Suddenly, he’s gone.
Swallowed whole.
The control room dims. Instruments shudder. Every screen blinks out for a second, then back—glitched, data corrupted by the gravity well bleeding from the rift.
I slam a fist on the console. “Kaz, do you read? Kaz, this is Nova. Come in.”
Static.
Not even static.
Just… silence.
Verzius’s pod flickers on the map, spinning in wild telemetry. He’s circling the event horizon, unable to follow. I patch him in.
“Verzius, report.”
“He’s inside. The override triggered. Then—nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?”
“I mean the sensors lost him. He’s either in another dimension or spread across ten.”
The lights above me flash red. A low vibration shakes the deck.
I lean into the mic, my breath hot against the receiver. “Kaz. Come back. Kaz,talk to me.”
Still nothing.
My throat tightens, and I try again. “Kaz, it’s Nova. I’m at comms. Your boy is asleep in his room. Verzius is holding the line. The override drive is yours. The stars are waiting.”
Nothing.
I slam my hand against the console again, blinking back tears. “Come home, Kaz.Come back to me. Don’t leave us. Don’t leavehim.”
I feel the moment crack.
In me.
In the room.
In the gate.
The rift shudders. Light spasms across the skygrid. My monitors flood with corrupted feedback—images that shouldn’t exist. Glitches that look like memories.
Dar’s laugh.
Kaz’s smile.
My hand in his on that damn porch.
The soft whir of his ship’s cockpit closing.
And his voice, once—raw, low, real.
“I’m staying.”
Then silence again.
