Jack Vane stood at the helm, his cybernetic right arm flexing instinctively over the console. The ember-scar beneath his suit pulsed faintly with anticipation. "All right, crew," he said, voice gruff but steady, "Oros is crawling with Synod drones and worse. Nyx, take us in close—silent running. Buttons, mask our signature."
Mako leads the way, massive frame dwarfing the others, his cybernetic arms gleaming beneath the dim light. He glances back, a crooked grin beneath his rugged mustache. "If the Synod’s here, they’ll hear me coming. So let’s be quick, yeah?" Jack Vane nods, motioning for Syla to scout ahead. The alien’s silhouette flickers, phasing through a sealed doorway.
Doctor Aris Thorne’s hands tremble as he reads the ancient script swirling around the artifact. Jack Vane circles the Shard, his green eyes reflecting its impossible colors. "This is it. The prophecy starts here," he murmured. Mako stands guard, scanning for signs of the Collector or Synod squads.
The team fans out, Kaelen’s gravity blades sparking to life beside the dais. The Collector’s voice is a low growl, "You’re outmatched, Vane. Hand over the Shard and maybe I’ll let you crawl away." Jack Vane squares his shoulders, defiance burning in his scarred chest.
Jack Vane[/@ch_1] reaches for the God-Shard. Light bursts from the crystal, enveloping him in a storm of memory and sensation—visions of lost worlds, forgotten gods, and the heat death creeping in the dark. His ember-scar blazes, and for a moment time itself seems to fracture.]
Mako shouts, "Jack! Let go! It’s killing you!" But Jack Vane holds on, siphoning the Shard’s power. The Synod soldiers freeze mid-stride, caught in a bubble of suspended time. The Collector’s smirk falters as the Gambit crew seizes the advantage.
Jack Vane staggers, the glow fading from his scar, eyes haunted by new knowledge and old wounds. Mako throws him over one shoulder, barreling through debris. As the airlock seals, Buttons’ voice crackles over comms, "We’ve got company—strap in or kiss your memories goodbye!" The Gambit rockets away, leaving Oros in ruins behind them.
Jack Vane sits alone in the med-bay, staring at his reflection—older, changed. "We won today," he whispers, voice raw, "but at what cost?" The crew gathers in silence, shadows on their faces, as the prophecy’s first seal shatters in the dark.
