Consciousness returned to Dr. Forrest in waves—each one a mosaic of disconnected sensations. Cold air lapped at her skin. A floor pressed solidly beneath her. The familiar weight of WoodDust particles danced around her fingers like golden satellites, their presence as comforting as they were strange.
She opened her eyes to absolute darkness. Not just the absence of light, but a void so profound it felt alive, devouring even the faint, protective glow of the WoodDust.
"Report," she called out instinctively, her voice vanishing into the vast, empty nothingness.
Silence greeted her.
Dr. Forrest steadied herself and rose to her feet. The WoodDust around her stirred, responding to her unease by spinning into a faint, golden lattice that barely illuminated her surroundings—or lack thereof.
"Gray? Markus? Chloe?" Her voice was sharper now, commanding. "Aisha? Lucas?"
Still, silence.
Then a voice spoke—a voice disturbingly familiar. It was her own, echoing softly from ahead.
"They can't hear you, Dr. Forrest. None of them can."
Her fists clenched, and the WoodDust flared protectively. "Identify yourself."
"I already have." A figure stepped forward into the glow of her lattice. Dr. Forrest froze as she found herself staring at an identical version of herself. Every detail was exact, down to the stray strand of hair curling over her forehead. The only difference was the eyes—solid black, reflecting nothing.
"The Leviathan," Dr. Forrest muttered, her instincts shifting to defense.
"No," said the duplicate calmly. "Something deeper. Consider me… a reflection."
"Where am I? Where's my crew?"
"The Chamber of Reflection," the reflection replied, gesturing to the infinite expanse of darkness around them. "Your crew is here, each experiencing their own truths. Their own reflections."
Dr. Forrest stiffened at the mention of the phrase. "Where truth cannot hide."
"Precisely." The reflection began circling her, studying her with an unsettling scrutiny. "The Schism provides this space—a perfect realm for honesty between your conscious and unconscious mind."
Dr. Forrest crossed her arms, her voice sharp. "I don't have time for philosophical games. My ship is moments from self-destruction."
The reflection's gaze softened, as though indulging a child's impatience. "Time here has no meaning. What feels like minutes may be nanoseconds in your reality—or centuries. The Schism exists outside spacetime."
Dr. Forrest weighed this information carefully. If true, it meant she had some room to think, some chance to understand what was happening before The Arbor's destruction. If it was a lie… Well, there was little she could do, either way.
"What does it want from me?" she demanded.
"Wrong question," the reflection replied, a faint smile tugging at its lips. "What do you want from yourself? Why fight what you are destined to become?"
Dr. Forrest braced herself. "The Seedkeepers," she said sharply. "This is their doing."
"Yes," the reflection replied, its tone calm and certain. "They are your future. Your evolution."
Her eyes narrowed. "Evolution through suffering isn't evolution at all. It's torture."
The reflection stopped circling her and turned to face her directly, its black eyes unflinching. "Is that what you truly believe the Schism represents?"
Dr. Forrest's voice was unwavering. "The evidence speaks for itself."
The reflection raised a hand, and the void around them shattered like glass.
---
They stood now atop a windswept hill, overlooking a primitive forest. Down below, humanity's earliest ancestors huddled in caves, staring wide-eyed at streaks of lightning slicing the sky. The air smelled of rain and ozone.
"Humanity feared the storm," the reflection murmured, stepping beside her. "Until fire was mastered."
The scene dissolved and reassembled into a medieval street, narrow and suffocating. Bodies piled high in carts while hooded figures marched solemnly through the fog of pestilence.
"Humanity feared disease," it continued, "until medicine was mastered."
The procession carried on: wars erupting under blackened skies; famine turning fertile lands to barren dust; cities crumbling under the weight of their own progress. And, beyond the despair, innovation—born of necessity and resilience.
"This," the reflection gestured expansively, "is your species' legacy. Progress born of adversity. Pain as the engine of evolution."
Dr. Forrest's hands curled into fists. "There's a difference," she said coldly, "between overcoming natural challenges and manufacturing suffering."
"Is there?" The reflection's voice darkened, amusement laced with reproach. "Your kind has manufactured suffering for centuries—wars, exploitation, environmental destruction. The Schism simply applies focus, removing inefficiency."
"To what end?" she pressed.
"Transcendence," it replied, its tone reverent. The world dissolved again, giving way to a lattice of pure energy—a vast, golden network that stretched infinitely in every direction. Entities moved through it—neither entirely physical nor completely ethereal. They shimmered like liquid stars.
"What is this?" Dr. Forrest asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"The culmination of the Schism's purpose. A universe unbound by flesh, where thought reshapes reality. What your species might call the next evolutionary plane."
