Lars recalled the previous night. He leaned over his bunk, showing a complicated expression full of many emotions. He usually didn’t like to let his guard down and wear his thoughts on his sleeve but there really was no one other than himself in his unit’s building.

It allowed him to properly consider just what effect murdering Troels and Jensen had on his conscience; as well as the feeling of getting caught—whether his guilt stemmed from the act or the ensuing reprisal.

The conversation with Sgt. Petersen and the strange lady, Rhys Ewyas Pendragon, came to a resolution very quickly. Lars had felt a customary need to spend time mulling over the ultimatum before making peace with his decision, but he found himself answering almost immediately.

In a contrary fashion to the man he was last night, resigning himself to his sentence, something forced him to claw at the opportunity with a powerful, primal desire to survive. It was as if his younger self had spoken to him directly and rightfully scorned him for daring to throw his life away so easily.

At face value, between the two options, it was as if there was only one. When faced with the threat of execution, a request to serve a stranger in a foreign country was far too simple. However, Lars had known Sgt. Petersen for a very long time.

They had a mutual understanding that perhaps even rivalled that of a son and mother. Although, Lars had never known his mother and lacked an understanding of what such a relationship stood for. What he knew extensively, however, was the dynamics between a subordinate and superior. Therefore, he understood the nuance Sgt. Petersen was trying to communicate.

He had mentioned exposure to ‘secrets’ and ‘corruptive ailments’. If he was delving into something beyond his imagination, then the secrets and corruption correspondent to that was more than capable of carrying fates worse than death. Sgt. Petersen was trying to express that the execution was equivalent to a ‘mercy kill’.

Despite understanding that, Lars decided that he wanted to live. He swore to subordinate himself under Lady Rhys and to face whatever trials would become of him as a consequence of his pledge. He was now in the living quarters saying his goodbyes to a place still largely unfamiliar to him.

This was a leave with no send off. Lars understood that, accepting that he was beyond the point of an honourable discharge. An unknown chapter awaited him.

As Lars finished gathering his possessions, he suddenly heard something drop behind him. It was as if a pin had fallen from nowhere. Therefore, when he glanced over, the last thing he expected to see was a person. It was none other than Rhys Ewyas Pendragon.

How did you… He almost blurted his thoughts aloud, alarmed by her sudden appearance. He hadn’t heard her approach in the slightest!

“We’re going,” Rhys stated as she held onto Lars’ arm.

Everything seemed to shift in that single moment. His vision warped, cracking like a spider web or a broken mirror, converging light and dark into a single pin-prick before the barracks disappeared. He found himself in a completely new building with a strange interior design.

Rhys’ face showed no reaction to the sudden anomaly. She seemed unphased, as if they had been standing in this room all along. She turned around and headed towards the door, passively beckoning Lars, “Come on then.”

Lars had yet to lose his shock and confusion. He remarked without thinking, “Ah… my stuff.”

Rhys stopped momentarily. She paused as if thinking about something, then seemed to make up her mind. Lars watched as light bent around her before she was gone in an instant. She then returned just as suddenly, dumping his possessions on the ground.

With an inability to complain, Lars ended up following Rhys who was about to leave him behind if he didn’t. They went through a corridor and quickly left the building without sparing time for him to look around.

When they were outside together, Rhys stopped again suddenly. She had a habit of stopping and starting her movements without saying anything—which made it frustrating to follow her.

“I don’t want to waste time walking,” she remarked before approaching Lars again. He had a feeling that he knew what she was going to do and wanted to stop her, but Rhys’ arm had already wrapped around his and the same reality-bending phenomenon occurred. He found himself in a busy city centre this time.

Lars wanted to keel over and vomit out his insides but a massive crowd surrounded himself. There was nowhere to turn to, so all he could do was try his best to hold it in. Another grab of his shoulder threw the both of them into a secluded alley where he promptly threw up.

“What the fuck… What was that?! Rhys, you—” Lars exclaimed through choked breaths, trying to wipe his mouth and adjust his senses.

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“You’ve developed balls, have you? Speaking to me like that,” Rhys quipped.

Lars realised his slip up, quickly responding, “No… I mean—apologies, ma’am.”

“I’m not fond of spineless wimps,” Rhys scoffed.

Lars straightened himself, “Yes...”

“Let’s go.”

Rhys departed from the alleyway while Lars disorientedly followed. They re-entered the crowd from before, once again meeting the busy city centre. Moving through, many establishments passed them by; including various stores and food stalls.

The architecture was densely packed, creating a busy scene. Most of the houses looked new, using a mixture of modern and archaic style, unlike what he was used to in Europe.

“You’ll need to remember a few things in order to survive here,” Rhys introduced.

Lars also found that the ground was lowering as they walked deeper into the city, where he was beginning to realise that the entire location may have been built on a gradient.

