Chapter 5 – The Whisper in the Rift

The stars outside the ship looked wrong.

Too still. Too bright. As if someone had taken a photo of the galaxy and stuck it to a window.

Kael stared through the viewdeck, arms folded, his mind a storm. Sobo was still hours away, but something in his bones told him they were being watched. Or worse—waited for.

Juno adjusted the coordinates from the co-pilot's seat, brows furrowed. "That Hollow thing... it shouldn't be moving like this."

Luma sat cross-legged on the floor with her floating cube projecting Sobo's orbit. She traced the glowing lines like a child coloring a map.

"It's not moving," she said softly. "It's listening."

Kael looked over. "Listening to what?"

"Pain," she answered. "Regret. Loops echo. They hum with the things we don't let go."

Kael sat down beside her. "You always talk in riddles."

"I talk how time talks," Luma replied. "It's not my fault if you don't speak its language."

Kael almost smiled, but then he remembered Maya—her eyes in the shadow. Her smile just before she vanished.

He hadn't told Juno.

Not yet.

It didn't feel right to.

The silence between them grew heavy until the AI voice interrupted: "Approaching the Rift Sector. Detour advised."

"Ignore it," Juno said. "We don't have time for detours."

"The Rift is unstable," the AI repeated. "Survival rate: 41%."

Luma's cube blinked red.

Kael leaned forward. "What's the Rift?"

Juno sighed. "It's a pocket of warped space. Gravity forgets how to behave there. Ships fold. Memories too."

Kael glanced at Luma. "Will we forget things?"

"Not unless we hold on too tight," she whispered.

Kael didn't like that answer.

They entered the Rift an hour later.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the ship shivered.

It wasn't mechanical. It was something deeper—like the vessel had a soul and that soul was afraid.

The stars around them twisted. Lines bent. Light turned to colors Kael had no names for. His head ached just trying to focus.

"Stay sharp," Juno warned. "Time drips weird in here."

Kael stood to check the hull monitors. That's when he saw it.

A man.

Floating outside the ship. No suit. No gear. Just a red scarf trailing behind him in the void.

He wasn't dead.

He was watching.

"Juno?" Kael whispered. "Please tell me you see that."

She looked. Froze.

"That's impossible," she muttered.

The man raised his hand.

And waved.

Kael's heart dropped. "He knows us."

Luma stood slowly. "That's Tamor."

Kael turned to her. "Who?"

"He was an Architect," she said. "Before they fell. Before they rewrote the code."

Juno's voice was tight. "Tamor disappeared decades ago."

Luma nodded. "They erased him. But the loop remembered."

Without warning, the ship lights blinked out.

Total darkness.

Kael's breath caught. He reached for Juno—but she wasn't there.

"Juno?!"

Silence.

No hum of engines.

No AI.

Just black.

And then…

A voice. Soft. Cracked.

Like something ancient crawling out of a memory.

"Kael…"

He turned slowly.

Maya.

Standing in the dark.

But not the same.

Her eyes glowed with static. Her voice echoed like a skipping record.

"You left me."

Kael backed away. "This isn't real."

"You forgot me," she said, stepping closer. "Just like they wanted."

He shook his head. "No. No, I didn't—"

"You looped right past me," she whispered, pressing her hand to his chest. "And now… you'll forget again."

Suddenly—light returned.

Kael was on the floor. Alone. Sweating.

Juno burst into the room. "Kael!"

He stared at her, confused. "What happened?"

"You collapsed," she said, helping him up. "You were screaming something about Maya."

He didn't speak. Just touched his chest.

It still felt warm where she touched him.

Luma walked in, holding a damaged wire.

"We were breached," she said. "By memory."

Kael looked up. "Is that even possible?"

"Only in the Rift," Luma said. "The place where time forgets the rules. It pulls your regrets forward. Makes them wear faces."

Kael sat down hard.

Juno looked concerned. "She said your name?"

Kael nodded.

"She wasn't just a memory," he said. "She knew things. Recent things."

That made Juno freeze.

"She's alive?" she asked.

Kael didn't answer. He wasn't sure anymore.

Maybe Maya was a ghost.

Or maybe… the loop never let her die.

Before they could speak again, a loud thud echoed from the ship's lower deck.

Kael and Juno exchanged looks.

Luma pointed toward the sound. "Something followed us in."

They ran down the corridor, footsteps loud against the silent ship.

They found the door to the cargo bay bent inward. Like something had punched its way in.

Inside, in the flickering lights, a figure lay unconscious.

Teenage. Wounded. Breathing.

Luma gasped. "That's him. My brother."

Kael stared.

The boy had black ink leaking from his eyes. Not blood—loop ink.

His fingertips twitched like he was still trapped inside something invisible.

Juno bent beside him, scanning for vital signs.

"He's alive. Barely."

Kael knelt too. "Then we get him to Sobo. Fast."

Luma took her brother's hand, her voice shaking. "The loop was eating him alive. Bending his past into a cage."

Kael glanced at Juno. "Could that happen to us?"

Juno didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

Because it already was.

They returned to the bridge, dragging the boy gently into the med-bay.

Outside the Rift, stars began to behave normally again.

And in the distance, the outline of Sobo flickered into view.

Kael exhaled slowly.

Home.

He hadn't been there in years.

He didn't know what memories waited for him there—or which ones would lie to his face.

But he knew one thing:

The Hollow One wasn't after random people.

It was after those who remembered.

And Kael?

He remembered everything now.

To be continued…