Safehouse, Later that day
Hiroto sat cross-legged on the floor of the empty living room, his back against the wall. The small remote Aiko had taken from Operator 47 rested in his palm. Smooth, cold, seamless—like a relic from some other age. If not for what he had seen it do, he would’ve mistaken it for a credit card.
He glanced up. Across the room, Aiko leaned against Dynamo’s shoulder, her eyes heavy but watchful. Dynamo hadn’t moved from the door all night, yet here she was, upright, steady, protective. Aiko’s trust in her was written all over her body language—too much trust, perhaps, for so short a time. Hiroto frowned. Bonds like that could be a strength. Or weakness.
He cleared his throat.
“Aiko, how did you say you got this to work?”
She blinked and straightened. “I just took it, and it opened.”
“There has to be something else at play here.” Hiroto rotated the device in his hands. “I’ve been examining this thing for hours, and it hasn’t reacted once.”
“Maybe it won’t work for you,” Dynamo said.
Before Hiroto could respond, Chester padded forward. The ferret sniffed at the strange metal, whiskers twitching. As he leaned close, the device pulsed red.
“Chester, get away from that thing,” Dynamo said sharply.
“Fascinating,” Hiroto murmured, eyes narrowing. “The animal has triggered a reaction.” He lifted the device—
The floor rippled. A black portal bloomed just below Hiroto’s position, yawning wide like the mouth of some vast beast.
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Hiroto’s legs slipped through first. He shouted, arms clawing for purchase. The sound of his scream sliced straight through Aiko, like someone was cutting her open from the inside.
“Get him!” she cried.
She grabbed one arm, Dynamo the other, and together they dragged him back. The portal snapped shut the moment they pulled him free. But Hiroto’s legs—
Aiko recoiled in horror. Lacerations striped his flesh, and a shuriken jutted from his right leg like it had been launched through the void itself.
“Argh! We need to stop the bleeding,” Hiroto gasped.
Aiko ripped off her headband and tied it tight above the wound. Her fingers were trembling.
“This is going to hurt,” Dynamo warned, voice grim. She yanked the shuriken free.
Hiroto screamed—raw, jagged, the kind of sound that made Aiko’s heart clench. Dynamo dropped the weapon instantly, hissing.
“Ow! What the fuck?” She clutched her palm. Blisters bubbled across her skin where the metal had touched.
“What madness is this?” Hiroto gasped.
“I think you just crossed over, uncle,” Aiko said, her voice shaking.
“Into what?”
“I… saw something,” Aiko whispered, her eyes distant. “When you slipped through—I caught a glimpse. It looked like the city, but everything felt wrong. Backward.”
“Whatever it was,” Hiroto groaned, his face pale, “it’s lethal.”
Black veins crawled outward from his wound, branching like roots beneath his skin. His body seized, and then he went limp.
“Is he dead?” Dynamo asked, panic lacing her voice.
Aiko pressed her fingers to his neck. A faint pulse. “No. But he might be soon if we don’t stop this—”
She froze. The corruption was spreading faster, climbing up Hiroto’s chest, searing into his veins.
Dynamo grabbed her arm, urgent. “We need to get him to a hospital.”
“They can’t help him,” Aiko said, voice breaking. Her mind replayed the glimpse of that other place—the diamond patterns, the reversed city. “Whatever did this to him is still over there. Knowing about it… It might be our only chance to save him.”
The light in the room dimmed, sucked into the remote as though the world itself were exhaling. The portal shimmered back into being, flickering through warped textures before settling into a complex diamond lattice.
Aiko looked at Dynamo. Their eyes locked—fear, determination, and something else binding them.
“I’ll go,” Aiko said. And before Dynamo could stop her, she dove into the light.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
