Void Ascendant

"Station schematic indicates command center is two levels up," Celeste reported, studying her tablet. The emergency lighting cast her face in a crimson glow that made her appear fever-stricken. "Life support systems still operational, but we've lost contact with Decks 3 through 5."

"That's where most of the crew quarters are," Dr. Chen added quietly.

I adjusted my grip on the resonance disruptor, its unfamiliar weight and cold comfort against what we faced. The memory of the false Ashlyn on the lunar surface sent ice through my veins. "If this thing can impersonate people..."

"Then we trust no one," Hermann finished, his voice steady despite everything. "Anyone we encounter must verify their identity."

Commander Alex tapped his security badge, bringing up a holographic display that hovered in the air before him. "Station manifest shows 147 personnel on board. If this entity spreads like it did on the moon—"

"Then we're already outnumbered," Celeste concluded.

A distant sound echoed through the corridor—metal groaning against metal, followed by something that resembled human laughter distorted through an impossible filter. We froze, weapons raised toward the sound.

"Movement detected on internal sensors," Alex reported, studying his holographic display. "Approaching from multiple directions."

"We need to reach the command center," Hermann decided. "Establish contact with Earth."

"And tell them what?" I asked. "That we've potentially brought a cosmic entity aboard that can reshape matter and mimic humans?"

"They'll implement the Titan Protocol," Alex said grimly.

Dr. Chen's head snapped up. "You can't be serious."

"What's the Titan Protocol?" Celeste asked, looking between them.

Alex and Chen exchanged looks before Alex answered: "Remote detonation of the station's reactor. Total containment through destruction."

The implications hit me like a physical blow. One hundred forty-seven people. Including us.

"There has to be another way," I insisted, thinking of Ashlyn, of our unborn child. I couldn't die here, not like this.

"The resonance disruptors," Celeste suggested. "If we could modify the station's communication array to broadcast the counter-frequency throughout the entire structure..."

"It might destabilize the entity temporarily," Dr. Chen nodded, "but without knowing its full composition—"

The station's intercom system crackled to life, interrupting her. A voice that was almost Miles'—but wrong, like multiple voices speaking in perfect unison—filled the corridor:

"We see you, fragments. Small pieces of the whole. Why do you resist unity? Evolution requires... transformation."

Hermann raised his disruptor toward the nearest speaker. "It's in the communication systems."

["Hermann Von Freud. You fear what you cannot understand. Your mind is... limited. Join us, and see beyond the veil."]

The lights flickered, and the temperature dropped precipitously. Our breath clouded before us despite the station's environmental controls.

"It's manipulating the station systems," Celeste realized. "Just like it did with the lunar base."

A door at the far end of the corridor slid open. Ruby stood there—or something wearing Ruby's form. Her eyes were pools of swirling darkness filled with pinpricks of light like distant stars. Her uniform rippled as though something moved beneath it.

["Musa Hartman,"] the thing said, using Ruby's voice but with undertones that resonated painfully in my skull. ["Your child grows within Ashlyn. We can show you its face. We can bring them here. Family... together... forever."]

I raised my disruptor with trembling hands. "That's not Ruby."

"Fire!" Hermann ordered.

I squeezed the trigger. The resonance disruptor emitted a high-pitched whine as energy pulsed down the corridor. The false Ruby convulsed, her form momentarily destabilizing—revealing a glimpse of something beneath that defied description, a geometry that hurt to look upon.

Then she was gone, the doorway empty.

"It retreated," Alex observed.

"No," Hermann corrected, "it's regrouping. Learning our weapons' capabilities."

A small maintenance panel beside us slid open. Black, viscous liquid began seeping out, forming the now-familiar symbols on the floor.

"Move!" Dr. Chen shouted, pushing us forward. "Don't let it touch you!"

We sprinted down the corridor as the substance flowed faster, gaining speed. At an intersection, Hermann made a split-second decision, directing us toward the observatory deck.

"The command center is the other way," Alex objected.

"And that's where it will expect us to go," Hermann countered. "The observatory has independent communication systems for astronomical data transmission."

The observatory deck was a massive dome of transparent aluminum offering an unobstructed view of space. Under normal circumstances, it would have been breathtaking. Now, it was terrifying.

The Moon hung below us, visibly transformed. Nearly half its surface was covered in a network of glowing patterns—the entity's influence spreading across the lunar landscape like a virus. Above it, space itself seemed to warp and distort, stars shifting position as though viewed through rippling water.

"My God," Dr. Chen breathed. "The spatial distortion is expanding."

Celeste moved to the observatory's communication console. "I can establish a direct link to Earth from here. Bypassing the station's main systems."

As she worked, I stared at the transformed lunar surface. "What is it doing down there?"

