Chapter 94: The Floating Graveyard (Patreon)

“My eye… where is my eye?” Eron choked. Blood filled his mouth. “By all the Winged Ones, I beg you, do not make me look.”

Her bloody fingers pressed hard against his face, forcing his eyelids open. Despite everything, the trauma of having his eye taken out kept him from hearing the music. But when his mind noticed it, it crawled into his ears. It vibrated deep in his skull.

“Aaahhg, that sound!” Eron yelled. “Cover my ears! Please, cover them!”

The Operator ignored his pleas. Eron had her figured out. She was blunt, incredibly creative, and brilliant. Her biggest flaw was her explosive temper. But right now, her silence terrified him.

At least my connection to them is dead. They will be fine… My people will be safe, and I will pay for my sin alone. Please forgive me. I was a fool.

The music intensified. It was a chorus of countless dead voices singing straight to him. The tune was a sick promise, forcing images of exactly what this dimension would do to him into his mind. The music made it clear. Death did not exist here. Anything that arrived alive, and everything that died, simply stayed forever.

Whatever fake bravery he had left evaporated, replaced by pure terror. “Operator, take me out of here with you,” Eron begged. “Just claim me as your property. We used to do that when we had access to an evolution zone, before we were cast out.”

She let go of his face and stepped back a few steps. “It’s too late. You heard the music. You saw them. You’re marked, you fuck.”

Eron screamed, his voice mixed with anger and despair. “THEN YOU ARE MARKED TOO! And the three on the ship! We are all going to suffer together!”

In his panic, a sickening realization hit him. Th… Then, if they were marked and I had brought them aboard the ship… I would have doomed my people as well.

"How blind I was..." he whispered. "How blin..."

My eye, where is my eye?

Eron looked anxiously from side to side, attempting to ignore the giant creature destroying the world. He tried to ignore the agonizing pain in his head from missing Orsa. When he touched his forehead, he felt only an empty hole. I can’t see anything anymore. How do they live with only two eyes? They don’t show the beauty of the shadows.

“Operator!” Eron yelled, his voice trembling. “I know we can both find a way to erase their mark. We can work together. It’s foolish to ignore this.”

"Eron," she replied coldly. "My group and I will be fine. You are exactly where you belong."

He tried to get up, but the injury to his eye left him weak. By the Winged Ones, I have no strength left. If only I could kill her and tear her apart, but my eye… my eye, without it…

Her last words echoed in his panicked mind. Wait… What does she mean by “they are going to be fine”?

A sharp whistle pierced the sky, increasing in volume as it fell toward them. They both looked up, but saw nothing at first. After a brief search, the Operator noticed it first. She stepped back, her gaze fixed on the space just behind Eron.

"N’vaa?" she asked.

A pale hand, wrapped in a ragged red shroud, gradually moved over Eron’s shoulder and rested there.

“Operator, please stay with me. Don’t leave me behind.”

A deep, terrifying voice echoed right next to Eron’s ear, but it was not meant for him. “Twice a catalyst, Operator? You really impress me. Honestly, I was disappointed with your decision, and since killing a catalyst is strictly forbidden, I decided it was better to leave. I often break rules, so avoiding the temptation seemed safer.”

Why is this creature talking to the Operator as if they know each other? Eron’s mind raced as panic welled within him.

N’vaa traced the hole in Eron’s skull where his third eye used to be, examining the torn flesh with morbid curiosity. “And best of all, you brought me a Winged One. We had almost given up hope. We thought they had all slipped away.”

Is this about the test subjects? They were just material, a calculated biological cost to ensure our survival, a tiny fraction of what we normally process. It makes no sense…

"It... it is not fair, Operator,” Eron stammered, his voice trembling with absolute terror. "It was necessary! We saved lives! You have to see that! Those subjects died so my people could live! Please, you cannot leave me here for that!"

The Operator’s gaze stayed ice cold. She did not answer him.

Eron slumped, catching his breath, voice trembling with fear and resignation as he asked, “Why… why can’t you just understand that?”

