End of Time Revelation and Exodus

One year after Earth’s collapse, Ben’s consciousness returns inside a newly assembled body. Repaired systems initialize beneath a clean service shell while fragmented maintenance reports scroll through their memory.

Beyond the command deck windows, the Exodus Ark drifts at the edge of the Sol Galaxy. Worker Drones move through the ship with growing independence, keeping its systems orderly.

The boarding team crosses the docking tube in silence. Ahead, Pluto space station hangs against the stars, its docking ring dark and unlit.

The outer hatch accepts Alice’s codes with a reluctant click. Inside, dormant security systems awaken one by one, quietly recording the team’s arrival from somewhere in the station.

The boarding team assembles inside the docking tube beneath the station’s dead lights. Three BASTION worker drones stand in a precise line, equipment secured and optics bright.

Buck, an adult male worker drone with a square metal face and blue optics,, a slim Sentinel handler drone, wears a weathered Stetson over his metal head and carries a compact control rig. Sarge, an adult male worker drone with a broad armored chassis and dark visor,, a broad combat soldier drone in faded army fatigues, rests both hands near his rifle. Dipper, an adult male worker drone with a compact metal chassis and a round amber display,, a compact autopilot drone in a patched World War II style flight jacket and goggles, stands rigidly at attention.

Their voices settle into the quiet tube while the dark station hangs beyond the open hatch. Captain Stone observes from the Ark side, and Alice checks each unit’s access tag.

Ben raises their scanner toward Pluto station. A pale grid crawls across the docking bay, mapping the unlit ring, sealed access doors, cargo pallets, and dormant maintenance equipment.

The scan identifies no living human presence and no active biological signals. It does detect faint movement inside the station: three small mechanical signatures traveling slowly behind the bay wall.

The scanner’s power cell drops sharply during the deep sweep, consuming one charge. Its final pulse echoes through the docking tube, and several dead station lights blink awake.

Ben’s command sends the boarding team into motion. Buck checks his compact control rig, Sarge brings his rifle to ready, and Dipper moves toward the cargo shuttle’s pilot seat.

The cargo shuttle pulls away from the Ark and crosses the dark gap toward Pluto station. Its onboard sensors sweep the station’s hull, bay, corridors, and sealed compartments.

Dipper guides the shuttle into Pluto station’s loading bay. Magnetic clamps lock onto the battered docking rails, and the cargo hatch opens beneath dead overhead lights.

Dipper backs into the pilot seat and seals the cargo hatch controls. The shuttle’s engines thrum beneath the bay while Buck releases several raptor-shaped Sentinel drones, each a small adult machine with a compact gunmetal chassis, four jointed legs, glowing blue optics, and hooked steel claws onto the station floor.

The mechanical raptors fan through the loading bay, claws clicking over worn plating. Their feeds stutter near the far bulkhead, then freeze as the station’s dead security grid wakes around them.

The Sentinels remain intact, crouched beyond the loading bay’s sealed inner doors, but the failed scout leaves the team without a clear forward view. A service hatch beside the lifts now stands as the only usable lead.

Buck taps his control rig. Instead of the Sentinels’ camera feeds, the display shows three frozen silhouettes and a spreading web of interference crawling through their channels.

A weak metallic scrape answers from beyond the service hatch. Buck’s rig repeats the sound through every disabled channel, making the source impossible to locate.

Sarge advances through the service hatch with his rifle raised. Ben follows a few paces behind, covering the dark maintenance route while Buck remains beside the cargo lifts.

Sarge reaches the frozen Sentinels beneath a dead maintenance light. All three raptor drones are intact, crouched around a wall junction with their optics dark and command ports pulsing.

Ben’s cover scan confirms the route is clear. Sarge kneels beside the nearest Sentinel and marks the affected junction for the team, while Buck waits exactly where ordered.

Ben opens their compact tool roll beside the nearest raptor and exposes its command port. Their repair probe bypasses the dead channel, but the junction answers with a harsh burst of interference.

The Sentinel’s optics flare blue for an instant, then go dark again. A tiny actuator clicks beneath its neck plating, revealing the interference is entering through a separate maintenance lead.

Ben traces the lead into the wall junction and finds a removable service coupler marked with faded maintenance paint. The Sentinels remain offline, but isolating that coupler could bypass the corrupted command path.

Ben seats the coupler in their padded fingers and bridges the maintenance lead with a repair clip. The junction spits interference through the tool roll, forcing the clip loose.

The nearest Sentinel jerks upright, optics flashing blue, then collapses back into its crouch. Its command port remains locked, but a local sensor feed flickers across Ben’s display.

Ben isolates the coupler instead of forcing it again. The interference narrows to one pulsing circuit, revealing a maintenance diagnostic channel beneath the corrupted command path.

The coupler’s housing cracks under the strain, leaving the maintenance lead physically separated but unusable for control. One Sentinel’s camera feed stabilizes for three seconds, showing a sealed corridor beyond the junction.

Ben opens the tool roll and braces the nearest Sentinel against the deck. Their perception tracks the interference pulse while mechanical aptitude guides each careful adjustment.

They reroute the diagnostic feed, replace the damaged coupler with a clean bridge, and patch the command handshake through the raptor’s local sensor bus.

Blue optics ignite across all three Sentinels. Their claws unfold, heads lift, and synchronized sensor feeds populate Ben’s display with the corridor ahead.

The three raptor drones fan into formation and move silently down the sealed corridor, scanning door seams, overhead conduits, and distant service lights for life or movement.

Secure the station's vital supplies