The autumn wind whispers through the weathered headstones, rustling the golden leaves that carpet the ground. I stand alone in the graveyard, my phone pressed to my ear as I gaze at the polished granite before me. The engraving catches the fading sunlight: ‘Skye Lyon, Beloved Wife and Ramen Lover.’

“You’re there now?” A voice speaks to me through my phone.

“Yes, Mom,” I say softly, my breath visible in the crisp air. “I’m here.”

I clutch a bouquet of red roses, Skye’s favorites. Their delicate petals trembling in my grip. Five years have passed, but the ache in my chest feels as raw as the day she left.

“Oh, Lucas,” my mother’s voice crackles through the phone, tinged with worry. “Skye would want you to be happy, you know.”

A sad smile tugs at my lips. “I know, Mom,” I reply, tracing the curve of Skye’s name with my eyes.

I think of Skye’s laugh and how it used to fill our tiny apartment with warmth. I remember the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams of owning her own blockbuster franchise. Now, at 26, I feel ancient, weighed down by the ghosts of what might have been.

“I’m trying,” I tell my mother and myself. “It’s just... hard sometimes.”

I close my eyes, allowing myself to remember her touch, her scent, the sound of her voice. When I open them again, the world seems a little duller, and the colors are less vibrant.

“Lucas,” my mother’s voice softens, “she’s been gone longer than you were married now. Skye wouldn’t want you visiting on your anniversary like this.”

I feel a familiar tension creep into my shoulders. In my mind’s eye, I can see Skye, her hair whipping in the wind as she stands toe-to-toe with my mother, defending our choices. But Skye isn’t here anymore, and I’ve never learned how to navigate these conversations on my own.

“Uhh, yeah,” I mumble.

“Mothers always know, sweetheart,” she continues, her tone dripping with a mixture of concern and superiority that makes me want to hang up immediately.

I glance at my watch, noting the lengthening shadows across the gravestones.

“Well, it’s getting late, so...” I trail off, hoping she’ll take the hint.

“Of course, dear. Don’t stay out too long. It’s supposed to get quite cold tonight.”

As I end the call, I can’t help but wonder what Skye would say if she were here. Probably something a bit over the line.

“You’re mom’s lucky she got groomed by that teacher dad of yours. Otherwise, no one would have ever gotten trapped by her.” I laugh after doing my best impression of her.

“God, I miss you, Skye.” I whisper, my words carried away by the autumn breeze.

As I place the roses on Skye’s grave, a deafening boom shatters the tranquil silence of the cemetery. Before I can react, an invisible force yanks me backward, and I’m engulfed by a swirling vortex of iridescent light. My stomach lurches as I’m pulled through what feels like a liquid tunnel, colors and sensations blurring around me.

In an instant, I’m ejected onto a cold, sterile floor. Blinking rapidly, I try to focus on my surroundings. I’m in some kind of laboratory, all gleaming metal and pulsing lights. Sleek machines with incomprehensible displays line the walls, and in the center of the room stands a massive contraption that looks like a cross between a particle accelerator and a carnival ride.

“What the fuck?” I blurt out, my voice echoing in the cavernous space.

That’s when I noticed her. A woman stands before me, her appearance so outlandish it takes my breath away. Her hair is a shock of electric blue, styled in gravity-defying spikes. She wears a form-fitting suit that seems to shimmer and change color with her movements, and a cape billows behind her despite the lack of wind. But it’s her eyes that captivate me. They glow an unnatural neon pink, piercing through me like laser beams.

“Who are you?” she demands her voice a mix of confusion and irritation.

“What the fuck?” I repeat, scrambling to my feet and spinning around. The portal that brought me here has vanished, leaving only a blank wall in its place. My heart races as the reality of the situation sinks in. I’m trapped.

The woman’s brow furrows as she scrutinizes me. “No, no, no,” she mutters, shaking her head. “This is all wrong.” She begins pacing, her cape swishing dramatically with each turn.

I take a deep breath, trying to quell the panic rising in my chest. “Where the fuck am I?” I ask.

The woman’s eyes flash with anger. “THE MEAT DOES NOT TALK BACK!” she screams, her voice reverberating off the metallic walls.

I stagger back, shocked by her outburst. “That’s a fucking insane thing to tell someone you just kidnapped through a portal,” I retort, my fear rising to new heights.

Before she can respond, the far wall explodes in a shower of debris and sparks. Through the settling dust strides, a figure that makes my jaw drop. A woman, easily over six feet tall, wearing a skin-tight red and green costume that leaves little to the imagination. Her long brown hair whips behind her over her red cape.

Without hesitation, she launches herself at the blue-haired woman, her fist connecting with a sickening crunch. “Dr. Blight! You rusty cunt, you fucked up my whole night!” she roars, her voice echoing like the gust of a thousand winds.

