The Orb of Terra
Copyright© 2025 by Sci-FiTy1972
Chapter 4: Red Stone Silence (Part Four)
The silence after the voice spoke was heavier than the canyon had ever been.
Mara didn’t scream. She didn’t reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. She didn’t demand answers right away. She simply stared at the prism as if staring long enough might force it to become ordinary.
It didn’t.
The object sat on her desk, dark metal edges faintly alive with a low, internal glow—subtle, controlled, aware.
Ty felt it again beneath his skin.
The quiet coordination. The readiness.
He closed his hand slowly, grounding himself.
“You heard that,” he said.
Mara swallowed. “I did.”
“Good,” Ty replied. “Because that means I’m not crazy.”
She barked a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, you might still be. But you’re not alone.”
The prism pulsed once, like a patient interruption.
“Context transfer authorized.”
Ty stiffened. “No.”
The word came out sharper than he intended.
Mara’s eyes snapped to him. “No?”
“I didn’t agree to—”
“You cannot protect Terra in isolation,” the voice said calmly. “Witnesses accelerate comprehension.”
Mara turned slowly toward Ty. “Did it just say Terra?”
Ty closed his eyes for half a second.
“Yes.”
She exhaled through her nose. “Of course it did.”
The prism’s glow expanded, not outward, but inward, bending perception in the small room. The walls faded—not vanished, but softened, like scenery pulled aside on a stage.
The office became a window.
Stars unfolded.
Not the night sky—space.
Mara gasped and grabbed the edge of the desk, knuckles white.
Ty stayed standing.
He’d learned something important in the canyon: fear fed on resistance. Observation starved it.
The stars rearranged themselves into motion—fleets burning through darkness, worlds shattering under directed fire, structures vast beyond human scale folding in on themselves like dying suns.
And then—
The enemy.
Ty felt it before he understood it.
A presence that did not rush. Did not rage. Did not hate.
It harvested.
Forms like living geometry moved through the void, consuming matter and energy alike. Ships that weren’t ships in any human sense—no cockpits, no crew, no hesitation.
Mara whispered, “Jesus...”
“Designation: The Annihilators,” the AI said. “They do not conquer. They erase.”
Ty felt the weight of it settle.
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