Knights of the Viral Moon CH 1: Neon Glitch

Knights of the Viral Moon Chapter 1: The Upload SYSTEM BOOT: The screen surged and I was already moving. Boots slammed against the deck. A chair clipped my leg and skidded away. Someone shouted—maybe my name maybe a warning—but it drowned under alarms and the low grinding hum crawling out of the speakers. I grabbed the rail vaulted it palms burning as I hit the metal in front of the screen. The console erupted in a spray of sparks. A junior officer to my left hit the deck hands over their head as the main alarm tone shifted from a rhythmic pulse to a high-pitched jagged scream. I lost the room for a heartbeat—just a blur of smoke and red light—before I forced my eyes back to the glass. Dad— The image wavered too bright too close. Pixels crawled across his face like frost on glass. Static snapped and hissed cutting the feed into jagged strips. Then it fractured. My father was there. Red emergency light strobed across him breaking him into moments—shoulder hands eyes. He was bent over a control panel breath fogging in the air fingers stiff and shaking as he worked the manual overrides. The cold had settled into everything turning the room hard and sharp. I slammed my hand against the screen. Dad! Look at me! The picture lurched. The camera swung. For a heartbeat his head lifted. His eyes came up—straight to the lens. Straight to me. My chest seized. I’m here I said the words tripping over each other. I’m here. I love you. I’m going to— My HUD ghosted—two dads one glitch. My own voice came back in my ears a half-beat late like someone else was wearing it. I reached for the tuning knob but the audio desynced my father’s mouth moving while the sound lagged behind trapped in the delay. His mouth moved. The speakers spat static. Ecocide’s face tore across the feed—huge laughing distorted—and the image buckled under it. The signal screamed folded in on itself and vanished. Dad—! Snow flooded the wall. I stood there with my hand still pressed to the screen breath tearing in and out of me pulse hammering so hard my fingers shook. The taste of metal coated my tongue. Override! Now! I roared. Behind me three crew members lunged for the manual lever. The heavy door at the end of the bridge groaned opening just a sliver—long enough to see the vacuum-frost on the other side—before the emergency bulkhead slammed shut with the force of a falling moon. The lever snapped. One technician fell back clutching a broken wrist. The door was dead. Permanent. Behind me the bridge systems reset. Corridors snapped back into place. The simulation resumed—perfect indifferent waiting. My father was there. That was enough. Open it I shouted spinning back toward the consoles. Open the door—now! The word now came out wrong—too loud too sharp. My fist slammed into the rail before I realized I’d moved. Pain flared and vanished under the heat flooding my chest hot and reckless the part of me that wanted to break anything that refused to move. Ecocide’s laugh flickered across the speakers. Something in me snapped toward it. I’ll kill you I said. Then— No—son—don’t— The sound was thin dragged through static barely holding together. But it landed. The anger stalled mid-strike collapsing inward. My raised hand froze trembling now—not from rage but from stopping. The feed stayed dead. The wall stayed blank. It’ll kill us the voice came again faint and tearing apart. Don’t— No I whispered the word meant only for him. I won’t. Silence followed. Heavy. Unforgiving. Behind me systems finished rebooting. The simulation waited. The echo of his voice stayed with me—fractured undeniable—long enough to breathe. It all started just like before—a flick and ping ping ping ricochets between the morning sun and the one that sets. And for a fraction of a femtosecond static once tuned to doubts and anxiety’s FOMO moments—made into mine—gave way. Seizing back gains PsyOps infiltrated whispers: forget about them. Look over there stay preoccupied I’ve got your best interests aligned with mine. Quick—apply more aggression drops. Divide and conquer! PsyOps whispered manipulatively. A stray feed flickered onto my secondary HUD. A parent’s face lined with terror was shoving two children into a reinforced floor-shelter. They looked toward the camera for a split second—hope or plea I couldn’t tell—before the feed cut to black. I hesitated for a single breath the weight of a thousand families settling into my lungs. But something strange happened in that fraction of a femto— I stood at the helm of the Papatuanuku where the reality-grid began to fray and likes pings and emojis faded away. Weary—my sighs exhaled. Gasp sharp! I inhaled again and again—could it be? Yes. Momentum moved gradual certain for there yonder I witnessed the gathering of the Knights a constellation of resolve though my sensors whispered of calculated failure. The helm resisted my touch. The navigation wheel felt like it was encased in lead dragging as the ship drifted several degrees off-course. I fought the weight my muscles burning as momentum bled off into the void.

Balderdash we said—for vibe and rebound we do ’tis right: stumble face-flat embarrass ego be. But nay PsyOps would not prevail. Rise we must and as the sun did rise once again so did we.

The Knights continued. The signal broke. Ecocide smiled. (End Chapter 1)