The rogue asteroid designated ‘Haven’ was a scarred, pockmarked remnant of some forgotten celestial collision, a mountain of iron, nickel, and silicate adrift in the void. To any scanner, it was just another piece of cosmic debris. To Roewi, standing in the Ghost’s airlock with only a thin membrane of manipulated reality between him and the absolute cold, it was a blank slate. It was the first brick.
The argument had been brief but fierce. Myra had advocated for a hollowed-out moon. Kael for a fortified space station. But Roewi had been adamant. It couldn’t be a repurposed relic of the old world. It had to be something new, built from the bones of the indifferent universe, a testament to their purpose. It had to be a foundation, not a fortress.
[The asteroid’s composition is 68% iron, 22
