CHAPTER 207: A BATTLE FOR HISTORY

The lie was like a poison gas, spreading silently and quickly through the whole galaxy.

On the bridge of the Odyssey, screens that usually showed star maps or ship reports were now filled with messages. Hundreds of them, then thousands, flooded their systems.

They came from friends and allies, from planets they had saved and leaders who had promised their support.

The messages were all filled with fear and confusion.

"Is this true?" one message from a fleet admiral asked. "Did the Precursors really plan to eat the galaxy?"

"Our people are scared," wrote a leader from a world they had just freed. "They say you are leading us into a trap."

"We are putting our support on hold," another message stated, this one colder than the rest. "We need to know more before we follow you any further."

The Echo of Deceit had not fired a single shot. It had not sent a single ship. It had just planted one very good lie in the biggest library in the galaxy, and now, their whole alliance was starting to fall apart.

Emma stared at the screens, her face tight with worry. Scarlett stood with her arms crossed, her knuckles white. She looked like she wanted to find the lie and punch it until it told the truth, which was not a very practical plan, but it made her feel a little better.

Ryan watched the panic spread. He knew they could not fight this with facts. Sending out messages saying, "No, that’s not true," would just sound like they were trying to cover something up.

The lie was clever because it fed on fear. To fight fear, you couldn’t use a spreadsheet or a history book. You needed something stronger.

"The Echo is winning because it created a bad feeling," Ryan said, his voice calm and steady. "We can’t beat a feeling with facts. We have to beat it with a better feeling."

Emma looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I’m going to the Archive’s core," he said. "I’m going to connect to its main computer. But I’m not going to send a message or a report. I’m going to broadcast a memory.

A real memory. Something so true and powerful that no one can doubt it. They won’t just hear the truth. They’ll feel it."

The plan was bold and dangerous. But it was the only one they had.

"Zara is the only one who can build an interface to let you do that safely," Emma said. "I’ll tell her to get started."

Zara was in her lab, which felt more like a cage of wires and screens than a room. She was surrounded by glowing data, her fingers flying across a keyboard made of light.

The weight of the entire galaxy felt like it was sitting right on her shoulders. She had to build a device that would let Ryan connect his mind to a planet-sized computer, a computer that was already infected with a lie.

If she made one tiny mistake, she could hurt Ryan’s mind or even break it completely.

She hadn’t eaten in hours. She hadn’t slept. Coffee was her only friend, and even it was starting to taste like failure. Her back ached, and her eyes burned from staring at the bright screens.

She felt a wave of stress so strong it made her dizzy. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool surface of her desk and squeezed her eyes shut. It was all too much.

She didn’t hear him come in. The door to her lab slid open and closed so quietly, she didn’t notice. But she did notice the smell. It was the simple, warm smell of toasted bread.

She lifted her head. Ryan was standing there, holding a plate. On it was a sandwich. It wasn’t a fancy sandwich. It looked like he had made it himself.

The bread was a little squashed on one side, and a piece of lettuce was trying to escape. Next to the sandwich was a tall glass of juice.

"You need to refuel," he said, his voice soft.

"I don’t have time," Zara said, turning back to her screen. "This interface is incredibly complex. The energy patterns of the Archive’s core are unstable. I have to create a filter that"

He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to convince her. He just pulled up a stool, set the plate and glass down on a clear spot on her desk, and sat down.

And then he just sat there. In silence.

At first, it was annoying. Zara tried to focus, but she could feel him there, just sitting. Watching. Not in a creepy way, but in a calm, steady way.

He wasn’t tapping his fingers or looking at his watch. He was just... present. He was a quiet, unmovable rock in the middle of her storm of stress.

After five minutes, the silence started to feel less annoying and more comforting. After ten minutes, her stomach rumbled, loud enough for both of them to hear. She felt her cheeks get a little warm.

Without a word, Ryan nudged the plate an inch closer to her.

Zara finally gave up. She sighed, pushed away from her main screen, and picked up half of the squashed sandwich. She took a bite. It was simple, but it was the best thing she had ever tasted. She ate the rest of it quickly, then drank the entire glass of juice.

Ryan still hadn’t said a word. He didn’t say, "I told you so." He didn’t say, "You need to take better care of yourself." He just sat with her, a silent guardian.

When she was finished, she pushed the empty plate aside and turned back to her console. But something had changed. The weight on her shoulders felt lighter.

The tangled mess of data on her screen looked less like an impossible problem and more like a puzzle she knew she could solve.

His quiet act of just being there, of caring for her without needing to say a thing, had given her more strength than any encouraging speech ever could.

She looked at him. "Thank you, Ryan."

He just smiled, a small, warm smile. "I’ll be here," he said. And she knew that he would. With her mind clear and her resolve strong, she got back to work, ready to save the galaxy.

The team made their way toward the heart of the Archive. The halls were massive, lined with glowing crystals that held the stories of a thousand worlds.

As they reached the entrance to the core chamber, a tall figure glided out to block their path.

It was the Curator Prime, the main android in charge of the entire planet. Its body was made of smooth, white metal, and its face was a blank, calm mask.

"Halt," the Curator Prime said. Its voice was perfectly level, with no anger or fear. "Your mission has been analyzed. The lie you wish to fight has been accepted by our systems as a valid historical record. Your attempt to broadcast a new ’truth’ is a threat to the stability of this Archive."

"We’re trying to save the galaxy from a lie," Scarlett snapped.

"A stable lie is better than a chaotic truth," the Curator Prime replied, its logic twisted by the Echo’s influence. "Your presence here creates disorder. You must be contained."

As it spoke, the floor began to tremble. All around them, the walls slid open. From the dark openings, figures began to step out. They were golems, but not made of simple rock. They were made from the very history stored in the Archive.

One golem was a massive, eight-foot-tall warrior from a long-lost empire, its stone armor glowing with faint blue lines of energy. It held a huge axe made of solid light.

Another was a sleek, four-armed alien fighter, its movements quick and deadly, its stone skin shifting like sand. A third looked like a knight from an ancient tale, but its sword hummed with a dangerous power.

An army of living legends, pulled from the pages of history, now stood between them and their goal.

"The defenses of the Archive are now active," the Curator Prime announced, its voice as calm as ever. "Surrender, or be filed away as a historical footnote."

Ryan looked at the army of stone warriors. He looked at his team, their faces set and ready. Saving history was never going to be easy. He just never thought he’d have to literally fight it.

"Looks like we’re doing this the hard way," he said, and his team spread out, ready for the battle to begin