None too gently, they were ushered back to safety by Pragley. There was no talk, no idle chatter—just the steady sound of heavy breathing and hasty footsteps as they passed through the fields.

Finally reaching the farm, he practically pushed them past the door's threshold and locked it behind them. Once he was sure they were relatively secure within the house's walls, he turned on Val.

"How do you know that symbol?" he growled harshly.

Val was taken aback by the abrupt change in tone. "I-I told you, I saw it on my pod, the one I woke up in."

"Do you have any idea what it means?" Pragley hissed urgently. "Any idea of the significance that it carries?"

Wordlessly, he shook his head, becoming more and more frightened by the irva's aggressive interrogation. "I don't—I don't know what—"

"What do you know?"

"Prag, stop!"

Ten came to his rescue, standing in front of him and staring down her uncle. "Does it look like he knows what it means? Scaring him half to death isn't going to solve anything!"

Pragley's gaze snapped to her, and then back to Val—but this time, it was softer as he saw the look in Val's eyes. Just as suddenly as his anger had arrived, it dissipated.

"I ... you're right," he murmured. He glanced at Val solemnly. "Sorry, kid. I know you're not at fault here, I just ..." A shameful look overcame him, and he trailed off into silence.

She stepped towards him tentatively. "What is this about? What is it you're not telling us?"

He sighed heavily, seemingly contemplating whether or not to answer her. He eyed Val tiredly.

"I don't suppose you've heard of Eden?"

The boy stared back blankly, eliciting a weak smile from Pragley. "Figured as much."

"What does Eden have to do with this?" Ten inquired, crossing all four of her arms across her chest.

Val raised his hand up slowly. "Er, if I may—what is Eden?"

"Eden is a forbidden place, a mystery to the rest of Spectra," the gruff alien answered shortly, crossing his secondary arms. "It's in the center of the galaxy, and surrounded by an enormous energy cloud that destroys anything that tries to enter."

Val's breathing began to quicken. "An ... energy cloud?"

"Yeah," Prag answered, oblivious to his reaction. "Stretches for lightyears from one end to the other. Some say it's where life began, where motes of stardust came together from null-space and formed the first living beings. Others say the Architects predate Eden, using some unknown power within it to raise other creatures out of the mud, moving them to the Planes where they could grow and evolve freely before it was time to ascend—"

Val held both arms up, his eyes widening. "Okay, you're throwing out way too many terms that I have no meaning for. You two have talked about Sentinels, Architects, the 'Tenets', and now Eden, but what are they? How do any of these things fit together?"

Grunting, the large irva walked over to the couch and sat down. "Hmph. Well, it might just be easier to start at the beginning."

When neither Val nor Ten moved, he gestured to the other chairs in the room. "Go on, have a seat. This might take a while."

Obliging him, the two of them each found an adjacent seat and waited for Pragley to begin his tale. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together.

"Long ago, there were beings of unfathomable power that crafted Spectra, our galaxy, and gave life to us all—the Architects. They mastered the forces of reality, lit the stars in the sky, even wielded control over creation itself. And at the core of their dominion ... was Eden."

As he spoke, Pragley's face took on an expression of awe and admiration, his hands moving animatedly as he described their actions. "They were the ones who shaped Spectra into what it is today. Around forty-thousand years ago, they built the five Planes, massive artificial-worlds that surround the galaxy's core, for the chosen races to thrive upon until they were ready for Ascension."

"The chosen races?"

Pragley nodded. "Four of them, to be exact. The Irvagaleni, the Nox, the Kugraw ... and the Cell."

Val felt a chill run up his spine. "The Cell?"

The irva's face became dark. "As unlikely as it sounds, yeah. The Cell of millennia ago were very different from the creatures they've become. At some point, they became obsessed with the concept of gene-splicing. And centuries of tampering with their own genes has left them permanently changed, no more than monstrosities of nature now. Their genetic code is so botched up, they can't even reproduce with each other anymore."

"So ... what were they chosen for?"

Pragley shrugged. "No one knows, not at this point. Whatever purpose there may have been, it's been lost to time. The fact of the matter is that we just don't know enough about our own history to realistically guess why the Architects chose us—because right after they did, they disappeared."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said; they vanished. Gone." Pragley scratched his chin absentmindedly. "Without warning, the Architects disappeared and we were left to our own devices. Ancient ruins and the Sentinels are all that remains of them, the only signs that they ever existed. We have no fossils, no records, no idea at all of what they might have looked like. Some people even think that the Sentinels were the Architects—they were the ones who ascended us, after all."

"Okay, you mentioned that before—something about, 'the ascensions'."

