Beyond the Celestial Boundaries

The AeroGallacianSpace headquarters buzzed with quiet urgency. Cynthia, Prometheus, Marcus, Lena, and Marla were gathered in the secure server room, surrounded by blinking monitors and rows of machines humming with raw data. The revelation that Marcus had been framed changed everything.

Cynthia folded her arms, her gaze locked onto the endless stream of code scrolling across the main screen. "Alright, if the mole is still out there, then we need to assume they're monitoring us just as closely as we're trying to track them."

Lena, seated at the terminal, nodded as she navigated through layers of encrypted files. "Marcus and I are working on backtracking the transmission's origin, but whoever set this up covered their tracks well."

"We need a way to draw them out," Marla said, leaning against the desk. "A real one this time. No more guessing."

Prometheus frowned. "We already tried that with the fake propulsion breakthrough. They took the bait, but we focused on the wrong suspect."

Marcus exhaled sharply. "And now they know we're watching."

Cynthia tapped a finger against her chin. "Then we change the game. We make them think they've won."

Lena looked up from her screen. "What do you mean?"

Cynthia's lips pressed into a determined line. "We feed them something bigger. Something that forces them to act recklessly."

Prometheus tilted his head. "A second breakthrough?"

"More than that." Cynthia's eyes gleamed. "We create an opportunity they can't afford to pass up—something so important that their handler, whoever they're working for, pressures them into making a mistake."

Marla nodded in approval. "Smart. But it has to be something real enough to be believable."

Cynthia turned to Lena and Marcus. "Can you fabricate a critical vulnerability in our propulsion system? Something subtle—like a flaw that would delay production indefinitely?"

Marcus exchanged a glance with Lena. "Yeah… we could design a simulated failure in the AI-assisted fuel regulation system."

Lena's fingers flew over the keyboard. "If the mole believes we've hit a wall, they'll either try to fix the flaw for their employer… or sabotage us further."

Cynthia took a deep breath. "Exactly. And either way, they'll expose themselves."

The fabricated vulnerability was planted. A carefully worded internal report was sent out, marked Confidential—Engineering Team Only. The bait was set.

Now, all they could do was wait.

Night fell over the AeroGallacianSpace headquarters, the building quiet except for the hum of machinery and the occasional flicker of movement from the late-night engineering staff. Cynthia sat in the security control room, staring at the monitor.

Then—movement.

A terminal in Lab 2 came to life.

"Got something," Lena whispered, her eyes locked on the screen. "Someone's accessing the report."

Prometheus leaned in. "Can you see who it is?"

Lena's fingers flew across the keyboard, but the system denied her attempt to trace the user. "Damn it… they're using an anonymized session."

Cynthia's heart pounded. "Then let's catch them in person."

She motioned to Prometheus and Marla. Without another word, they moved toward Lab 2.

The dimly lit lab was silent, the hum of the equipment the only sound. Cynthia pushed the door open cautiously, scanning the room.

Then she saw the figure hunched over a terminal, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Step away from the computer," Cynthia commanded, her voice steady but firm.

The figure froze. Slowly, they turned to face her.

Lena gasped.

It was Dr. Adrian.

Dr. Adrian, the man they had trusted for years—their chief propulsion engineer—stared back at them, his face unreadable.

Cynthia took a slow step forward. "Why?"

Dr. Adrian exhaled sharply, his eyes dark with something between guilt and resolve. "Because you don't understand what you're playing with."

Prometheus clenched his fists. "Enlighten us."

Adrian shook his head. "I never wanted to hurt anyone. But this technology—true interstellar propulsion—it's too valuable to be controlled by one company."

Marla narrowed her eyes. "So you sold us out to Vincent Kane?"

Adrian flinched at the name. "Kane? No. You're looking in the wrong direction."

A chill ran down Cynthia's spine. "Then who?"

Adrian hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Marla to catch the subtle flicker of fear in his expression.

Before he could answer, the lab door slammed shut behind them.

The lights flickered—then went out.

Cynthia's breath caught in her throat.

From the darkness, a low voice echoed through the lab's speakers.

"You were warned not to dig too deep."

Then, the alarms started blaring.

And everything descended into chaos.