Nucleus 1: The Dust of Moon [Mature Sci-fi Romance]

The Moondust Crystal lay within Imperial grasp, its ancient power promising to reshape the balance of the Inner Sol. As the Imperium prepared to demonstrate their prize's might in Celestial Reach on Osram, both the Alliance and Directorate moved to contest their claim, drawing three armies toward an inevitable collision.

Dilinur Altai commanded the Imperial Legion with calculated precision, yet even as she unleashed the Crystal's power, she sensed deeper currents stirring beneath their victories. The ancient artifact seemed to whisper of its own destiny - one that perhaps no single faction could contain.

Jabari Adomako stood resolute with the Kimaris Warband as they returned to Ndovu Zenith, the Emerald Directorate's capital on the near side of the Moon. Though they had relinquished a Crystal shard to save one of their own, the coming battle would prove that true power lay not in ancient artifacts, but in the bonds between warriors. As the Directorate prepared for war, their strength drew from something greater than mere relics.

The Terra Alliance would not sit idly by, either. Lorna Weiss and Zhi-Xin Wu returned from distant Shashan transformed by its alien mysteries. Their mission had yielded an unexpected discovery - her pendant contained its own fragment of the Crystal, with a second one entrusted to them by the Rakshasa Horde, who were now locked in a fierce tug of war with the Fenris in Proxima Centauri.

Yet even as Lorna and Xin's bond deepened, the birth of her Radi-Mon son Håkon raised questions about powers that transcended human understanding.

Each faction now holding equal information on the Moondust Crystal's shards, the next one was revealed to reside in Yosemite, California on Earth. An ancient place that had been undisturbed since the fusion era began.

As these bands of adventurers prepared to converge, none could foresee how the Moondust Crystal itself would respond to their clashing ambitions. Ancient fault lines waited to be triggered, promising to shatter not just the artifact, but the very foundations of power across the Inner Sol.

17:15, March 17, 2295

St. Elara's Medical Complex, Room 520B, East Wing, 52nd Floor, 2450 Riverside Drive, Evanston, IL 60208, Terra Alliance territory

The security camera in the corner tracked left, its red eye focusing on the scaled creature in Lorna's lap. She'd been counting - every seventeen seconds, like clockwork. The nurses who brought meals never entered anymore, just slid the tray through a gap in the door. This morning, she'd heard one whisper to another: "Three weeks and it hasn't eaten her yet. Jesus Christ."

"Ormr," Lorna whispered, watching Håkon's blue eyes track her finger as she traced patterns in the air. The word tasted of iron and ancient winters. Behind her, the room's holoscreen cycled through the day's headlines, volume low but present - civilization continuing despite the unusual March snowfall outside. "That means 'serpent' in Jǫturmál. Can you say it?"

Her son chirped, his scaled form coiled on her lap atop the white hospital sheets. In three weeks, he should have been the size of a wolf pup, if Doctor Nikki's medical texts about Diabolisks were accurate. Instead, he remained barely larger than a house cat, his head large for his body, brown-blue scales catching winter light from the windows.

But his sapphire eyes - those held an intelligence that made her chest tighten with equal parts pride and terror.

"Ormr. Ormr," Lorna repeated, stroking Håkon's back with one finger. The motion soothed them both, though she could feel the weirdness of it - this maternal instinct directed at something that shouldn't exist.

The word formed as Håkon attempted it: "Ormr!"

His mouth delivered the sound with child-like precision as a wisp of blue energy flowed between them like smoke. The energy tasted familiar, like ozone and starlight, like the moment before lightning strikes. It was the same energy that had pulsed through her when Skarn had overpowered her in the starport, bound and lifted her with his tentacles, then —

She cut off the thought, but not before Håkon chirped in concern, pressing closer.

"That's a good boy," pride swelled in Lorna's chest, one that mixed immediately with the fear in her stomach. She hadn't told anyone about this yet, not even Xin. How could she explain that her son was learning the language of the Fenris Horde? The tongue of those who'd destroyed her homeland?

"The answer's still no. I won't let you take Håkon out of here!" Doctor Nikki's voice came, sharp and determined.

Through the door's window, Lorna glimpsed Xin's lean frame, his hands moving as he argued. Behind him and Nikki, two orderlies lingered, pretending to check charts while obviously listening.

