Magnus Red sat hunched over his workbench in the dim light of his cluttered Earth workshop, hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the microcircuitry of his latest invention. The memories of Europa Station flooded back—the alarms blaring, his teammates' panicked faces as the cascade reactor began to fail, his stubborn insistence that he could fix it alone. His grandfather's weathered voice echoed in his mind with painful clarity: "The greatest engineers know when to ask for help."

  Magnus set down his tools and rubbed his eyes. Around him, the workshop told two stories at once. On one wall hung tools in perfect order—wrenches, drivers, and calibrators arranged by size and function. The rest of the space existed in calculated chaos—half-finished inventions spread across three tables, mechanical puzzles stacked in corners, and circuit boards dotting every surface.

  A clock ticked somewhere behind him. The soft whir of an air purifier provided the only other sound in the room. No voices. No team chatter. No urgent questions about power fluctuations or system diagnostics.

  He picked up a small photo frame hidden beneath schematics. The image showed five people in matching blue jumpsuits, arms around each other's shoulders, Europa's icy surface visible through a viewport behind them. They smiled. They trusted him.

  The station's reactor had given warning signs for weeks. Small power dips. Unusual radiation readings. Nothing he couldn't handle alone—or so he had thought.

  "System failure imminent," the AI had announced in that flat, emotionless voice.

  "I've got this," Magnus had told them. "Everyone to the escape pods. Standard protocol."

  "We should stay together," Eliza had argued.

  "Go. I'll be right behind you."

  They went. He stayed. The reactor stabilized—temporarily—just long enough for the evacuation.

  Magnus placed the photo face-down and returned to his work. His fingers moved with precision despite their slight tremor. The small device before him might not repair the past, but perhaps it would prevent similar failures in the future.

  Outside his workshop window, night had fallen. The stars offered cold comfort, distant reminders of the colleagues who no longer returned his calls. The greatest engineers know when to ask for help. His grandfather had been right.

  Magnus continued working in silence.

  The sudden ping of an incoming transmission cut through his brooding, casting the workshop in an eerie blue light as the holographic display materialized above his communication console. Magnus approached the glowing interface, his pulse quickening as he recognized the Colonial Expansion Union's urgent channel designation from Xxlayn-IV.

  "Emergency situation code alpha-nine," announced the automated voice. "Colony Xxlayn-IV requesting immediate technical consultation."

  The message unfolded before him in stark data points. Self-replicating nanobots, designed for environmental repair, had broken containment protocols. They now spread through the colony's infrastructure, consuming raw materials and multiplying beyond control parameters. Already two habitat domes had lost power, and the main water purification system showed signs of compromise.

  Magnus ran his hand through his blond hair, leaving it more disheveled than before. His throat constricted as Europa Station memories resurfaced—the screams over the comm system, the reactor's warning lights, his teammates' faces as they boarded the escape pods without him.

  "Situation requires specialist with advanced nanotechnology experience," continued the message. "Previous attempts at containment have failed. Estimated colony survival without intervention: seven days."

  Magnus stepped back from the console, bumping into his workbench. The small device he'd been perfecting—a fail-safe system that might have saved Europa Station—toppled to the floor. He bent to retrieve it, hands unsteady.

  The hologram shifted to display the colony's layout. Xxlayn-IV: two hundred and fifty thousand colonists on an alien world, facing technological extinction because someone had created something they couldn't control.

  Just like he had done.

  The face of Dr. Rachel Kim appeared on screen. "This is a direct appeal to Magnus Red. We know your history with Europa Station. We also know you're the only one who might understand these nanobots well enough to stop them."

  Magnus stood frozen, caught between fear of repeating his greatest failure and the possibility of redemption.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He touched the console, accepting the transmission. "This is Red. I'll need everything you have on the nanobot programming architecture. And prepare a landing zone. I'm on my way."

  While preparing for departure on the cramped transit shuttle to the QNN terminal, Magnus meticulously studied Dr. Kim's research notes on his tablet. The screen cast a pale light across his face as he scrolled through her detailed warnings about nanobot testing protocols—warnings the colony leadership had evidently dismissed. The shuttle's engines vibrated through the metal floor panels beneath his boots.

  "Containment field breach at 06:42. Requested emergency shutdown denied by Administrator Voss," read one entry dated three days ago.

  The parallels hit Magnus with uncomfortable familiarity. He had once raised similar concerns about Europa Station's reactor fluctuations, concerns that station management had brushed aside as "within acceptable parameters."

  "Approaching QNN terminal," announced the automated system. "Please secure all personal items for final approach."

  Magnus glanced through the viewport as Earth's blue-green curve receded against the black backdrop of space. The massive quantum transportation hub grew larger—a gleaming wheel of metal and composite materials rotating slowly against the stars. The terminal's true scale became more apparent as they approached—a technological marvel connecting humanity's farthest outposts across impossible distances.

