Vol. I, Part 3: Chapter 29

  Skyla gave up. The metal doors were sealed shut, controlled only by the console on the other side. She let off a series of short, uncontrolled breaths.

  “Damn it!” she cursed, giving one final, hollow bang against the metal.

  The team watched in uncomfortable silence as Skyla withdrew from the doors. She slid her back down the stone wall, pulling her knees up and resting her head against the rock.

  “I don’t understand,” Bianca said, her voice small in the cavern. “Why would she go in alone?”

  “Because she’s an idiot,” Skyla hissed. “She can be captured. Or worse.”

  “She did it to protect us,” Rosa defended, stepping forward from the group.

  “The only thing she wants to protect is her own ego,” Skyla shot back, staring at the ceiling. “And what? She uses Castform’s tragedy as justification for being self-righteous and yet she brings Castform with her straight into danger? She’s a hypocrite. Typical of her, I suppose.”

  “Enough!” Hugh shouted. “This hostility isn’t going to help her, or us.”

  Skyla let out a deep sigh. “There’s nothing we can do except sit and wait for her to return. You all might want to make yourselves comfortable.”

  The team exchanged looks, Skyla already resting her head back and closing her eyes. With nothing left to discuss, they settled into the wait.

  Nate returned Elekid back to his ball and sat against the wall, careful not to disturb his side as he moved. Riolu sat next to Nate, his legs spread out with feet pointed up, mimicking his Trainer’s posture.

  Rosa made her way over to Nate before he even got comfortable.

  “Hey, how’s the ice pack?” she asked, settling beside him quickly.

  The pack on his side had warmed up to the point where he had almost forgotten it was there. “I think it’s used up,” he said, pressing his hand against it.

  “Let me get you the other one. Riolu, would you mind giving me a hand?”

  Riolu obliged. They worked together to replace the pack.

  “I’m a little worried for Ms. Gabby,” Rosa said as she worked, keeping her eyes focused on the bandage.

  Nate felt the fresh cold relieve his ache. “Me too. But I’m less concerned about her and more so what she will find.”

  “It’s more than that. She’s not thinking straight. I’m afraid she might do something irrational.”

  “She’s just trying to do what she thinks is best,” Nate replied, though he wasn’t entirely convinced he was right.

  Rosa looked up from the ice pack, glancing over at Skyla, who was sitting silently with her eyes shut.

  Rosa lowered her voice. “Hugh said Skyla told you that Gabby had a ‘change of heart.’ What do you think she meant by that?”

  “I don’t know.” Nate shook his head. “She wouldn’t say.”

  “I think it has something to do with Castform.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just… a hunch.” Rosa bit her lip. “I think it’s time we asked her.”

  She stood up and offered a hand to help Nate up. He grabbed her hand, bracing his core, and carefully lifted himself up. They made their way to Skyla, who was unaware of their presence, or perhaps just ignoring it.

  “Skyla,” Nate began.

  She opened her eyes but didn’t move, eyeing them with a flat expression.

  “In the truck, you told Hugh and me about Gabby’s ‘change of heart.’ What did you mean by that?”

  “She became cold and heartless,” Skyla shrugged. She wasn’t very convincing. Nate could tell there was more to it. The pain in her voice was poorly masked by indifference.

  “But what caused that to happen?” Rosa interjected.

  Skyla shook head. “It’s a long story. I don’t want to get into it.” She closed her eyes again, shutting them out. There was no getting through to her. Nate and Rosa were about to head back when the shuffling of gravel stopped them.

  “What happened between you two?” Bianca pleaded. She had shot up from her seat to join Nate and Rosa. “You used to be good friends. Don’t you remember that?”

  Skyla scoffed, a harsh sound in the quiet. “Yeah… used to.”

  “Then what gives, huh?” Hilda joined in on the interrogation, crossing her arms. “Why are you so bitter towards her?”

  Hilbert, Hugh, and Cheren also gathered around. It was her versus all of them.

  “I think I speak for everyone here when I say this,” Cheren stepped up. “We’re all concerned about her. She’s our mentor. Please, tell us what happened.”