"I know how to take care of him, Doctor. You've shown me how to make his food, and...." Xin's voice carried through. "please, let us handle this. He's her son—"

"He's a Radi-Mon, for God's sake!" Nikki cut in. "If he escapes, it'd cause a public crisis. The Corporate Chamber is already asking questions about why we haven't—" she lowered her voice, but Lorna caught the word anyway: "—dissected."

Lorna pulled Håkon closer, with the urge to protect, to fight, to tear apart anyone who threatened her young.

The Diabolisk hatchling trilled - a sound that matched something deep in her virus-altered DNA, pressing his snout against her wrist.

Her reflection in the window made her pause. Three weeks should have left her tired, exhausted. Instead, the Nucleus Virus preserved her - skin still perfect, blue eyes bright despite the shadows beneath them. Even her hair fell in the same golden waves, untouched by stress. She looked like a doll, beautiful and wrong, housing something monstrous.

The strangest change, though, was what she'd lost. Three weeks ago, her skin had rippled with bioluminescent patterns whenever her emotions spiked - the Nucleus Virus announcing itself through her very flesh. But since Håkon's birth, that telltale glow had vanished. Dr. Nikki had run tests, finding the virus still active in her blood, still contagious, but somehow quieter. As if giving life to Håkon had satisfied some requirement, silenced some alarm in her infected cells.

The argument outside got louder as Xin's voice rose. "Doctor Nikki. If these past three weeks have proven anything, it's that Håkon won't leave us. We're a family."

"Family?" Nikki's laugh was sharp. "You're talking about emotional bonds with a creature that, without my professional supervision, could revert to base instincts at any moment."

"What are you talking about?" Xin's retort was instant.

"What happens when he gets hungry enough? When those instincts override whatever conditioning you think you've achieved?"

The words cut deep because Lorna had wondered the same thing during the long nights when Håkon would stare at her throat, his blue eyes tracking her with unnerving curiosity.

"There's no preventing what we've seen in other specimens," Nikki's words filtered through as the elevator at the end of the hall chimed.

Other specimens. Lorna's hand found Håkon's scales, feeling the patterns. How many Radi-Mons had SIMU, had the Alliance, had humans in the Five Realms, studied before? How many creatures like her son had their lives taken when they too, could have a soul deep down somewhere?

Through the window, Lorna watched both Xin and Nikki straighten as Director Artak Otis emerged. His white coat seemed to absorb the winter light. The old Valoran's gaze swept the scene, taking in Xin's protective stance and Nikki's rigid posture before settling on Lorna's room.

Håkon sensed the shift immediately. A low trill escaped him - not the chirp of a hatchling but something older, more primal. He coiled tighter in his mother's arms, and for a moment, Lorna felt his consciousness brush against hers through their shared psychic link.

Fear-protect-mother-danger.

It came through the connection before she slammed her mental walls shut.

"It's okay, Håkon," Lorna soothed, though her own pulse hammered. She ran a finger along his ridge of scales, watching as Otis turned and talked briefly with Nikki, their voices low and inaudible. "We'll be fine," she managed to say.

A moment later, the door opened, letting in Otis with Xin and Nikki behind him. The air pressure changed, and Lorna caught the scent of ozone that always accompanied the Director - leftover energy from whatever psionic defenses he maintained. She sat straighter against her pillows, aware of how the thin hospital gown draped over her frame, how vulnerable she appeared.

Her golden hair fell loose past her shoulders, framing features that remained striking even without makeup – a fact that had started to unnerve her. The Nucleus Virus had left her appearance unchanged, perfect, even when her insides felt hollowed out by exhaustion.

Håkon curled in her lap, trilling as he looked up at Otis — whether with the curiosity of a child, or with the assessment of a predator recognizing another, she could not tell.

"Lorna," Otis's steady gaze took in the scene with clinical precision. His accent carried the weight of authority — and the careful tone of someone assessing a dangerous threat. "I trust you're feeling better?"

"Enough to know you don't trust my son, sir," Lorna met his eyes directly, noting how his pupils dilated slightly. The sheet pooled around her waist as she shifted, one hand remaining protectively on Håkon's back. "Or me."

Xin moved to stand protectively beside her bed, a barrier between her and the others. His features set with quiet determination behind his black-rimmed glasses. The green fabric of his hoodie caught the winter light, making him look younger than his forty years.

