Hazel Whitlock sat rigid at her console, eyes unfocused.

The harmonic wasn’t loud. Not anymore. It was clear.

Hazel… help… please…
…come with us…
…it sounds like home…

Not words now. Not sound. Just the memories of them echoing beneath her ribs.

“Lieutenant Whitlock,” Harper said gently from the command chair. “Talk to me.”

Hazel blinked hard, as if pulling herself back from somewhere far away. “Sorry, Captain. I…I’m monitoring the harmonic fluctuations. They’re stabilizing inside the boundary.”

Harper watched her for a long moment. “Sili, you have the bridge. Hazel, come and walk with me.”

Hazel’s breath hitched. “Captain…”

“That’s an order,” Harper said softly.

She nodded weakly and rose from her seat, following Harper a few steps down the curved walkway behind the bridge. The Atrium viewport behind them flickered with the anomaly’s silver‑black glow.

Only then did Harper speak, voice low enough to keep it private. “Hazel, you’re not fine.”

Hazel stiffened. “Captain, with respect, our entire crew is under stress. We’re inside a dimensional convergence. I don’t think…” her voice trailed off.

“Hazel,” Harper’s tone cut softly across her excuses. “I need you honest right now.”

Hazel’s jaw trembled.

Harper continued, “The moment we crossed that boundary, you went somewhere. Your focus vanished. Your pulse spiked. Echo felt it from across the bridge. Something is happening and I need to know what.”

Hazel closed her eyes. The harmonic thrummed again. The soundless echo of it curling under her skin. “It’s the voices,” she whispered. “From the Cambria. The Finch. My own voice repeating things I never said. It’s all back. All at once.”

Harper softened. “A flashback?”

“No.” Hazel swallowed. “A… bleedthrough. Like the boundary is thinning inside my head too.”

Harper stepped closer, enough that Hazel could feel her presence steadying her. “Hazel, look at me.”

Slowly, she lifted her head and met the Captain’s gaze.

“What do you hear right now?” Harper asked.

Hazel’s voice quivered. “Nothing I can repeat. Nothing literal. But I feel something. Like it’s aware of us. And when we entered…” She pressed a hand to her sternum. “It felt like the moment on the Cambria. When I heard myself calling for help.”

“Is it calling now?” Harper asked quietly.

Hazel shook her head. “Captain… it’s not calling me.” She hesitated. “…It’s recognizing me.”

Harper’s breath caught for a moment. “You’re sure?”

Hazel nodded. “It knows I’ve heard it before.”

Harper exchanged a glance with Sili, who was studiously pretending not to eavesdrop but clearly listening to the conversation.

Hazel continued, voice soft and shaking, “When we crossed the boundary, it was like the memory hit all over again. Not the sound but the feeling. Like stepping into a room you’ve been in before, even though you’ve never seen it.”

Harper’s expression tightened. “Echo said the same thing on the Finch. Recognition. Familiarity.”

Hazel wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s just stress or residual resonance. But Captain… what if it’s neither? What if something on the other side heard me as clearly as I heard it?”

“And what if,” Harper said, voice steady as stone, “we don’t jump to conclusions until we understand what this thing actually is.”

Hazel looked down. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Harper said as she reached out and took ahold of Hazel’s hands with hers. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

Hazel let out a shaky breath. “Do you think I’m compromised?”

“No.” Harper didn’t hesitate. “I think you’re connected. And I don’t know yet if that’s danger… or opportunity.”

Hazel blinked at her, surprised.

Harper continued, “You heard the Finch crew. They weren’t afraid. They were being pulled by something that felt welcoming. That doesn’t make it safe. But it means whatever’s on the other side isn’t malicious by nature. It’s… reaching.”

Hazel’s expression softened, though fear still lingered. “And I’m its… what? Conduit?”

“No,” Harper said firmly. “You’re our translator.”

Hazel swallowed. “And what if the message changes?”

“Then you tell me,” Harper said. “Immediately. No matter what.”

Hazel nodded slowly.

Another tremor hummed through the hull like a distant chime.

Harper glanced at the anomaly swirling beyond the viewport. “Are you hearing it now?”

Hazel closed her eyes.

A faint pulse rose in the back of her mind. It was warm, soft, almost inviting.

“Yes,” she whispered. “But it’s not trying to talk. Just… acknowledging us.”

Harper rested a steadying hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “Then let it. But you stay here with me. Don’t follow it anywhere.”

Hazel nodded, her breathing evening out. “I won’t. I promise.”

Harper gave her a small, earnest smile. “Good. Because we’re going to need you when it finally decides to speak.”

Hazel let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. And for the first time since the Cambria, the whisper inside her quieted. It wasn’t gone but it was also no longer clawing.

Almost as if… waiting. Hazel shivered.

Harper squeezed her shoulder gently, “Come on. Let’s get back to work.”

Hazel stepped back toward the bridge stations, the lights of the anomaly painting her silhouette in shifting silver.

And somewhere in the depths of that folding dark, a ripple answered.