The Frontier crew gathered in the briefing chamber in Main HQ of Relinom, their steps echoing against the smooth metallic walls. Ryan stood with his crewmates, all of them still clad in their lightweight spacesuits, their visors retracted but their breathing apparatuses and protective seals in place. Despite having been stationed in Relinom for months, none of them felt comfortable stepping out of the suits except when onboard the Frontier. It was a constant reminder that, no matter how much they adapted to this alien universe, they were far from home.
At the center of the chamber, the spokesperson they had met during their first debrief stood waiting. Dressed in the sleek, dark uniform of the organization, the spokesperson’s demeanor was as enigmatic as ever. They gestured for the crew to assemble, their voice calm but commanding.
As the crew took their positions, the spokesperson surveyed them with a faint smile. "Why," they began, their tone carrying a hint of curiosity, "are you still wearing your spacesuits everywhere you go? Surely, by now, you’ve realized our environment is safe for biological beings."
The crew exchanged glances, hesitant to respond. Finally, Harper, the Frontier’s medic, stepped forward. “With all due respect, we’re still unsure. This isn’t our galaxy, and while the scans we’ve conducted suggest the environment is benign, we can’t rule out long-term side effects. For all we know, there could be microscopic agents here that our instruments can’t detect.”
Liam, the ship’s Science Officer, nodded in agreement. “We’ve already been exposed to enough unknown factors, particularly the chaos—what you call the anomaly. Until we’re certain there’s no residual contamination or latent effects, we’d rather not take unnecessary risks.”
The spokesperson tilted their head slightly, their expression unreadable. “Prudent, I suppose,” they said after a pause. “But let’s move on. Your attire isn’t why I’ve called you here.”
The room fell silent as the spokesperson activated a holographic display, the image of a swirling, chaotic maelstrom appearing above the central console. The pattern was eerily familiar to the crew, its erratic pulses and spiraling tendrils reminiscent of the Infinitum chaos that had pulled them into this universe.
“We call this phenomenon Erebus Anomaly,” the spokesperson began, their voice carrying a weight of seriousness. “It’s a force that defies conventional understanding, a cosmic event that disrupts the fabric of reality itself. Our scientists believe it is the same force that caused your ship, the Frontier, to appear in our sector.”
Ryan’s pulse quickened as he studied the hologram. The swirling anomaly felt like a specter from his nightmares, its movements chaotic yet oddly purposeful. He glanced at Keira, who gave him a grim nod, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
The spokesperson continued. “Our organization has been studying the Erebus Anomaly for centuries, but recent events have brought new urgency to our efforts. The anomaly has been appearing with greater frequency and intensity, affecting more sectors than ever before. We are working tirelessly to understand its nature, its origins, and—if possible—how to counteract it.”
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Their gaze swept over the Frontier crew. “Your team has a unique perspective. You’ve come into direct contact with the anomaly and survived. That alone makes you valuable to our efforts. We want to bring some of you onboard our research teams to provide insight and assistance. Your experiences could be the key to unlocking the anomaly’s secrets.”
The crew exchanged uneasy glances. None of them trusted the spokesperson entirely, but the offer was too important to dismiss outright. If working with this organization meant gaining more knowledge about the Erebus Anomaly—or perhaps even finding a way back to their own universe—it was a risk worth taking.
“We’re willing to help,” Captain Dom said, stepping forward to represent his crew. “But we need to be clear—this anomaly, it’s not just a threat to you. It’s responsible for the destruction of our galaxy’s homeworlds. If there’s even a chance we can stop it or learn to protect ourselves from it, we’re all in.”
The spokesperson inclined their head. “Understood. Your cooperation is appreciated. For now, we’ve selected two members of your crew to join our research teams: Ryan Korrin and Keira Alston.”
Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected to be chosen, but the weight of the task settled on him quickly. Keira, standing beside him, gave a small, resolute nod.
“Why us?” Ryan asked, his voice steady despite the questions racing in his mind.
The spokesperson’s expression remained neutral. “Your records indicate you’ve demonstrated adaptability and resourcefulness under extreme conditions. And your perspectives on the anomaly’s effects—both technical and personal—make you ideal candidates for this mission.”
The spokesperson stepped closer, their voice lowering slightly. “The research facility you’ll be joining is located in a far away galaxy, near Sector KA, at a station designated KA-10. The journey would take decades by conventional travel, but we’ll be using an intra-galactic teleporter to expedite the process. It’s the fastest way to reach the sector. You’ll leave tomorrow.”
Keira raised an eyebrow. “So soon?”
“There’s no time to waste,” the spokesperson replied. “The anomaly’s activity is increasing, and every delay costs us precious opportunities to study it.”
Next day, the Frontier crew gathered to bid farewell to Ryan and Keira. The mood was somber but determined, a reflection of the challenges they all faced.
“Take care of yourselves out there,” Dom said, clasping Ryan’s hand firmly. “And if you find anything—anything at all—that might help us get home, don’t hesitate.”
“We’ll do our best,” Ryan promised, his voice heavy with emotion.
Mila hugged Keira tightly. “You’re braver than I am,” she said with a faint smile.
As the goodbyes continued, Ryan couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. For months, he had felt powerless, adrift in an alien universe with no clear path forward. But now, he had a purpose—a chance to contribute to something larger, to face the chaos head-on and perhaps find a way back to Lumina Prime.
Ryan and Keira stood in the teleporter chamber, their gear packed and their minds racing. The room was bathed in a faint blue glow, the teleporter’s mechanisms humming with restrained energy. The spokesperson stood nearby, their calm demeanor unshaken as they observed the final preparations.
“Remember,” they said, their voice firm, “your insights could make all the difference. Work diligently, and you may uncover answers that have eluded us for centuries.”
Ryan nodded, glancing at Keira. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied with a small smile.
The teleporter activated, its light intensifying as the air around them seemed to ripple and distort. Ryan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey ahead. In that moment, he felt a flicker of hope—fragile but undeniable.
The universe might be vast and incomprehensible, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.