The Last Station Standing
"But the Hearth remains. The Vessel is still warm."
She saw a clawed hand—black, obsidian, and multi-jointed—reach out to a glowing control panel. The ship was a Scavenger-Dreadnought (a large alien vessel designed to strip-mine dead civilizations). It wasn't here to harvest DNA; it was here to eat the "Scraps" the Void had left behind.
"Elara!"
A hand slammed into her shoulder. The vision shattered like dropped glass.
She collapsed onto the hot asphalt, gasping for air. Kazimir was over her, his face a mask of frantic concern. He didn't use words; he simply gripped her forearms, his strength acting as a Neural Anchor to pull her back to the present.