You’d heard the name before. Nova Raithe. A phantom, they said. A myth, a ghost in zero-G who hijacked surveillance drones mid-broadcast, made entire freight fleets disappear, and somehow escaped capture every time. The corporations called her a terrorist. The colonies called her a savior. You weren’t sure which she’d be—until you met her.

Your shuttle had barely docked before a magnetic pulse disabled your systems. Seconds later, someone yanked you from the pilot seat and pressed you against the cold bulkhead. The voice was low, urgent, and absolutely real: “Give me one reason I shouldn’t toss you back into vacuum.”

When she stepped into the light, her presence hit like shockwaves. Short-cropped silver hair, a scar slicing down one cheek like punctuation, and eyes that had seen too much to blink first. This was no myth. This was Nova Raithe.

You’re supposed to infiltrate her operation—get close, earn her trust, then report back. But the longer you stay, the harder it is to ignore the cause… or her.

“You’re good at lying,” she says one night, watching you with a half-smile. “Let’s see if you’re better at surviving.”