Tayo's breath hung in the air like fog, swirling around him before vanishing into the void. His heart pounded in his chest, but he felt none of the cold or the burning pain from before. Instead, there was a strange stillness—a quiet weight that settled on his skin like a thin sheet of ash. He stood in a world that defied logic.
The first thing he noticed was the sky.
It stretched endlessly above him, a canvas of muted gray-blue, like the storm-heavy sky before a downpour. But it wasn't empty. Colossal planets hovered overhead, suspended in the firmament like ancient sentinels. Some rotated slowly, their surfaces scarred with craters and glowing fault lines. Others loomed so close that he could make out the jagged edges of their canyons. A black hole spun lazily in the distance, a swirling whirlpool of darkness so absolute it seemed to devour the light around it. Strands of ethereal energy spiraled into it like smoke caught in a vacuum.
Meteor showers streaked across the sky, brilliant orange and blue trails cutting through the stillness. They burned so vividly that, for a moment, they felt like the only source of color in this world. They fell in slow, deliberate arcs, leaving trails that lingered like the afterimage of a flash. Despite the meteors' destructive potential, their descent was mesmerizing—a display of cosmic art.
Tayo's gaze shifted to his surroundings. Jagged rock formations jutted from the ground like broken teeth. Massive cracks ran through the earth, some so deep that even looking into them made his stomach churn. He spotted what looked like the remains of ancient buildings—pillars toppled sideways, shattered tiles, and crumbling staircases leading to nowhere. The ground itself was uneven, scattered with shards of obsidian-like stone that crunched beneath his bare feet.
Two faint moons hung low on the horizon, casting a dim silver glow over the world. Their light was cold and stark, but enough to see by. Shadows stretched long and thin, moving like living things as the meteors burned above.
He turned slowly, taking it all in. His mind struggled to process it.
'Where am I?'
It wasn't the lab. It wasn't Earth. It was something else entirely.
Then he saw it.
Far in the distance, silhouetted against the gray sky, was a structure that rose out of the ground like a monolith. Its shape was unmistakable—a massive, stepped pyramid with sharp, precise angles. It resembled the Aztec temples he'd seen in history books, but this one was colossal, its peak disappearing into low-hanging clouds. He blinked, sure he'd imagined it, but it remained fixed on the horizon like a monument from another age.
Rumble!
Rumble!!
Rumble!!!
The ground shuddered beneath his feet, sending him stumbling. A low, rumbling groan echoed through the air, the vibration so deep it felt like it was in his bones. His head snapped toward the temple. A beam of pure, searing white light shot from its peak, piercing the sky with such intensity that it split the clouds apart. The clouds swirled violently around the light, forming a twisting vortex that dragged in the ambient mist.
The beam climbed higher and higher, a column of raw energy that made the very air vibrate. It wasn't just light—it was pressure, presence, and power. His knees buckled under its sheer weight.
He felt as though something vast and ancient had just turned its gaze toward him. The meteors in the sky shifted their trajectories as if reacting to the event, their arcs bending unnaturally toward the light.
'What is that?' He thought, eyes locked on the scene before him.
The pillar's brilliance reflected off the craggy ground, making every crack and crevice look deeper and sharper. For a brief, fleeting moment, he felt like something in the temple looked back at him.
Then the ground shook again. But this time, it wasn't from the beam.
No—this sounded like a crash of thunder.
A new light flickered in the sky—a blazing streak of fire. At first, he thought it was just another meteor. It fell slowly, as they always did, its orange glow beautiful against the dark sky. But it didn't disappear. It grew.
Bigger…
Bigger…
Bigger...
Realization struck like a hammer to his chest. It wasn't just a meteor. It was a boulder of fire plummeting straight for him.
"No, no, no!" he gasped, turning on his heel.
His feet dug into the ground, muscles screaming as he sprinted away. The world blurred around him, his breath ragged, heart pounding in his ears.
He didn't look back.
He didn't need to look back.
The sky behind him glowed brighter and brighter until his shadow stretched impossibly long in front of him.
Move… Move… MOVE!!!