  Skyla pressed her lips into a thin line. She ran her hand over her face, her shoulders slumping as she stared at the blast doors for a moment. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You deserve to know.” She stood up, brushing gravel off her clothes. “I’m sure you’re all aware that Gabby used to work at the Weather Institute in Hoenn.”

  The team nodded collectively.

  “Castform was made there, along with others of its kind. The Weather Institute uses them for climate research. To Gabby, it was an injustice. Creating life only to serve humans.”

  She scanned the group. Nate kept his focus on her as she continued.

  “She loved her Castform. So much, that she quit her job and moved to Unova, in an effort to save Castform. She met with Professor Juniper, thinking she was different. That Juniper was the ‘ethical’ alternative to Pokémon research.”

  Skyla turned to face the blast doors, as if to see Gabby standing there, waiting for them. “I used to fly Cedric Juniper around the region. Gabby would come along. We were close. Really close. But something changed in Gabby. Something broke her.”

  “The accident with Castform,” Bianca said softly.

  Skyla nodded. “Yes.”

  Shadows cast long over Skyla's face as her expression hardened. “The night before I flew Cedric to Sinnoh, Gabby begged me to cancel. She wanted me to cut ties with the Junipers. She said that they were no better than the people she fled from the Weather Institute. At first, I thought she was just grieving and looking for someone to blame. But then, she started saying things that… they didn’t sound like her.”

  Skyla’s voice began to shake. “She said people are vicious and cruel. That every lab, every Trainer, every experiment was the same crime. That people don’t deserve Pokémon. She asked me, ‘How can we claim to love them if we keep hurting them?’”

  Skyla’s voice cracked. She looked down at her hands, clenching them tight.

  "I didn't know what to say. I was scared for her. So... I lashed out. I yelled at her, calling her a hypocrite because she was complicit in Juniper’s experiments. I told her if she really believed what she was saying, she wouldn’t blame anyone but herself."

  Skyla brushed the back of her hand over her eyes, her anger dissolving into sorrow. "I shouldn't have said that. She was hurt, desperate for someone to tell her she wasn't a monster. And I just pushed her further into the dark."

  She sat back down, back against the wall. “That was the last time we really spoke. I don’t think she ever got over it.”

  “Then why is she still working for Juniper?” Hugh asked.

  “I don’t know…” Skyla replied. “Maybe, deep down, she knows Juniper isn’t to blame. Maybe she’s trying to make up for her own mistakes. But ever since then, she hasn’t been the same.”

  “I still don’t get why she ran in there without us. It just doesn’t make any sense,” Hilbert commented.

  Skyla shrugged weakly. “Like I said, she’s an idiot.”

  Nate felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see Riolu staring at the blast door, his ears drooping low.

  “It hurts,” Riolu projected, his voice low in Nate’s mind, like a whisper in an empty room.

  “What hurts?” Nate asked his partner.

  “Gabby’s aura. Before she left, it felt like she was drowning. I felt her worries, her anger, and a sense of duty.”

  “Duty? You mean duty to protect us?”

  Riolu looked up, his words sounding clearly in Nate’s mind. “Yes. I think above everything, she acts in service of the team. She came here to keep everyone safe. She has fulfilled her duty by keeping you out.”

  Riolu looked down at the rocky ground. “But beyond that, I felt conflict. One part of her wanted to stay. The other part, the stronger part, felt she had no choice.”

  Nate pieced it together with Skyla’s story. “She must still be hurting from Castform’s accident. Finding a facility that exploits Pokémon, must feel like looking in a mirror.”

  “That’s precisely what I think.” Riolu responded. “Going in alone is penance for her. She locked that door because she believes she is the only one who should carry the burden of what is inside.”

  Nate nodded. It fit perfectly. The blaming, the coldness, the separation, it was all a defense mechanism for a woman broken by guilt.

  “She’s trying to fix it,” Nate said aloud.

  The team turned to him.

  “Fix what?” Skyla asked.

  “Her past,” Nate explained, realizing he spoke out loud. “I think you’re right, Skyla. Deep down, she blames herself for Castform. She went in there because she thinks she has to face this alone to make up for what she did.”

