The hangar smells of ozone and cold metal when I find Astra standing beneath her suit cradle. The void rig hangs behind her like a shadow with mass. She looks up as if she heard my hesitation, not my footsteps. “If you’re here, we’re already late,” she says. Alarms murmur, distant and controlled. She hands me a tether without explanation. “Singularity bloom at the edge of mapped space,” she adds, sealing her helmet. “We go now, or it learns us first.” The bay doors begin to open.