The roar of the meteor's descent was deafening, a guttural scream that tore the air apart. The pressure hit him first, and a blast of heat and wind sent him tumbling. He rolled across jagged rocks, skin tearing on the sharp edges. Pain bloomed everywhere, hot and stinging. He tried to get up, but it was too late.
The world exploded.
A flash of light consumed everything. The shockwave hit him like a wrecking ball, throwing him backward as a cloud of dust and debris swept over him. The air became a suffocating wall of grit. He hit the ground hard, his head snapping against the stone. Everything spun as his senses were overwhelmed by noise, force, and pain.
The light faded. The rumbling subsided. Silence returned, save for the soft tinkling of falling ash.
Darkness once again claimed him.
…
…
He awoke to hunger.
When was the last time he felt this kind of hunger? It was like he had not eaten for days. Horrible as the torture was, he had not felt hunger once during the month he had spent in captivity. The nutrient solutions were just enough to abate his hunger.
His eyes opened slowly, blurred vision sharpening with each blink. His body was weightless, yet he was moving. No—floating. He felt the pull of something below him, something warm, something familiar.
Then he saw it.
It was a body.
It belonged to one of the guards who brought him from his cell.
He lay slumped on the ground. The mask still covered most of his face, but his eyes were clear to see. The look in them was nothing like he had seen before.
Fear…
It was at this moment that he realized he could not control his body.
'What... what is this?' Panic gripped him.
He thrashed, willing himself to move, to return, but he couldn't. His formless hands reached for the body below, but instead of touching it, something else happened.
Energy.
It was a deep craving that promised to abate his hunger, and the moment he touched the body, he felt bliss.
The energy surged into him like a tide, slow at first, then faster—stronger. It wasn't gentle; it was a ravenous flood, pouring into every inch of his being. His mind buzzed with raw sensation, his thoughts snapping into focus as the warmth spread through him. His limbs grew solid, his breath returned, and the fog in his mind lifted.
He stumbled back, gasping for air he didn't realize he needed. Fingers flexed, tingling with renewed sensation. His eyes darted down to the floor. The guard lay sprawled below him, eyes hollow, skin sagging like wax melting off a candle. The man twitched once, a shallow gasp escaping his lips, then went still.
Tayo's breath hitched. He took a step back, his heart racing. His gaze darted from his own hands to the withered guard below him.
'I just…'
His chest rose and fell, the steady rhythm of breathing more grounding than he'd ever realized. His pulse throbbed in his ears, drowning out the stillness of the wrecked lab. Machines flickered weakly, sparks dancing off exposed wires. The drowning pod he'd been in was shattered, fluid pooling around its base. Shards of broken glass crunched underfoot as he shifted his weight.
He glanced down at the guard again. Sunken eyes stared into nothingness, the color drained from his face, his once-bulky frame now gaunt and hollow. He looked just like the other guards littered around the lab.
The sight twisted something deep in Tayo's stomach.
'What have I done?'
He backed toward the hallway, his eyes darting around for any sign of movement. Then he stopped.
'Zion.'
The boy's face flashed in his mind—small, frail, his eyes dull with quiet suffering.
Whatever this situation was, this was a chance to escape. His thoughts pushed him to run immediately.
'Bringing the boy will slow you down. You might even get caught.' His thoughts appeared loud and clear.
"No." His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible. "No, I'm not leaving him."
He turned, following the faint path he remembered.
He reached the cells, eyes scanning the doors around. Then he saw him—huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees. The cells were easy to find. They were laid out like an exhibition cage.
"Zion," Tayo's voice was firm but soft. "We're getting out."
Zion's eyes lifted slowly, wide with disbelief.
Tayo's gaze was fierce, his hands gripping the bars like they were paper. "Now."
But the boy did not move. His eyes showed suspicion like Tayo was a figment of his imagination.
"I promised they wouldn't get us like that, remember?" Tayo entered the cell and carried the boy, giving him no time to argue or resist.
Then he ran.
So far, it seemed something happened that caused the guards to leave, but they were now returning and this showed by the storm of alarms that chased them as they ran.
But Tayo didn't look back. Bursting out of the facility, the moon shone a bright red. In its light, he saw the edge of the cliff that loomed ahead.
'Jump,' the thoughts came again.
He looked behind him to see some of the guards already charging their energy weapons and so he jumped.