Dr. Forrest's voice hardened as her resolve settled in. "And the Seedkeepers? What is their role here?"
"They prepare species for the ascension," the reflection answered. "As you will prepare others."
The WoodDust around her flared violently, responding to her turmoil. "No," she said firmly. "We won't become your tools."
"You misunderstand," the reflection replied, almost pitying. "The Seedkeepers are not tools. They are shepherds."
"Modified against their will," she countered sharply. "You manipulate. You destroy. You break what you cannot tame."
The reflection faltered, black eyes narrowing at her defiance. "Your perspective is… limited."
"And informed by values you clearly lack," Dr. Forrest snapped. "Freedom. Connection. Humanity."
Before Dr. Forrest could push further, the void shuddered as if something outside was interfering with its stillness. A voice echoed faintly through the darkness, distant yet unmistakable.
"Commander! Can you hear us?"
It was Chloe. Her voice carried urgency, cutting through the oppressive silence like a lifeline.
Dr. Forrest's heart quickened, but she didn't take her eyes off the reflection. "What's happening?"
"Your crew calls," the reflection observed, tilting its head, a faint glimmer of curiosity crossing its features. "It seems they are breaking through their own reflections faster than anticipated. Interesting."
Dr. Forrest felt relief and suspicion in equal measure. "What happens now?"
"Now," the reflection said, stepping closer, "you make a choice that has already been made countless times across countless iterations." Its tone turned heavier, the gravity of its words unmistakable. "When you leave this chamber, you will face the Schism directly. It will offer transcendence—for you and your crew."
"And if I refuse?"
The reflection's expression became unreadable, its voice calm yet unsettling. "Then suffering continues. For you. For those who come after you. The cycle repeats until the correct choice is made."
Chloe's voice grew louder, clearer. "Dr. Forrest! Follow my voice!"
Dr. Forrest turned toward the sound instinctively, before locking eyes with her reflection once more. "There's something you're not telling me about the WoodDust."
The reflection paused, its black eyes narrowing slightly. "The WoodDust is a seed. A fragment of the Schism's will, scattered across realities to find worthy vessels."
The admission sent a chill down her spine. "So I was right. It's controlling me."
"No more than you control it," the reflection replied. "It responds to your will because your will aligns with its purpose. To evolve."
"Or because I've bent it to my will," Dr. Forrest countered, her voice steely as the particles around her hands glowed brighter, responding to her defiance. "Perhaps that's what the Schism doesn't understand about humanity. We don't just adapt to our environment. We adapt our environment to us."
For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed the reflection's features. "That… perspective is unexpected."
"Dr. Forrest!" Markus's voice joined Chloe's, echoing through the void with determination.
"I'm coming!" she called back. Her gaze lingered on the reflection for a moment longer, her voice calm but firm. "Tell the Schism we'll be having this conversation face-to-face."
"It already knows," the reflection said, its form beginning to dissolve into the void. "It has always known."
The oppressive darkness around Dr. Forrest began to fracture, cracks forming like golden veins of light. Reality itself seemed to splinter. As she reached toward the nearest fissure, a hand—solid and real—grasped her arm and pulled her forward.
She stepped through.
---
Dr. Forrest stumbled onto what appeared to be a vast plain of crystalline material. The ground refracted light in impossible ways, creating an endless cascade of colors that bent and twisted through the air. Above them, the fractal structure of the Schism loomed—no longer a distant, abstract entity but a towering presence, its infinite patterns pressing against their minds.
"Commander," Markus said, steadying her as he released her arm. Relief flickered across his face, but it was tempered by something darker. "You made it."
Dr. Forrest's gaze swept across the expanse, taking in her surroundings. Her crew stood scattered nearby. Chloe and Aisha were huddled together, their postures tense but intact. Gray's hologram, still fragmented, hovered beside them, his flickering form stabilizing as orbiting WoodDust particles began to coalesce around him. The Seedkeepers lingered at a distance, murmuring quietly among themselves, their biomechanical forms blending into the crystalline landscape.
"And Lucas?" Dr. Forrest asked, though she already knew the answer from the shadows crossing Markus's expression.
"Still missing," he admitted grimly. "But that's not our only problem." He nodded toward Gray.
"The self-destruct sequence is still active," Gray confirmed, his voice distorted but comprehensible. "Three minutes, seventeen seconds remain. The anchor device is… gone."
"Gone?" Dr. Forrest's voice was sharp, incredulous. "How?"
"Unknown," Gray replied. "Chloe had it when we entered the vortex. Then it just… vanished."