She continued, “Do not think of this place to be like any other. Many dangers lurk in the dark, strings attached to strings attached to strings. You aren’t a match for this city as you are.”

Lars listened to her words with doubt but refrained from showing it on his expression. He had a lot of real world experience, accumulated before and after he joined the army, so he understood how not everything would be as calm as it looked on the surface.

He knew there would always be hidden tensions and conflicts—deep in the crevices that the public eye couldn’t reach. However, he couldn’t avoid affirming his disbelief as he looked around and observed the atmosphere.

There were families walking around peacefully, mothers, fathers, their children, happy smiles on their faces. He found food stalls at every corner. High schoolers ran around, unconcerned about anything. The televisions showed advertisements for house products and toys—instead of news stories about another city getting bombed.

Lars couldn’t accept being told how he’s not ready for it. He had been to many different countries, first and third world, where he would have to treat children as terrorists because they might have an explosive on their person. He couldn’t believe her when she expressed how volatile he is as things stand. Even after being told otherwise, Lars couldn’t remove the common sense that Rhys would be the one in greater danger than himself.

Rhys stopped at some point, staring at him intently. She seemed to be scrutinising something, but Lars couldn’t tell what, as he himself hadn’t realised that his thoughts had been seen through. He wasn’t able to mask his doubts completely.

She exclaimed, “It’s that ignorance which makes you a liability.”

Lars didn’t respond. He didn’t agree, but had no place to argue.

As they progressed forward, the ground only continued to sink; more concrete than before was being used for the foundations of buildings. But the quantity of different infrastructure was also starting to thin out now.

When there were no buildings to block his view, his eyes widened in shock. A huge crater revealed itself before him. The ground really had been sinking, leading to a massive hole in the ground that was large enough to encompass a city on its own right.

However, what put Lars into a state of shock and awe wasn’t the massive crater. In its centre, at the lowest point of the crater, there was a huge black spherical void.

It was reminiscent of a miniature planet in its own right. Somehow, staring into it, Lars couldn’t fathom why but he felt as if the void was much larger than it really appeared. It had to be bigger on the inside—it was an instinctive feeling.

While coming to that conclusion, another sensation suddenly grasped him. A string attached to a string… He felt an overwhelming urge to venture into it.

“We call it the singularity,” Rhys explained.

Lars was dumbstruck. “What is it?” He asked.

“It appeared twenty years ago. But that was only when we became aware of it, so it might have been around much longer than that.

“There was a lot of conjecture over what it was. Although, I’m not going to spend a lot of time telling you about its history. That’s not really relevant. You’ll learn most of it in time….”

Lars noticed Rhys reaching out for him again, and his sight warped once more as she spoke, “What you should know for now: is that it’s a wormhole. It’s a portal to another world, essentially.”

This time, the place Lars found himself was not stable ground. He met and touched the sky in an instant. Lars had been moved somewhere incredibly high up, the city now far beneath him!

However, his worries changed as he noticed what exactly was below him. Rhys had placed them directly above the singularity and they were rapidly falling down towards it.

She was still speaking to Lars normally, as if they were not rapidly descending into the ominous void. “I don’t expect you to understand now, but eventually you will come to a realisation: human threat stands on par with that of deities and devils.”

“Deities and devils?” Lars asked incredulously. He understood that this wasn’t the purpose of her statement, but it was too much to gloss over.

Rhys didn’t give him an answer, however, instead warning him, “Try not to die, but don’t be a coward—explore as much as possible. Rewards come to those willing to take a risk.”

“What does that mean?” Lars exclaimed, raising his voice that was being overpowered by the loud wind. Rhys still didn’t provide him with an answer and she was gone in the next moment. It was clear to him, with her departure, that his destination was the singularity whether or not he wanted it to be.

“Rhys, you asshole—!” Lars shouted at the top of his lungs.

The whole world as Lars knew it tipped as if it were a scale, all the weight shifting to one side and flipping over. He could see an endless nothingness now; there was a black void containing an infinite measure of mass, exposing how the world started and ended. Time converged inwards until it became a single instant far more brief than a second. He then found himself lying on the ground in a puddle of his own sweat.

When compared to Rhys’ teleportations over comprehensible distances, this experience had disturbed him in a way that nothing else ever had. He couldn’t fathom this terrible feeling that stemmed from his very core—nothing seemed real anymore.

Before he knew it, he found himself grasping at the empty space in his jacket where he normally holstered his service pistol. Lars didn’t even realise his attempt to grab it and had no idea why he was reaching for it. It was like before, when he had executed Troels and Jensen. Was he nothing more than a man with a gun?

Lars didn’t know what to think. He’d spent everyday trying to live his life, but it had never felt so meaningless until this moment.