STARLIGHT UNBOUND by Deus Ex Machina - HTML preview

STARLIGHT UNBOUND

What does it mean? Why can ’t she shake the feeling that it matters?

Corin watched Lyra waiting near the door. His voice was quieter now. “Are you with us, Lyra? Really with us?”

“You know I am.”

He studied her before nodding. “Good.” Without another word, he stepped past her and disappeared towards the exit.

Lyra stayed behind. I’m with you. But there’s something else—something bigger. I just don ’t know what it is yet. Or how to tell you.

***

Lucien sat at the dining table, the black disk resting in his palm. It felt deceptively simple —smooth, featureless, and matte black, broken only by the constellation of tiny golden dots etched into its surface.

He turned it over slowly, his fingers tracing the edge as his thoughts churned. The dream still clung to him. The starburst. The void. The house. Flashes of something half-remembered, fragmented like pieces of a puzzle he couldn ’t quite assemble. It means something. It has to.

He activated his wrist device. A soft vibratiom against his skin as the sleek band came to life, scanning the disk in a slow, methodical sweep. The dots shimmered beneath the sensor's glow, but nothing obvious appeared.

Lucien frowned. No identification, no signal, no data, no clue.

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the pattern. It wasn ’t random. The dots formed a shape —something familiar, yet out of reach. He traced invisible lines between them, his mind turning over possibilities until a realization struck.

A constellation but one he doesn’t recognise.

Pulling up the AstroSYS database, he cross-referenced the pattern against the system ’s vast star charts and city maps. The screen cast a sterile glow, lines of data scrolling with each query. Seconds stretched, and then —

A match.

The screen blinked:

Coordinate Output: Sector 5. Sublevel 3.

Lucien stared at the readout, his heart fluttering.

Sector 5.

His grip on the disk tightened. He shouldn't even be considering this. No deviations. No unnecessary risks. That’s how the system worked. That’s how he had always worked.

And yet—

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