Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas

Back on the Phantom, some of the crew finally allowed themselves a sigh of relief.

But not me. And not Ranger.

We both felt it—this wasn't over.

An hour passed.Phantom was preparing to exit hyperspace.

"Commander," said the nav officer. "We're approaching re-entry into realspace."

I nodded, silent.

But the feeling in my chest—the pressure, the weight—only grew worse. A formless, choking instinct screamed at me.

We dropped out of hyperspace into what should've been a remote, empty sector of open space.

But it was too quiet.

Too still.

I frowned.