The Door
The door was larger than anything Mira had ever seen.
It stretched across the void like a wound in the fabric of space itself, its edges jagged and irregular, as if it had been torn open by something vast and hungry. The silver light that pulsed from its surface was not the soft, gentle glow of the signal — it was harsh and bright and cold, like the light of a dying star.
The fleet hung in the darkness, their engines silent, their crews watching. The smaller ships looked like children huddled against a parent, afraid of what loomed before them but unwilling to turn away.
Mira stood on the observation deck, her hands pressed against the cold glass, her silver eyes fixed on the door.
She could feel it.
The song.
It was louder now — not a whisper, not a memory, but a living thing. It pulsed through her veins, her bones, her breath. It filled the ship, the fleet, the void itself.
Mira, it sang. Mira. Mira. Mira.
“What is it saying?” Zander asked.
He stood beside her, his silver eyes bright, his face pale.
She was silent for a long moment. “It’s saying my name.”
“Just your name?”
“No. It’s saying… come.”
Captain Theron ordered the fleet to hold position.
No one would approach the door until they understood more. No one would risk contact until they knew what they were facing.
Mira argued.
“I need to get closer,” she said.
“Absolutely not.”
“The door is calling me. The song is calling me. The hunger is calling me.”
“That’s exactly why you need to stay here.”
“If I don’t go, no one will. And the door will remain open. The song will spread. The hunger will grow.”
Theron was silent for a long moment. His gray eyes were hard, his jaw was tight, his hands were clenched. He had lost too many people to the song. He would not lose her.
“There has to be another way.”
“There is always another way. But it requires a sacrifice you are not ready to make.”
“What sacrifice?”
She looked at him. “Letting me go.”
Elara volunteered to accompany her.
The second dreamer had been through the door before. She knew what waited on the other side. She knew the risks. She knew the cost.
“I can protect her,” Elara said.
“You can’t even protect yourself,” Jax replied.
“I can protect her from the song. I can protect her from the hunger. I can protect her from the door.”
“How?”
Elara touched her chest. Above her heart. “Because I am already part of it. The song is inside me. The hunger is inside me. The door is inside me. I am the key.”
The shuttle detached from the Odyssey and drifted toward the door.
Mira sat in the cockpit, her hands steady on the controls, her silver eyes fixed on the growing light. Elara sat beside her, her white hair floating in a wind that did not exist, her bare feet cold on the metal floor.
The door grew larger.
The song grew louder.
The hunger grew stronger.
“Are you afraid?” Elara asked.
“Terrified.”
“Good. Fear will keep you alive.”
The shuttle crossed the threshold.
The light consumed them.
The song swallowed them.
The hunger embraced them.
Mira closed her eyes.
She let go.