The void was not meant to collapse like this.
At the farthest edge of the newly expanded Constellation Network, space itself seemed to twist in defiance of its own laws. A violent quantum storm churned through the darkness, spiraling in chaotic layers of light and gravity. Jagged fissures tore across the surrounding vacuum, fragments of warped space-time splintering away like shattered glass drifting through a cosmic ocean.
The phenomenon did not behave like a natural storm.
It pulsed.
Breathing.
Alive.
Tiny arcs of unstable energy snapped between collapsing particles, each spark carrying the faint echo of something forming deep within the storm's core. At the center of it all, a singularity flickered erratically—its gravity fluctuating in unpredictable waves, its signature unlike anything the Constellation had ever recorded.
Across thousands of star systems, the Constellation Network trembled in response.
And at the heart of the network, the triad felt it immediately.
