Saxon-Switzerland, Germany – November 4th, 1941 | 8:19 A.M.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzM6R7zunNv
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Eva and Victor crept around the corner. At the far end of the corridor, a towering metallic humanoid passed silently, its reflective surface catching slivers of light.
“So let me get this straight,” Eva whispered. “You came from the year 2073... a Void Incursion occurred that somehow coincides with my Void Incident in 2203. You were working on a space station. You saw a giant snake. Then—somehow—you ended up here?”
Victor nodded. “That’s about right.”
He motioned her down a side passage, likely a route with fewer patrols.
“This Interstice is giving me a damn migraine,” Eva muttered, massaging her temples. Schrödinger, the sleek white cat on her shoulder, purred softly near her ear, as if to soothe her unraveling thoughts.
“How did you end up here?” she asked as they moved.
Victor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he knelt beside a sealed access panel. He tugged it open, revealing a mess of fibre-optic strands twitching like translucent anemones—alive, almost sentient. Their motion was unsettling, like exposed nerve endings.
He gestured for her torch. Eva handed it over, and he swiftly removed the battery. With careful precision, Victor connected it to the living strands. A low current surged through the fibres, causing the door to creak and swing open.
He handed her back the makeshift bypass device. Eva tucked it into her handbag without a word.
The distant thud of mechanical footsteps echoed from the corridor ahead. Both dropped into cover.
Through the crack in the doorway, they saw a squadron of bipedal machines marching in formation. In their midst—Generals Lennox and Kazan—and between them, a young lieutenant bound and flanked by armed guards.
“It’s... a long story,” Victor muttered.
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NIX Space Station Orbiting above the Atlantic Ocean – March 31, 2073 | 08:19 A.M.
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Victor watched helplessly as the Pandora escape pod vanished into the void.
Moments later, a series of explosions tore through the station’s structure. Pressure alarms screamed. Fire and vacuum danced through the corridors. The force knocked him off his feet.
He hit the floor, dazed.
Victor didn’t try to get up.
There was no point.
He lay there in silence, still gripping the violin in his hand. He cried—at first in fear, then in despair. When the sobs faded, he simply closed his eyes, waiting for the end.
Sector after sector ruptured. The hangar bay was the last to go.
And yet... death never came.
His eyes shot open. A cold, strange presence hovered above him.
Two extraterrestrial beings stared down, eyes unblinking, forms impossible to define—fluid and angular, both ancient and new.
He screamed.
One of them leaned closer, voice calm but resonant—alien, but intelligible.
“Where is Alice?”
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“They have the technology to tamper with timelines—well, they call them narratives,” Victor explained in a low voice as they moved cautiously through the facility. “Their abilities are like cheat codes in a video game—breaking rules, rewriting the laws of reality.”
He checked the corridor again. Clear.
“They predicted an Interstice would open here in 1941—so they came, searching for Alice. They probed my mind, tried to extract answers. But apparently, I’m protected. So instead of killing me, they locked me up. Kept me alive until I give them what they want.”
He paused, glancing around once more before motioning for Eva to follow.
“Alice?” Eva echoed, incredulous. “The Alice I knew... she sort of died in 2023. Unless they’re looking for one of her shards. Constantine’s theory said there were seven.”
Victor crept along the corridor, keeping low. “I don’t know who they’re after,” he admitted. “There are too many Alices now. Maybe in different timelines, maybe across the multiverse. Finding the right one is like searching for a single star in the expanse of the cosmos.”
Suddenly, Victor raised his hand—stop.
Footsteps.
Someone—or something—was approaching.
Eva pressed herself against the wall, and Schrödinger reacted instantly. The white cat expanded, his body distorting momentarily before he latched onto the ceiling like liquid fog. Eva and Victor grabbed hold of him, using his mass to hoist themselves up and out of sight.
A patrolling unit passed beneath, unaware.
