The Zenith Exchange was a bad memory, a cold knot of betrayal and near-death experiences in Nathan’s gut. He’d licked his wounds, patched up the *Stardust Drifter* (his trusty, battered salvage ship), and spent the last few weeks running low-risk, high-volume trades. Sticking to known routes, dealing with predictable clients. Trying to forget the glint in Vrook’s eye as he’d sprung the trap, the suffocating press of Syndicate enforcers.

But burying himself in routine was just delaying the inevitable. The Whispering Vault hummed with potential, a siren song of untold riches and forgotten technologies. And the more he learned about it, the more he felt drawn back to its source, back to the origin point of the Great Schism itself: Earth.

Old Earth. Shattered Earth. A name that tasted of dust and regret.

He’d been putting it off, making excuses. Too dangerous. Too little to gain. No one went to Earth anymore unless they were desperate, mad, or both. The radiation levels were unpredictable, the gravitational anomalies played havoc with navigation, and the remnants of forgotten defenses still occasionally spat out lethal bursts of energy.

But the dreams were getting more frequent. Fragmented images of green fields, blue skies, the laughter of children. Images that didn't belong to the grimy asteroid belt he called home, to the sterile corridors of space stations, to the chaotic marketplaces of the Shattered Star Sea. They were memories, he suspected, buried deep within his genetic code, echoes of a past he’d never known but desperately wanted to understand.

And then there was his family. He knew virtually nothing about them. Just a faded datapad he'd found tucked away in the *Drifter*’s original manifest, containing a list of names and a single, grainy image of a smiling couple holding a baby. His parents? He’d always assumed so, but the image felt distant, almost alien. The datapad also contained a single address, an address in what was once Colorado, North America.

“Alright, *Drifter*,” Nathan muttered, running a diagnostic scan on the ship’s navigation system. “Time to face the music. Time to see what’s left of the old girl.”

The journey itself was a white-knuckle affair. The route to Earth was littered with debris fields, remnants of orbital defense platforms, and the husks of ancient warships. The *Drifter*, nimble as she was, had to weave through a treacherous obstacle course, dodging rogue drones and the occasional unsettlingly silent, drifting escape pod.

He rerouted shields more than once and the constant stress on the engines had them groaning but he made it.

As he approached Earth, the view through the viewport was both awe-inspiring and profoundly depressing. The planet was a jigsaw puzzle of continents, torn apart and scattered across the void. Great rents in the crust revealed the molten heart of the world. Swirling radiation storms painted the sky in unsettling hues of green and violet.

“Damn,” Nathan breathed, adjusting the ship's trajectory. "Just as messed up as the rumors say."

He initiated the descent sequence, his hands tight on the controls. The atmospheric turbulence was brutal, buffeting the *Drifter* like a leaf in a hurricane. Emergency alarms blared as the ship shuddered violently. He fought to maintain control, his knuckles white.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke through the atmospheric barrier. The sight that greeted him was even more desolate than he had imagined. The landscape was a wasteland of shattered buildings, rusted vehicles, and wind-swept dust. The air was thick with a metallic tang, a constant reminder of the planet’s ruined state.

He set the *Drifter* down in what appeared to have once been a small airfield, now choked with weeds and debris. The landing was rough, but the ship held. He powered down the engines and took a deep breath, the recycled air in the ship feeling oddly stale and comforting compared to the potentially toxic atmosphere outside.

He donned a radiation suit, checked his pulse rifle, and activated his environmental scanner. The readings weren’t great, but manageable. "Alright, let's see what secrets you're hiding, old girl" Nathan said to himself and stepped outside onto Shattered Earth.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a tomb, a monument to a lost civilization.

He consulted his datapad. The address he was searching for was in what was once the Rocky Mountains. He estimated the distance to be about a hundred kilometers. Too far to walk, especially with the unpredictable terrain and potential hazards.

He reactivated the *Drifter* and carefully navigated the ruined landscape, following a pre-programmed route based on outdated maps. The roads were long gone, replaced by canyons and sinkholes. He had to detour frequently, his progress slow and arduous.

Hours later, he arrived at the approximate location of the address. He cut the engines and climbed out of the *Drifter*, his heart pounding in his chest.

The landscape was a jumbled mess of rubble and twisted metal. He could see faint outlines of what might have once been houses, streets, a small town. He checked his scanner. There were no signs of life. Only the echoes of the past.

He activated the datapad again, zoomed in on the image of his possible parents, and began to search, methodically sifting through the debris. He found fragments of clothing, rusted tools, broken toys. But nothing that resonated, nothing that felt familiar.

Just as despair began to set in, he noticed something glinting in the sunlight. He brushed away the dust and revealed a partially buried concrete structure. It looked like an entrance, sealed off by a heavy, rusted door.

He ran his scanner over the door. It was reinforced, but not impenetrable. He pulled out his plasma torch and began to cut through the metal, the acrid smell of burning steel filling the air.

After several minutes, the door creaked open, revealing a dark, narrow passage. He switched on his helmet light and cautiously entered.

The air inside was stale and musty, but breathable. He followed the passage deeper into the earth, the walls lined with cracked concrete and exposed wiring. The passage opened into a larger chamber, a small bunker of some kind.

The bunker was in disarray, but surprisingly intact. Shelves lined the walls, filled with dusty books, decaying food supplies, and outdated electronic equipment. In the center of the room, there was a large metal desk, covered in papers and handwritten notes.

He approached the desk, his heart pounding in his chest. He carefully brushed away the dust and began to examine the papers. They were research notes, filled with complex equations and diagrams. He couldn't understand most of it, but one phrase caught his eye: "Project Phoenix."

He continued to sift through the papers, his excitement growing. He found documents detailing a government-funded research project focused on developing advanced technologies for survival in the event of a global catastrophe.

Then, he found it. A file marked "Family History." He opened it with trembling hands.

Inside, he found a photograph. The same photograph from the datapad, but larger and clearer. His parents, smiling and vibrant, holding him as a baby.

Below the photograph, there was a handwritten note: "To our son, Nathan. If you're reading this, then we're gone. The world as we knew it is gone. But hope remains. We have dedicated our lives to Project Phoenix, to preserving the knowledge and technology necessary to rebuild civilization. The secrets of the Great Schism are here, Nathan. Use them wisely."

He felt tears welling up in his eyes. He had found them. He had found a connection to his past. He had found a purpose.

He spent the next several hours exploring the bunker, meticulously documenting everything he found. He discovered detailed schematics for advanced energy weapons, blueprints for self-sustaining habitats, and a vast library of digital information.

And then, in a hidden compartment behind the desk, he found it. A small, metallic cube. He picked it up, his fingers tracing its smooth surface.

He activated the cube. A holographic projection sprang to life, displaying a map. Not a map of Earth, but a map of the Shattered Star Sea. And marked on the map, in a bright, pulsating light, was a location.

A location near a cluster of asteroids.

A location where a Cosmic Seed might be found.