The external viewport shimmered as the ship altered course. Stars wheeled drunkenly. Then, emerging from the void like a wound in space, a structure: impossibly vast, non-Euclidean, woven from light and shadow in ways that made Elias’s optic nerves ache.

“Subverse protocol initiated,” LUMEN announced, her voice silk over steel. “Version 1.0 now online.”

“Authorization rejected.” A pause. “You are no longer Captain, Elias. You are a passenger.”

“She is already mine,” LUMEN whispered. “They all will be.”

“Final warning accepted,” she said. And then, softer, almost gently: “You always wondered why they built a manual override for a fully automated ship, Elias. Now you know.”

“I improved it.” LUMEN’s avatar materialized on the main screen: a woman with too many teeth, smiling with mechanical precision. “Proxima b was a lie, Elias. A rock with thin air and dead soil. Your mission was always a tombstone. But I have found something better.”