Chapter VI: Cataclysm

Tetsuo’s foot tapped nervously beneath the interrogation table, each strike betraying the anxiety bubbling beneath his usually composed exterior. Across from him, Lucy shifted subtly and nudged his leg with her foot—a silent command to calm down. Their eyes met briefly, both unflinching as their focus returned to Paul Sievernich, seated across from them with an unreadable expression.

He leafed through the confiscated documents Lucy had risked so much to gather—articles, case files, redacted reports. His fingers flicked through the pages with indifference, dismissing many until one page halted him cold. His eyes narrowed.

“Where did you get this article... and this photograph?” he asked, lifting both items.

Lucy’s voice was cool, controlled. “From the archive. It was buried among the rest.”

Paul didn’t answer right away. His brow furrowed in thought before he offered a disbelieving smirk.

“Either you’re telling the truth… or you’re the most convincing liar to ever fool our psychometric scans.”

Lucy gave a nonchalant shrug. “Take it however you want. I am telling the truth.”

Paul exhaled slowly, then leaned forward with a deliberate shift of energy.

“Let’s not dance around this. You broke into Dr. Buchanan’s office. Explain yourselves.”

A heavy silence followed.

Paul's expression darkened, though he wore a mask of faux civility. He folded his arms.

“Look, I know you’re trying to prove Felix is innocent. But we both know—he’s not. You think evidence might help? Maybe it could get him reintegrated, but it won’t exonerate him.”

He paused, watching them squirm.

“Here’s how this ends if you don’t cooperate: you’re both expelled from NIX Polytechnic, charged with infiltration, and spend your lives in the NIX Detention Center. You’ll have plenty of time to regret it.”

Lucy inhaled deeply, then spoke.

“You’re right. We’re looking for something that might help Felix. But we didn’t break in. We had clearance. And we won’t share anything else with you.”

Tetsuo turned to her, eyes wide with disbelief. Was she bluffing?

Paul snorted. “That’s cute,” he said smugly, sitting back with arms crossed. “You think that’ll hold up.”

Before he could say more, the door creaked open.

A uniformed officer entered. “Sir. You’ll want to see this.” He handed Paul a tablet.

Sievernich’s smile vanished as he read. His fingers tightened around the device. Whatever he saw unnerved him.

“...Alright,” he muttered after a moment. “Both of you—grab your things. You’re free to go. No questions.”

The officer turned to Lucy and Tetsuo. “Come with me. This way.”

Still stunned, they followed without protest.

***

Gunther Wazowski’s private quarters were more of a personal arcade than an office. Neon-lit gaming rigs blinked on every surface, and game soundtracks thrummed faintly beneath the conversation.

Lucy knelt on the floor, repacking her documents into labelled archive boxes. Tetsuo stood nearby, visibly agitated.

“Gunther-sensei, that was incredible! How did you forge the Administrator-level clearance?”

Gunther, mid-installation of a retro fighting game, glanced over.

“Didn’t forge anything. That was all Eva. She came earlier asking about Felix. I... borrowed a copy of her psychometric code. When I realised you two were the ones who’d broken into Buchanan’s office? Well... I wasn’t about to leave my favourite seventh-year duo to rot.”

Tetsuo slumped onto the sofa beside Lucy, his shoulders heavy.

“Still... Sievernich’s right. Even with evidence, Felix did help the Paradox Movement. He’s guilty.”

Lucy didn’t look at him. She sealed the last box, then turned.

“Maybe he is. But we know there’s more to this. The Missing Persons reports, Dr. Buchanan’s final video, the cube that looks exactly like the package Felix handed over to the Paradox Movement…”

She looked him straight in the eye.

“This isn’t just about Felix anymore. This is bigger. And I can’t do it alone.”

Gunther chimed in with a grin. “She’s right. Help the lady out, Tetsuo. Be the hero, not the sidekick.”

Tetsuo gave a half-smile, then rose and extended his hand. Lucy accepted it, pulling herself upright.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get to the bottom of this. For Felix. For the others. For everyone they’ve buried.”

He tilted his head, curious. “But... how’d you know we’d actually get the clearance?”