‘Am I dead?’

Dr. Blight goes flying across the room, crashing into a bank of computers. Sparks fly as she struggles to her feet, her face contorted with rage and... is that despair?

‘Have I gone absolutely fucking insane?’

“No!” Dr. Blight wails, “But I was supposed to finally find-”

The hero’s fist connects with Dr. Blight’s jaw before she can finish her sentence, sending her crumpling to the floor like a discarded marionette. The impact reverberates through the lab, causing various beakers and instruments to rattle ominously.

‘Oh my god, did she kill her?’

“Honestly,” the hero sighs, her voice tinged with boredom, “you’d think after the fifteenth time, they’d figure it out.” She casually dusts off her hands, her movements graceful despite her imposing stature.

As she turns towards me, time seems to slow. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum. It’s her.

It’s really her.

Skye.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

My Skye.

She stands before me, larger than life, her costume hugging every curve in a way that would have made me blush if I weren’t so overwhelmed by her mere presence. Her brown hair cascades over her shoulders, framing a face I thought I’d never see again outside of my dreams and faded photographs.

“Who are you?” she asks, her voice a ballad I’ve longed to hear for five agonizing years.

I can’t speak. My throat constricts as tears well up in my eyes, spilling over and streaking down my cheeks. “Skye,” I manage to choke out.

She cocks her head to the side, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “Oh, you know my name? Are you a fan?” She laughs, the sound so achingly familiar it sends a shiver down my spine.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around her waist and burying my face in her shoulder. She’s solid, warm, real. “Skye,” I sob, my words muffled against her costume, “I missed you so much.”

Skye’s body tenses for a moment, clearly taken aback by my sudden embrace. But then, to my surprise and relief, I feel her strong arms wrap around me, one hand gently rubbing my back in soothing circles.

“Woah there, big guy,” she says, her voice a mix of concern and amusement. “I think you’re having quite the reaction. Did Dr. Blight zap you with something before I got here?”

I can’t stop the tears from flowing, my body shaking with sobs as I cling to her. The fabric of her costume is smooth against my cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she murmurs, her hand still moving in comforting patterns across my back. “Whatever’s happening, we’ll figure it out.”

I finally manage to pull back slightly, my tear-stained face tilted up to meet her gaze. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world around us seems to fade away. I watch as her expression shifts, a flicker of recognition passing through her vibrant green eyes.

“Do I... do I know you?” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.

My heart leaps at her words. “Skye,” I choke out, my voice thick with emotion, “it’s me. Luke.”

Her eyes widen in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “Luke?” she repeats, disbelief coloring her tone. “Luke Lyons? But that’s impossible. You... you died in 6th grade.”

I shake my head vehemently, tightening my grip on her as if afraid she might disappear. “I have no fucking idea what’s happening,” I confess, my words tumbling out in a rush. “One minute I was in the cemetery, and the next I’m here, and you’re alive, and everything’s different, and I just... I don’t understand any of this.”

Skye looks at me with a furrowed brow, her green eyes searching my face as if trying to solve an impossible puzzle. She glances around the lab, taking in the destruction caused by her fight with Dr. Blight. Sparks still fly from damaged equipment, and the acrid smell of burnt circuitry fills the air.

“Okay,” she says softly. “Let’s take a step back and figure this out.” She gently disentangles herself from my embrace but keeps a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a seat over there?” She points to a relatively undamaged corner of the lab where a few chairs have miraculously survived the chaos.

I nod numbly, my legs feeling like jelly as I make my way over to the chairs. The metal is cool against my back as I sink into one, my mind reeling from the impossibility of the situation.

“I’ll call the big wigs up stairs alright.” She smiles at me as i sit in confusion.

*****

I sit nervously as a flurry of activity erupts around me. Women in crisp white lab coats bustle about, their eyes alight with scientific curiosity. They poke and prod me with an array of bizarre instruments, muttering to each other in hushed, excited tones.

A red-haired scientist with thick-rimmed glasses steps forward, her clipboard clutched tightly to her chest. “Oh, he’s definitely from another universe,” she declares, her voice tinged with a mixture of fascination and pity. “I hate when this happens. Poor guy.”

Her words send a chill down my spine. Another universe? The implications are staggering, and I struggle to wrap my mind around the concept.

Suddenly, I feel a firm grip on my bicep. A blonde scientist with a mischievous glint in her eye is practically fondling my arm, her touch lingering longer than necessary. “Tell me,” she purrs, leaning in close enough that I can smell her minty breath, “do dinosaurs still roam the Earth where you’re from?”

My eyes widen in shock. “Do they here?” I blurt out, my voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

The scientist giggles, her hand still resting on my arm. “Oh honey, wouldn’t that be something?”