"The situation is unprecedented, Director Otis," Nikki said, her surgical coat rustling as she gestured toward Håkon with hands that trembled slightly. "A human-born Radi-Mon requires supervision. The Corporate Chamber has been quite clear about their expectations for study. For Lorna's own safety—and the public's—I urge you to consider containment protocols."

"*Hábrók*," Lorna spoke clearly, the Jǫturmál rolling off her tongue before she could stop herself.

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Håkon immediately perked up, his neck extending with unnatural grace, each vertebra visible beneath his scales as they caught the light.

"Show them," she said.

Her son chirped once, then launched himself from her lap. But instead of wild, animalistic movement one might expect from a Radi-Mon, Håkon's leap was measured, deliberate.

He traced a perfect figure-eight through the air, his small form defying physics as he banked and turned. The lights flickered as he passed beneath them, and Lorna caught Nikki taking a step back, her hand moving to the panic button on the wall before stopping.

Then, as if aware of his audience, Håkon landed on the windowsill with delicate precision. What happened next made Lorna's breath catch: her son arranged himself in a specific pattern, his coiled body forming three interlocking circles - valknut, the knot of the slain. A symbol she'd seen in old books in her father Harald's study, but never taught her son.

"Remarkable control," Otis murmured. His eyes tracked every movement, cataloging, analyzing. "And he responds to your commands?"

"He understands more than commands." The words escaped before Lorna could stop them. She watched Håkon tilt his head at the falling snow, tracking individual flakes with an intelligence that seemed impossibly advanced for a three-week-old. "Though his body grows slowly…barely larger than when he was born. But..."

She trailed off, remembering this morning when she'd found him arranging her medical charts in order of date, his tiny claws surprisingly dexterous. Or yesterday, when he'd chirped in a pattern that matched her heartbeat exactly, as if trying to communicate a secret.

"Fascinating," Otis stepped closer to the window, and Håkon's blue eyes tracked him with unnerving focus. "The typical Diabolisk would be nearly a meter long by now. This arrested development combined with accelerated cognition. The Corporate Chamber would be interested — "

The steady rhythm of metallic footsteps announced Thomas's arrival before he appeared in the doorway, cutting off whatever Otis had been about to say. Despite his recent ordeal, he stood with military precision, though the shadows under his eyes told of sleepless nights and phantom pains from limbs no longer flesh.

"I overheard a few Jǫturmál words. Usually used by those Nordlings, right?" Thomas said, stepping into the room. His silver-gray eyes assessed Håkon with professional curiosity rather than fear. "Not sure how Lorna speaks it so well, though."

The observation hung in the air like an accusation. Lorna caught the slight tension in Otis's expression, the way his fingers twitched toward the pocket where he kept his recording device. He knew. Of course he knew about her true heritage, but how much had he hidden from the others?

Clearing his throat, the Director continued. "Your debriefing was most helpful, Thomas. The intelligence you've provided about Imperial Legion's formations and capabilities have been enlightening. Particularly regarding their handling of captured Radi-Mons."

"Least I can do, sir. Got our asses handed to us last time." Thomas replied, his voice carrying the weight of survivor's guilt. He moved to stand near the window, his cybernetic fingers flexing - a recalibration exercise Dr. Nikki had recommended, or perhaps nervousness at being so close to Håkon.

"I've convinced President Harrison to give us more resources this year." Otis remarked, voice softening as he turned to Lorna. "The two Moondust shards you've retrieved have helped immensely. Well done."

"I'm surprised, though." Thomas tilted his head, cybernetic hand gesturing toward the bedside table. "You've been wearing that amulet all this time, not knowing there's Moondust in it?"

Lorna's hand moved instinctively to her throat, where the pendant usually rested. The Moondust shard in her pendant - she'd carried ultimate power against her skin for years, feeling its whispers in her dreams. Why had her father Harald given the amulet without her knowing?

"I…" The words stuck in her throat like broken glass. "My dad gave it to me. Family heirloom."

The half-truth burned, but the whole truth was worse - that Harald II Omdal, wanted terrorist by both the Alliance and the Imperium, her missing pa, and possible architect of the Jokull Horde, had hung a fragment of cosmic power around his daughter's neck and stayed behind to delay Skarn all those years ago. Now, with the Pendant of Mánagrát at her bedside, Lorna felt like a lamb marked for slaughter.

"And he never told you about…the jewel?" Thomas asked, a golden brow lifted.

"I try not to think about it," she finished weakly, looking to Xin for rescue.

