"Well, here we go again," said Grandma Shay.
"Mitch, Uncle Ted, Det. Ques, and Det. Prose come forward. Mitch, give Susie and Mary crash training on using the UTC Rod. I've got the Master Rod. Everyone else, you know the drill. Hurry, downstairs now!"
Three minutes later, all five of them marched outside and took their positions defending the farmhouse and everyone in it.
The air shimmered as the teleportation field dissolved, leaving Shay, Alena, Marcus, and Drake standing on solid ground. They took a moment to steady themselves, their senses bombarded by subtle but unsettling differences.
The sky above them was a soft green hue, streaked with translucent clouds that seemed to ripple. The air felt lighter, leaving their steps awkwardly buoyant, as if the ground pushed back with less force.
A faint hum of an unknown energy resonated, just enough to make the hair on the back of Shay's neck stand up, and their movements felt subtly disconnected, as though gravity was teasing them with freedom it wouldn't quite grant.
"This place… it's like Earth, but it's not," said Shay, her notebook already in hand. She scribbled quick observations about the environment: green sky, lighter gravity, omnipresent hum. Her abstract mind was firing connections she couldn't quite articulate yet, but she knew they would matter later.
"Stay focused," said Drake, scanning their surroundings with precision. His voice carried a calm authority, but Shay could see the tension in his stance. "This isn't our turf, and we're already being watched."
"Watched?" asked Alena, glancing around.
Marcus pointed toward a cluster of radio towers in the distance. They looked archaic, like something from a forgotten era, but the signals they emitted pulsed with eerie regularity.
"Those towers," said Marcus. "They're more than they seem. We need to move."
"Let's stick to the plan. Low profile until we know what we're dealing with," said Drake.
As they moved through the unfamiliar streets, they noticed the analog-driven infrastructure. It was as though the world had rejected digital progress, relying instead on mechanical systems that seemed alive. A nearby kiosk came alive with heavy static before broadcasting a distorted message:
"Warning. Dimensional Intruders detected. Report sightings immediately."
"That's us," whispered Alena.
"We've been flagged already," said Marcus. "They'll come looking."
Shay paused at the kiosk with her notebook open. The cryptic signals from the radio towers and the warnings on the screen all connected. She just needed to figure out how.
"We need to move," said Drake.
They turned into a narrow alley, the walls on either side covered in faded posters and cryptic graffiti. The hum in the air grew louder, almost rhythmic, as if following their movements.
"Why does it feel like this place is alive?" muttered Alena.
"It's not alive," said Shay. "It's watching."
Before anyone could respond, a voice spoke, "I've been waiting for you."
The team froze as someone moved into the dim light. She moved with purpose, her gaze sharp and assessing. It was Shay—or rather, an alternate version of her.
"Welcome to Htrae," said Shay2, her tone calm but laced with an edge. "We need to talk."
Back at the farmhouse command room buzzed with quiet urgency. The Galiexian projection hung in midair, casting a faint blue light over the faces gathered around the table. Grandma Shay stood at the head of the table and her presence steady as the chaos outside echoed faintly through the reinforced walls.
"Let's cut to it," said Grandma Shay. "We've intercepted new intel. John Force isn't just acting alone. He has a direct line to an alien entity. The Galiexians confirmed it this morning."
"What kind of entity are we talking about? A new species?" asked Grandpa Mitch.
"Not new. Just previously unknown to us," said Grandma Shay, pointing to the hologram. A diagram of a sleek, elongated alien figure appeared with its features indistinct but humanoid.
"They call themselves Masksilians. They are masters of deception and manipulation," said Grandma Shay, her voice edged with distaste.
"Ho do they do that?" asked Billy.
"Years ago, the Galiexians discovered they orchestrated the collapse of an entire colony by manipulating and deception, causing distrust that eventually lead to destruction. They're called Masks because it fits. No one ever sees their real face until it's too late," said Grandma Shay.
"Decades?" asked Aunt Martha. "Why are we only finding out about them now?"
Grandma Shay's expression didn't waver. "Because they're good at what they do. They use people like Force to keep their hands clean while pulling the strings."
"And Milly Turner?" asked Uncle Ted. "She's part of this, isn't she?"
Grandma Shay nodded. "More than part of it. She's devious. Her job wasn't just to spy on Edwin. She's been gathering data on all of us. Every move we've made, every strategy we've discussed; it's all been funneled back to Force and, by extension, the Masks."
The weight of her words settled heavily over the room.
"So, what's the next step?" asked Detective Ques, seated next to her partner, Mary Prose. "Do we take her out?"
"No," said Grandpa Mitch. "We don't move until we know exactly what she's after. Force is just a piece of this. If we tip our hand too early, we'll lose our chance to take down the entire operation."
Grandma Shay glanced at Mitch. "I agree. But we can't sit idle either. The Galiexians used a warehouse on the outskirts of town, one Force and Milly may have used as a base. We need to investigate."
"Susie and I can handle it," said Det. Prose.
"No," said Grandma Shay. "You're staying here. We need your expertise for the next stage. We'll send a reconnaissance team."
The tension in the room spiked.
