Beyond the Celestial Boundaries

The night outside was still, but inside AeroGallacianSpace, the weight of uncertainty pressed down like an invisible force. Cynthia remained in the lab long after Lena had left, staring at the propulsion system as if it might offer her answers.

They were close. Too close. And someone wanted to make sure they never reached the finish line.

A knock at the lab door broke her thoughts. She turned to see Prometheus standing there, his usual calm expression laced with something deeper—concern.

"You should get some rest," he said, stepping inside.

Cynthia exhaled, shaking her head. "I can't. Not now. Not with this." She gestured to the propulsion system, then to the screens still displaying the altered code Marla had found. "We don't even know how deep this goes. What if our entire system is compromised?"

Prometheus crossed his arms, leaning against the metal frame of the workstation. "That's why we brought in Marla. She's the best at uncovering threats like this."

"I know." Cynthia rubbed her temples. "But it still feels like we're always reacting instead of being ahead of them. Whoever did this—whoever left that signature—they wanted us to find it. That means they're planning something worse."

Prometheus studied her for a moment before speaking. "Then let's stop reacting. Let's get ahead of them."

Cynthia glanced at him, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

He tapped the screen where Marla had highlighted the signature. "We follow their lead, but we don't just track them—we set a counter-trap. Whoever left this signature, they're expecting us to investigate. But what if we make them think we've taken the bait more than we have?"

Cynthia's mind whirred. "You mean… make them believe we've uncovered something bigger than we actually have?"

"Exactly." Prometheus nodded. "We let them think we're walking straight into their game, but in reality, we'll be the ones leading them where we want."

A slow, determined smile spread across Cynthia's face. "That might just work."

By morning, the plan was in motion. Cynthia, Prometheus, and Marla worked in secret, ensuring that only a select few on the team were aware of their counter-operation. They carefully constructed a false discovery—one that hinted at them decrypting a deeper layer of the sabotage.

"We leak just enough information to make the mole nervous," Marla explained. "They'll have to act to cover their tracks or alert their handlers."

Lena and Marcus were brought in, their trust unquestionable. While Lena set up a separate monitoring system to track any unusual movements, Marcus created a decoy file—one that, if accessed, would send a silent alert directly to them.

"Whoever they are," Marcus said, his fingers flying across the keyboard, "they're about to make their biggest mistake."

The waiting game began. The team went about their usual work, maintaining the illusion of normalcy while watching for any suspicious activity. Cynthia tried to focus on the propulsion system's final calibrations, but the tension in the air was thick.

Then, it happened.

Lena's terminal flashed red.

"Someone's accessing the decoy file," she said, her voice hushed but urgent.

Cynthia and Prometheus rushed to her station, Marla right behind them.

"Can you trace it?" Prometheus asked.

Lena's fingers moved swiftly, bypassing security layers to pinpoint the source. "It's coming from… the upper-level research lab."

Cynthia's breath caught. That wasn't just any lab—it was one of their most restricted areas.

Marla's expression hardened. "Then we have our mole."

They moved fast. Cynthia, Prometheus, and Marla headed toward the research lab, careful not to raise suspicion. As they approached the door, Marla motioned for silence. She drew a small device from her pocket, tapping a few buttons.

"Scrambling outgoing signals," she whispered. "Whoever's in there can't warn anyone now."

Cynthia took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Inside, a single figure stood hunched over a terminal, fingers still poised over the keyboard. At the sound of the door, they spun around, eyes wide with shock.

It was Dr. Adrian Wolfe—one of their senior aerospace engineers.

Cynthia's stomach dropped. Adrian had been with the company for years, one of the most brilliant minds on their team.

"Adrian?" she said, disbelief mixing with anger. "What the hell are you doing?"

Adrian's face paled. He glanced at the terminal, then at Marla, who was already disabling his access.

"I…" He swallowed hard. "I can explain."

"No." Prometheus's voice was like steel. "You're going to tell us exactly who you're working for."

Adrian's shoulders sagged. He knew he was caught.

"It's bigger than you think," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're not just fighting Vincent Kane. There's someone else—someone more powerful, pulling the strings behind him."

Cynthia's pulse pounded in her ears. "Who?"

Adrian hesitated, but before he could answer, Marla's device beeped loudly.

"Damn it," she muttered. "We've been compromised. Someone knows we've found him."

A sudden explosion rocked the building.

The lights flickered. Alarm sirens wailed. The ground beneath them trembled.

Cynthia's mind raced. This wasn't just sabotage anymore. This was war.