The underground safe-zone, "Haven-9," wasn't much more than repurposed steel bunkers and flickering lights. But for Elara, it was the closest thing to home she'd had in months.

She stood silently in the decontamination chamber, stripped of her gear, arms folded across her chest. The stale steam hissed around her, yet it was the silence that weighed heavier than the heat. Her eyes were empty, not with hopelessness—but calculation. Every face she saw might be a ghost tomorrow.

"Commander Myles," a voice echoed from the intercom. "Dr. Rho is awake. He's asking for you."She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she let her fingers slide over the old dog tag necklace beneath her vest. 

Not her own. Someone else's. A reminder. Of what was lost.

The Med Bay

Dr. Rho was more machine now than man. His neural link ports blinked like low-energy fireflies from the back of his head. His skin was pallid. His eyes burned with something synthetic—but the smile that crept to his lips as Elara entered... that was still human.

"You're late," he rasped.

"You're alive," she countered, standing at his bedside. "Didn't expect you'd make it past Protocol breach."

Rho gave a dry, mirthless laugh. "Neither did I. But you know how hard it is to kill a man when he's got a backup copy of himself."

She stared at him. "That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking."He sat up slowly, grimacing. "How long do we have?""A week—maybe less," she said. "Phantom activity is increasing. And whatever's behind that eclipse… it's learning. Evolving."

"What about the Nexus Core?"Her silence was answer enough.

Later That Night

Elara sat on the upper scaffold of Haven-9, looking out over the broken skyline. Somewhere out there, the stars should've been visible. But the eclipse swallowed them. Eternal twilight.

Beside her, a boy—no older than 17 clutched a half-burnt comic book."What's that?" she asked softly."My dad used to read it to me. Before the sky went dark," he replied. "Said I'd be a hero one day."

"You still might."He looked at her, confused. "How? I'm not a soldier."

Elara pointed toward the central reactor—the Nexus Core. "The fight isn't just guns and ghosts. It's memory. Heart. We win by remembering who we were before all this."

She offered him a small ration bar. He took it with shaking hands. "You really believe we can win?"

"I believe we have to."

Inside the Nexus Core

Rho moved carefully through the core chamber, interfacing with the AI assistant "VITA"—the last stable artificial system not corrupted by the Phantom Code.

"VITA," he whispered. "Run simulation 'Skyfall Protocol.'"

The AI's voice responded, calm and warm: "Warning: Simulation contains a 74% chance of psychological degradation. Do you wish to proceed?"

He paused. Then: "Proceed."

What VITA showed him wasn't data. It was memory.

Elara, years ago. Smiling. Laughing. A mission long before the world fell apart. Before she lost her family. Before he lost his body. Back when humanity still felt like something worth saving.

His hands trembled. "Don't let me forget this, VITA."

"I won't."

The Next Morning

A siren. One long, continuous tone."Breach!" someone shouted. "We've got movement!"

Elara and her squad raced to the perimeter, where shadows shifted under the eclipse. But this time—it wasn't an alien or ghost.

It was a human. Naked, bleeding, whispering something over and over."Elara… it knows your name…"

She stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The man lifted his face.It was her brother.

But he had died ten years ago.

To Be Continued...