CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO :The plane’s engines whined against the frozen gusts outside, each vibration thrumming through Billy’s chest as he stared at the endless white below. The Arctic station, the next star-point in the Luoshen constellation, waited like a jagged tooth in the ice. Tyla sat across from him, her gloved hands tracing patterns on her tablet, eyes unreadable, lips tight with a mixture of excitement and fear. Owen leaned in between them, his brow furrowed and voice low.“We land in thirty minutes. Once we’re on the ice, it’s not just the cold we have to worry about.”Billy didn’t need him to finish the sentence. He already knew. The Curator had orchestrated this, and they were walking into a frozen trap with no clear way out. The relic, the heart of the constellation, was here somewhere, buried in ice older than memory, and someone—someone very clever—was already manipulating it.The snowstorm outside began to pick up, tiny crystals battering the fuselage, each impact sounding

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR :The Arctic station was no longer silent. The corridors they had carefully mapped moments ago now throbbed with an unnatural energy. Lights flickered as if in conversation, panels humming low, sending vibrations through the floor that made the hairs on Billy’s neck stand on end.“Everyone stay sharp,” Billy murmured, voice steady despite the rising tension. His eyes flicked from the flickering lights to the shadows pooling at the end of each hallway. “If anything moves, we react. No hesitation.”Owen’s breath puffed in icy clouds. “It’s worse than we thought. Thermal readings are showing multiple signatures—but none of them are human.”Tyla paused, tracing the warped displays projected along the walls. “Not human… or heavily manipulated. Whoever is controlling this, they’ve altered the station’s internal environment. The energy, the airflow, even gravity readings—everything is wrong. This isn’t just a station; it’s a trap that thinks.”Alice moved behind them, sca

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX :The Arctic wind outside the station bit like knives, rattling the outer walls with relentless persistence. Inside, the hum of the engine had subsided, leaving an almost suffocating silence. Billy, bundled against the cold, watched Tyla hover over the console, her gloved fingers dancing over keys, swiping through data streams that no ordinary human could decipher.“Your name…” Tyla’s voice cracked slightly, almost in disbelief. She didn’t look up at him immediately, focusing instead on the encrypted list flashing across the screen. “Your name is… here.”Billy froze, the weight of those words pressing like ice against his chest. He had prepared himself for many things in this mission, but seeing his name linked to the engine’s core, his bloodline effectively marked within the Luoshen records—it felt like someone had reached inside his very essence and exposed it for the world to see.Owen stepped closer, eyebrows raised. “That can’t be right. These are relic designa

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT :The Arctic wind clawed at the station’s walls like an angry beast. Snow whipped across the frozen landscape, stinging any exposed skin and reducing visibility to a few feet. Billy tightened his coat and stepped cautiously across the metal platform outside the station. The blizzard was relentless, but what unnerved him more was the unnatural stillness inside the station—a quiet that didn’t belong in a place so hostile.Tyla moved beside him, her boots crunching in rhythm with his own. She scanned the perimeter, eyes sharp, every nerve on alert. “The storm isn’t the only thing we should worry about,” she said, her voice low but clear. “Sensors are spiking in the east wing. Something’s moving in there.”Owen, carrying extra gear, muttered under his breath. “We’re getting too predictable. Every time we step, it’s like the station anticipates us. I don’t like this.”Alice, shifting nervously behind them, shot Owen a glance. “Predictable? You mean dead predictable if

CHAPTER NINETY :The Arctic station’s interior twisted before Billy’s eyes, corridors bending in ways that felt impossible. It wasn’t a trick of the light; the floor beneath them shifted subtly, the very structure responding to some ancient, unknown mechanism. Snow hammered against the exterior panels with a ferocity that made the walls groan, yet inside, it was quieter—too quiet—like a tomb built beneath the ice. Every step Billy took echoed with more weight than it should have, as though the station itself was aware of his presence.Tyla moved ahead, eyes scanning a holographic map projected from a flickering terminal. Her fingers traced the frozen constellation patterns, tracing the nodes as she muttered softly to herself. “Each point is a relic… each relic is a trigger,” she said. Her voice carried tension, almost fear, but also clarity. Billy noticed her hand tremble slightly, though she tried to mask it.Owen brought up the rear, clutching his rifle but more alert than usual. “S