"Almost three thousand years ago," Pragley explained, "the Sentinels gifted the chosen races incredible advancements in technology. Eventually, everyone discovered that they weren't alone in the galaxy. It wasn't long before colony ships were built, and it became a race to the stars for territory."

Val frowned. Something wasn't adding up for him. "You said five Planes were built, but there were only four chosen races?"

Pragley held a hand up, lifting a single finger. "We Irvas come from the Beta Plane." He lifted another. "The Kugraw come from Gamma, the Nox from Delta, and the Cell from Epsilon."

"What about the last Plane?"

"It's believed that there may have been a fifth race, one that lived on the Alpha Plane, but if there was, they're long gone now. No scans have ever returned life signs as far as I know."

"Has no one explored it to make sure?"

Pragley's mouth became a thin line. "That's not exactly possible."

"Why?"

"It's one of the Tenets, and for good reason." He grimaced. "A few centuries ago, the Cell committed the greatest atrocity in history. They invaded the Delta Plane, kidnapping and harvesting as many Nox as they could take."

"Harvesting?"

"As I said, the Cell are gene-splicers. They took the Nox to harvest their genome and add it to their own. The Sentinels had always stopped interspecies violence before it could get out of hand, but that day ... What happened on Delta was nothing short of a slaughter. By the time the Sentinels were finally able to drive off the Cell, it was too late."

Pragley sighed heavily. "Now, with the Nox having come a little too close to extinction, the Sentinels are doubly aware of any species visiting a Plane that doesn't belong to them. Unfortunately, that also includes Alpha, so no one's ever set foot on it. Breaking a Tenet is effectively a death sentence, and no one wants to risk that."

Val nodded slowly. "Okay. And these Tenets—are they just rules?"

"Essentially, but they're rules that you'll be killed on the spot for disobeying. So they hold a bit more weight than others."

His throat became rather dry. "Then it's probably a good idea to know them, huh?"

The irva nodded. "There's the one I just told you, obviously: don't go to another race's Plane without invitation. But you'd do well to remember all of them."

Pragley locked gazes with him, his expression becoming serious. "First and foremost, a Sentinel's judgement is absolute. Don't try to argue with one, because it won't listen, and certainly don't ever try to fight one. The rest of your life will be rather short and painful."

"What about running from one?"

"If you want to die tired, feel free to try it."

Ten nodded in agreement. "The Sentinels all communicate to each other across the galaxy through a network we call the Nexus. It means that every Sentinel knows what all other Sentinels do, so running from them is nearly impossible.

Continuing from where his niece left off, Pragley looked back at Val. "Next, all are equal in Spectra. We have various governments for our own laws, trade, what have you—but none of it applies to the Sentinels. Doesn't matter if you're a farmer or royalty, none are above the Tenets. If you step out of line, nothing will stand between them and you."

"Got it."

"And lastly," the irva said quietly as he leaned in, never taking his eyes off Val, "the most important Tenet of them all; never enter Eden."

Val furrowed his brow. "So no one really knows what it is?"

"Believe me, people have tried to find out and died doing so. The energy field's impossible to breach, fries anything that touches it. I'd imagine the space around Eden looks like a graveyard now ... nothing around it but burnt cinders of ships and corpses of lost souls drifting in the void."

Pragley's eyes had become hollow, staring off into space as he was lost in thought. He sat back in his chair quietly before coming out of his daze and focusing back on Val. After a few moments, he gave a slight nod of his head towards Val's wrist.

"That's why that symbol has me on edge—it's the Mark of Eden."

"The 'Mark of Eden'?" Ten questioned, sounding a little lost.

"You're young, you wouldn't know of the Mark," her uncle explained to her. "It's not something that many are particularly fond of talking about, let alone with kids—"

"I'm not a kid!"

"Please, you're barely older than Mr. Three-Syllables over here—"

Val cleared his throat. "Could we get back to the ominous explanation, please?"

"Right," Pragley said apologetically. "That symbol is a rare sight. There's only a few places in Spectra you can expect to catch a view of that beauty, and they're all places you probably shouldn't be."

"How so?"

"I've heard that they're only in sites of sacred importance, abandoned Architect structures that the Sentinels guard long after their masters have disappeared. Some believe it's a sign of honor, a source of respect and importance amongst the Architects. Others think it's a warning, an omen of something terrible which must never be disturbed."

He eyed the sigil on Val's wrist warily. "If you asked for my personal opinion, I'd think the latter is far likelier."

Hesitantly, he reached out towards Val and gingerly grabbed the boy's arm. Pulling it towards him, he analyzed the burn up close and narrowed his eyes.

"So that leaves us with a burning question—what the hell is going on?" The irva slowly shook his head from side to side. "None of this makes any sense. First, the Cell kidnap some alien kid with amnesia, and then the Sentinels brand you with the Mark."

