Kai stared at the dimly lit screens, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the keyboard. The lab was cold, and the stale air carried the mingled scents of metal, spilled coffee, and an underlying tang of desperation. Around him, the faint hum of worn-out equipment competed with the muffled voices of his team. There were no high-tech security systems, no pristine machinery. Leafheim, the capital of Ecalia, was a city that had learned to make do with less. Nestled between larger, more powerful nations, Ecalia had never been able to afford luxuries—least of all in its research facilities. And now, with the shadow of the Imperium looming closer, the ramshackle lab had become their last hope.
His team of scientists, engineers, and mathematicians worked tirelessly, their faces pale and etched with exhaustion. Dark circles under their eyes told of sleepless nights, but their resolve never wavered. The lab’s conditions were appalling—no protective gear, no backup funding, not even a semblance of safety protocols. Yet, no one cared. Their lives were expendable compared to the survival of their country, their families, and their ideals. They didn’t talk about dying. They didn’t need to. Every glance exchanged was filled with a silent understanding: they were racing against time, and the finish line might mean the end of them all.
Kai grew up in Leafheim, an orphan raised by the city that had been his cradle and his battlefield. His parents had died in an attack by the Imperium when he was only three years old—a tragic but all-too-common story in this city. He should have died that day, too, but Peter, a scientist and family friend, had saved him. Peter had not only pulled him from the rubble but also raised him, taught him, and given him purpose. Everything Kai knew about science, everything that kept him going now, was because of Peter’s guidance.
“We’re running out of time,” Kai muttered under his breath, his eyes darting between simulations, formulas, and diagrams splashed across the cracked monitors. He ran a hand through his hair, damp with sweat despite the icy chill in the air. The data in front of him only underscored the hopelessness of their situation. The Imperium’s technology defied the very principles of physics and warfare that Ecalia understood. Their weapons were otherworldly, their tactics ruthless and efficient. Compared to them, Ecalia was a child wielding a wooden stick against a war machine.
And yet, somehow, Ecalia endured.
No one fully understood how the small, stubborn nation had managed to remain independent for over a century. Wars between Ecalia and the Imperium came in waves, relentless and bloody, yet they always ended in stalemates. Some called it pride; others called it foolishness. But to the people of Leafheim, their city wasn’t just a home. It was a symbol—a gateway to the continent, the last bastion of freedom that kept the Imperium from complete domination, since Ecalia was the entry for the Imperium to the whole continent, the Imperium could not get a grip of.
Kai clenched his jaw, shaking off his doubts. They couldn’t afford hesitation. He glanced at a pile of crumpled papers beside him, all covered in notes and scribbles. Among them was Peter’s latest set of equations and ideas—sent to Kai just yesterday, as if his mentor had anticipated the urgency of the situation. The concept was absurd, borderline impossible, if Kai wasn’t in such a hurry he would have called it insane. It sounded like science fiction. But Peter had a way of seeing solutions where others saw only barriers.
“How did he even think of this?” Kai whispered, tapping the page as though willing it to give him answers. Peter’s mind had always been a mystery to him—brilliant, unpredictable, and tireless. Even with his many other responsibilities, he somehow found the time to tackle problems that seemed unsolvable.
A tremor shook the lab, jolting Kai from his thoughts. The sirens blared, their mournful wail piercing the air. A glass of water toppled off his desk, shattering on the floor as the first bomb fell. The Imperium was attacking again.
“Damn it,” Kai hissed, his heart pounding. Around him, his team scrambled to secure what little they could. The walls groaned under the pressure of the shockwaves, and dust rained down from the ceiling.
This was it. The moment they had all feared yet knew would come. Their city was running out of time, and so were they.
He turned back to the screens, his mind racing. The portal was their only chance. If they could stabilize it, if they could create even a small window into this dimension, they might find something—resources, technology, or even allies—that could turn the tide of the war. It was a long shot, but it was all they had left.
“Kai!” Marvin, his assistant, shouted from across the room. His voice was barely audible over the chaos. “It’s ready! The energy levels are stabilizing!”
Kai’s breath caught in his throat. He pushed through the debris-strewn lab to Marvin’s side, where a small, crude device hummed with a strange, unnatural light. The readings on the monitors beside it were fluctuating wildly but within the thresholds they had calculated.
“Are you sure?” Kai asked, his voice trembling.
Marvin nodded, sweat dripping down his face. “As sure as I’ll ever be.”
Marvin was a genius, no doubt about it, but his brilliance came with an edge of recklessness that often left the team on edge. Kai watched him now, sweat-drenched and hunched over the controls, his hands moving with a precision that belied the chaos around them. It wasn’t the first time Marvin had put everything on the line for their work. The scars on his hands told the story well enough.
The last time they tried to open the portal, the energy surge had been catastrophic. The explosion had ripped through the lab, shattering equipment and nearly taking Marvin’s life. He had been thrown against a wall, his right hand mangled in the blast. Two fingers lost, the others barely functional for weeks. Most would have given up after that. Most would have walked away, called the project a lost cause, and saved what little sanity they had left.
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But not Marvin. He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. The moment he was back on his feet, he was in the lab again, refining equations and tweaking designs with a grim determination that both inspired and terrified the rest of the team.
