I open my eyes.
The first sensation is silence.
Not the ordinary kind of nighttime quiet, when no one is talking and somewhere in the background instruments creak or hum.
This one is different. Deeper. Almost physical.
As if the world itself has paused for a moment…
held its breath…
and is now calmly watching to see what I will do next.
I lie still and don't rush to move.
Experience is an expensive thing.
Especially when you've already died once.
Carefully, I bend my fingers.
They move.
Good.
I check the other hand.
Working too.
Excellent.
Legs.
I give the command in my mind.
The muscles respond.
Still there.
I exhale slowly.
"Not bad," I mutter quietly. "Full package."
My breathing is deep.
The air is strange.
Too clean.
This is how a sterile laboratory smells…
or one of those ridiculously expensive medical ads where people are smiling after having half their organs replaced.
I inhale again.
Yes.
No dust.
No machine oil.
No ozone.
The purity is almost suspicious.
"Wonderful," I say. "So either they fixed me… or they're about to take me apart again."
My voice sounds normal.
A little hoarse.
But functional.
Already not a bad start.
I open my eyes fully.
At first the world blurs.
Smears.
Light.
Outlines.
Reality slowly assembles itself piece by piece.
And the first thing that takes shape in front of me is a face.
Leaning over me.
Familiar.
Far too familiar.
Beneath her skin, threads of golden light move slowly.
They flow smoothly.
Like blood vessels.
Except instead of blood—energy.
Alive.
I blink.
Memory snaps into place.
"Kelith…" I rasp.
She looks at me calmly.
And smiles.
A warm smile.
Incredibly human for a being who technically crossed into post-biological existence a long time ago.
"You came back, Axiom."
Her voice is soft.
Calm.
But at that exact moment another voice speaks from somewhere behind her.
"Well, finally."
And my heart suddenly skips a beat.
I know that voice.
Unfortunately…
far too well.
I slowly turn my head.
Not abruptly.
Sudden movements are a bad idea when you're still not entirely sure you're alive.
And I see her.
Liara Vess.
Standing two steps away.
Alive.
Watching me with the same look she had before every mission where the chance of survival was… a statistical rounding error.
My brain tries to explain the situation.
Fails.
Liara walks closer.
And suddenly she just hugs me.
I freeze.
Because I feel warmth.
I feel the pressure of her arms.
I smell her hair.
Too many details for a hallucination.
"You're back, idiot," she says quietly.
I remain silent for a few seconds.
Then I answer carefully.
"If this is heaven… it has suspiciously military staff."
Liara laughs softly.
And behind her, the others begin to appear.
Cal Irix.
Sergeant.
Platoon commander.
He walks closer and claps me on the shoulder hard enough that my spine nearly remembers a few old injuries.
"Good to see you, Axiom."
"Likewise, Sergeant," I say. "But if this is a post-mortem reunion, you could at least serve coffee."
Ronan Kreil.
Assault trooper.
He raises his hand in a brief greeting.
"We started placing bets."
"On what?"
"Whether you'd come back."
I blink.
"Hope the odds were decent."
Mira Vossen.
Sniper.
Standing slightly aside.
She simply smiles.
Calmly.
As if I've been gone for a week.
Not…
I look away.
Jake Thorn.
A mountain of muscle and heavy weaponry.
He nods.
"I told them this little maniac was too stubborn to die."
"That's not stubbornness," I reply. "That's poor survival instincts."
Eli Fern is already checking something on a holographic interface.
His fingers run across glowing panels.
"Signature matches," he mutters. "That's definitely him."
"Thanks, Eli," I say. "Nice to know I'm recognizable by serial number at least."
Silas Rowe.
Medic.
He examines me the way a mechanic examines machinery after a serious crash.
"We waited a long time for you."
A pause.
"Thought that was it."
I look at him.
"Me too."
Two more figures appear behind them.
Bryn Havok.
Tarek Noll.
The entire platoon.
All of them.
I slowly move my gaze from one face to another.
Checking.
Comparing.
Looking for errors.
Holograms.
Illusions.
Any crack in reality.
Nothing.
I exhale quietly.
"No…"
Everyone looks at me.
I shake my head.
"No. Wait."
My heart begins to beat faster.
I push myself up onto my elbows.
Control my breathing.
Panic is a terrible analyst.
"You all…" I say slowly. "Burned."
Silence.
"I saw it."
The image flashes before my eyes.
Fire.
A destroyed compartment.
Ash.
"I saw you die."
The room grows heavy.
I look at them.
And quietly add,
"So either I've gone insane…"
A pause.
"…or we're all already dead."
I shrug.
"Honestly, the second option sounds a bit more optimistic."
Kelith steps forward.
The golden threads beneath her skin glow brighter.
"Axiom."
Her voice remains calm.
"You are inside the Ironheart Dyson Sphere."
I look at her.
She makes a small gesture with her hand.
And the air around us suddenly ignites with holographic lines.
Millions of connections.
Signals.
Consciousnesses.
A network.
Enormous.
Alive.
"You are part of our system."
"Great," I say. "I finally got connected to the cloud."
"You are carriers of matrices."
She looks directly into my eyes.
"And now all of you are effectively immortal."
I stay silent.
She continues.
"When your body is destroyed, the information from your matrices is transmitted here."
She touches the floor.
"To Ironheart."
A schematic appears in the air.
A network.
Consciousness vaults.
Body reconstruction systems.
"And both your body… and your consciousness are assembled again."
I look at the schematic.
Then at the platoon.
Then back at her.
And exhale quietly.
"Wonderful."
Everyone looks at me.
I shrug.
"I was starting to worry I'd lost you."
Liara laughs.
The sergeant shakes his head.
"Still the same."
But inside me another thought is already beginning to stir.
An unpleasant one.
Like a splinter lodged in the brain.
I forgot something.
I can feel it physically.
Memory begins to return.
Slowly.
In fragments.
A black hole.
The angel.
Experiments.
Pain.
A lot of pain.
Thousands of tests.
Captivity.
And…
the mission.
I tense.
Kelith notices immediately.
"Axiom."
Her voice grows more serious.
"You will undergo a full restoration and scanning procedure."
I look at her.
"You were a prisoner of the Dark Mind."
She pauses.
"At the very center of its consciousness."
A map appears in the air.
Coordinates.
Signatures.
"And you brought us the coordinates of that object."
Cold runs down my spine.
"We will extract them from your mind."
She speaks calmly.
"All of this was part of our plan."
I repeat quietly,
"Your plan."
Kelith nods.
"A plan to defeat the Dark Mind."
I look at her.
At the platoon.
At my friends.
And in that moment memory crashes down completely.
Laboratories.
Interrogations.
My consciousness dismantled piece by piece.
Experiments.
Pain.
The black hole outside the observation window.
And the voice of the Angel.
"You are my best agent."
My heart speeds up.
My fingers tremble slightly.
I slowly close them into a fist.
Control.
First control.
Then action.
Inside me I feel something foreign.
A matrix.
A container.
An egg.
The Punisher.
And suddenly the thought assembles itself completely.
Cold.
Clear.
Logical.
I lift my eyes to Kelith.
To Liara.
To the entire platoon.
And for the first time since waking up…
I feel real fear.
But there is no panic.
Panic interferes with thinking.
So I simply reach a conclusion.
A very unpleasant one.
The Dark Mind didn't let me go.
It sent me here.
And it seems…
I am still
its best agent.
And if that's true,
then the next catastrophe
is already
inside me.