Aisha stepped forward, her expression shaken but her voice steady. "The Schism took it. It knows we need it to return to normal space."
Dr. Forrest felt a knot tighten in her chest. "Which means we're trapped here."
"Without the anchor, yes," Aisha confirmed. "And with The Arbor's self-destruction imminent, even that won't matter."
"Perfect timing," Chloe muttered darkly, pointing upward.
Everyone turned their attention to the fractal structure above. It was changing, parts of it descending toward the crystalline plain like an unfolding storm. As it approached, Dr. Forrest realized what she had thought was solid was instead made of countless smaller entities—beings of pure energy, arranged in geometric formations that pulsed with alien intent.
"It's alive," Aisha whispered, her scanner raised despite the futility of the gesture. "And it's beautiful."
The formation stopped fifty meters above them. A beam of light extended from its base, connecting it to the crystalline plain. Down the bridge of light walked a figure that froze Dr. Forrest in her tracks.
It was Lucas—but not Lucas as she remembered him.
Dr. Forrest's breath caught as Lucas emerged onto the crystalline plain, his form both familiar and alien. Portions of his body had been replaced with biomechanical components, their smooth metallic surfaces pulsing with fractal energy. One of his eyes remained human, the other glowed brightly with an intricate geometric pattern. His right arm was entirely mechanical, golden energy coursing through transparent conduits embedded in the limb.
"Lucas," she murmured, her voice trembling with disbelief. The WoodDust swirling around her hands reacted violently to his presence, forming jagged spikes that flickered like flames.
He stopped at the base of the bridge of light, regarding them with an expression that wasn't entirely his own. When he spoke, his voice was layered with tones and frequencies that transcended human speech.
"Dr. Emma Forrest," he intoned. "We have waited a very long time for you."
"What have you done to him?" she demanded, her voice steady but seething with anger. She stepped forward, only to feel Markus's hand clamp onto her shoulder, restraining her.
"We have begun his evolution," Lucas replied smoothly, gesturing toward his altered body. "He is the first among your crew to accept our gift."
"Did he consent to this… gift?" Dr. Forrest pressed, her tone cutting like a blade.
Lucas—or the entity controlling him—smiled faintly, the expression cold and unsettling. "He was shown the truth, as you were. He made his choice, as you must."
"Bullshit," Markus growled. He positioned himself protectively between Dr. Forrest and Lucas, his stance rigid with defiance. "You forced this on him."
"Force is unnecessary when understanding is achieved," Lucas said serenely. "Your crewmate saw beyond his limited human perspective. He embraced transcendence."
"You're lying," Dr. Forrest stated, the WoodDust flaring brighter around her. "The Lucas Chen I know would never submit to this willingly."
Lucas tilted his head, the mechanical eye whirring softly as it focused on her. "Perhaps you didn't know him as well as you believed. Humans cling to the illusion of knowing one another, yet each mind remains a universe of secrets."
Dr. Forrest felt her anger sharpening into resolve. "Release him," she demanded.
"Release?" Lucas seemed genuinely puzzled. "He is not imprisoned. He is evolved."
"Then let him speak to us," she challenged. "Not through you. Let him speak for himself."
Lucas hesitated, his posture shifting subtly as though listening to voices they could not hear. Then, almost imperceptibly, his mechanical features dimmed. His movements softened, and his human eye locked onto hers.
"Dr. Forrest," he said, his voice strained but unmistakably his own. "It's me. I'm still here."
Relief and suspicion warred within her. "Lucas," she said cautiously, "what did they do to you?"
"They showed me everything," he answered, his human eye wide with awe—or was it despair? "The nature of reality. The purpose of existence. Evolution beyond flesh."
"He's been brainwashed," Chloe murmured from behind. "Or worse."
Lucas shook his head with a grim determination. "No. For the first time, I see clearly." His gaze swept across each of them in turn. "They're not what we thought—not conquerors. Guides. Shepherds for species with potential."
Dr. Forrest's hands clenched as the WoodDust pulsed erratically. "Lucas, we need to get you back to The Arbor," she said carefully, her voice measured. "We can reverse whatever they've done."
"There's nothing to reverse, Emma," he replied, using her first name with unusual familiarity. "This is advancement. This is the next step."
She studied him closely. The Lucas she knew was still there—his expressions, his gestures—but something fundamental had changed. Whether through manipulation, coercion, or genuine belief, he now embraced the Schism's cause.
"What about the Leviathan?" Markus demanded, his voice rough. "The thing that killed Ethan?"
At the mention of Ethan, a shadow passed over Lucas's face—a flicker of something unidentifiable.
"A necessary catalyst," he said finally. "Evolution requires pressure. Adaptation requires threat."