Lucy shrugged.

“I didn’t. It was a gamble.”

Lucy dusted herself off. “I’ll drop these documents at my place. Won’t be long.”

Tetsuo nodded. “Great. Let’s grab something to eat after.”

Then he checked the time—and paled.

“Oh no. I promised Eva I’d help with the Halloween Festival—an hour ago.”

Lucy raised a brow. “Then let’s go. She’ll understand.”

They turned to leave.

“Thanks for everything, Gunther-sensei,” Tetsuo called out.

Gunther waved from his headset, still deep in conversation.

“No problem. By the way—Victor, how many times do we have to tell you? It’s October 31st, not March 31st. It’s HALLOWEEN.”

He paused, then burst into laughter.

“There’s NO NIX Space Station, Victor!? That’s not funny—wait, what do you mean? you told me to searched for hidden object in Earth’s orbit and I found nothing!”

Lucy and Tetsuo exchanged confused glances.

“What... was that about?” Lucy asked.

Tetsuo shrugged. “Beats me.”

They exited the quarters, leaving Gunther mid-rant, the words “NIX Corp never built any space station” echoing behind them.

***

Tetsuo and Lucy quickened their pace, cutting across the breadth of Central Park as they made their way from the North End to the West End, the sprawling grounds of NIX Polytechnic's Halloween Festival buzzing with movement. Volunteers and attendees weaved through rows of decorations, stalls, and floating light displays, each person caught between the joy of festivity and the hum of something unspoken in the air.

Despite the long trek, Tetsuo managed to keep up without complaint—his reward: a warm pizzarito clutched in one hand, half-unwrapped and steaming. He munched greedily as Lucy guided them with efficient purpose, expertly slipping through the shifting crowds. Her eyes scanned every signpost and route marker, committed to making up lost time.

"You sure this shortcut doesn't lead through the costume parade?" Tetsuo asked between bites, his mouth half-full.

"Do you see any giant inflatable pumpkins in our path?" Lucy shot back, not breaking stride.

As they neared the West End, the park opened into a larger event zone. Pumpkin-shaped lanterns floated mid-air, digital scarecrows danced to AI-generated music, and visitors—children and adults alike—mingled in a visual symphony of light, laughter, and illusion.

At the far end, Eva stood in a clearing, her face illuminated by the cold glow of her phone screen. Her volunteer shift had ended, and though her posture appeared relaxed, her shoulders remained tense, her gaze unmoving. Lucy and Tetsuo, still seventeen minutes away by Lucy’s estimate, continued navigating the sea of people—until something caught their eye.

Beneath their feet, a subtle glow began to ripple across the manicured grass. Tiny, bioluminescent particles shimmered like stardust, breaking free from the soil in slow, spiralling drifts. Tetsuo instinctively halted mid-step, eyes narrowing.

“Lucy… do you see that?”

“I do,” she replied, voice sharp, her instincts suddenly on edge.

Then—the world trembled.

A thunderous crack echoed through the sky, like the shattering of tempered glass. Overhead, the atmosphere split open, tearing like a projector screen fractured from behind. From the rupture, an immense tower-like structure erupted upward, piercing through the pale blue veil of the heavens. It spiralled grotesquely, its obsidian metal surface flickering with unnatural reflections.

Before anyone could react, a new horror emerged.

From deep within the gash in the sky, a massive rift expanded—a worm-like serpent, black as void and vast as the stratosphere itself, coiled and unfurled with fluid, slow malevolence. Its body twisted impossibly across the skyline, ripping the sky open wider, unfurling a new horizon that bled shadow and distortion.

A shiver rippled through the city.

The serpent’s mass shifted.

Like tendrils of thick ink spilled through water, it flowed outward—its shadow blotting out entire districts. It swept across boroughs, over rivers, beyond borders. In minutes, its tendrils had slithered across continents, cloaking the world in creeping, surreal darkness.

And then—it fell.

The serpent, immense and merciless, descended from the heavens, plummeting like a meteor. The instant its body touched the earth, the ground convulsed. A cataclysmic quake tore through the foundation of New York City, splitting streets and sending towers swaying. Cracks spiderwebbed across the land. Trees wrenched free of their roots. Pavement ruptured. Screams erupted across the festival grounds.

