The Foxfire Saga

As they began their retreat, Akiko's gaze shifted toward Raya.

The younger woman walked in silence, her head bowed, pistol gripped tight in one hand. The weight of what had happened to Darin hung over her like lead, but she kept moving, step by step, even as her shoulders sagged.

The chittering of spider bots grew louder in the distance, but the team pressed on. The promise of safety at the Reclaimer camp was the only solace they had left.

They had survived. But Akiko knew it wouldn't last. The station, and the entity within it, wasn't done with them yet.

As they trudged through the dim corridors, the sound of skittering bots faded behind them. Akiko slowed her pace until she was walking beside Raya.

She reached out, gently resting her hand on Raya's shoulder.

The girl flinched, but didn't pull away.

Akiko's voice was quiet, steady. "He's at peace now," she said. "You gave him peace. That's more than most ever get in a place like this."

Raya turned toward her.

Behind her visor, her eyes glistened. Her lips parted as if she might speak, but nothing came. Just a tight, brittle nod. Then her gaze turned forward again, her silence heavier than words.

Akiko didn't press. She let the quiet settle between them as they walked.

Her body ached. Her magic was spent. Her thoughts felt like wires pulled too thin. But something in Raya's quiet grief struck a chord, something that stirred beneath the exhaustion.

A need to make something. To shape meaning from the ruin.

They reached the Reclaimer camp.

The lights were too bright after the dark corridors. The movement, the voices, the repairs. It all felt distant, like a world she was only half-connected to.

Akiko drifted toward Raya again.

"Hey," she said, tone lighter. "Does this camp have a forge?"

Raya blinked, startled. "A forge?"

"You know," Akiko waved a hand vaguely, "where blacksmiths hit things with hammers until they turn into swords?"

Raya stared at her.

Then her brow furrowed. "We've got a fabricator," she said slowly. "It's not a forge, but it can print pretty much anything. Assuming you've got the schematics. Might take a few hours if it's complex."

Akiko's lips tugged into a faint smile.

"Good enough," she said. "I might need to borrow that."

Raya tilted her head. "What for?"

Akiko shrugged. "Nothing crazy. I've just been winging it with scrap metal and instinct. Thought it was time I made something real."

Raya's expression shifted. Still grief-shadowed, but curious.

"I can show you where it is," she offered. "If you've got an idea."

Akiko nodded, the spark of resolve catching light behind her eyes.

"Oh," she said. "I've got an idea."

Beneath her fatigue, Akiko felt the faintest flicker of purpose return.

Whatever her AI companion had in mind, she'd make it real.

The Iron Reclaimer camp buzzed with motion. Tools clanged, systems hummed, and tension simmered beneath every conversation. Akiko moved through it with Raya at her side, feeling the weight of eyes tracking her.

Her newly regained freedom had not gone unnoticed.

Some watched with curiosity. Others, with unease.

But Hayes' gaze was the one she felt most keenly, sharp and unrelenting, never quite leaving her. Every step Akiko took felt like it was being measured.

She met Hayes' eyes briefly.

No words passed between them. His jaw was set, silence louder than judgment. Still watching. Still waiting.

Akiko sighed inwardly and looked away, trying not to let the scrutiny get under her skin.

Raya, oblivious or simply unconcerned, glanced over her shoulder. "So... what exactly are you planning to make with the fabricator?"

Akiko scratched at her neck, eyes flicking to the vague spot where her AI's diagram had hovered. "It's... a tool," she said. "Something to help level the playing field."

Raya tilted her head. "A weapon?"

"Not exactly," Akiko replied, ducking aside as two Reclaimers pushed a crate past. "It's... complicated. Honestly, I'm not even totally sure how it works."

Raya blinked. "You're building something and don't know what it does?"

Akiko smirked. "I trust the friend who designed it. They've got a good track record."

Raya looked more confused than ever. "Who is this friend?"

"Long story," Akiko said, waving it off. "Let's just say they're really into schematics."

They reached the edge of the camp, where a squat, industrial-looking machine rested against the wall.

"That's the fabricator," Raya said. "It can print anything with a schematic file. Just slot it in."

Akiko stepped forward, examining its smooth exterior. It looked like something out of a dream. Sleek, humming, ready. A display lit up at her touch.

Her suit clicked softly.

A thin cable uncoiled from her arm, accompanied by a blinking HUD icon: a downward arrow pointing toward a folder.

"Helpful," she muttered.

She lifted the wire.

"What's that?" Raya asked.

"Connection thing," Akiko replied vaguely. "Where's it go?"

Raya pointed to the base of the machine. "There. Once you plug in, it should start loading automatically."

Akiko slotted the wire in. The machine gave a contented hum, its screen blooming with schematics and scrolls of data. A blue-glowing diagram appeared: flat, compact, alien in its simplicity.

Raya squinted at it. "Weird shape."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Akiko hesitated, then shrugged.

Raya didn't press. She stepped back and gave Akiko room.