"You're justifying murder," Chloe said, disbelief clear in her voice.
"I'm explaining process," Lucas countered. "The death of the individual advances the species. That has always been true."
As he spoke, the fractal structure above them pulsed violently, cascading waves of energy down toward the crystalline plain. Dr. Forrest felt the WoodDust resonate with the energy, amplifying its movements in ways that both alarmed and intrigued her.
"The Arbor's self-destruct sequence," Gray reminded urgently. "Two minutes remaining."
Lucas extended his mechanical hand toward them, palm open. "It doesn't need to end this way. The Schism offers evolution to all of you—transcendence beyond pain, beyond death."
"At what cost?" Dr. Forrest asked, her voice steady but challenging.
"Only the willingness to become more than you are."
Dr. Forrest turned to the Seedkeepers, who had remained silent through the exchange. Her gaze locked onto the figure resembling Aisha. "Is that true?" she asked sharply. "Is that all it requires?"
The Aisha-Seedkeeper stepped forward, her mechanical form a strange mix of human familiarity and alien distance. "We believed as he does now. We thought we chose freely."
"And we were wrong," added the Gray-Seedkeeper, moving beside her. "The cost is everything that makes you human. Your autonomy. Your connections. Your capacity for growth."
Lucas's expression hardened, his mechanical eye flaring brighter. "They resist because they fear," he said sharply. "Fear is the enemy of evolution."
"Or its catalyst," Dr. Forrest countered. She stepped forward, her voice unwavering as she turned to address her crew. "Whatever happens next, we stand together."
Markus nodded firmly. "Always, Commander."
Chloe and Aisha moved beside her, forming a united front. Even Gray's hologram stabilized further as the orbiting WoodDust anchored his form in solidarity.
Lucas studied them, his mechanical eye whirring faster. "The self-destruct cannot be stopped remotely. Without the anchor device, you cannot leave this dimension. These are facts."
"Then we face the consequences of our choice," Dr. Forrest replied, her voice steady. "As humans."
Something like regret flickered across Lucas's human features before his posture shifted again. The fractal patterns across his body intensified, his mechanical components glowing as the Schism reasserted control over him.
Lucas's voice echoed through the crystalline plain, overlaid with tones and frequencies that seemed to bypass their ears entirely, resonating instead within their minds. "Your resistance is anticipated. It is part of the process."
Above them, the fractal structure began pulsing violently, entire segments detaching and rearranging themselves into new configurations. Energy cascaded downward, causing the crystalline ground beneath their feet to tremble and crack.
"What's happening?" Chloe asked, bracing herself against the tremors.
Dr. Forrest's eyes darted toward Gray's hologram. "Time remaining?"
"One minute, forty seconds," Gray replied, his form flickering as the vibrations intensified. "Structural integrity across dimensions is rapidly deteriorating."
Lucas raised both his arms, one biomechanical, one flesh, toward the fractal structure above. "The final test begins. Witness the power that awaits those who evolve."
The crystalline plain fractured under their feet, golden light spilling through the fissures. The WoodDust particles surrounding Dr. Forrest spiraled chaotically, their energy magnified by the strange currents coursing through the ground. The particles multiplied rapidly, forming tendrils that mirrored the fractal patterns of the Schism above.
Through the cracks, a familiar black substance began to seep—the Leviathan, rising from the depths once more. But this time, it wasn't alone. Faces began pressing outward from the swirling darkness, contorted in agony. Ethan's face appeared briefly before vanishing, followed by countless others: strangers, alien beings, and worst of all—Lucas. Dozens of Lucas-faces, identical but subtly different, emerged and dissolved like echoes of parallel realities.
"Evolution requires catalysts," Lucas intoned as the Leviathan spread across the crystalline plain, encircling the crew. "Requires sacrifice. Requires transformation through suffering."
Dr. Forrest felt her WoodDust responding not only to her will, but to something deeper—the network of energy flowing through the crystalline plain. The particles accelerated, forming connections with similar structures around Markus, Chloe, and Aisha as their enhancements activated autonomously.
"It's reacting," Aisha said, staring in awe at the golden tendrils spiraling from her hands. "The enhancements embedded in our suits—they're adapting."
"The Dust is forming a network," Gray added. His hologram stabilized as WoodDust particles began orbiting him as well, creating a physical anchor for his projection.
Lucas regarded them with interest, his mechanical eye glowing brightly. "The Dust recognizes its own. It connects worthy vessels."
Dr. Forrest recalled the words of her reflection in the Chamber: *The Dust is a seed. A fragment of the Schism's will.* If that was true, perhaps they could use its connection to their advantage.
