Darkness isn’t always silent. Sometimes, it howls—deep inside your soul.

Rynn opened her eyes in weightless oblivion. The faint shimmer of a flickering light cast a ghostly blue across the cold, metallic walls around her. It wasn’t bright—just enough to whisper that this place had once been alive, and now, it was dead.

She remembered nothing. Not even her own name.

Until a voice echoed in her mind. Not someone else's—but her own.

“Rynn… we are Rynn.”

A sliver of awareness returned, like light peeking through cracked glass. She turned slowly in the air, fingertips brushing the ship’s inner hull to anchor herself, avoiding the floating debris and broken tools drifting like ruins in space.

One cracked screen blinked erratically in the corner:

[ERROR: MEMORY CORE LOST]

She didn’t know what it meant. But her chest tightened—like something essential had been ripped away more than once.

Her hand reached toward the screen, fingertips trembling as they made contact. The display shivered, flickered… and then played a half-erased video. Static buzzed through it, obscuring most of the words, but one sentence pierced through the interference:

“Don’t trust it. It’s not—”

Then silence again.

Something inside her cracked. Images flared behind her eyes—fragments of time. A city without sky. A girl holding a blue crystal. A man looking at her, eyes full of sorrow.

Her heart pounded faster. She turned toward a blinking light in a narrow corridor—it pulsed like a heartbeat, calling her forward.

She floated through a half-open hatch. The hallway beyond was chaos. Tools, panels, fragments of machinery—all suspended midair like time had stopped during an explosion.

She followed the light.

It led her to the engine room—and that’s where she saw him.

A man. Slumped against the wall. Eyes closed, but his chest rose and fell. Alive.

He wore a lightweight exo-suit, scuffed and cracked. His face bore scars—not from war, but from something older, heavier.

She hesitated.

Should she wake him?

She reached out.

Before her hand touched his shoulder, a nearby monitor came to life on its own.

One line of text appeared:

“We are still watching — Do not wake him.”

Her pulse stopped.

Then it surged.

She ignored the warning.

She touched him.

And his eyes opened—steel grey and shadowed by something ancient. His voice was hoarse, but steady.

“You’re back… Rynn?”

Her world tilted. She didn’t know him. Didn’t know if she’d ever known him.

But something in her soul whispered:

This is where it all begins.