When the coast was clear, they dropped silently back to the ground. Schrödinger returned to his usual size and perched back on Eva’s shoulder, tail flicking with feline composure.
They continued deeper into the facility. Victor bypassed another security lock—this one older, less advanced. It creaked open, revealing a massive spacecraft bay.
Miniature fighter ships were docked haphazardly, clustered like insects in a hive. The sight sent a chill through all three of them. Schrödinger let out a low growl.
At the far end of the hangar, they entered a chamber housing a sleek, alien-looking platform—hexagonal, with glowing pylons. It hummed softly with energy.
“A teleportation pad,” Eva deduced, watching as Victor accessed the holographic control panel.
Victor frowned at the interface. “Yeah, but this one’s a stripped-down version. The real one—the secure one—is in the command centre. This one only works between points that have already been integrated into the Interstice system. Right now, the only available endpoint is Berlin.”
Eva narrowed her eyes. “No way to divert it?”
Victor shook his head, still working the controls. “Not unless I rewire the base’s neural uplink—and that would definitely trigger security.”
Eva exhaled sharply. “Then we split. I have to rescue my comrade. Do you know where they’re being held?”
Victor turned to her with disbelief. “You’re serious? After everything I just told you? These people are more than human—they’re practically god-tier. Trying to break in and rescue someone is suicide.”
“I know,” Eva said evenly. “That’s why I’m asking where. I helped you, now you help me. I’ll do this with or without your intel.”
Victor hesitated, then crossed his arms.
“Fine. But if you're caught, I won’t be bailing you out. And if you're not back in 30 minutes, I’m leaving without you.”
Eva held out her hand.
“Deal.”
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Eva pressed herself against the pulsating wall, its organic surface shifting slightly beneath her hands. She waited, motionless, as an alien patrol drifted past, their insectile limbs clicking softly against the metallic floor.
“The wall is alive. It hides you from their sensors—thermal and isomorphic. Stay low. Your comrade is likely in the experiment chamber. Reach them before the Supreme and his council arrive, or their minds will be dust.”29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKS43qv3tV5
Victor’s voice echoed in her mind like a whisper through static.
Navigating the maze-like corridors of the vessel, Eva relied on Victor’s device—an improvised interface that silently bypassed alien security systems without raising alarms. She got turned around a few times, the ship’s layout warping unnaturally, as though adjusting itself to guide—or trap—her. Eventually, a door irised open, revealing the experiment room.
Strapped to surgical slabs, her comrades turned toward her with startled expressions.
“Thank God!” General Lennox gasped. “You’re like a nun sent by God to rescue us from the walking bug people!”
“They’re frogs,” Kazan muttered, scowling.
“Boys! Argue later,” Eva snapped. She activated Victor’s device, disengaging their restraints with a series of soft clicks.
“She still calls us ‘boys’,” Lennox said, eyeing Kazan. “Think she means we’re still handsome?”
“She means we’re idiots,” Kazan growled.
With their bindings released, the generals quickly reclaimed their weapons from a nearby tray. Eva moved to the exit.
“Let’s move. Victor’s waiting.”
But the door hissed open, revealing towering figures ducking under the frame—bipeds with grotesque frog-like skin encased in chitinous exo-armour. They stood even taller than the doorway, likely augmented by their suits. Eva and her comrades backed away instinctively as alien weapons were raised.
A fourth being stepped in behind them, distinguished by a flowing cape and ornate plating etched with unknown sigils. The others deferred to it. The leader removed its helmet.
Its face was a fusion of nightmare: glossy, mucous-slick amphibian flesh, spines like quills sprouting from its scalp, and massive bulbous eyes, their irises eclipsing what should’ve been sclera. It bared a wide, lipless mouth filled with needle-thin teeth. The way it moved—like muscle sliding over broken glass—made Eva’s skin crawl.
“Hello, guestssss…” it hissed, ending its sentence with a guttural croak.
General Lennox looked like he might vomit but held firm.
“We were just leaving,” Eva said calmly, already scanning for a route out.