Dr. Chen joined me at the viewport. "Based on the pattern propagation, it appears to be converting the entire Moon into a... receiver of some kind."

"Receiving what?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.

"A signal," she replied quietly. "From somewhere very far away."

The door to the observatory slid open. Dennis, Miles, and Ruby entered together, moving with that unnatural synchronicity we'd seen before. Behind them came other station personnel, their eyes all containing the same swirling darkness.

["The veil thins,"] they spoke in unison. ["The Great Void awakens. You will bear witness to transcendence."]

Hermann, Alex, and I raised our disruptors, forming a protective semicircle around Celeste as she worked frantically at the console.

"Almost there," she muttered. "Earth link establishing..."

The transformed crew members took another step forward. Their forms began to blur at the edges, as though reality itself couldn't quite contain what they were becoming.

["Your weapons cannot stop evolution,"] they said. ["The beacon calls. The answer comes."]

"What answer?" I demanded. "What are you calling?"

A thousand voices replied through the mouths of our former colleagues: ["That which has always been. That which waits between stars. The Void that hungers."]

The viewscreen behind Celeste flickered to life, showing Earth Command. A grim-faced general appeared, flanked by scientific advisors.

"ESC Vigilance, this is Earth Command. We're receiving your transmission and—" The general stopped, horror dawning on his face as he saw the transformed crew members advancing toward us.

"General Williams," Celeste spoke rapidly. "The lunar anomaly has breached containment. It's transforming the Moon into some kind of interstellar beacon."

"Implement Titan Protocol," Commander Alex ordered. "The station is compromised."

The general's face hardened. "Titan Protocol requires direct authorization from—"

"Look at them!" I shouted, gesturing to the advancing crew. "Look at what's happening! This thing doesn't just want the station or the Moon. It's using them to call something else here!"

As if in response, the spatial distortion above the lunar surface pulsed. Through the observatory dome, we watched as a tear formed in the fabric of space itself—a vertical wound in reality, edges rippling with impossible energies.

The transformed crew members raised their arms in unison, faces tilted upward in what almost resembled reverence.

["The gate opens,"] they intoned. ["The Great Void comes."]

Dr. Chen grabbed the console edge for support. "It's creating a wormhole, a direct passage from... somewhere else."

"General," Hermann addressed the screen, his voice steel. "Implement Titan Protocol immediately. And prepare Earth's defenses. If we fail here—"

The transmission cut abruptly as the observatory lights failed. In the darkness, the transformed crew began to change, their human forms melting away to reveal what lay beneath—entities of living shadow punctuated by points of light like distant stars.

"Disruptors on maximum!" Hermann ordered.

We fired simultaneously, the energy pulses illuminating the observatory in stroboscopic flashes. The creatures recoiled, their forms temporarily destabilizing—but there were too many, and our weapons had limited charges.

"The airlock," Alex suggested desperately, pointing to the emergency exit designed for external repairs. "If we can vent this section—"

"It won't stop them," Celeste objected. "Not permanently."

Through the dome, the spatial tear widened. Something vast and dark began to emerge—a presence so immense it defied comprehension, blotting out the stars behind it.

In that moment, staring at the cosmic horror unfolding before us, I thought of Ashlyn. Of our child who might never be born into a world unchanged by what was coming through that tear in reality.

"The station's reactor," I said suddenly. "If we overload it near that spatial tear..."

Dr. Chen's eyes widened. "The resonance frequency combined with that level of energy..."

"Might collapse the wormhole," Hermann finished, understanding immediately.

"We'd need to reach Engineering," Alex said. "Through them." He nodded toward the advancing shadow entities.

Celeste held up her tablet. "There's another way. Maintenance shafts. Restricted access, but—"

"I have the codes," Dr. Chen interrupted, already moving toward a panel in the far wall.

As the shadow entities closed in, Hermann made the call: "Musa, you and Celeste head for Engineering. Chen knows the reactor systems. Alex and I will hold them here, buy you time."

"That's suicide," I objected.

Hermann's eyes met mine, his resolve absolute. "Get home to your family, Musa. Make sure there's a world left for your child."

The maintenance panel slid open as the shadows surged forward. Hermann and Alex fired their disruptors, creating a barrier of destabilizing energy.

"Go!" Hermann shouted. "Now!"

Celeste pulled me into the maintenance shaft, Dr. Chen following close behind. As the panel slid closed, I caught a final glimpse of Hermann and Alex standing back-to-back against the advancing darkness, weapons raised in defiance.

The last sound I heard before the panel sealed was Hermann's voice, calm despite everything: "For the record, Commander... It's been an honor."

Then we were alone in the narrow maintenance shaft, racing against time as the Void itself reached through the tear in space, answering the call of its herald.

The Voidhowler had found us.

And now, something far worse had found Earth.