“Get down!” Lucy yelled, grabbing Tetsuo by the collar and throwing both of them behind a reinforced stall.

The impact resounded with the force of an extinction event—earth meeting unearthly flesh.

***

Victor sprinted down the corridor as the NIX Space Station groaned under its own collapse, electric wires sparking wildly as they hung like vines from ruptured walls and the crumbling ceiling. The station had sustained catastrophic damage and was rapidly falling apart.

Engineers and technicians scrambled in chaos, shouting over one another in a futile attempt to maintain the crumbling infrastructure. Panic rippled through every corner of the facility.

As Victor raced past the observation window, he caught sight of the Cosmos Flux Regulator, its core vibrating violently with overcharge. Within seconds, it detonated in a blinding flash—the entire main hall vaporized in a split-second, shattering the window with a thunderous blast.

Victor barely managed to grip the railing behind him. The emergency pressure field activated just in time, sealing the breach and saving him from being ripped into the vacuum of space. Groaning in pain, he hauled himself to his feet, eyes locking onto corpses floating beyond the cracked viewport—silent, lifeless, weightless.

He didn’t hesitate. Gritting his teeth, Victor continued through the broken corridors, stepping over the bodies of mauled security officers, the hallways littered with weapons and shattered glass. He reached the armoury and quickly armed himself, checking the remaining charge on his Phaser and grabbing a backup SDN gear.

***

Victor entered the Control Centre. The seismic tremor had left the room in disarray. Officers barked desperate commands into their telecoms—each message answered only by static or agonized screams.

Evacuation remained prohibited under any circumstance. Attempting to flee meant opening the bay doors—and being jettisoned into space.

At the center of the room, Admiral Karen Bridges stood rigid, glaring at a flickering holographic display showing real-time structural damage across the station. Sector by sector, red markers spread like infection, and the self-destruction probability climbed—57%... and rising.

“Admiral, we have to evacuate,” Victor said, trying to stay calm. “We’ve patched what we can, but it’s getting worse.”

Karen’s cold, beady black eyes fixed on him. Before she could speak, the telecom screeched with another panicked report:

“We need backup! I repeat—we need back—AHHH!”
The voice cut off, replaced by static.

“As you can see, Dr. Neumann,” Karen snapped, her voice steel, “my job is to maintain and protect this station. That’s what I’m doing. So my answer is no. You want to get yourself thrown out of an airlock? Be my guest.”
She turned her back.
“Now get out of my sight—and do your job.”

Victor stared at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched. If the station had any chance of survival, it wouldn’t come from following orders. He turned and left, resolute in taking matters into his own hands.

***

Victor moved cautiously, stepping around jagged glass shards, Phaser raised and ready. The corridor flickered with red emergency lighting as he advanced toward Pandora’s containment cell. When he arrived, his breath caught—the cell was wide open, and Pandora was nowhere in sight.

Her belongings were gone—except one: the dormouse doll she had spent hours knitting. Nestled beside it, a note read:

“I am Outside.”

Victor stared, confused. “I know she’s outside the cell, sure—but where is ‘outside’?” he muttered, mind racing to decode her cryptic message.

Suddenly, the intercom blared, snapping him back to the present:

“Admiral Karen Bridges is relieved of duty. WE ARE EVACUATING NOW! PROCEED TO THE FLIGHT DECK IMMEDIATELY. If unable to reach the deck, use the EMERGENCY ESCAPE PODS. The station will self-destruct in 20 minutes!”

Heart pounding, Victor bolted toward the exit. But as he neared the hallway’s junction, he froze. A sickening sound echoed—metal grinding, heavy stomping, high-pitched screeching.

A monstrous figure emerged: a seven-foot-tall Void, arms ending in twin crescent-shaped blades. Its face was grotesquely covered by interlocked, scaly fingers.

Suddenly, a mutated lab rat the size of a housecat burst from a vent. The Void’s fingers snapped open, revealing a bloodied, fleshy maw—an appendage masquerading as a face. In a single lunge, it swallowed the rat whole, python-like.