The blonde scientist’s fingers trace lazy circles on my arm, her touch sending an involuntary shiver through me. “You know,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve always wondered about the anatomical differences between universes. Care to satisfy my curiosity?” She winks, her meaning unmistakable.

Before I can stammer out a response, a gust of wind sweeps through the lab, scattering papers and rattling equipment. Skye appears beside us, her cape billowing dramatically behind her. Her green eyes flash with barely contained anger as she glares at the blonde scientist.

“Get your fucking hooves off him,” Skye growls, her voice low and dangerous. “He’s probably scared shitless as it is without you pawing at him like he’s the last slice of cake at fat camp.”

The blonde scientist jerks her hand away as if burned. “I... I was just...” she stammers, unable to meet Skye’s piercing gaze.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, suddenly finding the floor incredibly interesting.

The red-haired scientist clears her throat nervously, pushing her glasses up her nose with a trembling finger. “Um, Super Star,” she begins, her voice quavering slightly, “I’m afraid we have some... troubling news.”

My stomach drops at her words. “What is it?” I ask, dreading the answer.

The scientist takes a deep breath as she looks at me. Her clipboard clutched to her chest like a shield. “We can’t send you back to your original universe,” she says, her words hanging heavy in the air.

“What?” I exclaim, my voice cracking with disbelief.

The scientist winces at my outburst but continues. “The quantum entanglement required for precise interdimensional travel is incredibly complex. Without an exact map of your universe’s quantum signature, it’s virtually impossible to pinpoint its location in the multiverse.”

My head spins as I try to process her words. “So... I’m stuck here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

The red-haired scientist shifts uncomfortably. “Not necessarily,” she hedges. “We could potentially send you to another universe, one that might be similar to your own. It would be a bit of a gamble, but-”

“No,” Skye interrupts, her voice firm and brooking no argument. “No way in hell are we sending him off to God knows where. He doesn’t need to end up in the world of demonic squirrels or something equally fucked up.”

‘Is that a real place?’ I wonder.

“Is that a real place?” I lose to the thoughts.

No one even hears me. The scientists exchange nervous glances, clearly intimidated by Skye’s forceful presence.

The scientists exchange glances, a mix of apprehension and excitement dancing in their eyes. The red-haired one clears her throat, pushing her glasses up her nose with a trembling finger.

“Actually,” she begins, her voice growing steadier as she speaks, “we have a system in place for interdimensional refugees like yourself. It’s quite comprehensive, really. We can provide you with temporary housing, job placement assistance, the works really.”

I blink, trying to process this flood of information. “You mean this happens often enough that you have a whole system for it?”

The blonde scientist, who has been fidgeting nervously since Skye’s outburst, pipes up. “Oh yes! We get dimensional travelers at least once a month.”

The red-haired scientist frowns, glancing at her watch. “However, it is getting rather late. The integration process can’t begin until tomorrow morning. For tonight, you’ll need to stay at Star Tower. We have guest quarters specifically designed for...”

“Nonsense,” Skye interrupts, her voice firm but not unkind. She places a hand on my shoulder, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through my body. “He can stay at my place tonight. He even know’s me from his world.”

Without thinking, I reach for her hand, my fingers brushing against hers like I’m touching the ghost of a loved one.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

Skye’s eyes soften as she looks at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “Of course. It’s the least I can do for an old friend from another universe.”

The red-haired scientist’s eyes widen in alarm. “But that’s definitely against protocol!” she exclaims, clutching her clipboard tighter. “We can’t just-”

Before she can finish, the blonde scientist practically leaps forward, cutting her off mid-sentence. Her laughter rings out, high-pitched and slightly manic. “Oh, don’t be such a stickler for the rules!” she says, waving her hand dismissively and nervously. “It’s no problem at all, Super Star. We completely understand.”

Skye’s gaze sweeps over to the red-haired scientist, her eyes narrowing dangerously. The woman seems to shrink under Skye’s intense stare, her earlier bravado evaporating like mist in the morning sun. Skye towers over her, her presence filling the room with an almost palpable energy.

“It won’t be a problem, right?” Skye asks, her voice deceptively soft but laced with steel.

The red-haired scientist’s face drains of color, her freckles standing out starkly against her now-pale skin. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing visibly. “N-no,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. “No problem at all, Super Star.”

“Good,” Skye replies, her tone brooking no further argument.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the intimidating aura surrounding Skye dissipated. She turns to me, her face softening into a warm smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Her green eyes, moments ago as hard as emeralds, now shine with a gentleness that takes my breath away.

Skye turns to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You ever flown, Luke?”

I chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. “On a plane.”

Her lips curve into a playful smirk. “Cute,” she says, her voice full of amusement.