The screaming began at dawn.
Reed stood at the reinforced viewport of Command Station Alpha, watching crimson auroras dance across the fractured sky of Sector 3. But these weren't natural phenomena—they were the psychic death throes of millions of minds being systematically extinguished. Lyralei had begun implementing what she called the Final Protocol: the complete suppression of consciousness across every territory that remained under her control.
"Status report," Reed commanded, his voice hollow as ash.
Lieutenant Commander Axis approached with the mechanical precision of someone who had learned to bury his emotions beneath duty. His young face bore fresh scars—souvenirs from the latest dimensional breach—and his eyes held the thousand-yard stare of a soldier who had seen too much.
