Echoes of Doubt

The hum of the Stardust Drifter was a lullaby Delan had grown accustomed to, a constant, low thrum that vibrated through the deck plates and into his bones. It was a sound that spoke of endless possibilities, of worlds yet unseen, and of a mission he was beginning to understand less with each passing cycle. Beside him, Lyra traced an invisible pattern on the condensation fogging the viewport, her brow furrowed in a way that mirrored the turmoil brewing within him.

“They’re called the Starfall Shards,” she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper against the engine’s drone. “Not simply artifacts. Shards. As if they were once part of something whole, something shattered.”

Delan shifted, his gaze flicking from the swirling nebulae outside to the intricate carvings on the Starfall Shard cradled in his palm. It was cool to the touch, humming with a latent energy that was both alluring and terrifying. He’d been told it could crack a moon, shatter a planet. He’d been *ordered* to collect them, but the ‘why’ had always remained a hazy, ill-defined directive from the shadowy figures who had plucked him from his quiet life.