CHAPTER 3-THE RING OF ECHOES
1306 Words
For several seconds, no one on the bridge breathed.
The ringworld stretched before them like a god’s abandoned crown—its inner surface glittering with continents suspended in impossible curvature, oceans clinging sideways to gravity wells, storms forming in spirals that moved upward instead of east. Sunlight refracted across its metallic frame, scattering into crystalline shards of color.
Aria had seen megastructures in simulations.
She had studied Dyson swarms in theory.
But this—this was alive.
Captain Rourke broke the silence first, voice raw.
“…By every star in the charts.”
Nova Ibarra squeaked. “Okay, okay, we didn’t die. We didn’t explode. But unless I’m hallucinating—which, honestly, is possible—we just jumped through a cosmic death wound and ended up at the center of engineering paradise.”
Lumen stepped forward, his optical lenses rotating as he scanned. “The structure is approximately ninety million kilometers in diameter. Composition: unknown alloy. Energy signatures…unclassifiable.”
Aria’s pulse hammered. “Can you locate the broadcast point? The source of the signal?”
Lumen tilted his head. “Triangulating.”
The ship’s console projected a series of shifting lines that converged on a single luminous point near the innermost arc of the ring.
“There,” Lumen said. “Approximately eight hundred kilometers inside the interior band. The signal originates from a sealed facility.”
Rourke frowned. “A facility?”
“Confirmed.”
Nova let out a hysterical laugh. “So someone built an entire galaxy-sized cosmic donut and then put a lab in it? Sounds about right.”
Aria didn’t laugh. Her eyes were locked on the projection.
She recognized the pattern.
The architecture in the hologram—the fractal symmetry, the flowing angles—she had seen it once before.
In her mother’s research logs.
Rourke studied her. “Commander? You look like you’ve seen this before.”
Aria swallowed hard. “I have.”
---
They descended through the ringworld’s atmosphere with cautious precision. The skies were streaked with unfamiliar colors—teal, violet, molten gold—forming impossible gradients that shifted like living paint.
Sensors fluttered.
Gravity fluctuated.
The ship groaned in protest.
“This place wasn’t meant for human physics,” Nova muttered through the intercom. “Half our instruments are screaming and the other half are lying.”
“Maintain trajectory,” Aria said. “Lumen, scan for atmospheric hazards.”
“No particulate toxins detected,” Lumen replied. “However, the oxygen content fluctuates by up to four percent every minute. Recommend environmental suits.”
Aria nodded. “Prep them.”
As they broke through the cloud layer, the landscape below erupted into view—endless forests of silver-leaved trees, shining rivers that bent in unnatural arcs, and crystalline formations rising from the ground like frozen lightning.
But the structure ahead dwarfed everything.
A towering complex of reflective stone and metal, built into the inner curve of the ring. Light pulsed from its seams. Patterns moved across its surface like flowing script.
Nova whistled. “That…isn’t human.”
“No,” Aria whispered. “It’s not.”
The ship touched down on a platform that unfurled from the complex like a mechanical petal responding to their presence.
That wasn’t comforting.
Inside the airlock, Aria sealed her suit. Lumen didn’t need one. Rourke snapped on his helmet.
Nova arrived last, muttering, “If I die, someone clear my browser history.”
“No promises,” Rourke said.
The airlock opened.
A soft breeze met them, carrying a faint hum—the same resonance as the signal.
Aria stepped onto the platform.
The air tasted like stormlight.
---
The interior of the structure was impossibly vast. Holographic symbols floated in the air like drifting embers. The architecture curved in all directions, as though gravity itself had been sculpted by design rather than laws.
“This looks…responsive,” Nova murmured, reaching toward a hovering symbol.
“Don’t touch anything,” Rourke warned.
But the symbol pulsed, sensing her presence.
Then the entire chamber lit up.
Lumen’s optics widened. “It recognizes us.”
“Not us,” Aria said slowly. “Me.”
She felt it again—that strange pull, like someone whispering her name through the bones of the universe.
The symbols shifted.
Rearranged.
Merged into a single projection.
A doorway.
Rourke stiffened. “Do we walk into the ominous glowing door? Or do we maintain a shred of survival instinct?”
Aria lifted her chin. “We go in.”
Nova groaned. “Of course we do.”
They entered the corridor beyond the projection.
As they walked, the walls shimmered with memories—fragments of recorded data, images of stars collapsing, galaxies spiraling, civilizations rising and vanishing. Information far beyond human comprehension.
Lumen slowed. “Commander. These appear to be historical archives. Millions of years old.”
Aria nodded, though her chest tightened.
Her mother had theorized something like this—a precursor species older than recorded time.
And they had built this place.
The corridor ended at a final chamber.
A small, circular room with a single pedestal at its center.
And on that pedestal—
A metallic sphere, cracked down the middle, pulsing faintly with the same nine-second rhythm.
Aria’s breath caught.
Her knees wavered.
Rourke stepped beside her. “What is it?”
“It’s…” Aria reached out, barely able to speak. “It’s the same design my mother worked on. She believed these objects were keys. Interfaces for some kind of—”
The sphere opened.
A soft hiss.
A warm light.
And then a hologram burst to life above the pedestal.
A woman.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Wearing an explorer’s suit faded by years of use.
Aria’s heart stopped.
“Mom?” she breathed, barely a whisper.
The hologram flickered—but the image steadied.
Dr. Selene Kehlani looked directly at them.
At her.
Aria’s vision blurred, though her body stayed frozen.
Rourke stepped back, stunned. Nova gasped. Lumen stood absolutely still.
The recording began to speak.
“Aria… if you’re seeing this, then I’ve failed.”
Aria staggered. Her breath broke in her throat.
Her mother’s voice echoed in the chamber—older, worn, desperate.
“I’ve discovered something catastrophic. A countdown—encoded in spacetime itself. I don’t know who built it, but it’s real. And it’s close. The Echo you heard is the beginning.”
The projection glitched, stabilizing again.
“Aria… you must leave the galaxy. This ringworld holds the map. Follow it. Find the origin. You won’t be alone.”
The hologram leaned closer.
Her mother’s expression softened, even in fear.
“I’m sorry. I love you. And if I never return—know that I tried to save you.”
The image flickered violently.
“Mom—no—wait—!” Aria stepped forward.
The hologram distorted.
Cracked.
Glitched.
Then—
A final message whispered through static:
“…they’re coming.”
The hologram collapsed.
The sphere dimmed.
Silence fell like a blow.
Nova swallowed hard. “Um…so—I’m guessing that was bad?”
Aria didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Because behind her mother’s final words, something else had appeared. Something that made her blood run cold.
Lumen pointed toward the ceiling.
“Commander,” he said softly. “We are no longer alone.”
Aria turned.
Through the translucent walls of the chamber, dozens of black, angular ships descended from the sky—fast, silent, precise.
Rourke cursed under his breath. “Ascendants.”
Aria’s stomach dropped.
Kaelis Vorn’s faction.
The ones who believed The Echo was salvation.
The ones her mother had feared.
The ones who had been hunting the signal too.
The chamber doors slammed shut as alarms flashed red.
The ringworld trembled.
Aria whispered, “It’s a trap.”
Lumen answered softly.
“No, Commander. It is a war.”
- Writer
