The "outskirts" of the "Eternal Corridor"-if this viscous, chaotic space where all sense of direction vanished could be called "outskirts."
The Dawnbringer resembled an enormous metal coffin. Amid the "mist" of muted colors and chaotic energy, its few surviving attitude-control thrusters gave feeble hisses, shifting it with agonizing slowness to almost no effect. The scars left by the earlier battle and forced entry stood out clearly on its hull. Armor plates had buckled or fallen away in several places, exposing the scorched, twisted framework and conduits that occasionally spat electrical sparks beneath them. The hastily added layer of stardust alloy now looked more like a ragged, heavily patched burial shroud.
On the bridge, the lights had been dimmed to their lowest setting to conserve power. Only a few functioning console screens cast a faint blue glow, illuminating faces that were exhausted and tense, yet had not given up. The air carried a mixture of scorched metal, the sickly sweetness of coolant, and faint traces of blood and medicine.
"Propulsion efficiency is below 0.3% of our estimate." Elder Mochen's voice was hoarse. He stared at the nearly motionless displacement readings on the screen, helplessness filling his bloodshot eyes. "The spatial 'viscosity' and energy inertia here are too high. Conventional propulsion barely works. And the mist absorbs and disrupts energy so strongly that our thrusters are burning over a hundred times their normal fuel consumption, but the thrust they produce..."
He did not finish, but his meaning was clear. At this rate, they might exhaust their last reserves of energy without traveling very far at all. Moreover, without the Rift Stabilizer, moving blindly through this region of chaotic laws was itself a gamble with their lives.
"Has the signal detected by the Eye of Prophecy changed?" Lin Ye leaned against a seat