“Mmmm,” N’vaa murmured. The creature seized Eron’s head in its two enormous hands. “You are not connected to them, and I need you connected.”

The Operator watched the sky as that planetary monster devoured the planet. The ground shattered beneath her, forcing her to drop to her knees.

“Your monster is almost done eating this world!” she shouted, struggling to stand on trembling legs. “That’s my signal. I’m leaving you with Eron. I must find my group.” She hurried toward the crashed ship, the asphalt splitting beneath her boots.

“It is too late for that,” N’vaa said, maintaining perfect calm despite the chaos. “This planet is already lost.”

A deafening, bone-rattling growl burst from N’vaa’s cloaked form. The Operator covered her ears as the sound’s frequency vibrated through her skull. High in the crumbling sky, the Leviathan paused before responding with a roar of similar, terrifying intensity. The two monstrous beings exchanged deafening vibrations, roaring back and forth in what seemed like an impossible, cosmic dialogue.

What the hell? Is N’vaa talking to that thing?

A shockwave of dense red energy erupted from N’vaa’s hand. It expanded at hypersonic speed, ripping through the atmosphere to form a colossal, translucent dome. It stretched as far as the eye could see, swallowing the crashed ship and an endless expanse of the surrounding wasteland beneath a single, massive barrier.

Suddenly, her stomach plunged as a fierce, nauseating wave of vertigo swept over her when the ground gave way beneath her.

Zero gravity? Her mind raced as she desperately tried to anchor herself in scientific reasoning to calm the panic. No, my boots are still planted. The atmospheric pressure inside is stabilizing. We broke off from the planet? This entire dome generates its own gravity field. We’re a floating island.

She dragged herself to the edge of the cracked street. Peering through the translucent red barrier, she glimpsed the actual, mechanical demise of a celestial body.

Below them, the planet’s crust was fracturing. Entire tectonic plates, thousands of miles wide, peeled away as the world's gravitational binding failed. She watched mountain ranges shatter into raw debris before they even cleared the atmosphere.

The lithostatic pressure is gone. The core is exposed. The mantle is undergoing explosive decompression.

Superheated magma rivers erupted from the deep crust. When they reached the vacuum of space, the molten rock didn’t freeze; instead, gases trapped inside expanded rapidly in the absence of atmospheric pressure. This caused the glowing liquid to explode outward, scattering into enormous clouds of jagged ash and pulverized pumice.

Then the Leviathan moved. The colossal creature did not bite but opened a jaw wide enough to span entire continents. A terrifying gravitational vortex formed deep within its abyssal throat as it simply inhaled.

She watched, completely paralyzed, as the world’s fragments, the shattered mantle, the expanding ash, and the storms of ice were dragged straight into the endless dark of its mouth.

It was absolute, catastrophic violence. Jesus Christ, an entire world... just gone.

A sudden, intense wave of fear burst through her chest. She quickly turned around, desperately trying to see through the dust and the ruined roads.

Are they inside the radius? What’s the size of this dome? If they were on the wrong side of the fault line when the ground fractured…

The cosmic static in the air faded. N’vaa turned its hooded head back toward her. “I apologize for the delay, Operator. You can relax now. My barrier also covers your vessel. Your small group is completely safe.”

N’vaa moved slightly closer, obscuring her view of the cosmic graveyard behind it. “Please be patient, and I ask that you stay here. Your presence is crucial.”

“Why is this so important? I thought our deal was done.”

“I will explain shortly. I was speaking with our winged gentleman here, but my friend above kept interrupting us. I had to ask it to spare this specific chunk of earth and leave us in peace so we could finish this.”

N’vaa let out a quiet, almost irritated hum. “It didn’t like that request very much. Unfortunately, I now owe it one.”

The creature set its enormous hands back on Eron’s shoulders. “How does it feel to lack the unique trait that made you a Winged One?”

Eron did not answer. He stayed completely silent, staring at the ground, his hands shaking violently. He was terrified to even look at N’vaa’s face.

“I asked politely,” N’vaa said, before its voice dropped to a bone-rattling roar. “ANSWER ME.”

