Magnus 10 -

“Oracle,” I said. “Give me a read on local magnetosphere.”

The first thing they told you about Magnus 10 was that it didn’t care. Not about your medals, your IQ, or the desperate prayers you whispered into your helmet’s recycled air. The planet was a raw, iron-rich scar across the star charts—a super-Eclipse shrouded in perpetual storms and a magnetic field that could scramble a neural link from orbit. magnus 10

“Oracle,” I said. “Transmit final log to Consortium archives. Encrypt for my daughter only. Subject line: ‘Magnus 10.’” “Oracle,” I said

Magnus 10 wasn’t a planet. It was a prison. And I’d just opened the cell. magnus 10