Something stirred beneath the skin of Vorlaxion this morning – quiet, cautious, almost shy. A low-frequency hum drifted through the citadel at dawn, more sensation than sound. Some described it as a flutter along the spine, others as a sudden shift in air pressure, like the world holding its breath. No alarms sounded, yet the whole city seemed to pause, listening for the next note. It didn’t take long for the first sign of trouble to surface. A guard assigned to routine watch near the black TARDIS has gone missing. Their wrist communicator was found at the base of the machine – still active, still transmitting. The signal pulsed in a steady rhythm, uncanny in its similarity to the earlier tremor. No trace of the guard, no signs of struggle… only the soft beacon thrum echoing from the device, like a heartbeat waiting for its owner.
And then the second pulse struck. Bigger. Louder. Unmistakably intentional. The black TARDIS responded with a surge of golden light that rippled through the repair bays and out into the depths of the citadel. This time the energy came patterned – triads of pulses arranged with deliberate precision. A key. A code. A countdown. Those close enough heard static brush against their minds, almost forming words before dissolving back into whispers of light. In the midst of that gold-lit storm, Roxy collapsed near the TARDIS… and a voice not her own spilled through her lips: “TEMPORAL CONTAINMENT INITIATED.”
The phrase lingered in the air long after the pulse faded. Technicians moved quickly, initiating a quarantine around the enigmatic TARDIS. After emerging back onto the surface, those present found the plaza altered—glowing sigils etched into the floorstones themselves, warm with energy and carrying meaning none have yet deciphered.
Something has happened. Something is happening.
A message, a warning, a summons – its purpose remains unknown. But Vorlaxion now stands beneath the weight of a mystery that grows deeper by the hour. Across the city, residents have begun gathering with the Cardinals, pooling knowledge and instinct alike to study the glowing sigils etched into the plaza floor. Search teams are fanning out to locate the missing guard, combing through corridors and timelines for any sign of what might have taken them. Engineers, scholars, and citizens are sharing notes, sightings, and theories as the pieces of this strange puzzle slowly align. Whatever the next pulse brings, Vorlaxion faces it together – united in curiosity, caution, and the unshaken resolve to uncover the truth.