Locke and Arros could feel rhythmic vibrations in the stone beneath their feet.

  “We're getting close,” Locke said, the sound of his voice being repeated back to him from the tunnel walls. “The readings are getting stronger.“

  Arros nodded, his gaze fixed ahead.

  “Stay focused,” he said quietly. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

  As they descended, Arros's breathing grew labored. “It's hot as hell down here,” he muttered.

  He stumbled, leaning against the wall as his legs wobbled. Locke started moving toward him. “You alright?”

  “I'm good,” Arros said, gesturing him to stop. His face was pale and sweat dripped from his temple. “It's getting harder to breath. We should have brought oxygen with us.“

  The tunnel widened abruptly, opening into a vast chamber.

  The walls were lined with intricate carvings—symbols that shimmered when viewed from the corner of the eye, but still when Locke tried to focus on them. He flinched as a tiny arc of blue light snapped between the carvings.

  “Static discharge,” he muttered, checking the EMF device. “We're pushing the limit of what we can handle.“

  Arros brushed his fingers across carvings. He hissed and pulled back, examining his hand. Locke’s attention was on a console at the center of the chamber. His vision blurred.

  The air around it distorted like heat rising off of pavement. For a brief moment, he thought he saw something—or someone—standing beside it.

  “We can't stay here,” he said. “Let's secure the tunnel. We’ll need the right gear for this.“

  As they proceeded to the exit, a resonant droning stopped them dead in their tracks. It was a sensation that pierced through their skin, vibrating their bones. The carvings on the walls began forming patterns that Locke was certain hadn’t been there moments before.

  “Do you see that?” Locke asked.

  Mere moments after the ground beneath their feet started to tremble, a holographic display projected off of the console. It didn't just show the planet, it displayed a web of channels from the planet's core.

  Locke stared at the display, squinting his eyes.

  “A conduit,” he muttered. “It's tapping directly into the core. That kind of tech—”

  “Doesn't exist,” Arros interjected, slurring slightly. “It looks like it's missing something.“

  He gestured to the flashing red lines and symbols.

  “I’ve never seen that language before, but red?” He glanced at Locke. “Red never means good.”

  The hum peaked, reverberating through the chamber with enough force to make Locke stagger. His EMF device sputtered sparks before dying in his hand.

  Arcs of blue lightning leapt from the carvings to the console and back again, crackling.

  “We need to get out of here,” Locke said.

  His metallic gear rattled violently, and he felt a strange tingling racing across his skin. Their teeth chattered when the chamber's vibarations became more like a perpetual earthquake.

  Arros let out a strangled gasp. His hands clawed at his chest, and his breaths were short panicked bursts.

  “Arros!” Locke shouted, rushing to catch him as his legs buckled.

  Locke gritted his teeth, every muscle straining as he hauled Arros's limp body toward the tunnel. The hum behind them grew louder, as if it were chasing them through the darkness.

  “Commander!” a voice shouted, echoing down the passage.

  Locke squinted ahead to see his team emerging from the shadows, their weapons at the ready.

  “Get over here!” Locke shouted. “We need a stretcher!“

  Two soldiers sprinted forward, carefully lifting Arros onto an improvised stretcher. A medic checked his pulse.

  “A fluctuating field,” he muttered, reaching for the emergency kit.

  The medic fumbled with an AED, the device crackling faintly as he attached the pads to Arros's body.

  “Lets hope this works—clear!“ he shouted. He flinched as sparks leapt from the device.

  Locke thought he saw the carvings ripple in response. A moment passed, then the sound of a steady pulse.

  “We can't stay here,” Locke said. “We need to move up the tunnel.“

  “Copy that,” a squadmate replied, signaling the team to fall back.

  Locke considered the implications of what he and Arros had encountered. It was all a warning that they had scratched the surface of something far more dangerous.

  >>>>>***********************<<<<<

  She charged through the only entrance—a set of double doors that seemed insignificant against the structure's vast scale.

  “Where now,” she muttered.

  Aetherveil paused briefly, quickly looking around. Her eyes locked onto a stairwell.

  “Up—I hope,” she whispered, dashing toward it.