He read her need instantly, stepping closer to Thomas. "Actually, Thomas, I've been studying the pendant in my spare time. Did you know it emits a specific quantum frequency that seems to resonate particularly well with Håkon's brainwaves?" Xin pushed his glasses up his nose, slipping into his familiar professor mode. "I've been developing a whole theory about cross-species quantum entanglement. I could show you my notes—I have seventeen spreadsheets tracking the correlations!"

"The hell? Seventeen?" Thomas's expression shifted to alarmed, diverted.

Xin pulled out his Quantum Watch, queuing up what appeared to be an extensive data presentation. "Oh yeah! The mathematical patterns are fascinating. See this third regression model — it's almost like whoever made the Crystal studied Radi-Mons. But that's crazy, right? Radi-Mons didn't even exist in the Mesozoic Era."

"The what era now?" Thomas arched an eyebrow, his silver hand scratching the back of his head in genuine confusion.

"The Age of Dinosaurs! Yeah, the Triceratops were my favorite." Xin nodded enthusiastically, lifting a finger to point at a different projection. "See this? An adult Diabolisk shares approximately 83% of their genes with chickens, and since chickens are descended from theropod dinosaurs, including T-Rex, it's estimated that Diabolisk are traceable back to T-Rex. Humans also share around 60% of their genes with T-Rex — although that probably says more about us humans than Radi-Mons…"

"Perhaps another time, Xin," Otis said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been amusement or calculation.

Lorna caught Xin's eye, gratitude warming her gaze. But she noticed how Otis observed the interaction, how his eyes lingered on the pendant's resting place.

"*Heim*," She called sharply, needing to regain control. Håkon immediately returned to her, his movements gentle as he settled beside her. She caught the way he positioned himself - between her and Otis, protective despite his small size.

She looked up to find Otis studying her. But his words, when they came, surprised her: "Perhaps there are more paths forward than simple extermination. The old models of containment and study...they've been unproductive."

"Sir," Lorna straightened her spine. "Any word about Emmanuel? How's his recovery coming along?"

A heavy pause filled the room. Thomas's jaw tightened, his metallic fingers curling into a fist with a soft whir of servos. Even Nikki's clinical detachment wavered, her eyes dropping to her charts.

"His wounds from the Skuggr acid are healing slower than we'd hoped," Otis said carefully, each word measured. "The neural tissue damage is extensive. He'll need another week in the regeneration chamber. The scarring might be permanent."

The implied severity hung in the air. Lorna recalled Emmanuel's screams as the Skuggr's acid had eaten through his combat armor on Shashan, the smell of burning flesh and fear. How his usually confident voice had broken into wordless agony before Tanha, Vyom and Kathrin had created the diversions that allowed their escape.

"If there's anything we can do to speed his recovery..." she began, knowing it was hopeless.

"Not yet." Otis turned from the window, snow falling silent beyond his shoulder. "The situation is complex. Which brings me to why I'm here." He gestured to Nikki, who produced a datapad from her white robes. "After consulting Doctor Nikki and reviewing the Corporate Chamber's...suggestions, We'll be recruiting new Psi Lynx agents this year while offering you a position in our intelligence division. Analysis work. Same pay grade. No field exposure."

"No." The word escaped her lips before thought could temper it. Lorna felt Xin tense beside her, but she pressed on. "I need to be in the field. Especially now."

"Because of what happened to Thomas and Emmanuel?" Otis's eyes narrowed thoughtfully behind his glasses. "Or because you believe you're already too far gone to integrate back into normal operations?"

The question cut to the bone. Lorna's gaze dropped to Håkon, then lifted to meet Otis's directly. "Because of everything." The words came slowly. "The past weeks on Osram, Shashan — what we witnessed. Not all Radi-Mons are mindless. Some of them spoke of a controlling force. This Hivemind —"

"Pure speculation," Nikki interjected, but her voice lacked conviction. "Information from known hostiles—"

"Who gave us a shard of the Moondust Crystal," Xin added firmly. "Who helped deliver Håkon. Who fought Skarn alongside us. If this 'Hivemind' entity they mentioned is real, then everything we think we know about the Radi-Mon threat needs reassessment."

Thomas stepped forward, the movement fluid despite his artificial limbs. "Director, I can confirm. During my...capture," he hesitated, metal fingers flexing with remembered pain, "Saw documents in their command tents. References to something they call 'the Hivemind', too. The Imperium thinks they can use the Moondust Crystal to sever its influence."

