digging into those logs. Izumi, analyze the power signature from the ship's core. And Daichi..." She turned her sharp gaze to him. "Try to piece together the timeline of the crash."

Daichi nodded silently, his usual stoic demeanor unshaken. "Understood."

Izumi forced herself to focus, nodding as well. "Got it." But her voice lacked conviction, and Ayase caught it.

"Something bothering you, Izumi?" Ayase asked, her sharp eyes narrowing.

Izumi shook her head quickly. "No, I'm fine. Just tired."

Ayase studied her for a moment longer before nodding. "Get some rest when you can. We need everyone at their best."

In the late night, the control room was eerily quiet, its usual hum muted by the stillness of the night. Izumi sat alone, the soft glow of the monitors casting long shadows across the walls. The others had gone to their rooms hours ago, but sleep eluded her. Instead, she found herself staring at the artifact on the desk in front of her.

Its glow was faint but steady, the alien symbols shifting slowly across its crystalline surface. She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against it. The warmth it emitted was soothing, almost hypnotic.

"What are you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the facility's systems.

The artifact pulsed once, and for a brief moment, she thought she heard something—a faint whisper, indistinct and distant, like a voice carried on the wind. Her breath caught, and she snatched her hand back.

"No... I'm just imagining things," she muttered, shaking her head. Exhaustion must have been playing tricks on her. She stood, deciding to step away for a moment to clear her mind. The artifact remained on the desk, glowing faintly as she left the room.

The sound of her footsteps faded down the hall, replaced by silence.

When she returned moments later, a cup of water in hand, her heart stopped. The desk was empty.

The artifact was gone.

Her breath quickened as panic surged through her. "No, no, no," she whispered, setting the cup down with trembling hands. She checked under the desk, behind the monitors, even the nearby equipment, but the artifact had vanished without a trace.

"This doesn't make sense," she murmured, her voice rising with urgency. "Who could've—?"

She froze, the thought dying in her throat. The control room was secure. The others were asleep. No one else had been awake to take it. And yet, the artifact was nowhere to be found.

A cold dread settled over her, clawing at her chest. Her mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. The artifact's faint warmth, the whispers, its sudden disappearance... it all felt wrong.

Her trembling hands clutched the edge of the desk as she struggled to steady her breathing. "What are you trying to tell me?" she whispered into the empty room.