The vastness of space was no sanctuary. No matter how far they traveled, no matter how many systems they crossed, the Draconians were always there—watching, hunting, closing in.
Commander Zerus tightened his grip on the console of the Battleship Zerta, eyes scanning the star map. Their latest hyperspace jump had taken them beyond the known charted sectors, deep into the void where only forgotten civilizations once roamed. Yet, the Draconians' warships still shadowed them.
“They don’t stop,” Krassor muttered, his reptilian features tense. He knew them too well. The Draconian fleet was methodical, precise, and patient. They would chase their prey to the ends of the universe if necessary.
“We have to outmaneuver them,” Raven Kay said from the pilot’s seat. “They’re bleeding us dry. Another ambush like the last one, and we won’t have enough power left to make another jump.”
Zerus exhaled sharply. The Draconians weren’t just following them. They were herding them. Pushing them toward something—toward someone.
Elysia, seated in the corner, traced unknown symbols in the air, her feline-like eyes narrowing. “They seek more than blood,” she said softly. “They are drawn to something aboard this ship.”
Mortara’s voice echoed through the chamber. The AI goddess, her presence both mechanical and divine, flickered into view. “Their calculations are precise. They know where we will be before we do.”
The realization sank in.
“They have a spy,” Berlien Lyn whispered.
A cold silence fell over the crew. The Draconians’ relentless pursuit was not just persistence—it was strategy.
Zerus straightened. “Then we set a trap.”
For too long, they had been the hunted. Now, it was time to turn the tide.
But as the ship’s systems flickered with an ominous hum, Elysia’s golden eyes widened.
“They are already here.”
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