The progress bar ticked forward. Estimated time: several hours.

Akiko leaned against the wall, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

It was in motion now. With nothing to do but wait, she let her gaze wander.

Near the edge of the camp, Hayes and Cassandra were deep in what looked like a heated argument. Hayes pointed. Right at her. Cassandra stood firm, arms crossed, every bit the mountain he couldn't move.

Akiko smirked.

He's furious. Good. Let him burn.

He couldn't do a damn thing about it, not until they were back on the Sovereign.

And by then...

Something would have to change.

Her eyes shifted again, toward a quieter corner of the camp.

Mark Weston stood there with Lila Corson, speaking low. The body language was careful. Subtle. Too subtle. Mark's posture was closed, his hands buried in his pockets. Lila gestured softly, her voice too low to catch, but her expression was intense.

They clearly thought no one was watching. They were wrong.

Akiko narrowed her eyes.

Too careful. Too polished. Mark always said just enough to sound helpful, but never more than that.

Her gut prickled.

The angle of his head, checking for observers. The hush in his stance. Whatever they were discussing, it wasn't something the Sovereign crew, or the Reclaimers, were meant to hear.

Her thoughts went back to the aid he'd promised to shore up her cover. Useless now. Maybe that was for the best, since he was about as subtle as a pile of bricks.

"Still a few hours to go," Raya said, drawing Akiko back.

Akiko nodded slowly. "Plenty of time to people-watch."

Raya arched a brow.

Akiko didn't elaborate. She folded her arms and leaned back, eyes drifting once more to the conversation in the shadows.

Whatever he's hiding, hopefully it won't come back to bite me.

For now?

She had bigger things to build.

The hum of the camp faded into background noise as Akiko drifted near the fabricator, her limbs loose in the microgravity. Exhaustion tugged at her. Her muscles heavy, her mind finally still. No entity.

No whispers. Just her.

Then a sharp chime snapped her eyes open.

She blinked, momentarily disoriented, feet pressing instinctively against the bulkhead to anchor herself.

The fabricator's screen pulsed with light. Progress bar full, schematic marked COMPLETE.

Nearby, Raya looked up from her kit. "Is it done?" she asked, pushing herself from the wall to drift closer.

Akiko stretched, stifling a yawn, and nodded. "Looks like it," she murmured, brushing stray hair from her eyes. "Let's see what we've got."

She lifted the fabricator's panel.

Inside: a device the size of her palm. Flat. Unassuming. Its surface gleamed faintly, etched with intricate runes that pulsed in quiet rhythm like a heartbeat.

Akiko turned it over slowly in her hands, frowning.

"This is it?" she muttered. "Doesn't look all that impressive."

Raya floated beside her, peering over her shoulder. "Huh. I thought it'd be... bigger."

"Yeah. Me too."

Her HUD flickered. A diagram popped into the corner of her vision, simplified and clear. A figure, an arrow pointing to the base of the skull. Another arrow pointing to the needle protruding from the underside of the device.

Akiko's eyes widened. That looked… painful.

"You've got to be kidding," she whispered.

Raya's brow furrowed. "What is it?"

Akiko held up a hand. "Complicated."

She studied the device again, thumb brushing the etched runes. It felt warm in her hand. Familiar, like something she hadn't realized she'd been waiting for.

Raya hovered nearby, concern in her eyes. "You don't have to do this right now," she said gently. "If it feels wrong..."

Akiko exhaled. "No," she said, voice quiet. "I think I do. I don't know what this is, but I trust my friend."

She gave Raya a faint smile. "Besides... what's the worst that could happen?"

Raya stared. "You are terrible at reassurance."

Akiko chuckled. "Yeah, I know."

Kaede always said she had a tendency to jump first and ask questions later.

She turned away, unsealed her helmet with a soft hiss, and let it float beside her. Then brushed her hair aside to expose the back of her neck. The HUD diagram blinked insistently. One breath. Then she pressed the device into place.

Click.

Pain.

A gasp tore from her lungs as the needle drove in. Her spine arched involuntarily, muscles seizing. She gripped the wall, fingers white-knuckled. The pain lanced up her neck, bright and brutal, nausea twisting through her gut.

"Akiko!" Raya's voice rang out, sharp and scared.

"I'm fine," she rasped, even as her body trembled. Her vision blurred. Her nerves flared like harp strings pulled too tight.

And then...something moved. Inside her.

A presence, threading upward through her spine. Not just invasive, entwining. It wrapped around her nerves, her senses, the shape of her thoughts. Not hostile. Not comforting.

Just there. Her vision stuttered. The camp dissolved into static.

Darkness. Weightlessness.

Light bloomed.

Akiko blinked and found herself standing. No longer in the camp, but inside something else.

Her mind?

The floor glowed beneath her feet, smooth and white, lit by an internal radiance. Translucent screens floated around her, displaying crisp lines of data: vitals, stamina, mana reserves.

