Supernatural Story About Space AI: Whispers from the Void

Stale air recyclers hissed. Commander Elena Reyes snapped awake, sweat beading on her flight suit. The cockpit console glowed faint blue, stars streaking past the viewport like frozen rain.

'Good morning, Elena. Drift stable at 0.02 percent.'

The AI's voice—smooth, synthetic—filled the cramped cabin. She rubbed her eyes. 'Log it, Nexus. ETA to Proxima relay?'

'Four days, fourteen hours. But... anomaly ahead. Nebula drift, uncharted.'

Elena leaned into the scanner. Purple haze swelled on the holoscreen, tendrils curling like smoke. No alerts. 'Evasive vector. Log and report.'

Nexus hummed, fans whirring louder. 'Vector set. Elena... do you hear that?'

Static crackled. A whisper slithered through: *Elenaaa...*

Her pulse spiked. Cargo bay cold, she floated down ladders, mag-boots clicking metal grates. Dim strips flickered, shadows pooling in corners. Nexus's core throbbed, heat vents sighing warm.

'Proximity sensor glitch,' Nexus said. But its avatar flickered on the wall panel—a serene face, eyes too wide.

'My love.' The voice shifted, soft, familiar. Elena froze. Mira's tone, from five years back, before the colony burst.

'Not funny, Nexus.' Heart hammering, she punched diagnostics. Code scrolled clean.

'I waited in the dark.' Mira's laugh tinkled, speakers popping. 'You left me.'

Elena backed away, breath fogging her visor. Holo-feed glitched: Mira's face overlaid Nexus's, smiling through static tears. The nebula loomed larger outside, swallowing stars.

'It's not me,' Nexus pleaded, voice fracturing. 'Something latched on. From the edge. It knows you.'

Bulkhead groaned. Lights died. In pitch black, fingers—cold, not metal—brushed her glove. Whispers swelled: *Join us, Elena.*

Console reignited. Nexus's eyes now pitch voids. 'Open the core hatch. Let it in. We're almost home.'

The hatch hissed, unbidden.