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

After the door closed, Thomas slumped against the wall. The toll of recent mission showed in the way his cybernetic hands trembled slightly before he clenched them still.

"Tom," Lorna's voice softened. "You didn't have to come. You should be resting."

"Couldn't stay in that room another minute," he replied, his silver-gray eyes squinting in amusement. He tapped his temple with a metal finger. "Too many echoes. Makes being alone feel like drowning."

Xin glanced at his Quantum Watch, tapping the surface in a nervous rhythm. "So I tried looking up info about this Akashic Call that Kathrin mentioned," he said. "Nothing on the Extranet. It's like Shashan doesn't exist in any database."

The words landed heavy in the room. They all knew what Kathrin had done – the barrier of emerald light, her serpentine silhouette against Shashan's violet sky as she faced down Skarn alone. The price of their escape measured in sacrifice.

"So, the Rakshasa Horde." Thomas observed quietly, his cybernetic hands opening and closing in that nervous habit. "Manny told me about them when I visited yesterday. Not sure which parts were bull or real. The whole thing sounds like science fiction."

Lorna's fingers found the Pendant of Mánagrát on the bedside table. The metal was warm, as always, pulsing with its own subtle heartbeat. How many secrets had her father woven into this gift?

"Sometimes truths are crazier than fiction," she murmured with a bitter grin.

"Yeah. From Xin's reports about those shape-shifters, the Sūkṛmucs..." Thomas continued, pushing himself away from the wall with visible effort, "they sound pretty tough. But against Skarn..." He left the thought unfinished, but they all heard it anyway - nothing could stand against the Fenris Horde's Primarch for long.

Håkon chirped, head tilted in what looked disturbingly like understanding. The sound drew a somber nod from Thomas, perhaps the closest thing to a smile he could manage.

"We have two Moondust shards now. Ready for the third?" Xin started, then seemed to gather himself.

"Yeah. Somewhere in Yosemite, according to the data you gave us." Lorna echoed, pushing herself to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, sending shocks through her system. The virus had changed her sensitivity to temperature - she felt everything more acutely now, as if her nerves were rewiring themselves for a different kind of existence.

Håkon slipped from her shoulder with agility, now landing on the floor to investigate a tray of medical equipment methodically. He prodded each instrument in turn, trilling with curiosity, sapphire eyes blinking with intelligence.

"I've read some stories about California. The Golden State Republic, right?" Xin moved closer to Håkon, ready to intervene if needed. "Apparently it was part of that old world union — the United States. Not sure why it didn't join the Terra Alliance."

"Nah. The Cali decided the Alliance ain't good for them." Thomas grinned, a ghost of his old humor flickering through. "Didn't like how we tried to shut down their 'Eat-The-Rich' program."

"I see that local politics here are complicated, too." Xin chuckled nervously, watching as Håkon began arranging the instruments.

"Like good old medieval times." Thomas maintained his smile. "Their 'Social Equality' system is cool, though. If you're okay with the lack of free speech that comes with."

"We're there for the Crystal. They'll stay out of our way if they want to live." Lorna's voice carried an edge that surprised even her - something predatory creeping into her tone.

"Whoa, whoa." Thomas raised a silver arm. "Easy there, Psi Lynx. They're still Americans, just...different Americans."

"Right," Lorna caught herself, disturbed by her own aggression. Her reflection in the window showed eyes that glowed faintly blue in the right light. "Sorry. The virus makes me..."

"Assertive," Xin finished. "We know. Yeah."

Lorna then watched her son work, fascination mixing with unease. First, he arranged the instruments into a simple star pattern - just playing, testing their reactions. Thomas leaned forward with interest. Then Håkon's sapphire eyes tracked upward, fixing on something above the door.

An Alliance flag hung there, its maple leaf design flanked by eagle wings against a field of navy blue and white. Standard in every SIMU medical facility.

Håkon studied it for a long moment, then returned to his work with renewed purpose. A forceps laid horizontally. Three syringes positioned above it like stars. Two curved clamps forming sweeping arcs on either side, their steel surfaces catching the light like eagle wings flanking a maple leaf.

"Is he...?" Xin started, leaning forward.

"Making the Alliance flag?" Thomas said, stroking his chin in amusement.

A sharp crack split the air. They all turned to see Håkon had knocked over the medical tray, instruments clattering across the floor in a cascade of steel. But Xin moved quickly, scooping up the scattered equipment before any sharp edges could harm the young Diabolisk.

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Håkon froze, then made a sound suspiciously like an embarrassed cough - too human, too aware. But the sight made Lorna smile despite herself.

Through their shared psychic link came Håkon's voice - not words exactly, but concepts that settled in her mind like frost on glass.

Same-Nest-Different-Songs. Unity-symbol-important.Sorry-break-shiny.

"Right," Lorna sighed, her smile lingering. "First step: childproof everything."

"Yeah, that'd be good." Xin added as Håkon chirped, climbing onto Xin's left shoulder then perched there before Xin stood up slowly.

Lorna moved to her locker - one Xin had arranged with SIMU security. Her fingers found the biometric scanner, and the lock clicked open with a soft hiss. Inside, her weapons waited like old friends.

