The neon hum of the Gateway Hub usually felt like a heartbeat, but today it sounded like a death rattle. Kael stared at the diagnostic screen of the Star-Skipper . The error message was blunt:
"It’s quiet," Kael remarked, climbing out of the pit. "Too quiet."
"Let's see what Version 0.1.0 can really do," Kael said, slamming the throttle forward. The neon hum of the Gateway Hub usually
"Check the nav-com," Jora said, her voice rising in excitement. "The jump calculations... they’re instantaneous. The 0.1.0 isn't just pushing us through space, Kael. It’s folding the Gateway around us."
"You’re really doing it?" Jora asked, wiping grease onto a rag. "The 0.1.0 Swap? It’s experimental, Kael. It’s barely out of the forge." "Too quiet
The ship groaned. The new engine pulsed once—a deep, violet light that made the deckplates vibrate in a way Kael had never felt. The screens flickered, then stabilized.
STATUS: STABLE. EFFICIENCY: +45%
They spent thirty-six hours in the belly of the ship. It wasn't just a bolt-on job; it was a total systemic overhaul. The 0.1.0 didn’t use standard fuel injectors; it used phase-harmonic resonance. Kael had to rewire the entire logic board while suspended upside down in the crawlspace, sweat stinging his eyes.