The transition from the ancient, copper-hued womb of Masada to the open, terrified expanse of the Judean night was a plunge into an interstellar firing line. As the *Hesperus* rose on a cushion of pressurized amber-light, the *smell of the Roman rain* was a distant, dying frequency, eclipsed by the scent of "Ionized Starlight" , a sharp, electric crackle that tasted like ozone and silver-plate. This wasn't the heavy, industrial gravity of the First Ones; it was the "Aura-Pulse" of the White-Light vessels at Jupiter, a series of harmonic waves so powerful they were physically warping the rings of the gas giant into a series of concentric, golden halos.
Lila stood at the obsidian-reinforced helm, her hands fused to the vibrating glass. Beside her, *the sound of Ethan’s jagged breathing* was