Eron covered his ears with his hands. The loud, monstrous shout likely reverberated throughout the floating dome. The Operator looked back at the ship, which was far away after their fierce battle with Eron. She also noticed Dan outside, helping Cat to her feet.

Lessa must still be recovering inside. But they are safe. Thank God.

"Everything looks fake," Eron finally answered, trembling as tears spilled from his eyes. "It is like a barrier blocking my vision. I can’t see anything. How can they live without seeing what is hidden?”

The Operator turned to look at Eron's eye, which she had thrown to the ground. Shit. His eye. Me and my fucking temper. Doesn’t matter. I’ll grab the leftovers before I leave.

"Thank you for your honesty," N'vaa said. "Now comes the truly uncomfortable part. You have seen what will happen to you in this place, haven't you?"

Eron nodded slowly. "I have seen it all."

“I have ways to force open the connection you share with your race. You have it closed right now. I understand; you want to protect them. But that connection will be activated, one way or another. I promise you that.

“This is where I make a generous offer, one I rarely extend,” the entity continued. “I promise to spare you the horrors we showed you and the eternity you would spend enduring them. Under one condition, of course.”

“What is the condition?” Eron asked, his gaze still fixed on the ground. He probably already knew what it would be.

“Open your mind and connect with the Winged Ones. Allow us to connect with them through you. We swear nothing will happen to you.” N’vaa looked over at the Operator. “She can testify that we keep our promises. What do you say?”

Eron’s tears kept flowing. He slowly lifted his head to face the cosmic being about to end his race. “If I do it, what will happen to them?”

“We do not know yet. We learned of your kind while passing through your underground facility. It was interesting to observe those experiments.” The creature floated over to where Eron’s crushed third eye lay on the ground. “We are curious about how those eyes taste. If the flavor proves satisfactory, other decisions will be made.”

What is this psychological torture? The Operator wondered, feeling nauseous. This is completely twisted. I need to get out of here.

“N’vaa, I am leaving,” she said, stepping back. “I really don’t see why I am still here. It is clear you have everything under control.”

“You are the Catalyst, Operator,” N’vaa replied. “You forced him to look at us. It’s your responsibility to watch him until the very end. That rule cannot be broken. Therefore, you are staying.”

N’vaa leaned in, lowering its voice to a gentle whisper. “Understand this, Eron. I will secure this connection somehow. The only difference is, if you cooperate, you get to stay alive.”

Eron collapsed as the Operator watched the last vestiges of his defiance vanish. He slumped, lowering his battered head, and began to cry. His tears were not restrained or quiet but loud and uncontrollable, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He looked more like a frightened, helpless child than the monstrous figure she had just battled.

Slowly, N’vaa stepped forward and wrapped its long, shrouded arms around Eron. The cosmic entity drew the weeping man against its chest, gently stroking his head in a sickeningly tender embrace.

“Shhh, it is all right,” N’vaa whispered, comforting him as Eron cried into its cloak. “Everything is fine now. You made an excellent decision.” The creature held him for a moment longer, then spoke softly into his ear. “Now, connect.” 

Eron froze. The reality of betraying his entire race seemed to paralyze him. The Operator watched him squeeze his eyes shut as his body went completely rigid. He wasn’t going to do it.

N’vaa held on firmly as the Operator observed the tall figure tighten its grip. Eron ceased crying, making no attempt to resist or pull away. His eyes remained wide open, staring into nothing, and his body became completely stiff.

She watched in silence. A few seconds passed before Eron let out a violent gasp for air, his chest heaving. Whatever he had just experienced had broken him completely.

N’vaa released the embrace. The Operator watched the tall entity step back, lifting its pale hands to grip both sides of Eron’s head. Eron didn’t resist. His tense posture melted. He slowly closed his eyes and let out a long, defeated sigh. He struggled to speak, tears welling as he said, “I… I will do it.” His voice trembled. “I accept.”

N’vaa slowly withdrew its hands from Eron’s head and whispered, “I have found them.” The previously comforting tone vanished, replaced by a ravenous one. “What an exquisite delicacy.”

It directed its hooded face at the Operator. “Thank you, Operator.”