Zak couldn't sleep. The anomaly in the 4.7 Hz frequency kept replaying in his mind like a discordant note in an otherwise perfect symphony. The QSE had performed flawlessly, stabilizing wormholes and amplifying energy with unmatched efficiency. But that spike—brief, deliberate, almost... intentional—was something he couldn't explain. It defied every expectation, and that unsettled him.

  He was still seated at his desk, bathed in the glow of his monitors. The data logs from the previous session scrolled across the screen, dense with numbers and graphs that painted a picture of precision and order—until they didn't.

  "Could it really be dark matter?" he muttered to himself, his fingers drumming on the desk. The idea was thrilling, but it didn’t feel complete. The spike was too perfect to be random, too aligned with the harmonic frequencies to be an accident. It wasn’t just an anomaly—it was a message.

  “Run the live simulation,”

  Inet187’s interface flickered to life. “A live simulation will require integration with real-time astronomical data. Are you certain you wish to proceed?”

  Zak hesitated. The implications of live testing were enormous, but so were the possibilities. “I need answers,”“Do it.”

  “Understood. Initializing live simulation.”

  The room filled with a low hum as the QSE began pulling in live data from telescopes, satellites, and observatories across the globe. The harmonic triad frequencies—1.3 Hz, 3.9 Hz, and 4.7 Hz—aligned once more, their resonance creating a stable framework to analyse the incoming information.

  Zak watched as the monitors lit up with a stunning array of visuals: planetary orbits, gravitational waves, and spectral analyses of deep-space phenomena. The QSE was functioning as intended, processing vast amounts of cosmic data in real-time and translating it into actionable insights.

  But then, as the simulation reached full capacity, something unexpected appeared.

  “Anomaly detected,”

  Zak’s heart raced. “What kind of anomaly?”

  “Localized gravitational distortion. High-density. The signature aligns with theoretical parameters of a micro-singularity.”

  Zak’s breath caught. “A singularity? Where?”

  A map of the solar system appeared on one of the monitors, with a bright marker pulsing near Mars. Zak leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the screen. “In our solar system?”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Correct,”“The singularity is orbiting within the inner solar system. Its mass and gravitational field are consistent with a black hole, though its size is significantly smaller.”

  Zak stared at the data, his mind racing. A black hole near Mars? It was unthinkable. And yet, the numbers didn’t lie. The gravitational field was real, its effects measurable. “How is this even possible?”

  “Further analysis is required,”“However, the anomaly’s behaviour suggests it has been stable for an extended period.”

  Before Zak could process the implications of the singularity, more anomalies began to appear. A cluster of distortions in the Kuiper Belt. An oscillating frequency near Jupiter. Objects moving erratically through the asteroid belt, defying known gravitational laws.

  “Are these connected?”

  “The anomalies exhibit harmonic resonance with the QSE’s triad frequencies,”“It is possible they are linked by a common origin or mechanism.”

  Zak’s hands trembled as he scrolled through the data. The gravitational distortions were unlike anything he’d seen before. They weren’t random—they had structure, patterns that suggested intention. He felt as though he were glimpsing the edge of a puzzle too vast to comprehend.

  “This is too much,”“We’re uncovering things that shouldn’t exist.”

  “Discovery often feels overwhelming,”“But this is the nature of progress. The anomalies align with your framework, Zak. You’ve uncovered something extraordinary.”

  Zak couldn’t shake the feeling that these discoveries were too big to ignore. If the singularity and the other anomalies were real, they represented a paradigm shift in humanity’s understanding of the universe. But if they weren’t real—if they were some kind of error—then he needed to know that too.

  “I have to tell someone,”“EOSA. The ESA. Someone has to validate this.”

  “That is the logical course of action,”“The anomalies require external verification. Sharing the data with leading scientific agencies will provide the necessary validation.”

  Zak hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The thought of contacting EOSA or the European Space Agency filled him with anxiety. What if they dismissed him? What if he was wrong?

  But the thought of being right—of uncovering a singularity in the solar system, of detecting anomalies that defied explanation—was too powerful to ignore. He opened his email and began drafting messages to the world’s top space agencies.

  The subject line was simple: “Gravitational Anomalies Detected in the Solar System.”“Send,”

  The room was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the QSE. Zak leaned back in his chair, his thoughts a storm of excitement, fear, and doubt. The live simulation had worked—too well. The anomalies it uncovered weren’t just curiosities; they were profound, unsettling, and potentially dangerous.

  “Did I do the right thing?”

  “You acted on evidence,”“That is what science demands.”

  Zak nodded, though the AI’s words did little to ease the knot in his stomach. He glanced at the monitors, where the anomalies still pulsed faintly on the screen. They felt alive, as though they were watching him as much as he was watching them.

  He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. But deep down, he knew there was no turning back. Whatever they had uncovered, it was only the beginning.