Lorna suppressed a shudder that had nothing to do with cold, covering it by adjusting the sheet around her waist. "The Crystal pieces we have – my pendant and the Rakshasa's shard. The way they resonate with each other, with Håkon..." She trailed off, remembering the blue light that had pulsed between them earlier. "There's a pattern. I think Håkon is part of it."

"All the more reason to study them in a controlled environment, then." Nikki pressed, taking a step forward that made Håkon's scales ripple with tension. "The behavioral patterns we're seeing: coordinated attacks across Earth, this theoretical 'Hivemind', all could be connected. The Corporate Chamber's approved enough funding for a new research facility. With both the Crystal and the hatchling as specimen —"

"Sorry, Doc. Håkon's not a specimen," Xin's voice carried unexpected steel. His normally gentle demeanor hardened into something protective and fierce. His hands had balled into fists within his hoodie's pockets, and Lorna could see the calculation in his eyes - like planning escape routes if needed.

"Xin," Otis raised a placating hand, though his tone remained carefully neutral. "You were ZenFusion's leading programmer. Surely you understand the value of controlled variables in research?"

"I also understand the value of family." Xin's response was immediate. "And of trust. The Imperium taught me what happens when we sacrifice individuals for data. I won't see it repeated here."

Thomas cleared his throat, drawing attention. "Sir, if I may." His cybernetic hand came to rest on the windowsill, inches from where Håkon had perched. "I've fought the Imperium for years. The things they do in the name of 'research'..." His eyes met Lorna's. "Some lines shouldn't be crossed. Not by them. Not by us."

Otis studied them all for a long moment – Lorna with her Radi-Mon son, Xin standing guard beside them, Thomas by the window with his cybernetic frame. The snow fell heavier outside. When he finally spoke, his voice carried weight.

"President Harrison and the Corporate Chamber have approved increased funding for our operations," His gaze settled on Håkon, who met it unblinking. "Perhaps SIMU's evolving circumstances justify a more... flexible approach to protocol."

Lorna felt her heart skip, hope warring with suspicion. "Sir?"

"If you insist on field work, you'll do so with teammates who can handle your unique conditions." Otis's tone suggested compromise as he gestured at Lorna before eyeing Xin. "And regular check-ins. Weekly reports on any developments. Can you do that?"

"Gladly!" Xin replied crisply.

"Good. Then see that you do." Otis nodded back.

"Director Otis?" Nikki started, her face flushing with indignation.

"The Diabolisk stays with his mother. I'll take personal responsibility for this decision. The old ways..." Otis gestured to the falling snow, to the world beyond that grew stranger by the day, "clearly aren't sufficient anymore."

"—if you insist. Sir," Nikki's posture deflated, disappointmen crossing her features as she moved toward the door.

"Moving forward, I expect detailed weekly reports on Håkon's development," Otis's commanding presence filled the room as he gestured toward Xin. "Growth patterns, behavioral changes, any abilities that manifest. Anything that may prove tactically useful or enhance our medical understanding of Radi-Mon physiology."

"Certainly!" Xin straightened, though Lorna caught the way his hand moved protectively toward her.

Relief flooded through Lorna, though she kept her expression neutral. "Thank you, sir."

"You should secure the Moondust shard in California while Emmanuel recovers." Otis moved toward the door, his white coat catching the light like a specter. He paused in the doorway and turned back, his eyes holding secrets. "Do not use it or any shard you already have. Not until we study them further."

Lorna frowned, her hand moving instinctively toward where her pendant usually rested. "I've been wearing mine for years without problems. Why the concern?"

Otis paused in the doorway, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on the frame. For a moment, something flickered across his features - not quite fear, but close to it.

"Intelligence suggests the shards may have...cumulative effects after each use." His voice carried weight, as if it was some personal experience. "We've observed behavioral changes in...'individuals' exposed to concentrated Crystal energy. Until we understand the mechanisms, discretion is better."

The way he said it - clinical, measured, but with an undertone that suggested he'd seen something that had shaken even his considerable composure - made Lorna's stomach tighten.

"What kind of behavioral changes?" Xin asked, immediately honing in on the specifics.

"The kind that make men hear voices that aren't there," Otis met Xin's gaze, then straightened before departing. "We don't know if the Crystal somehow has its own agenda."