Kaelen kept the sphere in a locked box under the bed.
He checked it every morning. Every night. The sphere was cold. Dark. Silent. For three months, nothing changed.
Then he woke to find it glowing.
Not black. Not white. Red. The color of blood. The color of warning.
Zara sat up beside him. “What is it?”
“The sphere. It's active.”
He pulled the box from under the bed. Opened it.
The sphere pulsed. Slow. Rhythmic. Like a heartbeat.
The presence's voice was faint but clear.
“The future humans made a mistake. The vessel is not permanent. It will degrade. In years. In decades. In centuries. But it will degrade.”
Kaelen slammed the box shut.
“We need to move it. Somewhere far from here.”
“Where?”
“The ring. The fragments. The future humans said the sphere would hold the presence fo