Kai had always admired that about him—his refusal to let doubt creep in, his single-minded focus on the goal, no matter the cost. It wasn’t that Marvin was fearless; he felt fear as much as anyone. But he had a way of shoving it aside, of pressing forward as though failure simply wasn’t an option.
Kai envied that certainty. He wished he could silence the voice in his own head that constantly questioned, doubted, analyzed every decision into paralysis. Marvin’s clarity, his unwavering belief in what they were doing, was what kept the team going.
“Are you REALLY sure about this?” Kai asked, his voice low but steady.
Marvin glanced up, his expression almost incredulous. “Sure? Of course not. But when has that ever stopped us?” He flashed a lopsided grin, the kind that masked the pain he carried but also somehow gave everyone else a shred of hope.
Kai couldn’t help but smile back, despite the tight knot of fear in his chest. Marvin’s optimism was contagious, even when the odds were stacked against them.
“This time will be different,” Marvin added, his tone softening. “I’ve double-checked everything. The containment field is stable. We’ve learned from the last attempt. We have to do this, Kai. We don’t have a choice.”
Kai nodded, swallowing hard as he glanced at the swirling energy on the monitor. He wanted to believe Marvin, to trust that this time they’d get it right. But the memories of that last explosion were still fresh—the acrid smell of burning wires, the screams, the blood.
Marvin noticed his hesitation and clapped him on the shoulder with his scarred hand. “Hey, if I’m not scared, you don’t get to be, either. Got it?”
Kai chuckled despite himself, nodding again. “Got it.”
Marvin turned back to the controls, his focus razor-sharp. The rest of the team fell into place around them, bracing for what was to come.
Kai’s gaze lingered on Marvin for a moment longer. He didn’t just admire the man’s courage; he depended on it. In a world where doubt and fear were constant companions, Marvin’s unshakable resolve was the anchor that kept them all from drifting into despair.
Another bomb dropped. They were coming closer. Kai hesitated for only a second before flipping the final switch. The machine roared to life, emitting a blinding pulse of light that illuminated the lab like a second sun. The air seemed to vibrate, charged with an energy that was both exhilarating and terrifying. The process needed so much energy that often when they tried these experiments the complete city was going dark. But the people of Leafheim didn’t mind they just wanted to be saved no matter the cost.
Then, before their eyes, the portal opened—a swirling, shimmering red void that defied description.
For a moment, no one spoke. No one moved. They simply stared, their breath stolen by the impossible sight before them.
Kai took a step closer, his mind racing with questions. What lay on the other side? Salvation? Destruction?
Behind him, the sirens wailed on, a grim reminder that their time was almost up.
They had one chance. One slim, desperate chance to change everything.
And Kai was determined to take it.
Before Kai could react, Marvin moved closer to the portal. His movements were steady, almost deliberate, as though the swirling vortex of energy called to him in a way no one else could understand.
“Marvin, wait!” Kai shouted, his voice cracking with panic. “We haven’t tested it! You don’t know what’s on the other side!”
But Marvin didn’t pause. Without hesitation, he stepped into the portal. The swirling energy crackled around him, and within seconds, he was gone.
It was foolish—insane, even. Without proper testing, the portal was as likely to disintegrate anything that entered as it was to transport them somewhere. Kai’s stomach dropped as he stared at the spot where Marvin had vanished. The rest of the team stood frozen, their faces pale and their breaths shallow.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then Tim, standing at the energy console, broke it. “Kai, we don’t have much power left to hold it open. What do we do?” His voice trembled, barely audible over the hum of the failing equipment.
Kai’s mind raced, but before he could answer, the air in the lab shifted. A low, guttural sound, like the growl of some distant beast, reverberated from the portal.
And then Marvin stepped out.
Relief surged through Kai, his heart pounding in his chest. "Thank god," he whispered under his breath. Marvin was alive.
But something was wrong.
Marvin looked different—his movements were sharper, more deliberate, as though he wasn’t entirely himself. His blue eyes, which had always carried a spark of curiosity and wit, were now a deep, unnatural red. Not the bloodshot red of exhaustion, but a complete transformation of color. They glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire, and they locked onto Kai with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
“Marvin?” Kai ventured, his voice unsteady.
Marvin didn’t answer. His posture was rigid, predatory, his gaze fixed on Kai like a predator sizing up its prey.
“What the hell happened in there?” Tim whispered, stepping closer to Kai.
The lab’s tension was shattered by a deafening explosion. The entire building shook violently as a bomb detonated nearby, the shockwave throwing everyone off their feet. Alarms blared, and the lights flickered as debris rained down from the ceiling.
The portal, still unstable and overcharged, began to spin out of control. Sparks flew as the containment field collapsed, and a high-pitched whine grew louder and louder, threatening to split their eardrums.
“Get down!” someone screamed, but Kai barely heard it. His eyes remained fixed on Marvin, whose expression had twisted into something inhuman—a mixture of rage and something far darker.
Before Kai could make sense of it, the portal exploded. The blast was blinding, a rush of heat and force that obliterated the machinery and threw Kai across the room.
He felt a searing pain as a piece of equipment struck him, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Darkness closed in, and the last thing he saw before everything went black was Marvin, standing unnervingly still amid the chaos, his glowing red eyes the only thing visible through the haze of smoke and fire.