The rhythmic hum of emergency systems reverberated through the bridge, uneven and distorted like a heartbeat out of sync. Emma stirred, the dim light casting jagged, unnatural shadows that danced across the walls. She blinked rapidly, her breath catching as her vision adjusted to the chaos outside the viewport.
The universe beyond was fractured. Stars spiraled and twisted into incomprehensible patterns, their light stretched and tangled as they circled invisible gravitational cores. Planets shimmered like mirages, their forms bending and overlapping as they traced impossible orbits. The expanse was bathed in a twilight glow, painting the bridge with hues of violet and gold that seemed alive.
Aisha's whisper broke the silence. "This… this defies everything." Her voice was trembling, caught between terror and wonder. Her gaze remained fixed on the fractal chaos, her awe momentarily outweighing her fear.
Emma steadied herself against the console as the WoodDust swirled around her hands, its golden fractals reacting instinctively. The particles moved in synchronized patterns, mirroring the warped geometry outside. "This isn't right," she muttered, her tone low but edged with urgency. "It's like… reality itself is unraveling."
"The Black Hole Universe," the most human-like Seedkeeper said, its voice calm and resonant. Standing near the anchor device, its biomechanical form was unnervingly still. "The Schism's domain—a forge where the fabric of existence is tested and reforged."
Chloe's voice snapped Emma out of her thoughts. "Commander, we're falling apart. Gravity stabilizers are misfiring. Hull integrity is at fifty percent and dropping." Her frustration boiled over as she slammed her hand against the console. "I'm trying to hold this together, but it's like the ship is fighting me."
"The anchor is barely keeping us stable," Aisha added, her hands hovering over the glowing device at the center of the bridge. The pulses of blue light flickered erratically, dimming with each cycle. "It's burning out fast. Two hours, maybe less."
Emma forced herself to focus, her sharp gaze scanning the bridge. Markus stood near tactical, his Bastion shield across his back, his expression grim and unyielding. Ethan hovered near the Seedkeepers, his glowing energy blades humming faintly as he observed them in silence. Chloe furiously worked to stabilize the failing systems, her frustration etched into every motion. Aisha monitored the anchor with a mixture of awe and precision. Liam's sharp eyes darted between streams of data, his analytical mind searching for patterns in the chaos.
Her team was present—but one vital presence was missing.
"Where's Lucas?" Emma's voice cut through the tension, a command wrapped in barely masked dread.
The crew exchanged uneasy glances before Markus broke the silence. "He vanished during transition," he said grimly. "He was reaching for you—then he was just… gone."
Emma's chest tightened as a vivid memory surfaced. Lucas, standing beside her in the observation deck, sharing stories of his childhood. The warmth in his voice, the way he could calm the entire crew with a single look. She had relied on his steadiness more than she cared to admit. And now he was gone—because of her decision to bring them here. The guilt was suffocating.
"Gray," Emma said, forcing the words through the knot in her throat. "Initiate a shipwide scan. Find him."
Gray's voice emerged from the speakers, layered and dissonant. "Scanning… but the data is inconsistent. I'm seeing too many outcomes. Too many versions."
"What does that mean?" Liam asked, his analytical tone cutting through the confusion.
Gray materialized as a flickering hologram, his image splintering into distorted versions. One sneered with cold calculation, another trembled in visible distress, and the third stared blankly. "I see Lucas in engineering. Lucas on the observation deck. And Lucas who… is no longer Lucas."
Emma turned sharply to the Seedkeepers, her tone sharp as steel. "What's happening to him?"
The mechanical Seedkeeper responded without hesitation. "The Black Hole Universe exists in quantum superposition. All possibilities converge within this crucible. Your friend is entangled within its threads."
"That's not good enough," Emma snapped, her voice breaking through the calm veneer of the Seedkeepers. "I want him found—and brought back."
"Commander," Chloe interrupted, her voice tight with urgency. "We've detected a structure ahead. It's massive—fifteen million kilometers and closing fast."
The viewscreen shifted, revealing the construct. It was a labyrinth of fractals, folding endlessly into itself. Its patterns pulsed with alien energy that pressed against their minds, heavy and suffocating.
Aisha's breath hitched, her voice barely a whisper. "It's… alive. And it's beautiful."
Emma's attention turned to the WoodDust swirling around her hands. The particles shifted in perfect rhythm with the construct, their motion deliberate and synchronized. "It's reacting," she muttered, her pulse quickening. "Why is it reacting?"
A vibration passed through the ship, deeper than sound—a resonance that settled in their bones and minds. The crew faltered as the presence filled the bridge, its voice vast and inexorable:
WE ARE THE ARCHITECTS OF POTENTIAL. THREADS OF FATE ARE OUR DOMAIN.
Markus gritted his teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of his console. Chloe let out a sharp breath, her frustration giving way to fear. Aisha's awe deepened, her trembling hands clutching her scanner as if it could make sense of the incomprehensible.
Emma squared her shoulders, her voice resolute. "Why did you bring us here?"
TO UNVEIL. TO TEST. TO REMAKE.
The WoodDust flared brighter around her hands, its fractals spinning faster. Emma's heart pounded as she gritted her teeth. "It's responding to me. What does it want?"
THE SEEDS YOU BEAR ARE THREADS OF OUR DESIGN. YOU ARE THE KEY AND THE QUESTION.
Emma's breath hitched. Her eyes burned, but her resolve didn't falter. "We weren't chosen—we chose to come here."
YOUR PATH WAS WOVEN LONG BEFORE YOU DREAMED OF IT.
The Leviathan emerged on the viewscreen, its black mass larger and more defined than ever. Faces twisted and pressed against its surface, their silent screams resonating through the bridge. As it shifted, Lucas's face materialized—its features impossibly clear.
"Commander," Lucas's voice crackled over the comms, raw and trembling. "I'm trapped in engineering. Please—help me."
Emma froze. It sounded so real, so painfully familiar. But the Schism had manipulated them before. Could she trust this?
Markus stepped forward, his voice steady and resolute. "Permission to investigate?"
Emma hesitated, the guilt threatening to suffocate her. Finally, she nodded. "Constant communication. The moment anything feels wrong, retreat immediately."
"I'll go too," Ethan added quietly, his energy blades glowing faintly.
Emma watched as they left the bridge. Her heart felt heavier with every step they took. The fractal construct loomed closer, its pulse matching the rhythm of the WoodDust swirling around her hands. Whatever the Schism intended, Emma knew time was running out—and the threads of fate were tightening.