"What about the equipment we pulled from the last raid?" asked Aunt Martha. "The dimensional blueprints? We haven't deciphered half of it," said Uncle Ted.
"We'll get to it," said Grandma Shay. "But right now, the focus is containment. If they break through to Htrae, we'll be fighting a war on two fronts."
"Force isn't just a pawn anymore. He's positioned himself to much worse. He's the face of this, but the Masks are the ones playing the game. And they're playing to win," said Grandpa Mitch.
"We're out of time to debate. If this warehouse is a base, it could be our last chance to shut this down before they escalate. I say we send a team tonight," said Aunt Martha.
"No," said Grandma Shay again, her tone final. "We move tomorrow. For now, we regroup, reassess, and prepare for whatever comes next."
As the meeting ended, the team filed out one by one, their thoughts heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. Mitch stay behind gazing at the fixed hologram of the Masksilians.
Grandpa Mitch gazed at Grandma Shay. "Do you think they're ready for what's coming?"
Grandma Shay didn't answer immediately. Her gaze followed his, locking onto the alien figure in the projection.
"They have to be," she said. "Because if they're not, none of us will make it out of this."
Far away, on the other side of dimensions, the Earth team's mission was just beginning, their arrival on Htrae a silent ripple in a storm yet to come.
The underground hideout was dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves of analog equipment and faded maps. The air was dense, carrying the faint smell of old machinery. Shay and her team stepped into the command room, their presence immediately drawing sharp stares from everyone in the room.
At the center of the space stood Shay2, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. She exuded a self-assured commanding presence. Derek2 stood beside her, his sharp gaze sizing up his counterpart. Alena2 lingered near a table covered in schematics, her movements slow and deliberate. Near the back, Marcus2 leaned against the wall, his posture casual but his eyes alert, like a predator sizing up new prey.
"So," said Shay2, "the famous Earth team finally arrives. I'd say we've been expecting you, but… we weren't sure you'd make it this far."
Shay moved forward, meeting her counterpart's eyes with a steady gaze. "We didn't come this far to stop now. We're here to help."
Shay2 let out a short, humorless laugh. "Help? That's a generous offer coming from strangers who have no idea what they're walking into."
Drake moved to Shay's side, his presence a silent but strong reassurance. "We're not strangers," said Drake, his voice calm but firm. "We're you."
"If you're us, then you'd know better than to trust anyone who walks into your base uninvited," said Drake2.
Marcus's eyes locked onto his counterpart. "We're not here to argue. We're here because the Masks are a threat to both our worlds. We can either work together, or we can stand here debating until it's too late."
Marcus2 stepped closer to Marcus, his eyes focused only at him. "And how do we know you're not spies? Or worse, Masksilian puppets sent to destroy what's left of our resistance?"
Shay raised her hand, signaling for Marcus to step back. She turned her attention to Shay2. "You don't know. And we can't prove it yet. But if we were here to sabotage you, wouldn't we have done it by now?"
Shay2 studied her, her expression shifting as she weighed Shay's words. "You talk a good game. But words aren't enough."
"Then let's prove it," said Shay. "We didn't come here to take over your fight. We came to help you win it."
The room fell into a tense silence, the two groups locked in a silent battle of wills. Shay2 motioned toward the schematics on the table.
"Fine. We'll hear you out. But if you step out of line, even once…"
"We won't," said Shay, her voice steady.
Shay2 didn't respond. Instead, she exchanged a glance with Drake2, who gave a slight nod. It wasn't trust, but it was a start.
As the Earth team approached the table, Alena2 spoke for the first time, her tone skeptical but curious. "If you're really here to help, then maybe you can explain why the Masks have ramped up their attacks in the last week. They're getting more aggressive, more coordinated."
Shay glanced at Marcus, then at Alena. "We've seen the same on our side. It's not just aggression, it's strategy. They're consolidating their power, trying to cut off resistance before it can gain any momentum."
"And what makes you think you know how to stop them?" asked Marcus2.
"We don't," said Drake. "But we have resources you don't. If we combine forces, we stand a better chance."
Shay2 leaned forward, her hands resting on the table. "Resources don't mean anything if we can't trust the people using them."
"Then give us a chance to earn your trust," said Shay. "Let us prove that we're here to fight the same fight."
The room was silent again, the tension thick enough to cut. "Fine. But don't think for a second that we'll let our guard down."
"We wouldn't expect you to," said Shay.
As the groups began discussing strategy, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that Marcus2 was hiding something. His counterpart's guarded demeanor went beyond caution—it was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy to share.
Meanwhile, Shay's mind raced as she absorbed the details of the resistance's plans. The stakes were higher than she had realized, and the fractured dynamics of their counterparts only added to the complexity.
As the discussion continued, Shay2's words echoed in Shay's mind: "Resources don't mean anything if we can't trust the people using them."
Shay glanced at her team, then at their counterparts. Trust would be the key to their success or their undoing. But something wasn't right.
Marcus2's gaze lingered too long on his Earth counterpart, and Alena2 avoided eye contact.
Shay's unease deepened. I need to think…
Why do I feel on edge? Someone or something is wrong with this picture. What am I not seeing? Concentrate Shay. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel dizzy? Why does my stomach feel queasy, like I'm going to…"