The past and present merged with the future, and each second became an infinity as time eclipsed itself. A thousand timelines passed Terrin by, and images of the last few minutes on each side overlapped with what had yet to occur.
When he looked across the rift, Terrin saw the great battle that had raged over Yamoi only twenty-seven Yamoian years before, although it almost a millennium had passed on Incari. Two great spaceships hung against the stars, explosions bursting against invisible shields and bright lights jumping from holes in the metal beasts as they circled each other like birds of prey.
Their war stopped when an expansive tear in space formed between them. Explosions littered the hulls of both vessels as they strained to escape. The Prath ship, which looked like a silver box suspended against the night sky, was the first to pull free and crash to the surface. The Demons’ ship, spewing smoke, tore off in the opposite direction. It orbited the planet for long moments before gravity claimed it.
Terrin tilted his head toward Elurra and saw her timeline laid out before him. Her lonely childhood, their journey, and future unrecognizable faces and landscapes mingled like tangled yarn. Massive battlefields, sheets of ice and snow, exotic unrecognizable horizons, and dark metal rooms resembling the minimalistic Prath bunkers cycled through his mind. Her coming days were like a murky pond. The countless possibilities conflicted, but most were lonely paths soaked in blood. An emblem of a spider’s web atop a snowflake burned itself into his memory, and he shivered and looked away, unsettled by what he saw. The cracks in time grew wider, and he could see emptiness through them. A billion possible futures and pasts flashed through each. Terrin turned his head back toward Nitiri and the Guardian woman, only to find Nitiri was gone. A fracture in time had taken her place.
“Ulliet, time is splitting apart! We have to get the Kutsal Stones through the rift!” Gess called as he ran forward.
Ulliet gaped at where Nitiri had been only moments before, then she tore her gaze away. Gess was blurry. He was simultaneously running forward and sitting at his computer. His future and past were one. Current events overlaid his innocent childhood on the Prath home world before it was destroyed, and he’d been forced into military service. Terrin reached forward to grab the Kutsal Stones, but a crack split his reality.
He was falling. He heard Elurra screaming beside him and felt her grip around his waist. Countless timestreams flew by them in elongated double helices. They all blurred together in a colorful mayhem before his vision faded to white.
Suddenly, he realized he was no longer plummeting, but floating in a purely colorless space. He spun around, looking for any point of reference, only to find Elurra stood in front of him. Something about her felt unsettling. She cocked her head to the side and stared at him, emotionless. After a moment, he realized he was looking at Anchor’s empyrean version of Elurra.
“What a pity, it appears you lived, so the optimal timeline was not achieved.”
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He glanced around, but he had no points of reference to discern where he was. Light came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. There were no walls, corners, floor, or ceiling. It was just one gaping, open expanse.
“Did…did the world just end? Why did you tell me I had to die?”
“Simple. It was the only way to awaken Nitiri, whose fate was intertwined with Incari’s survival. Her bond with Cade shattered her mentally, but Elurra’s suffering brought her back to her senses. She was the only one who could send the Kutsal Stones back through the rift before time shattered. We spent years trying to reach her through her deranged haze, but ultimately only you and Elurra’s journey could bring her back to her right mind and force her to choose to assist the Prath. Otherwise, once she learned it was impossible to resurrect Cade, she either elected to take her own life or destroy the planet.”
“You lied to me then!" he exploded angrily. "You told me my death would fix things, not make them worse! The world ended because of you!”
“Incorrect. If you had remained dead, Nitiri would not have heeded Ulliet’s request to remove all the stones, and time would not have shattered. Ultimately, your untimely resurrection caused the majority of the destruction,” she said flatly.
Terrin balled his fists as he searched for an argument, but ultimately realized the futility.
"So... what now?" he questioned. "Can we fix the rifts?"
“You are past considerations of damage control. You are no longer a part of that world.”
Terrin stared at her for a long moment incredulously.
“I can’t say I’m terribly sorry I bungled things and…” he trailed off as he studied his celestial surroundings. “Survived? Unless I’m dead again? What is this place?”
“This is annil—the void between realities. You are currently careening through the barrier separating time and space. Your fate is uncertain now, unhindered by the fate of that timeline. You could end up a hundred years in the future or twenty years in the past. Or you could be trapped in annil forever. Nothing is certain.”
Terrin gaped at her.
“Is there any way to control it?”
Anchor smiled mysteriously.
“I have contrived a way to navigate the timestreams, but I must ask a favor in return for my assistance.”
“Your last request got me killed, revived, then scattered across time and space. What more could you possibly want from me?” Terrin asked sourly.
“I need you to press a button for me.”
“Come again?”
“My job on Incari is finished. I was built to close the rifts so the Cythraul could no longer feed on Incarians, and I have fulfilled my function. I do not want to be trapped inside my bunker until my circuits decompose. I have viewed the outside world, but I have never been able to leave my prison. I desire a body. I have designed a mobile nanomatrix to support my program, but I cannot eject my own core. A living Prath must confirm the transfer. I ask you do me this one kindness.”
Her request stunned him.
“Why me?”
“You are my only associate. No one else knows me outside of the Macro Analytical Global Interface Computer network. I have always performed from the shadows, but I want to change that,” she said longingly.
Terrin was amazed. Based on what Lira had told him, computers were cold, logic-based devices, but Anchor’s words sounded passionate and sincere.
“I would be honored to help, as long as Elurra and I make it out of annil alive,” he replied with an edge.
Anchor smiled. “Thank you, Terrin. I will be waiting,” she said as she started to fade away.
By the time her last word was spoken, she was as transparent as a ghost. The whiteness vanished, and he was falling again, the real Elurra clinging to his side. He grabbed one of her arms and held on tightly as they flew by glimpses of other times, places, and realities. One of the twisting reels of memory loomed in front of them. Before they had time to react, it enveloped them, sucking them into the unknown.