Project Prometheus Ch. 70 - Teaser (Patreon)

“Uh… miss?” one of the younger men — barely more than a boy, really — said hesitantly. “You, uh… you recognize something?”

Qadira blinked, realizing she had been staring too intently. She forced herself to smile easily, shifting her stance into something more casual. It must have been a good one, as the man smiled back, looking as though he had been waiting for her to grace him with one.

“I might,” she said, pitching her voice to be friendly, almost sheepish. “I’ve seen similar stuff before. In old historical texts, mostly. I’m a bit of a history nerd.”

The man perked up immediately, eager for any expertise. “You think it’s Precursor?”

Qadira shrugged in an artful way that revealed nothing. “Maybe. It’s hard to say. Would you mind if I… took a closer look?”

“Yeah, sure!” he said, stepping aside with a grateful wave of his hand. The others, though wary, allowed it — curiosity getting the better of caution.

Qadira leaned over the table, letting her fingertips lightly brush against the cool surfaces of the weathered stone tablets. She ignored the metallic fragments for the moment, focusing on the writing. Most of the glyphs were weathered, some fractured beyond repair. But enough remained that her mind, honed through centuries of slumber and buried memory, began to piece them together.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she carefully rearranged the tablets, setting a few aside and reorienting the rest into a rough sequence that — to anyone else — would have seemed like guesswork. But to her, it was instinct, one she had honed through long hours of patience and study. She translated what she could in her mind, the old words rising from forgotten depths.

‘…sanctuary of thought… remote learning… preservation of knowledge…’

Wherever on this world these items had come from, one thing was clear; it had been an academy. A place where students — scientists, scholars, thinkers — could escape the chaotic churn of the industrialized worlds and study in seclusion. Her heart twisted slightly as fragments of memories flooded her mind. Had she walked these halls once and studied beneath these suns? The specific memory remained maddeningly just out of reach.

She turned her attention briefly to the metallic shards, noting the hard lines and utilitarian engravings. Her eyes widened briefly, but she played it cool, trying to keep all emotion from her face as she looked at the fragments. Qadira knew what they were, and she was more than a little shocked at what she was looking at.

Military codes.

At some point, this peaceful sanctuary had been repurposed and converted into a facility for war. For what exact purpose, she could not yet say — but history had an ugly way of repeating itself, no matter the species. Qadira straightened, schooling her expression into careful neutrality. Inside, however, her mind was racing with possibilities upon possibilities.

‘This changes everything.’

Without another word, she turned from the table, leaving the group of bickering explorers behind in a daze. Her boots moved briskly across the sunbaked ground, headed back toward where her companions were finishing unloading the last of the Darkstrider’s cargo. She had to tell them that this wasn’t just a pit stop for supplies anymore. Avyke held secrets — secrets she could not allow to stay buried.