She stared at the words, her gloved hand still pressed against the cold, black monolith in the asteroid’s core. Her mission was simple: extract the relic, jump home, and save the solar system from the solar flare that would sterilize Earth in seventy-two hours. The relic was the only thing that could absorb the flare’s energy.

Remove failed. The message wasn’t an error. It was a verdict.

But the monolith wouldn’t let go. It had fused itself to the rock, to reality itself. Her extraction device had whirred, sparked, and then died.

Elara didn’t panic. Panic was a luxury for people with options. She tapped her comm. “Control, Vane. The relic is non-compliant. I need a new protocol.”

Elara smiled, blood on her teeth, and watched the stars spin. She had failed to remove. But she had not failed to save.