There.
Movement.
Far beyond sight. Far beyond sound.
But he felt it.
Zerg.
A lot of them.
Moving.
Jake straightened just a little, his expression tightening.
"…They're shifting."
The words came out quiet, but certain.
Raynor frowned, turning slightly toward him. "What?"
Jake blinked once, like he was snapping back into himself. "…Zerg," he said. "They're moving. East of the hive. Fast."
For a moment, no one said anything.
Then one of the marines scoffed under his breath. "We're miles up. You can't—"
"I can," Jake cut in.
There was no edge to it. No aggression.
Just certainty.
Raynor studied him for a second longer, then turned slightly toward the cockpit. "Pilot."
"Yeah?"
"Mark east of the hive. Wide scan."
There was a short pause. "…You serious?"
"Do it."
Jake didn't wait for the confirmation.
His focus drifted again, deeper this time. The sensation came easier now, more natural, like something that had always been there but just out of reach. The swarm wasn't just noise anymore—it had shape. Direction. Structure.
He could follow it.
Track it.
Understand it.
His breathing slowed, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he leaned into it.
Then—
A flicker.
A thought.
Not his.
Follow.
Jake's expression hardened instantly. "…No."
The word slipped out under his breath.
Raynor caught it. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You talking to me?"
Jake didn't answer right away.
He was still there—still feeling it. The movement, the direction… the pull—
Gone.
Just like that.
Jake blinked hard, his vision stuttering for a split second before stabilizing again. There was no pain this time. No spike of pressure behind his eyes.
Just clarity.
Different from before.
Better.
"…They changed direction," he said quietly.
Raynor didn't respond immediately. He was still watching him.
Still thinking.
The pilot's voice broke through over the comms.
"…Uh. Commander?"
Raynor didn't take his eyes off Jake. "Yeah."
"We're picking up movement. Large cluster. East side. Just like he said."
Silence settled over the troop bay.
The marines shifted again—but this time, it wasn't disbelief.
It was unease.
Raynor exhaled slowly. "…Alright. Stay on course. We're not going back in."
A few quiet breaths of relief followed that.
Jake leaned back slightly, resting against the cold metal behind him. His hand lifted unconsciously, fingers pressing lightly against his temple.
No bleeding.
No strain.
Just awareness.
His gaze drifted across the bay—and stopped.
One of the marines.
Wounded.
Bandaged shoulder. Breathing uneven.
Jake's eyes lingered for just a moment too long.
Something flickered again.
Not a voice.
A feeling.
Weak.
Exposed.
Controllable.
Jake's hand twitched.
"…No."
This time louder. Sharper.
The marine flinched. "What?"
Jake looked away immediately. "Nothing."
Raynor stepped closer now, slow and deliberate, stopping just within arm's reach. "…You wanna start explaining?" he asked quietly.
Jake let out a slow breath, then shook his head. "Not yet."
Raynor didn't like that answer. It showed.
But he didn't push.
Not here.
Not now.
Jake's gaze shifted toward the small viewport along the side of the ship. The hive was barely visible now—a dark, distant mass against the landscape, fading as they gained altitude.
Far away.
But not gone.
He could still feel it.
Faint.
Like something just out of reach.
Watching.
Waiting.
Jake's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…I'm not going back," he muttered under his breath.
He didn't notice the way his hand had tightened slightly.
Or how, for just a moment—
His reaction had come faster than his thoughts.
Across from him, Raynor watched in silence.
And for the first time since they had pulled Jake out of that hive—
He wasn't sure what they had brought back with them.