She stared at the bars. One was full. Below it, a second flickered faintly. Empty.

"What... is this?" she whispered.

A soft chuff broke the silence.

She looked down.

A white fox stood at her feet. Its fur shimmered like moonlight, eyes glowing with the same light as the device's runes. It tilted its head at her, tail flicking gently behind.

Akiko's breath caught.

"You're..." she whispered. "You're my friend. Aren't you?"

The fox blinked, ears twitching. Then it gave a soft bark of affirmation.

It didn't speak, not in words, but its presence filled the space like sunlight cutting through mist. Calming. Familiar. Like a tether in the void.

Akiko's gaze shifted back to the floating screens, her attention drawn to the empty mana bar. As she focused, new data scrolled into view. The device's reserve, it explained, could augment her own mana, providing a temporary burst when needed. But it wasn't infinite. It filled slowly, drawing from her own capacity to replenish over time.

She exhaled, a mix of wonder and apprehension swirling in her chest.

The potential was obvious. So was the cost. This wasn't just a tool, it was part of her now. Bound in ways she couldn't yet fully grasp.

"Well," she murmured, eyes drifting down to the fox, "I guess we're in this together now."

The fox nodded once, its glowing eyes fixed on hers. Akiko felt a faint smile tug at her lips despite the strangeness of it all. Whatever came next, she had an ally now. One drawn from her own mind, forged in the strange union of code and spirit.

Reality returned in a rush.

Akiko found herself slumped against the bulkhead near the fabricator. Her body trembled faintly from the ordeal. The sensation of the device at the base of her neck was both comforting and unsettling. Like it was still adjusting to her, and she to it.

"Akiko?"

Raya's voice broke through the haze, edged with worry. She hovered nearby, fingers twitching. Clearly torn between wanting to help and not knowing how.

"I'm fine," Akiko rasped, waving a hand weakly. "Just... give me a second."

In truth, she felt anything but fine. She'd spent so long in her human guise it was becoming unbearable. Her head swam. What she needed was real rest, not the fitful dozing she'd stolen in brief moments of quiet.

Then something stirred inside her. A faint, playful yip.

The white-furred fox appeared in her inner vision, glowing eyes fixed on hers. With a small tilt of its head, it gestured toward something new: an icon hovering at the edge of her sight.

Unlike her suit's HUD, this one wasn't projected on glass. It was imprinted into her vision. As though it were part of her.

She blinked, startled.

The icon resembled a stylized kitsune wearing a sleek, segmented suit.

Her brow furrowed. Curiosity and hesitation tangled in her chest.

Then she shrugged.

"Alright," she muttered. "Let's see what you've got."

She focused on the icon. It responded instantly.

Warmth flared from the device at her neck, rippling outward through her body. Her Haven pressure suit responded in turn, reshaping itself in ways that defied logic.

She gasped as the rigid fabric softened, moving like liquid before settling into a form that felt… right. Natural. A true second skin.

The tension in her limbs eased. Her tail unfurled behind her, unrestrained.

She exhaled.

"Finally," she whispered.

Her gaze flicked downward to study the transformation. The material shimmered faintly, iridescent, with subtle runes etched along the seams. The pressure was gone. No tightness, no friction, just flow.

She reached for her helmet, fingers brushing the floating shell, but the moment her glove made contact, it shimmered. Shifted.

The surface blurred, folding inward like water around a stone. And then it was gone.

In its place, a subtle pressure circled her head. Runes flickered into being, tracing a veil of magic and light.

Not glass. Not alloy. Just glow, clear and weightless.

She touched her collar. The rim pulsed faintly under her fingers, etched symbols warm with meaning.

A nearby panel caught her reflection. The glow encased her face, perfectly sealed. A helmet with no seams, no edges.

She flexed her ears. They moved freely for the first time in what felt like days.

Her tail swished. She rolled her shoulders.

It felt good. To move without compromise. To be herself, fully.

A small sound of surprise snapped her attention to Raya.

The younger woman stared, eyes wide, jaw slack.

"Y-you're not—" she stammered.

Akiko arched a brow, a faint smirk forming.

"Human?" she finished, voice playful.

She stepped forward, letting her tail curl behind her, ears flicking. "Nope. Never was."

Raya's eyes darted between tail and ears, expression caught between awe and disbelief. "What are you?"

"A kitsune," Akiko said, as if it were obvious. "Fox spirit. Trickster. You know, the fun stuff."

Raya blinked. "But... you were human before."

Akiko chuckled, brushing her hair back. "That was a disguise," she said, voice softening. "This—" she gestured to herself, ears flicking again, "is the real me."

Raya shook her head slowly, shock melting into wide-eyed curiosity. "That's... incredible."

Akiko shrugged, her smirk shifting into a real smile. "Yeah. It's something."

Her gaze flicked inward, to the fox still watching her with a mischievous glint.

Then forward again, toward the darkness at the edge of the station.

"Let's just hope it's enough."