The Nova Sanctum drifted through the clouds, the hum of its engines steady and low. Inside, the crew sat in silence. No one spoke much—Reia was still flexing her wrists where the iron had cut her raw, Silas leaned heavy against the wall with his ribs bound tight, and Vyn sat with her head tipped back, her shadows curling faintly around her ankles like tired smoke.

Lucian stood by the viewing pane, arms crossed, staring at nothing. He didn't feel the bruises on his own body. He didn't feel the ache in his knuckles. His mind was fixed on only one thought: the Citadel. His sister.

When the Sanctum docked, the silence carried with them down the gangway. The familiar halls of the Citadel stretched before them, clean, polished, alive with soft light. Home. But something in the air felt off. Too quiet.

Lucian led the way straight to the sick bay. His boots struck sharp against the floor as he pushed the doors open.

The bed was empty.

The sheets were rumpled, thrown back as if someone had gotten up in a hurry. But Lucy hadn't been strong enough to get up. The monitor by the bedside let out a flat, steady tone, its screen blank. The room was cold.

Lucian froze in the doorway. Reia, Silas, and Vyn crowded behind him, their relief at being home curdling into a new kind of tension.

"Lucy?" Lucian's voice was low.

He stepped fully into the room, his eyes scanning the corners, the adjacent bathroom. Nothing. A cold knot tightened in his stomach.

"Citadel," he said, his tone sharp, commanding.

A neutral, feminine voice emanated from the ceiling. "Yes, Lucian?"

"Where is my sister?"

There was a brief pause. "Miss Lucy is not within the Citadel."

The words didn't make sense. "What do you mean, 'not within the Citadel'? I left her here. In this room. Is she in the gardens? The observatory?"

"My internal sensors do not detect her bio-signature anywhere within the perimeter," the AI replied, its calmness grating. "According to my logs, she was present in the sick bay. Now, she is not."

Lucian's hands clenched into fists at his sides. The air around him began to waver, a faint shimmer of distortion. "Show me the security feed for this room. From the moment we left."

A holographic screen flickered to life above the bed. It showed Lucy, asleep, her breathing even. The time code in the corner ticked by. Minutes passed. Then, without warning, the image glitched—a sudden, violent warp of static. When it cleared a split-second later, the bed was empty. There was no one entering, no struggle, no door opening. It was as if she had been erased from reality.

Reia was already pulling out a data-slate, her fingers flying across its surface. "I'm pulling the raw data, looking for any kind of tampering or temporal anomaly." Her brow was furrowed in concentration. "But Lucian... this isn't a system error. Something bypassed every security protocol we have."

Silas leaned heavily against the doorframe, his face grim. "Who could do that? Eron's dead. His whole operation is ash."

"Eron wasn't the only player in the game," Vyn said quietly, her eyes narrowed. She looked pale, her shadows clinging to her like a shroud. "This reeks of something else. Something older."

A flicker of light and a shift in weight on Lucian's shoulder announced another presence. Kaelis had returned, having shrunk down to his familiar, small lizard form. His golden eyes were narrowed to slits as he surveyed the room, his forked tongue tasting the air.

"The little blade is right," the dragon rumbled, his voice a low vibration against Lucian's neck. "This silence... it is not empty. It is full of an echo."

Lucian didn't look at him. His gaze was fixed on the empty bed. "What kind of echo?"

"Power," Kaelis hissed. "Old power. Not the flashy, burning kind you just faced. This is quieter. Deeper. It smells of dust and dead stars and portals that should have remained closed." He lifted his head, scanning the room with senses far beyond human. "A very old one was here. An ancient. That is who took your sister."

The word hung in the air. Ancient. It was a term that belonged in history texts and ghost stories, not in the clean, modern Citadel.

Lucian finally turned, his expression a mask of controlled fury. The spatial distortion around him intensified, making the lights flicker. "An ancient. Who? Where did they take her?"

Kaelis let out a puff of smoke. "Their name is buried too deep for a simple scent. But their purpose... that lingers. It is not a gentle purpose." He looked at Lucian, his reptilian gaze unwavering. "They wanted her specifically. This was not a random snatching."

Reia looked up from her data-slate, her face ashen. "He's right. There's a residual energy signature here. It's not any recognized form of magic or technology. It's... primordial. It doesn't just hide from cameras; it convinces reality itself that it was never there."

Silas pushed himself off the doorframe, his jaw set. "So what's the plan? How do we track a ghost?"

Lucian was silent for a long moment, his eyes burning into the empty space where his sister should have been. The victory over Eron felt meaningless now. A hollow ache had taken its place. He had one brother stolen and twisted by lies, and now his sister had been taken from the heart of their strongest sanctuary.

He looked at Kaelis. "You can follow this scent? This echo?"

The small dragon gave a slow, deliberate nod. "It is faint. Like a path through a storm. But yes. I can follow it."

"Then we follow it," Lucian said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. He looked at his team—exhausted, wounded, but unbroken. "Now."

Reia sheathed her blades with a definitive click. "I'll gear up."

Silas cracked his neck, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "Just point the way."

Vyn sighed, a sound of profound weariness, but her shadows solidified around her, coiling with renewed intent. "Of course. No rest for the wicked."

Lucian gave one last look at the sterile, empty sick bay. The quiet room was now a crime scene, a testament to an enemy they didn't yet understand.

"Citadel," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Lock down this room. Preserve everything. And prepare my ship for immediate departure."

"Acknowledged," the AI responded.

As they filed out, the weight of a new, darker mission settling on their shoulders, Kaelis whispered into Lucian's ear, his voice a grim promise.

"The trail leads into the deep dark, boy. Where the old things sleep. Are you ready to wake them?"

Lucian didn't answer. He just kept walking, his eyes fixed ahead, already chasing a ghost into the unknown.

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