“Leaving… sooo soooon?” it mocked, stepping forward.
Eva summoned her weapon—M.J.O.L.N.I.R—materialising with a crackle of energy in her hand. She held it steady, unwavering.
“What are you?” she demanded.
The creature gave a low, wheezing chuckle.
“Ahh… humans. Faced with the unknown, you always ask. What are you? Always the same question. Delightful. We are the Spawn of Entropy. I am Ascaris.”
“You’re named after a roundworm?” Lennox asked, his face twisted in disbelief. “Did your parents hate you?”
Ascaris turned to him slowly.
“Roundworm? I am so much more. But yes… my parents hated me. It’s how we thrive—on hatred, on strife. It's our lifeblood. We exist to feast on our loathing for you—monkeys. You don’t deserve to evolve.”
With an effortless gesture, Ascaris extended one clawed hand. Eva was yanked forward and Schrödinger thrown back from her shoulder by an invisible force, suspended mid-air, choking. Her comrades froze, trapped by the same crushing pressure.
“You think you’re worthy of evolution?” he spat. “You’re nothing. Pathetic dreamers gnawing on your own filth. I’ve seen your future. You whine like pigs. Beg like the starving. Tear at each other like rabid dogs over scraps. Humanity consumes like parasites.”
Eva gasped, her windpipe constricting. She thrust M.J.O.L.N.I.R into his arm, sparks erupting on contact—but he didn’t flinch. In return, he seized her wrist and twisted. She screamed as bone strained to breaking.
“You are worthless beside us. You have value only as harvest.”
He leaned closer, opening his jaw wide, teeth gleaming.
“Our Mother shall return—drawn by your rejection of her.”
He lunged.
But before his teeth met flesh, a blast shook the chamber. The walls groaned and rippled as an explosion ruptured the far side of the ship.
Ascaris lost his grip, dropping Eva and her companions as he staggered back.
“Report!” he howled.
One of his soldiers projected a flickering holovid of Victor in the hangar bay. The footage showed him commandeering enemy drones, turning them against each other. Explosions spread like chain lightning—one detonation triggering another.
“Victor Neumann has escaped,” the soldier stammered. “He’s sabotaging the drone bay—igniting their weapons systems.”
Ascaris turned back toward his captives—but they were gone.
He hissed, furious.
“Find them.”
Then he glanced down. On the floor lay Eva’s M.J.O.L.N.I.R—left behind, gleaming and still warm.
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Schrödinger bounded down the corridor, Eva limp across his back, her comrades clinging on. Lieutenant and General Lennox fired their pistols over their shoulders—futile gestures that barely slowed the relentless Spawn behind them. One managed to leap onto Schrödinger’s flank, aiming its weapon at point-blank range.
In a flash, General Kazan unsheathed his katana and delivered a clean, lethal stroke, decapitating the creature before it could fire. The head hit the floor with a wet thud.
“OVER HERE!” Victor shouted, waving them toward a heavy blast door as explosions echoed throughout the vessel. Fire and debris raged through the halls, swallowing sector after sector of the Spawn ship.
Schrödinger surged forward with unrelenting power. Victor held the door open just long enough for them to slip through before slamming it shut behind them. He sprinted to the control panel and activated the teleportation sequence.
“Thank you, comrades, for dealing with our... pest problem,” he said breathlessly.
General Lennox exhaled with relief. Schrödinger, however, lowered his gaze—guilt etched into every muscle of his feline form. He had failed to protect Eva.
General Kazan placed a firm hand on his back. “She’ll be alright, Kitsune. She has the blood of the Rising Sun in her. We feast on our strongest enemies.”
“That’s a concept I can get behind!” boomed a voice behind them.
Ascaris stepped into the room by phrasing into them from the other side, sneering. He turned to Victor. “You’re inventive. I admire that. But you’ve become more trouble than you're worth.”