After a few more moments, Pragley released Val's arm with a grunt. His thoughtful countenance remained however, and he continued to stare idly away from them.

Then, for the briefest moment, Val thought he caught a spark of something in Pragley's eyes. A tiny instant of recognition, or realization—

Then it was gone, and the irva stared back at them with the same vacant look he'd worn earlier. This time, however, he had a weary smile on his face. "In any case, it's getting late. We'd better start prepping for supper, and I think we'll all have earned a rest afterwards."

Val took the hint and nodded understandingly, though he'd have been lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. "I understand. Where should I go?"

Pragley stared blankly at him. "Go?"

Val nodded, furrowing his brow. "You know, to stay. Ten mentioned a settlement nearby, but I don't know the way. Do they have a shelter there?"

"Shelter? Kid, you're standing in it!" the irva said with a loud guffaw. Val suddenly realized that Pragley's declaration hadn't been a hint to leave, it was an invitation to stay.

"No, wait—I mean, I couldn't possibly pay you back for your hospitality—"

"You don't remember who you are, you were abducted by the Cell, walked away from a crash that you had no right to survive, and you're worried about hospitality?" Pragley boomed with laughter as he placed a hand on Val's shoulder gently and grinned warmly at him. "Please, forgive my earlier outburst. We'd be more than happy to have you stay with us—I insist."

He was about to reaffirm his declination when he happened to glance towards Ten. Her eyes glinted with restrained excitement, and she gave a tentative smile as she waited for his answer.

Sighing, he returned her smile with one of his own.

"Well, I suppose one night couldn't hurt."

Fear.

Fear wasn't just an emotion, it was a language, one that was instinctively spoken by all creatures of thought. It had intricacies, nuances, and accents which could be wielded by any, but mastered by only a select few.

The Cell knew fear very well.

Originally, they had come to know of it as all others had, as a sensation best not felt at all. Fear could become a disease, a plague that gripped the hearts of your people and dug its claws into weakened minds.

But they eventually found it could be a motivator, one that forced you to adapt, to push the limits of what you thought you knew to be true until you found yourself on the other side of fear—the side that gave it rather than received it.

And so, fear had one final form—that of a weapon. One that could strike at others in the way that it had done to you, striking and striking until it had turned you into the very nightmare you had once sought to avoid: fear itself.

The Cell were familiar with all of fear's faces. After all, it had been what shaped their history. Every last Cell alive, however few of them were left, owed their lives to fear.

And he made sure to never let them forget it.

The bridge was silent save for the staccato clicking of his legs, his thin antennae twitching ever so slightly in the cool air. The others watching him did so with a mixture of awe and envy. Only the oldest and purest Cell still retained their true legs; horrific mutations and a loss of varying limbs had become too common amongst newer generations of the gene-splicing race, forcing many of them to resort to prosthetics.

He stopped suddenly, allowing his presence to permeate the air and letting the others taste his scent. An uneasy murmur began to rise from his audience, and he gurgled in dark rage.

"Where is my prize?"

At his question, the noise ceased and they all refused to speak, not daring to draw attention to themselves. Fear waited patiently for a few moments longer before bellowing loudly, opening his maw wide and displaying ancient fangs which had claimed many a life.

"Where is the Echo?!"

A single Cell stepped forward, much smaller in size and subdued in its behavior. "It managed to escape. To where, we do not know."

"How?"

"The false-mind we encountered," the other Cell explained, "it assisted the Echo. How, we do not know—"

"Tell me," he growled deeply, stepping closer to the other and extending the sharpened end of his pedipalp towards them, "what do you know?"

"Before the ship jumped, a powerful burst of energy was detected from the communications array," the other quickly said, trying to appease the larger creature. "We believe the false-mind jettisoned itself from the ship's systems to another's as a data-package."

"And you were able to trace its path?"

They clicked their fangs repeatedly in agreement. "Yes, yes! The transmission was received by the Mercantile. In its damaged state, the false-mind is likely stranded."

Fear thought about that scenario, and gave a rumble of contentment. "Then perhaps we may yet see Eden's skies."

The smaller Cell warbled in agreement before Fear drove the edge of his pincer into their meaty face, cleaving through their soft flesh. There was a muffled shriek of pain before he widened his pincer, splitting apart their head like a rotten fruit. The lifeless body fell to the deck with a sickening squish of its skin smacking against the blood that oozed from its new orifice, and he turned to the others that watched the disturbing spectacle in silence.

"Hunt down the false-mind. If we find it, we find the Echo." He gestured towards the other Cell's corpse on the floor, its dark-green blood staining the metal. "I need not remind you that failure will not be tolerated."

The Cell knew Fear very well. Their lives belonged to him.

And he would never let them forget it.