THREADS OF THE BROKEN FUTURE
CHAPTER NINE – Silent Dominion
The eerie quiet of the damaged Niajamy vessel made Maya's footsteps feel loud, echoing off metal walls and empty corridors. Each piece of advanced technology she encountered made her pulse quicken. Power cells, tactical systems, data banks. Everything she needed to make Psychon impenetrable.
Her mind was already building blueprints, imagining the fortress that was Psychon. Restored and unbreachable. She would build defenses no force in the galaxy could penetrate – not even the Dorcons.
She would not let Psychon die, she would not let her father be taken from her before his dream was fulfilled.
As she brushed her fingers over a shimmering panel, she stilled. A different vision flickered through her mind, a memory that felt like a gentle whisper. A man's voice, soft and warm. A gentle hand brushing her cheek, tenderly tracing the outline of her jaw.
His name slipped through her mind like smoke—too fragile, too distant to hold onto. But the image… the sensation, it lingered. His love. His promise. Just for a moment, she felt the strength of that beautiful connection. It overwhelmed her. She blinked back tears, trying to steady herself.
What good is love?
Bitterly, she reminded herself that love could not protect Psychon, could not rebuild Psychon. Love could not heal her father. Love was powerless against the decay of worlds. And yet, the flicker of warmth remained, almost painful in its persistence.
Psyche's thoughts curled in her mind, a cold, ancient voice that reminded her of her purpose. She continued walking down the ship's dim corridors, her lingering memory swallowed by the shadows. Every step echoed the truth Psyche had instilled in her: You are the guardian now. The protector.
Every corridor, every darkened corner in the Niajamy seemed to warn against Psyche.
Some power is not meant to be yours.
But Maya brushed this away.
It is mine, she thought, defiance mixing with a strange hunger she didn't recognize. Power, control, safety. She would make them hers and, through her, Psychon would rise again, become the beautiful world that it once was.
Finally, she reached the ship's bridge. The consoles flickered in a pattern that felt almost alive, loke remnants of the lost crew of the Niajamy.A cold thrill ran through her as she assessed every piece of equipment. The thought of her beauty and cunning luring other ships to Psychon brought an eerie smile to her lips.
I will call them across the stars. I will bring them to me.
Her fingers hovered over the control panel as another memory brushed against her mind, more insistent than before.
Him.
Leaning in, his lips against her forehead, his whispered promises. For a fleeting moment, his warmth threatened to thaw the ice Psyche had wrapped around her heart and soul.
If only he were here.
He'd rescue me, she thought, the ache of his absence piercing through her resolve.
He'd end this madness.
But he wasn't. He was nothing more than a dream now, a glimmer from another life.
He had never been anything more than a dream. He had never existed.
No one was coming to save her.
No one, she reminded herself, her lips hardening to a grim line.
She took a deep breath, letting the cold certainty of Psyche's will settle within her.
Her hand fell over the control panel, sealing her fate. The siren song Psyche had planted within her blossomed, seductive and unstoppable. The last ember of hope, that final whisper of her old self, flickered faintly before vanishing.
She was the guardian of Psyche now, the lure in the darkness.
And there, with only the faint hum of the ship surrounding her, she felt the thrill of power – hers, and Psyche's – filling and controlling her will and her mind.
She was the mistress of Psyche and she would do her bidding.