He grabbed Victor by the throat. The others fired, but their bullets bounced harmlessly off Ascaris's armour. With a grunt, he hurled Victor across the room, knocking the defenders into a tangled heap.
Ascaris advanced toward Eva, only to be intercepted by Schrödinger and General Kazan. The teleportation room’s doors flew open as more Spawn troops rushed in. Chaos erupted.
Schrödinger shielded Kazan from the gunfire while Kazan retaliated with brutal precision, cleaving down one Spawn after another. Limbs and heads piled on the floor, the katana growing dull from relentless use.
Ascaris suddenly appeared in front of Schrödinger and gently tapped the feline’s head with his horned, beetle-like fingers. Schrödinger froze, locked in stasis.
“How sad. Just a house cat, after all. No wonder they kept your kind as pets—you could never overthrow your masters. That is your fate.”
He sneered down at Schrödinger, unaware that Kazan, bloodied but still standing, seized the moment. With a cry, he drove his broken katana into Ascaris’s throat. The creature howled in agony.
Ascaris lashed out, flinging Kazan across the room. His wound sealed over in seconds. He laughed.
“I must applaud your pathetic effort. You kill my men—that’s impressive. For a human.”
He raised his hand. Eva floated into the air, unconscious, her body limp. Ascaris held her M.J.O.L.N.I.R in the other hand, examining it closely.
“There’s something… curious about this weapon. A trace of Her. Not of your world’s Bundle. Tell me what you know about the Mother. You were her sister, weren’t you?”
His voice cracked with fury as he uttered the final word. With rage boiling over, he drove the weapon against Eva’s forehead, slowly dragging it down toward her eye, then her cheekbone.
She screamed.
Her comrades fought against their restraints. Schrödinger growled, desperate to move, to protect her.
“TELL ME NOW, OR I’LL TEACH YOU SUFFERING BEYOND DEATH!” Ascaris bellowed.
“Sister... help me...” Eva whimpered.
The ship’s lights flickered, then died. A moment of complete darkness. A breath held. Then—illumination returned.
Ascaris hesitated. Eva’s remaining eye was wide, staring over his shoulder. He felt the presence before he heard the growl.
“Cat... you think you can save her?” he said without turning.
Suddenly, his arm was torn off at the elbow. Schrödinger had broken free and latched onto Ascaris, forcing him to release Eva. She dropped to the ground, clutching her face, blood trailing from the carved wound.
Her eye remained fixed—not on Schrödinger, but on what stood behind Ascaris.
Thorns burst from Ascaris's limbs. His body twisted violently as his senses distorted. The air rippled, the walls groaned. He was hurled across the room like a broken doll.
Spawn reinforcements arrived—only to be sealed inside as the walls bent inward and crushed them like paper. Screams echoed. A woman with crimson hair stood at the centre of it all.
She raised one hand and the floor shifted, revealing spinning blades. The Spawn fell in—and were shredded alive.
Above, the final wave of reinforcements descended. With a snap of her fingers, the red-haired woman warped the geometry of the room. Reality twisted. The invaders collapsed, distorted into crystal fragments, falling like raindrops into the floor—then gone.
Everything impossible became possible.
Ascaris, eyes wide with fury, overcharged his telekinesis. Bloodlust surged through him. He began crushing her arm, bone splintering.
She turned to him. Her gaze was infinite, eyes resembling galaxies.
“Braindead,” she whispered inside his head.
His vision went white. His thoughts stopped. His body—shredded, torn apart by her bare hands.
When the violence ceased, the woman—Starling—stood over what remained of him. Her expression: contempt.
“Constantine... you saved our skins,” Lennox said, squinting at her. “And what on earth are you wearing?”
“Sister... is that really you?” Eva asked, rising weakly. Starling rushed to her, wrapping her arms around her younger sister. Eva burst into tears.
“You disappeared on my sixth birthday. You promised me a Black Forest cake. With cherries.”
“I’m so sorry for leaving you to fend for yourself,” Starling whispered, pulling back to look at her. She smiled.
