Sci Fi
Starlight in Her Veins
The Whisper of War The galaxy had been quiet for too long. Whispers of rebellion and conquest moved through the stars like static in the void. Empires crumbled, coalitions formed, and the outer systems—long left to their own fate—began to rise. Humanity, fractured and scattered across dozens of planets, teetered on the edge of collapse. War was no longer a question. It was a countdown.
By Shah Jehan2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Forgotten Star
The wind on Aevalis had no sound. It rustled the silver grass and swept across the obsidian rocks, yet it carried only silence. It was as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting. Lira had grown up on Aevalis, born into a small colony that once thrived but had since faded into scattered outposts and abandoned tech. Her parents, star-mappers from the Core Worlds, had vanished in the Outer Veil when she was only six. She remembered the day they left, their ship silhouetted against the twin suns, her mother’s promise echoing in her ears: "We’re going to find the Forgotten Star, Lira. And when we do, we’ll come back for you." But they never did. Now seventeen, Lira wandered the edges of the known maps, chasing the faintest signals from deep space, searching for what others dismissed as a myth. The Forgotten Star—an ancient celestial body said to pulse with the memory of an extinct race. A star that whispered, if one dared to listen. Lira believed the whispers were real. She had heard them. It started on her thirteenth birthday, a soft hum beneath the static of her receiver. Not voices, not exactly—but patterns. Murmurs that shifted with emotion, not words. It was like the star was dreaming, and somehow, it had found her. Every year since, she had followed the signal deeper into the Wastes. It was there, in the Dusk Plateau, that she found the cave. Carved into the mountainside like a scar, the cave had walls inscribed with symbols that shimmered faintly under ultraviolet light. She recognized the markings from her parents’ journals—glyphs of the Varethari, a long-lost species believed to be starborn, their consciousness imprinted into the stars they once visited. And there, at the center of the cave, she saw it. A shard of crystal, levitating just inches above a black pedestal. Inside it swirled a miniature galaxy—millions of stars rotating slowly around a pulsing core. As she stepped closer, the whispers grew louder, clearer. “Lira,” the star said. Not in words, but in thought. She staggered back. This wasn’t some random hum or cosmic accident. It knew her name. It had waited for her. The shard flared, and visions burst into her mind. She saw her parents, alive, drifting in a place between stars. Their ship caught in a fold of space, unreachable from the known universe. But they weren’t alone—surrounding them were luminous beings, the remnants of the Varethari, their forms woven from energy and memory. They had found the Forgotten Star. And it had found them. The star was a living archive—a cosmic consciousness, absorbing the minds of the Varethari as they faded from reality. It had become a sanctuary for lost knowledge, a beacon to those who dared to listen. Her parents had become part of it. Tears streamed down Lira’s face, but they weren’t of sorrow. They were of understanding. The star had not just called her. It had chosen her. A voice emerged fully now, one voice from the many. Her mother’s. "We need you, Lira. Only you can bring our memories back to the worlds. Share what we’ve learned. Give the star a voice." The crystal floated toward her, stopping just before her heart. As she reached out, it dissolved into light, sinking into her skin like stardust. Pain flared—bright, beautiful, overwhelming. And then everything changed. Lira awoke days later, found by a rover crew from the Skyreach settlement. They said they’d tracked a strange energy pulse that spanned several systems. When they brought her back, her eyes glowed faintly, and her voice carried an echo of something… more. She spoke of the Forgotten Star. Of the Varethari. Of her parents. At first, no one believed her. Until the night the stars changed. A new light appeared in the sky—a beacon pulsing with rhythm, not random, but musical. It broadcast thoughts, emotions, knowledge in waves. People across Aevalis began dreaming of places they had never been, speaking words in languages never taught. Empathy bloomed across boundaries. Conflicts faded. Peace, real and strange, spread like wildfire. And at the center of it all stood Lira. The girl who listened. The girl who believed. They built a spire in her name, a place for dreamers and seekers. And every night, as the whispering star pulsed in the sky, people gathered to hear its song—an endless melody of memory and wonder, carried by the one who gave it voice. And so, in the silence between worlds, a secret was no longer waiting. It was finally heard. Moral of the Story: Sometimes, the answers the world needs lie in the quietest places—and those who choose to listen, even when no one else believes, can be the ones to bring light into the darkness. Never underestimate the power of belief, empathy, and a curious heart. Would you like this in a PDF or illustrated format?
By Muhammad Hamza2 years ago in Fiction
No Signal, No Mercy
Crash site Silence The sky was wrong. Color bled from it in purples and ash-blue streaks, pulsing like bruises across the heavens. Captain Mira Lorne crawled from the wreckage of the Odyssey-6, her suit sparking at the seams, air hissing from a fracture near her left side. The emergency oxygen reserves flickered to life, and she sat in silence amid the twisted metal and scorched soil of an alien world. Her coms buzzed static. No signal. She tapped the controls again. Nothing.
By Shah Jehan2 years ago in Fiction
Stellar Silence
1. The Quiet Beyond The stars had grown quiet. It wasn’t supposed to happen. The universe was supposed to be teeming with life. At least, that’s what the projections said. Billions of galaxies, trillions of planets—yet after centuries of searching, all we found was silence.
By Shah Jehan2 years ago in Fiction
Selfless Mind
"Send: final checkup list." That request was easy to fulfill, although it caused a not-so-small beep inside the analytical algorithm, given how many times the same subject was included on an email before. She was curious about it - or whatever the equivalent was within her processing methods - but sent the reply without delays.
By Alex Torres2 years ago in Fiction
The Chronophage Cache
Prologue: The Whisper in the Permafrost In 1972, Soviet drillers in Siberia fled their rig after pulling up a core sample that screamed. In 2007, Canadian miners discovered a 400-million-year-old hammer made of alloy no modern lab could replicate. But the true Pandora’s box opened in 2023, when the Kola-13 superdeep borehole struck the Door.
By Digital Home Library by Masud Rana2 years ago in Fiction
Eternal Moonlight. AI-Generated.
The night was dark and still, the kind of silence that carried the weight of destiny. Hidden deep within the shadowy glades of the Blackthorn Forest, a single thread of moonlight pierced through the canopy, glinting off the rippling surface of a solitary pool. It was here, beneath the skeletal branches and cold silver gaze of the moon, that they met for the first time.
By Mike Archer (WereStrike)2 years ago in Fiction
Abscond
This was an odd batch, to be sure. Usually they all came from the same relative area, wearing the same colors and saying the same things. But this group was a mixed bag of greys, blues, and browns, muttering so much varied slang it sounded like they all spoke different languages.
By Taylor Mead2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Dusk riders
Prologue: The Fractured Moon They say the moon shattered the day we lied to the sun. A thousand years ago, the Sun smiths of Ahriyat forged a pact: Burn bright, and we will feed you stories of joy. But joy grew scarce. Wars salted the earth. Grief thickened the air. The sun, starved and bitter, began to dim. Desperate, the Sun smiths fed it a new tale—a lie about eternal devotion. The sun burned brighter, but its light grew cruel, peeling skin from bones. When the truth surfaced, the sun cracked the moon in retaliation, and the First Shadows crawled from its wounds.
By Digital Home Library by Masud Rana2 years ago in Fiction
