The hum of the Aegis-1 was unlike any machine Leo Vance had ever worked on. As a satellite technician, he was used to the harsh, industrial drone of cooling fans and the jagged static of high-voltage transformers. This ship didn't drone; it sang. It was a low-frequency vibration that seemed to resonate not in his ears, but in the marrow of his bones.
Leo sat in the medical bay, his skin still prickling with the silvery residue of the Goliath transformation. The room was bathed in a soft, amber light that felt warm against his exhausted face. Sarah was at the console, her fingers dancing over a surface of liquid light, her expression one of intense focus.
"You need to eat," she said without looking back. A small hatch in the wall slid open, revealing a tray with a glass of clear liquid and a block of what looked like compressed honey. "It's nutrient-dense. Your metabolism is currently running at three times its normal rate because of the DNA shifts. If you don't refuel, your body will start digesting its own muscle tissue."
Leo reached for the tray, his hand still trembling. The liquid tasted like rain and ozone—refreshing, but strange. As he ate, he couldn't stop staring at the heavy cuff on his left wrist.
[RECHARGING: 12.4%]
[SYSTEM STATUS: OPTIMIZING NEURAL PATHWAYS]
"It's changing me, isn't it?" Leo asked, his voice echoing in the small cabin. "Even when I'm human. I can feel it. My vision is sharper. I can hear the ship's engines in a way I couldn't before."
Sarah turned around, her iridescent blue eyes softening. "The Aegis isn't a coat you put on and take off, Leo. It's a symboite. It's rewiring your synapses to handle the data load. Think of it like a computer upgrade—except the hardware is your brain, and the software is the collective memory of ten thousand dead worlds."
Leo looked at the glass in his hand. "Ten thousand? You said this was a library. Who built it? Who decides who lives and who dies inside this thing?"
"Azmuth," Sarah said, the name sounding like a prayer. "The First Thinker of the Galvan. He saw the Hollow coming centuries ago. While the rest of the galaxy was arguing about border wars and trade routes, he was building a lifeboat. He knew he couldn't save the planets, so he decided to save the souls."
Suddenly, the Omnitrix began to vibrate. It wasn't an alarm. It was a beckoning. The emerald dial didn't pop up; instead, a thin beam of light shot out from the center, hitting the bulkhead in front of Leo.
The light expanded, weaving itself into a three-dimensional projection. It wasn't a map this time. It was a figure.
The figure was small, no taller than a foot, with grey skin and large, intelligent eyes that seemed to contain the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes. He wore a simple robe, and his hands were tucked into his sleeves.
"Is that him?" Leo whispered, leaning forward.
"A recording," Sarah breathed. "An encoded message triggered by your Sync Rate."
The projection spoke. The voice was thin, raspy, but carried an authority that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"To the Host of the Aegis Protocol: If you are seeing this, the Dead Zone has been breached. I am Azmuth. I did not build this device for glory, nor did I build it for war. I built it as a confession. We failed. We allowed the Void to consume the light because we were too busy fighting over the shadows."
The projection of Azmuth walked across the light, his movements fluid and precise.
"The device you wear is not a weapon, though you will be tempted to use it as one. It is an Archive. Each species within its core is a verse in the universe's final song. You are the singer, Leo Vance. Your DNA was chosen because it possesses the rare trait of 'Resilient Adaptability.' You can hold the fire without becoming the ash."
Leo's breath hitched. "He knows my name? How can a recording from centuries ago know my name?"
"The Aegis uses predictive temporal algorithms," Sarah explained, her voice hushed. "It didn't know your name when it was built. It calculated the most likely host in this sector and updated the message the moment it bonded with your spine."
The projection of Azmuth turned, looking directly into Leo's eyes. It was uncanny. It felt as if the tiny alien was actually there, judging him.
"Be warned, Leo Vance. The Sync Rate is a countdown, not a score. The higher it climbs, the more the 'Ghosts' will seek to reclaim the physical world. They are not evil, but they are desperate. They want to breathe again. They want to feel the sun. If you lose yourself to them, the Archive will close forever, and the Hollow will win. Stay human. Stay grounded. Find a reason to return to yourself after every transformation."
The projection flickered and vanished, leaving the room in a heavy silence.
Leo sat back, his mind reeling. Stay human. It sounded so simple, but he remembered the feeling of being Goliath. The cold, metallic hunger. The way Sarah had looked like a bug to him.
"How am I supposed to stay human when I have the power of gods on my wrist?" Leo asked, his voice cracking.
Sarah walked over and sat on the edge of the medical bed. She took his right hand—the one without the watch—and squeezed it. "You find an anchor, Leo. Something that belongs only to you. Not to the Archive. Not to the Vanguard. Just you."
"I don't have much," Leo admitted, looking at his grease-stained fingernails. "A beat-up truck. A mountain of debt. A father who doesn't even remember my name half the time."
"Then let that be it," Sarah said. "The struggle. The grease. The desert. That's Leo Vance. The Titan doesn't know what it's like to worry about rent. Cinder doesn't know the smell of rain on hot sand. Those are your strengths."
Leo looked at her, really looked at her. "What about you, Sarah? What's your anchor?"
She looked away, her blue eyes reflecting the stars outside the viewport. "I don't have one anymore. My world was the first to go. I'm a ghost, Leo. I'm just here to make sure you don't become one too."
She stood up abruptly, the moment of vulnerability passing like a shadow. "Get some sleep. We're crossing into the 'Silent Corridor' in an hour. The Vanguard has deep-space sensors there, and I'll need to manual-pilot the cloak. If we get caught up there, there's no atmosphere to hide in."
As she walked back to the cockpit, Leo lay back on the bed. He watched the red bar on the Omnitrix.
[RECHARGING: 22.1%]
[NEW DATA DETECTED: SPECIES 044 - SOUND-WAVE MANIPULATOR]
Another one. Another ghost. Another world waiting to be reborn through his skin.
He closed his eyes, but he didn't see the desert. He saw the "Hollow"—the great, yawning nothingness at the edge of the system. It was a mouth, and it was waiting for him to fail.
"I won't let you have it," Leo whispered to the darkness. "I'm not a hard drive. And I'm not a god."
He fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of silver blood and stars that screamed in the dark.
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