Kael donned the neural interface. Suddenly, he wasn't in the lab. He was standing on the bridge of the Latona , looking out at a sky where the stars were being stretched like pulled sugar. He heard the panicked breathing of the pilot and the rhythmic, melodic hum of something outside the hull—a sound that shouldn't exist in a vacuum.
As the extraction bar crawled toward 100%, the terminal light flickered. The files weren't just data; they were sensory logs. LAT-2B.rar
"We didn't crash," she whispered, her voice echoing through Kael’s headset. "We were invited." Kael donned the neural interface