  "First time to Xxlayn?" asked a woman in a pilot's uniform who'd stopped in the aisle beside his seat.

  "First time," Magnus acknowledged. "You've been?"

  "Three rotations as a transport pilot." She grimaced. "Beautiful place, but those storms on the eastern continent will rattle your teeth. Pray they don't send you to the Crimson Wastes." She nodded to his bag. "You a tech specialist?"

  "Something like that."

  "For the nanobot situation? Word travels fast." She lowered her voice. "My sister's in the New Horizon dome. Says people are starting to panic."

  Magnus met her eyes. "I'm going to help."

  "Good luck." She moved on down the aisle, leaving Magnus to his thoughts.

  He pressed his palm against the cool transparent material of the viewport. Unlike Europa Station, he wouldn't insist on fixing this alone. Two hundred fifty thousand colonists—too many for evacuation. The stakes were too high for pride or solo heroics.

  The shuttle docked with a mechanical thunk, followed by the hiss of pressure equalization. Magnus gathered his equipment bag containing the basic tools he never traveled without—micro-calibrators, quantum field stabilizers, his grandfather's custom multi-tool. The colony would have resources he could work with, but these essentials had saved his life more than once.

  As the airlock cycled open, Magnus joined other passengers flowing into the terminal's main concourse. The space buzzed with activity—families with children, corporate teams in matching uniforms, military personnel with rigid posture. Digital signs floated overhead, directing travelers to their destinations.

  "Departure for Xxlayn-IV will commence in thirty minutes," announced the automated system. "All passengers please proceed to Quantum Gate 17."

  Magnus adjusted his tool bag and checked the terminal map on his tablet. The quantum gate appeared as a blinking blue dot at the far end of the eastern concourse. He quickened his pace, passing food vendors whose exotic aromas mingled with the terminal's recycled air.

  "Red! Magnus Red!"

  Magnus turned to find a thin man in a Colonial Expansion Union uniform hurrying toward him, weaving through the crowd.

  "I'm Specialist Torres, Xxlayn-IV Communications Division," he said, slightly out of breath. "Dr. Kim asked me to escort you to the quantum gate." His eyes darted nervously. "Time is… well, time is critical."

  "What's the latest?" Magnus asked as they began walking.

  "Third habitat dome showing signs of nanobot infiltration." Torres lowered his voice. "The Governor has finally authorized evacuation protocols, but there's nowhere to put a quarter million people. The nearest habitable colony is weeks away, even by quantum jump."

  They passed a news display showing footage of Xxlayn-IV—a predominantly rust-colored planet with swirling cloud patterns and three distinct continents. The overlay text read: "NANOTECH CRISIS CONTINUES: COLONIAL ADMINISTRATION DOWNPLAYS CONCERNS."

  As they approached the designated meeting point, Magnus spotted a woman he presumed was Dr. Rachel Kim. She stood apart from the other waiting passengers, reviewing holographic nanobot simulations with intense focus. The blue light from the projection illuminated her face as she manipulated the three-dimensional models with precise gestures.

  The simulation showed nanobots consuming a section of colony infrastructure, their reproduction rate displayed as an exponential curve in the corner of the projection. Dr. Kim paused the simulation, zoomed in on a specific nanobot cluster, and made a notation on her tablet.

  "Dr. Kim," Torres called out. "I've found him."

  She looked up, her dark eyes immediately locking onto Magnus. She dismissed the hologram with a flick of her wrist and stepped forward.

  "Mr. Red," she said, extending her hand. "I've read about your work at Europa Station."

  Magnus tensed as he shook her hand. "Then you know how it ended."

  "I know you stabilized a cascade reactor long enough for your entire team to evacuate safely." Her gaze was direct, analytical. "What interests me is how you did it."

  "Trial and error," Magnus replied. "And a complete disregard for safety protocols."

  The corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "Then we should get along fine. I've been told my own adherence to protocols is... selective at best."

  A chime sounded overhead, and the gate attendant announced boarding for Xxlayn-IV.

  "We have a twenty-minute quantum jump to discuss strategies," Dr. Kim said, gathering her equipment. "I've sent you the complete schematics for the nanobots, but there's more I haven't included in the official reports."

  "Such as?"

  Dr. Kim glanced around before answering. "These nanobots aren't just malfunctioning. I believe they're evolving. And if I'm right, we have far less than seven days before Xxlayn-IV becomes uninhabitable."

  Magnus felt a familiar tightening in his chest—the weight of lives depending on his skills. But unlike Europa Station, this time he wouldn't face the challenge alone.

  "Then we'd better not waste any time," he said, following Dr. Kim toward the quantum gate that would take them across the stars to a colony fighting for survival.