The Celestial Arc drifted like a ghost across the stars.
Silence lingered over the crew. Not the silence of peace, but that of awe… and confusion. Cosmic stillness. Everyone had felt the shockwave of what Dave did. They had witnessed it — that flash of impossible power, the ancient being erased in a heartbeat — and somehow, the ship still felt too small to contain the weight of it.
Amanda hadn't spoken since. Betty either. The twins had tried to lighten the mood with sarcasm and terrible holograms, but even they gave up when Amanda disappeared to the top deck by herself.
Betty found her there an hour later, sitting cross-legged beneath the wide observation window, the galaxy blooming endlessly above them.
"You okay?" Betty asked, dropping beside her.
Amanda didn't respond right away. Her eyes were fixed on the stars — or maybe on something beyond them.
"Have you ever felt like… you're watching a movie about someone else's life?" she asked softly.
Betty blinked. "You mean the part where the mysterious guy obliterates a godlike being, then walks away like he just swatted a fly? Yeah. I'm still stuck on that scene."
Amanda exhaled. "No, I mean… the part where you start realizing you're not who you thought you were."
Betty leaned her head back against the glass. "I've been getting dreams."
Amanda turned.
Betty's eyes were serious. "Not nightmares. Just… echoes. Voices I don't recognize. Places I've never seen. But they feel familiar."
Amanda looked down at her hands. "There's something inside me, too. And ever since that fight—since he changed—I feel it moving. Like it's waking up."
⸻
Meanwhile, Dave stood in the training chamber, shirt tossed aside, going through slow, quiet movements. Not to train. Not to fight. Just to breathe.
He was always calm in battle. But now, alone, the emotions caught up.
He could still see their faces — Amanda and Betty watching as he became what he was trying to hide. The armor. The power. The truth.
A faint voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Nice form."
Dave turned. Amanda stood in the doorway, arms folded. Her eyes held something — not fear, but something worse: questions.
He smiled gently. "Trying to look cool?"
She didn't smile back. She walked in, her steps deliberate, quiet. She stopped a few feet from him.
"Was that the real you?" she asked.
Dave's smile faded.
"Yes," he said.
Amanda's voice barely cracked. "So who have you been this whole time?"
He looked down. "Still me."
"That's not an answer."
"I know."
He sat on the bench behind him, resting his arms on his knees. "The thing you saw me do… it's not a trick. It's not something I turn on and off. It's part of me. But I've kept it locked away for a long time. Because if I use it too much… Mira might find out."
Amanda blinked. "Mira… your mom?"
"She raised me. But no… she's not my mother."
Amanda lowered herself to the bench opposite him. "So who is?"
"I don't know," Dave said quietly. "All I have is a pendant. Her name was Djenna. That's all I know. Adele says I have her fire."
Amanda hesitated, watching his expression. "You're afraid."
He met her eyes. "Yeah."
Of you?
Of Mira?
Of what's inside?
He didn't say. But Amanda heard it anyway.
She reached out slowly, gently, letting her hand rest on his.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," she said.
Dave glanced at their hands, then up at her. Their eyes locked. Just for a moment, the stars fell away.
He laughed under his breath. "You're not scared of me?"
"I'm more scared of my own math grades, to be honest."
He chuckled.
Then she added, "But I am scared… of what this means. For me. For Betty. Why now? Why us? We didn't ask for any of this."
Dave's smile faded. "No one ever does. But you're stronger than you think."
"Am I?"
"You stood on the edge of the universe and didn't run. That's more than most."
Amanda looked away for a second, her cheeks warm. "You're better at this comfort thing than I expected."
"Don't tell Adele," he smirked. "She thinks I'm emotionally bankrupt."
Amanda finally smiled. Then… her hand lingered in his for a second longer than it should have. She stood slowly.
"Goodnight, Dave."
He stood too. "Amanda…"
She turned at the door.
He didn't say anything at first. Just looked at her. Not as a captain. Not as a Sphire.
As a boy who was tired of pretending.
"Thanks for not treating me like a monster."
Amanda's eyes softened. "You don't have to thank me."
And then she left.
⸻
Across the hallway, Betty was pacing in her room. Her palm pulsed again — that strange sigil. It looked like it was made of light and water, shifting between shapes she couldn't read.
And then… that whisper again:
"Return."
She stumbled back, breath caught. The room was empty.
Zyra's voice popped on her comms. "Yo! Betty! We got space ramen in the lounge! Emergency snack run!"
Betty didn't answer. She looked down at the mark again.
"What are we?" she whispered.
⸻
Elsewhere on the ship, Adele stood in the starmap chamber, fingers tracing a flickering constellation.
Dave entered quietly.
"She likes you," Adele said without turning.
Dave smirked. "Who?"
"You know who."
He walked beside her. "And what about you?"
"I like Amanda too."
He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean—"
Adele turned to him. "I'm not blind, Dave. I can see it. The shift in your aura. The way your voice softens around her. You're falling."
Dave rubbed his temples. "Why do you always say things like you're narrating my life?"
"Because someone has to," she said.
He laughed.
A beat passed.
"She's important," Adele continued, more seriously. "But not just to you. To everything. Her presence here… it wasn't an accident. The Nephirs sent her for a reason."
"I know," Dave said.
"Do you?"
He nodded. "I just don't care what reason it is. She's here now. That's enough for me."
Adele tilted her head. "You've changed."
Dave's voice was quiet. "I'm tired of hiding. Tired of pretending I'm just some kid raised on Earth. They need to know who I am. So that when the time comes… they don't fear what I'll become."
Adele placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just don't forget who you are now. Before the world claims you."
⸻
Somewhere far beyond, in a place without stars, something stirred.
Not Djarvan. Not yet.
But a mirror. A watching force.
Watching Amanda.
Watching Dave.
Waiting.
⸻
Back in her room, Amanda dreamt of a city in the sky — towers made of crystal and wind. In the center stood a woman, cloaked in golden mist. Her back was turned.
Amanda walked closer.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The woman didn't turn.
But her voice came like sunlight through water:
"Soon… you'll remember me."
And then she woke up, her heart pounding, her eyes glowing faint gold for just a second before fading.