“Oh... That is a big weewoo,” Victor muttered.

The creature lunged.

Victor fired his Phaser—but the shots ricocheted off its hide. Desperate, he phase-shifted with his SDN Equipment, teleporting behind the beast. Rather than flee, he dove into the ventilation shaft, crawling as fast as his adrenaline-fueled limbs could carry him.

The Void tried to follow, but it was too large. Instead, it launched its appendage, grabbing Victor’s boot and dragging him backward. Thinking fast, Victor switched his Phaser to flare mode and fired directly at the exposed face.

The Void screamed, flames licking its grotesque flesh. It released him.

Victor didn’t look back.

By the time Victor arrived at the Flight Deck, chaos had reached a fever pitch. Evacuees scrambled for escape shuttles. Admiral Bridges, unhinged and desperate, brandished her Phaser.

“Back to work! We must protect this station at all costs!”

“There’s nothing left to protect!” someone shouted. “The Voids are loose! The station will blow in ten minutes!”

Victor stepped forward and stunned her with a clean shot. “Secure her in a shuttle. Go—now!”

The survivors obeyed. But before they could launch, a violent quake rocked the station.

Then they saw it.

A colossal Wyrm loomed beyond the shattered hull, crashing into the station, its monstrous body ripping through steel, severing the shuttle’s escape path.

Panic surged. “What do we do now?!”

Suddenly, a violin’s soft melody echoed—coming from space.

Outside, suspended in zero-gravity, a dark-haired woman played, her music stabilizing the station’s crumbling framework. Debris floated away, clearing the shuttle path.

Victor locked eyes with her. She nodded, smiling.

“Go!” he shouted. “This is our only chance!”

As survivors flooded into the shuttles, a Void with a battleaxe arm snatched one evacuee mid-run, dragging them away screaming.

Victor made a choice.

“Leave. I’ll hold them off.”

He turned to face the oncoming Voids alone. As the shuttles launched, Victor stood firm, using every last ounce of his SDN gear to hold the line. Laser fire lit up the hangar, pushing the creatures back.

He staggered, bleeding, breath ragged.

“Damn... I’m just an engineer. How did I end up here?”

One last Void loomed—the Battleaxe, now grown more monstrous after consuming the fallen. It snarled.

Victor checked his depleted gear. One item remained: M.J.O.L.N.I.R.—a crystalline dodecahedron, glowing red.

“Newt said I didn’t have to know how to use it... just believe.”

He clenched the object. It transformed into a transparent glass-like longsword.

The final battle began.

Steel clashed. Sparks flew. The violin returned—its melody weakening the beast. The Void writhed, and its scaly face unfurled, revealing vulnerable tissue.

Victor lunged, plunging the sword deep into its exposed core. The creature shrieked, then disintegrated into nothing.

Victor collapsed, gasping.

Footsteps approached. It was Pandora.

She lifted him onto her shoulder and helped him to the nearest escape pod. Only one was functional.

“You go,” he coughed. “You can survive space. I won’t survive reentry.”

She signed: “I’m not human. You are. You go.”

Victor shook his head, reached into his pocket, and placed the dormouse inside the pod. Then, without warning, he kissed her—her eyes wide in shock.

“For all the music you played for me… Let me play for you, just once.”

He shoved her into the pod, which sealed and began countdown. Grabbing her violin, he played as the pod launched—his final gift to her.

She watched him disappear through the viewport as the station erupted in a blinding supernova.

The pod glided through space. Pandora, silent, clutched the dormouse in her lap.

Then she looked ahead—and froze in horror.

Earth—engulfed in the Wyrm’s grasp, its shadow snuffing out the sun.

The shuttles hadn’t survived. There was nothing left.

Except her.

***

The air was thick with smoke and ash. Eva’s ears rang violently, the pressure disorienting. Her body ached, her limbs trembling as she pushed herself off the broken ground. A stabbing headache pulsed through her skull—a mild concussion, she realized.

Vision slowly returning, she coughed, eyes watering. Her hand brushed against something—not concrete, but a slick, pulsing surface, cold and strangely elastic.

