Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
ELAINA
The ship purred beneath her feet, vibrations resonating through the floor and into her bones. Elaina sat rigid in the co-pilot seat, her hands clenched into fists. She kept her fingers far from the controls, unwilling to risk even the slightest touch.
Cyan glanced over at her from the other side, assessing and unreadable.
“Just stay still”, he said. “We’ll get through this.”
No one else’s reassurance could have helped in that moment, but with him… some of the tension inside her unwound. He had that effect.
Elaina’s fingers twitched with diagnostic instinct to help, to adjust the readings on the console and make herself useful. But she wouldn’t risk it. Not now.
She shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the strap of her security harness. The cockpit felt so fragile in the face of what they were about to confront. The wormhole loomed ahead, a swirling black and blue maw ready to devour them.
It’s beautiful and terrifying .
She looked over at Cyan. “Do you think the ship will hold? ”
He didn’t answer immediately. His focus remained on the console, his gloved hands moving with the precision of someone who had done this countless times. At last, he looked over at her, a soothing warmth in his eyes. “It’ll hold. Trust me.”
And Elaina did—trust him, that is.
They both knew how fragile the ship was—a century-old Gaian vessel, the same one Cyan had first arrived on. Its systems were polished up and patched by Tuskin himself. Retrofitted with brand new equipment and sensors, it stood a good chance to make the journey through the wormhole.
There was just one problem—Elaina was in it. Now, as they approached the gravitational chaos of the wormhole, the risk was greater than ever, made worse by the destructive force she carried.
Cyan might not make it because of her.
“I should have stayed behind,” the whisper escaped before she could stop it.
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m just—” She pressed her lips together, cutting off the rest of her thought, but it lingered in the air. She wasn’t supposed to be here, putting him and Priad in danger just to get her away. What if she wreaked havoc on Gaia too? What if this would follow her forever? Were they just going to hide out in some Gaian jungle and avoid all technology to prevent her from breaking things like a hapless child?
“Elaina, look at me.” Her eyes snapped to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
As the ship shuddered beneath them, that assurance felt like the only thing keeping them from coming apart at the seams.
The swirling wormhole filled the viewport all at once, stretching out like an endless void .
Elaina gasped as the ship lurched forward, the thrusters roaring in protest.
“We’re going in,” Cyan said.
The ship groaned, buckling as the gravitational forces wrapped around them, squeezing tight. The pressure in the cockpit grew, bearing down on her chest, pushing the breath from her lungs. Her ears popped, her vision blurred, and a screaming kaleidoscope of warning lights strobed across the console.
Cyan’s fingers flew over the controls, adjusting their trajectory with practiced gestures. “Hold on. This is going to get worse before it gets better…”
Elaina clenched her teeth, her nails biting into her palms. She wanted to reach out and do something—anything—to fight against the crushing force pressing in on them. But she couldn’t. If she touched anything, she might kill them both.
She squeezed her eyes shut instead, fighting to breathe.
“Almost there…” Cyan’s voice cut through the cacophony, a steady line in the chaos.
Elaina blinked against the blinding blue brightness of the wormhole’s core. The light grew, swelling until it consumed everything—and then, in an instant, there was silence.
The roar of the engines died, replaced by an eerie, unnatural stillness. The ship drifted into calm space, stars sprawling before them, untouched in the infinite.
Elaina released a taut breath. They had made it. They were through.
But her relief was fleeting. She turned to Cyan and his expression was hard, his jaw tight.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Cyan’s gaze dropped to the console, where a single red light screamed with an urgent blink. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he muttered. “There’s still something ahead.”
Elaina leaned forward, peering out the viewport. The empty stretch of space looked deceptively serene, but something was off. She squirmed into the nothingness.
There was a darkness, deeper than the void. Black as the black all around and yet a presence so distinct, breathing in the distance—waiting for them. It morphed and twisted, and as she followed its invisible edges by feel alone the horror of its proximity set in, for its claws were right there, reaching right for them. Dread turned her stomach.
“What is that?” she gasped, a cold so strong settling over her that her breath fogged and her teeth began to chatter.
Cyan didn’t answer immediately. His grip on the controls tightened, his knuckles whitening. “That’s the thing we need to avoid. The thing that wants you more than anything in this world.”
Before Elaina could respond or keep staring into the abyss, it disappeared, leaving nothing but the blackness of space behind it.
“Where did it go?”
Cyan shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The reality of their mission surged over her with icy clarity. This wasn’t just about escaping the Architect’s grasp or finding safety on Gaia. There was something bigger at play—something out there, lurking, threatening everything they knew.
They were running, but running wasn’t enough.
“We need to find a way to stop this,” Elaina said, staring straight ahead out of the viewport. When she turned to Cyan, he was looking back at her. “Together.”