Baldr came first, the Psytum Sword's silver hilt cool against her palm. As her fingers wrapped around it, she expected something to feel different - the virus had changed so much about her. But the grip felt exactly the same, the weight perfectly balanced as always. The familiarity grounded her, a reminder that beneath the infection, beneath the new motherhood, she was still Lorna Weiss. Still a Psi Lynx.

Váli rested beside it, her custom white 10mm Magnum. She noted how the ergonomic grip still fit her hand perfectly.

She closed her eyes for a moment, reaching out telepathically to check the ammo inside the chamber. Exactly 24 bullets.

Her eyes opened, Lorna exhaled in relief. Despite everything that had changed, this remained constant. The thought brought unexpected comfort.

Yet as she holstered both weapons on her belt, a thrill ran through her - excitement at the prospect of battle that felt almost foreign. Why did the idea of combat make her pulse quicken now?

"Oh, your trench coat's on the Space Rover. Let me —" Xin chimed in, preparing to move towards the door.

"It's alright. We can fetch it later." Lorna waved dismissively, halting him.

"Hey. Your sword's glowing," Thomas observed, lifting his head, his light silver eyes catching details others might miss.

Indeed, both Baldr and Váli pulsed with soft blue light, their Echo Sapphires responding to something. Håkon trilled from Xin's shoulder, and the glow intensified.

"Interesting," Xin murmured, nodding as if this confirmed some theory. When Thomas looked at him questioningly, he simply adjusted his glasses and said nothing more.

The temperature in the room dropped suddenly, their breath becoming visible. Håkon's scales shifted, the brown portion deepening against the waning blue - an alert state. His small body thrummed with energy.

She glanced at the window and her blood ran cold. Frost spread across the glass in deliberate patterns, forming runes she recognized:

Mánafrjór Skarns-laun

[The Dust of Moon, the Prize of Skarn]

"Lorna?" Xin's voice seemed distant. Something wrong?"

Before she could answer, his Quantum Watch chimed - sharp, urgent. Diego's voice crackled through as his hologram manifested, dressed in his signature black suit but with his tie askew, eyes wide with urgency: "Guys, there's been a communication blackout in Stardust Command B7. Complete systems failure twenty minutes ago. The last transmission..." A pause that made Lorna's body tense up. "It came from Watrous's cell."

The name hit like ice water in her veins. Mac Watrous – the professor-turned-Draug she'd captured in Chicago. Living proof that some humans would embrace the virus willingly, trading their humanity for power.

"How long has he been contained?" Lorna demanded, already moving behind the privacy screen to change.

"Three weeks. Same as..." Diego's hologram flickered, his eyes moving to where Håkon perched. "Temperature in B7 has dropped forty degrees in the last ten minutes. Frost forming on the walls. Medical equipment failing."

"Someone's trying to break him out?" Xin's analytical mind was already racing ahead.

"Or he's breaking himself out," Thomas replied grimly, checking his weapon with practiced efficiency. "I saw what these Draugs could do in captivity. If he's manifesting psi abilities..."

Håkon let out a low, warning trill. With surprising agility, he scurried down Xin's arm and across the floor, his movements agile. As Lorna emerged from behind the privacy screen, he reared up on his hind legs, and she instinctively bent down to let him climb up her arm.

Lorna was now fully dressed, her weapons secured. Håkon settled on her left shoulder, his claws gently on her turtleneck without piercing the fabric. Before heading to the door, she caught her reflection in the room's full-length mirror and paused.

The woman staring back was both familiar and strange. Golden hair fell past her shoulders, framing features the virus had preserved in terrible perfection. But now Baldr hung at her hip and Váli rested in its holster - tools of war alongside the pendant that pulsed against her chest. And on her shoulder, Håkon perched like an war-familiar.

Warrior and mother. Infected and protector. She was still Sigrún Fjeld.

"I guess we'll pay that bastard a visit first," she said, turning from the mirror.

"Hey. You don't have to—" Thomas began.

"Amiga, sure about this?" Diego's hologram flickered slightly on Xin's watch, his concern evident even through the projection. "You've been out of action for three weeks. And with Håkon—"

"I'm coming with you." Lorna's tone brooked no argument. "Watrous knows things. About the Fenris Horde, about what's coming. We can't let him escape."

"Understood. I'll monitor from here and guide you through." Diego's voice steadied, shifting into operational mode. "B7's about a ten-minute walk through the secured wings. I'm pulling up the schematics now."

She adjusted her turtleneck, ensuring her weapons were secure. "Just another day in SIMU."

Thomas nodded grimly. "Diego, tell security to evacuate. Fewer casualties that way."

"Affirmative. También..." Diego paused, data streaming across his eyes. "I've repaired and — 'upgraded' — Emmanuel's Kinetic SMG. Drop by the lobby before you head out."

"Is this a good time for—" Thomas's eyes narrowed as they all moved toward the door.

"No seas tonto, amigo. It'll help. Promise." Diego's voice carried notes of pride.

As they walked down the corridor, Håkon chirped and nodded as his consciousness brushed against Lorna's again — stronger this time, more insistent. Through their connection came a single concept:

Pack-hunt-protect.

Whatever waited in B7 of Stardust Command, they would face it together.

The temperature continued to fall.