  Just as she reached the stairwell, the ceiling collapsed. Hunks of concrete rained down on her, drowning her in a cloud of dust.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Aetherveil let out a cry as a slab crushed her foot, the crunch barely audible over the cacophony of falling stone. Through the pain, she tried to pushed the slab off. It wouldn't budge.

  “No!“ She screamed.

  Aetherveil rested her head against the cold block. Tears streaked her dirt smeared cheeks as she slowly clawed at the slab, her nails dragging against the course edges.

  She glanced down at her trapped foot, her chest heaving.

  “I don't need it,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. “I can't use it anyways.“

  She yanked at her leg. Her muscles quivered as her foot began to seperate, the flesh tearing from bone. Her screams turned into sobs as she collapsed backward clutching her leg, a dark pool of blood pooling beneath her.

  Aetherveil lay there, trembling. Pain sparked every nerve while she stared at the cavitated ceiling. Forcing herself back up onto her one good foot, she limped toward the stairs. Out of her peripheral, a figure materialized.

  Arcturus.

  “This tower will be your tomb,” he said.

  He seized her, slamming her back against the slab. The impact forced the air out of her lungs. She clawed at his arms desperately as she tried to find air, only for her hands to pass through him as if he were smoke. She tried to speak, but her words were held captive beneath his tightening grip.

  Rebar snaked around her limbs, tethering her to the concrete. Aetherveil struggled against the restraints, but the steel ribs only bit deeper into her skin. He released his grip, gliding backwards toward a pile of rock.

  “Arcturus, you can't stop them!“ She shouted, coughing.

  Arcturus lifted another chunk of rubble, his eyes fixed on her.

  “They'll tear you and the galaxy apart,” Aetherveil said quietly, panting.

  He hurled it toward her, pebbles and dust trailing behind it. The world slowed as the slab descended upon her. Before it struck, everything went black.

  No impact. No pain.

  A voice echoed in the void.

  “Aithreveia.“

  Like a signal reconnecting, she was slammed into another place.

  Aetherveil was standing near a console in the middle of a chamber. A hand grabbed her shoulder from behind.

  “Aithreveia.“

  She spun around. Standing in front of her was the commander from the podium. He stood over her, his orange eyes mirrored hers.

  “You must leave,” he whispered. “If you go now, you can make it home—away from them.“

  Aetherveil stared blankly at him.

  “Not without you,” she replied. “You know what they will do to you.“

  He pressed his head against hers.

  “This is your chance,” he whispered. “Maybe your only chance.“

  She closed her eyes.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Don't make me do this.“

  When she opened them, she felt weightless.

  She was slumped over someone's broad shoulder.

  Aetherveil was being carried through a brightly lit corridor. The grey, metallic bulkhead suggested she was on a ship. The man looked at her and smirked.

  “It worked,” he said. “Sorry to disturb your nap, but you have work to do.“

  Her eyelids felt heavy. She slowly faded back into darkness. A man's monotone digital voice faded into awareness.

  “Course distance seven hundred million light years.“

  Aetherveil was seated in the pilot's chair of a shuttle. Through the canopy, she could see the lush, green surface of Paleon below. The nav console flashed bold red words.

  Plot Failed: Wormhole Travel Unauthorized

  A red beam quietly pierced the atmosphere. From orbit, the energy discharge appeared as a laceration ripping across the planet’s magnetosphere.

  “This can't be happening,” she whispered. The upper atmosphere was brushed with massive auroral bands of green and red.

  “He's still down there. I have to get down there,” she muttered, her chest burning as she mapped a course back to the conduit chamber.

  Arcs of light leapt from pole to pole, forming plasma bridges that collapsed into blinding bursts. Rippling waves of energy stretched outward, faintly glowing blues and whites. From afar, the planet looked like it was encased in a luminous shroud.

  Aetheveil's hands flew instinctively to the controls. The thrusters sputtered and died, throwing her into an uncontrolled spiral. The view outside was a blur of colors and light.

  The shuttle's consoles exploded. Smoke and fire filled the cabin. Alarms screamed briefly before abruptly cutting off as the systems failed.

  Her reflection stared back at her from the cracked canopy.