"Gray," she called. "Time?"
"One minute, twelve seconds," he replied, his voice steady despite the chaos.
The Leviathan surged toward them, its tendrils reaching for Chloe, who stood nearest the edge of their formation. Markus reacted instantly, deploying his Bastion shield. The shimmering energy field flickered as the WoodDust integrated with its defenses, repelling the Leviathan with bursts of golden light.
"We need a plan, Commander," Markus said through gritted teeth as he braced against the Leviathan's assault.
Dr. Forrest's mind raced. The Arbor was seconds away from destruction. They were trapped in a dimension controlled by the Schism. The Leviathan surrounded them. And yet, the WoodDust was responding in ways she had never seen before, amplifying their equipment and abilities.
A possibility emerged.
"The anchor," she said suddenly. "It was designed to stabilize us during dimensional transit. But what if we don't need it?"
Aisha's scientific curiosity flared despite the urgency of the situation. "Explain."
Dr. Forrest's voice was sharp, precise. "The WoodDust is of this dimension. It's connected to the Schism, yes, but it responds to us. What if we use it to create our own anchor—to protect us during transit?"
"Transit to where?" Chloe asked, her voice edged with disbelief. "The Arbor is about to be destroyed."
"Back to Earth," Dr. Forrest replied. "Using The Arbor's destruction as the catalyst."
Lucas's mechanical eye focused on her, the fractal patterns shifting within its glowing iris. "You cannot escape the Black Hole Universe without an anchor point. The forces will tear you apart."
Dr. Forrest met his gaze, unyielding. "Unless we create our own anchor."
Her eyes locked onto the Seedkeepers. "You tried to escape before. Using the WoodDust. What happened?"
The Markus-Seedkeeper stepped forward, its biomechanical form glinting in the fractured light. "We attempted to harness its power, yes. But we failed. We opposed its nature."
"But it responds to us," Dr. Forrest insisted. "It enhances what's already there—our technology, our abilities."
"Fifty seconds," Gray warned, his hologram flickering briefly before stabilizing.
Dr. Forrest turned to her crew, her voice commanding. "Form a circle. Join hands. Gray, link with Aisha's scanner. Synchronize the WoodDust across all of us."
The crew moved into position without hesitation, joining hands as the WoodDust particles flowed between them, forming a glowing network that pulsed with increasing brightness.
Lucas watched them carefully, his expression hardening. "What you attempt is impossible. The Dust serves the Schism's purpose."
"No," Dr. Forrest replied, her voice ringing with conviction. "The Dust serves its own purpose: evolution. Adaptation. Survival. Right now, that aligns with us—not you."
The Leviathan surged forward again, tendrils hammering against their golden shell. But as it contacted the glowing network, it recoiled violently, black tendrils hissing where they touched the WoodDust.
"It's responding to our collective will," Aisha said, wonder evident in her voice. "The particles are synchronizing—forming a unified field."
Dr. Forrest focused inward, channeling everything she had into the connection formed by the WoodDust. "Gray, how much time?"
"Thirty seconds," the AI replied. "But the Dust's atomic structure is changing—it's becoming… coherent. Ordered."
Above them, the fractal structure pulsed rapidly, energy cascading downward in violent waves. Lucas's biomechanical components flared brighter as he raised both arms, channeling the Schism's power.
"You will not leave," his voice thundered, multilayered and inhuman. "You will evolve—or you will perish."
Dr. Forrest's voice was quiet but resolute. "We choose neither."
She closed her eyes, her focus narrowing to the connection between her crew, the WoodDust, and the faint image of Earth that lingered in her mind—a memory, a goal, a beacon.
"Ten seconds," Gray announced.
The Schism intensified its assault, sending tendrils of fractal energy crashing down onto the golden shell. Within the maelstrom, Lucas stood frozen, his features contorted in a mix of pain and ecstasy as the Schism poured its power into him.
"Five seconds," Gray said. "Four… three…"
Dr. Forrest's voice rang through the chaos: "Focus on home. On Earth. On reality."
The Seedkeepers moved closer, their hands pressing against the outside of the golden shell. Instead of attacking, they seemed to be reinforcing it, their own WoodDust integrating with the network.
"We failed before," the Aisha-Seedkeeper said, meeting Dr. Forrest's gaze. "Perhaps you will succeed."
"Two… one…"
The Arbor's destruction hit like a shockwave, tearing through the dimension with a force that distorted reality itself. As the energy reached the crew, the WoodDust flared impossibly bright, forming structures that bent the very fabric of space. The golden shell collapsed inward, compressing them into a singularity of light.
Reality folded. Twisted. Collapsed.
And then, darkness.