The Verse Anchor's signal cut through the quiet hum of the central node like a clear alarm.
Atlas stood at the main console, arms crossed, watching the data stream across the display. The broadcast wasn't just reaching their settled systems. It had hit something old. Something that had been waiting.
"Starward Conclave sites," Clara said beside him, reading the incoming reports. "Dozens of them. Dormant since the last Reset. They're waking up."
Kael leaned in, his eyes sharp. "Observatories. Archives. Built to watch the edges of everything we know. This is bigger than mapping new routes."
Flick bounced on his heels. "Treasure hunt time. Ancient junk that might blow up or make us fly faster. I'm in."
Garran grunted. "We do this careful. No rushing in blind."
Torval nodded once. "Agreed. But we don't ignore it either."