  “Is this how it ends? After everything?“

  A translucent wave burst from Paleon's atmosphere—cast into the depths of space.

  Aetherveil leaned back in her seat, her body trembling. She closed her eyes as the cabin grew colder. The burning circuits consumed the remaining oxygen, leaving her to suffocate in the darkness.

  Alone.

  Her eyes sprung open after a sharp jerk, her body being thrown forcefully into her harness. She looked toward the front of the shuttle through blurry vision. She squinted her eyes, seeing the large man from the passageway.

  “I'm going down!“ he shouted into comms. “I've lost all engines!“

  He turned briefly, looking back at Aetherveil. “Brace for impact!“

  The air roared through gaping holes in the shuttle's aft section. Outside of the canopy, dunes rose rapidly as they quickly tumbled toward the planet's surface.

  Aetherveil blacked out again as the ground rushed up to meet them.

  A crackling hiss filled the cabin.

  Her eyes darted to the source of the sound as blinding light pierced the smoke filled interior. A section of the ships bulkhead was pushed in with a metallic crash, sending a shudder through the ship.

  Three grey, spindly figures slipped in. Their elongated limbs seemed to stretch further than they should, their heads tilting toward her. They approached Aetherveil quietly. Their dark, mirror like eyes reflected her panicked expression.

  They leaned in closer. So close she could feel the cold air radiating from the skin. Her hands frantically patted around her harness, fumbling for the buckle. With a trembling gasp, she released it, her body floating free of the seat.

  Her brow furrowed, her eyes locking onto the nearest figure. She pushed off the control panel with her legs, her fist aimed at it. All three of them grabbed her before she made contact. Their spindly fingers clamped around her arms and shoulders like cold steel, immobilizing her.

  “Let me go!“ she shouted.

  Her growl turning into strained grunts as she twisted and thrashed against their iron grips. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, the weightless cabin amplifying her helplessness.

  A fourth figure glided silently into view. It held a mask in its skeletal hands, its empty stare fixed on her.

  “No!” Aetherveil screamed, jerking her head back.

  The three figures tightened their grip, forcing her still.

  “Get off me!” she screamed, her voice cracking.

  The fourth being looked at her with some curiousity before pressing the mask firmly over her face. The cold surface clamped down, sealing her screams within. Aetherveil’s chest heaved as her vision began to distort, colors bleeding together into unrecognizable shapes.

  The beings watched silently, their faces devoid of emotion. Their black eyes reflected only her growing terror. She gasped a single, muffled cry before her limbs went limp and the cabin faded into darkness.

  Aetherveil opened her eyes to a pungent odor stinging her nostrils. She caught a glimpse of a figure leaning over her.

  Without hesitation, she threw a punch, her fist connecting with a loud thud. The force sent the man sprawling against the tunnel wall.

  She launched herself off of the makeshift stretcher, her legs shaky but recovering as she stepped back. She stopped as she registered rifles pointed at her.

  “Lower your weapons!“ a voice barked.

  One of the men stepped forward, his hands raised cautiously.

  “Calm down,” he said. “We are all friends here.“

  The tunnel shuddered violently, an explosion rumbling through the ground.

  Aetherveil looked up. She brushed her fingers across her chest, running over the wound Arcturus had left.

  “Not all of us,” she whispered. “Who are you?“

  “I'm Locke,” he replied.

  “That's Big D,” he gestured toward another figure standing nearby—her pilot.

  “Big D?“ Aetherveil said with a snort, the hint of a smile forming. “Which one of you pulled me out?”

  Locke exchanged glances with Big D.

  “That was D,” Locke admitted. “We didn’t have much of a choice. We turned something on down here, and now it’s tearing this world apart.”

  Aetherveil’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the tunnel walls, the realization dawning on her.

  “The conduit,” she said.

  Her gaze snapped back to Locke, leveling her finger toward him. “You activated the conduit.“

  “I didn't activate anything,” he said, stepping toward her. “It activated itself. What do you know about it?“

  “Not as much as I thought,” she said quietly.

  Her thoughts drifted to the commander. She couldn't recall his name, but she could remember how she felt about him.

  “Take me there,” she said, her eyes glistening as a film of tears formed. “We have to use it.“