The Source

“Hello, Marco,” whatever was inhabiting Ayaka said in its distant, echoing voice.

Fleet Admiral Bianchi simply stared back, irritation written across his face. “And who, or what, are you?” he said in an overly calm tone.

“I am....” the being wearing Ayaka tilted her head as if listening to a distant sound. “He wakes.” She floated, still cross-legged in the air, to Joon-ho’s side.

Joon-ho’s eyes fluttered, then snapped open and he sat up with a gasp. He looked around for a moment in wide-eyed panic, then, upon realizing where he was, visibly calmed himself. “So I’m not dead yet, am I?”

“No, child. You’re still very much alive,” Ayaka’s passenger said, stroking Joon-ho’s hair. “And I am... glad, that you are.”

Joon-ho looked at Ayaka for the first time since waking up—really looked—and out of all expectations, merely said, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I. Very funny, Proxima. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

{Had what in me, Warrant Officer Lee?} the AI interjected.