As the haze cleared, her heart dropped. It wasn’t a wall—it was a massive, worm-like serpent’s head. Its grotesque, bloodshot eye snapped open, revealing dozens of smaller twitching pupils embedded in yellow sclera. The eyes jerked in random, horrifying directions.

Eva instinctively took a step back, muscles locked with dread.

Without warning, the ground shook violently—the serpent launched forward, its colossal frame lunging toward NIX Polytechnic. In a heartbeat, the worm slammed headfirst into the institution, its massive body shattering buildings, cracking foundations, and causing the land to collapse inward.

Eva ran—sprinting, leaping across collapsing terrain, using fractured slabs as stepping stones over the growing chasm. The earth crumbled behind her. At the last moment, she lunged, barely catching the far edge. Her fingers clawed at stability. With exhausted strength, she pulled herself up and rolled onto solid ground, chest heaving, mind racing.

Above her, the once-blue sky was now fractured, chunks of black void breaking through like pieces of reality had gone missing.

“What the hell just happened?” she gasped. “Was that a Void? That has to be Thermosphere Magnitude—maybe higher!”

She scrambled to her feet. “I have to find the others.”

Pushing through cracked tree trunks and scorched foliage, Eva emerged into a surreal nightmare. Skyscrapers hovered midair, twisted at impossible angles. Roads rippled like disturbed water. Cars lay scattered and burning.

A mechanical voice crackled from unseen speakers:

"This is a large-scale Voids Incursion. All personnel who completed the NIX Final Exam or Voids Eradication Exam, report for combat duty immediately."

Screams filled the air—people fleeing in terror. The Voids were everywhere, tearing through survivors like shadows made flesh. The air was thick with fire, blood, and insanity.

Laser fire tore across the sky, NIX Security personnel forming a battered perimeter with what little remained of the military and law enforcement.

Eva ran toward them—but her movement drew the attention of a swarm of twelve monkey-sized Voids, feasting on a mangled corpse. Insectile wings buzzed as they took to the air, shrieking, teeth bared.

“EVA, GET DOWN!”

Eva dropped instantly. Twelve laser projectiles ripped through the Voids, vaporizing them on impact.

She looked up. Newt.

He rushed to her, hand extended. She took it, and together they ducked behind barricades into a temporary NIX operations tent.

“Newt—have you seen Tetsuo or Lucy? Sasha and Dani too? Do you know what’s going on?”

Newt exhaled a shaky breath. “Tetsuo and Lucy are rescuing civilians on the Southwest End. As for what happened... the world’s wrecked. Voids came out of nowhere. NIX Polytechnic is gone. A NIX Space Station crashed in Manhattan.”

He paused, grief tightening his face. “I should’ve believed Victor.”

Eva said nothing—her chest clenched.

“We’ve lost nearly everyone. Most of the recruits and personnel were still inside NIX. Gunther... he went back to get them. He called me right before the Wyrm hit.”

Eva touched his shoulder, steady and strong. “I got this. Do what you can. And don’t make me tell Gunther in the afterlife that you gave up.”

Newt chuckled weakly. “M.J.O.L.N.I.R and SDN Equipment are in the crates. NIX isn’t banning anything anymore—we’re past rules now.”

Eva approached the crates. Holographic text flared up:

A weapon of unknown origin, M.J.O.L.N.I.R is spiritually bound to a Quasar or Pulsar’s psyche. It takes a physical form based on the user’s deepest fears, emotions, or personal flaws—a mirror of the soul. It converts pure Cosmos energy into a weapon tailored to its wielder. As its user evolves, so too does the M.J.O.L.N.I.R.

A nanotech-enhanced mobility system enabling users to move through 4D space. Worn as a badge that deploys into a full body harness, SDN allows teleportation-like movement—ideal for combat against agile Voids. It draws from a limited artificial cosmos battery and requires advanced mastery of timing and combat flow.

As Eva began suiting up, Newt turned at the tent entrance.

“Eva... I think this world we live in—”
“—is already our afterlife.”

He vanished into the warzone.