46. The Seed That Should Not Bloom

The Wraith limped through sublight space, its hull scorched from the ambush. Power flickered throughout the ship. The escape from Arkos had come at a steep cost internally and externally.

Damien paced the bridge, rerouting cooling systems to the starboard thrusters. "She's holding, but barely. We push her too far, she'll break apart like a soda can under pressure."

Elara didn't respond. She stood near the forward viewport, the data drive from Voss clutched tightly in her hand. Her knuckles were white.

Nova leaned against the wall, helmet off, brows furrowed. "That thing back on Arkos... it wasn't a Replicant. It wasn't even human."

"It was Seraph," Aeron said from the shadows. He hadn't moved much since they escaped. "Third Seed. Third and final."

Valen arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Because I dreamed of her before she opened her eyes."

A heavy silence fell. One by one, they turned to him.