“Where did you go? Was I so annoying that you had to leave? Like Dad said?” Eva asked quietly.
“No, Eva. I never wanted to leave. I had to.”
“Then why didn’t you say goodbye?” Eva said, trying to accept the answers.
“Because it wasn’t goodbye. I knew... we’d meet again.”
Eva studied her face. “Your hair wasn’t red before. And your eyes—they look like Sailor Moon’s.”
“You’ve got a short-term memory,” Starling laughed gently. “A defence mechanism. My face wasn’t the important thing to remember.”
Eva cried harder.
“I have to wake her up,” Starling said, eyes hardening. “And it has to be in 2023.”
“Who? Wake who up?!” Eva hated her sister’s cryptic talk.
“El—” Starling began—but before she could finish, something drove through her chest and yanked her away into a portal.
Eva screamed and lunged to grab her, but her hands slipped. “NO! WHY NOW?!”
“We have to leave!” Victor shouted. “Starling’s attack destabilised the entire ship—it’s going to implode! Everyone to the teleportation disc!”
Schrödinger pulled Eva toward the disc as she thrashed in protest.
“Three! Two! One—”
With a flash of white light, they vanished.
Behind them, Ascaris’s shattered corpse twitched—its embedded camera transmitting footage inside his eye.
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“Set course for 2023.”
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Eva, Schrödinger, Victor, and their comrades landed hard on the cobbled streets of Berlin. The crash of their arrival was followed immediately by the sharp bark of a soldier’s voice:
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(“We’ve found them! Shoot! Don’t let the brats escape!”)
General Lennox groaned. “Oh, give me a break!”
He took off running, instincts sharpened by years of combat and far too many brushes with death. Behind him, Schrödinger—exhausted from his earlier battle—shrunk down into the form of a small domestic cat. The Lieutenant scooped a dazed Eva into his arms in a bridal carry, following the fleeing general. Kazan grabbed the feline and kept pace, Victor close behind.
The sharp, thunderous cadence of SS-Waffen boots thundered through the streets, echoing off the narrow alleyways. The soldiers were either closing in—or they had landed right in the middle of a patrol.
Lennox cursed under his breath. Navigating Berlin was not his strong suit. The twisting lanes had led them in circles. Suddenly, up ahead, they stumbled upon a horrific scene: a group of German soldiers encircling two children, who clung to each other in terror.
One of the soldiers shouted furiously, “You betray your Aryan blood by helping a filthy Jew! TRAITOR! DIE!”
He raised his rifle.
The generals froze—too far to intervene in time.
Victor stepped forward, but Kazan placed a firm hand on his chest, stopping him. “No. You’ll only get us all killed.”
The shot rang out.
Lennox hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ll be damned…”
But the shot never found its mark.
In a blur of white silk and steel, Constantine appeared—moving too quickly for the eye to follow. She tore through the soldiers like wind through paper, slicing them apart before any of them could scream. When it was over, silence returned to the street, save for the hum of distant machines.
Unlike the last time Eva had seen her, Constantine now wore a flowing white robe, her crimson hair cascading freely down her shoulders. She retracted her blade into the flesh of her wrist with surreal precision, then knelt and gently wrapped the children in her arms.
“Shhh… You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice a whisper of calm in a world gone mad.
Lifting the children effortlessly, she blinked into existence beside the huddled group behind a shattered wall. The sudden appearance startled them.
“Come with me. It’s not safe here.” Her eyes drifted to Eva, whose face still bore the carved wound from Ascaris. “What happened to her?”
“It’s a long story,” Lennox replied grimly.
“It certainly is,” Constantine muttered, her gaze shifting toward the centre of Berlin.
There, rising against the skyline, they saw them—hundreds of Spawn ships, dark silhouettes anchored above Nazi strongholds. The truth was unmistakable now. The Third Reich’s resurgence wasn’t just political or military.
It was extraterrestrial.
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