  “So, she’s playing the martyr,” Hilda scoffed, though she looked at the door with a hint of concern. “Great. She goes in alone to prove a point while we sit here in the dirt.”

  “We’ll wait for her,” Cheren said firmly. “She said she’s scouting. We give her time to do her job. If there’s a threat in there, she’ll come back and brief us. Then we go in together.”

  They sat on the ground for another twenty minutes. Time seemed to move slowly in the silent cave. The occasional spark would sound off, and Nate could still feel the faint breeze coming from the top of the tunnel. He felt tired, very tired. He had no idea what time it was, but he guessed it was getting close to evening. The world outside was only a few hundred yards up the tunnel, and yet it felt impossibly distant.

  His eyes began to drift shut. His head bobbed, looking for a place to rest, but he forced himself awake. He needed to be ready.

  A heavy hiss of depressurization echoed through the tunnel. The steel blast doors slid apart.

  Gabby stepped out of the red light of the corridor, Castform floating behind her.

  Nate and the rest of the team immediately shot up, looking at the disheveled woman before them.

  She stopped in the doorway, looking at the group with an unreadable expression.

  “I’m back,” she said simply.

  “Did you find anything?” Skyla blurted out.

  Gabby twitched her lip, emotionless and direct. “Yes. And no.”

  Confused looks scattered about the team, as if trying to mentally decipher Gabby’s cryptic response.

  “Care to explain, Gabby?” Hilda asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

  “If you’re looking for a culprit,” Gabby said, darting at Hilda. “I’m afraid you won’t find any. The facility is empty.”

  “Empty? That’s impossible! Who mined out the stones? Who dumped the corpses into the lake?” Skyla shouted.

  “However,” Gabby turned to address Skyla. “They left their machine behind. Fully operational.”

  “Machine?” Nate repeated. “You mean the weapon?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Gabby shook her head. “It’s hardly a weapon.”

  “I don’t understand,” Skyla said softly. “What could do something like that if it’s not a weapon.”

  Gabby gestured for her to step through the doorway. Castform drifted slightly to the side, allowing them passage. “Perhaps you should see for yourself.”

  Skyla entered the threshold, keeping her eye on Gabby until she passed her.

  Gabby turned to the rest of the team. “You should all come as well,” she said genuinely. “You deserve to see it.”

  The transition from the stony cave into the sleek, metallic facility was surreal. They followed Skyla into the corridor, Gabby and Castform trailing at the rear.

  They reached a viewing hall where a wall of thick, reinforced glass separated them from the heart of the mountain.

  Beyond the glass was a vast, cylindrical chamber, bored straight into the earth. The inner walls were lined with reinforced steel and thick, black cabling dug into the mountain and connected to the massive structure in the center.

  It was a pylon constructed of metal and chrome, standing over thirty feet tall. Inside the pylon, in a cavity just at the base, a sphere of violet-blue plasmic energy distorted the very space around it. Above the core, three translucent rings spun in silence, carrying a glowing violet fluid at supersonic speeds.

  “What is that?” Nate whispered.

  “It feels… heavy,” Hugh muttered, rubbing his chest.

  “No,” Cheren corrected, taking a step forward. “It’s the opposite. Look at the core, the distortion.”

  Nate peered into the blue of the pulsating core. It was hard to keep an eye on it without feeling dizzy, but through the warping of space, he could see dust, rock, and scraps of metal floating weightlessly. It was creating its own localized gravity.

  “It’s a propulsion system,” Gabby stated, her voice cold.

  “What?” Skyla exclaimed. “You mean an engine? I’ve seen plenty of thrusters, but nothing like this.”

  “It’s a gravimetric stator,” Gabby said, turning from the window. Castform hovered closer to her, a smile plastered to its face. “An anti-gravity prototype. It’s drawing power from the mountain’s magnetic field to generate lift. Those spinning rings can create their own gravity.”

  She stepped away from the window, and continued down the passage. “We need to shut it down. A surge in the mountain’s charge could lead to another EMP blast.”

  “And how are we going to do that?” Hilda asked.

  “There’s a control deck on the ground floor. Let’s keep moving.”

  They followed Gabby down the corridor and through the doorway leading into the chamber. They were atop a plateau, with a staircase leading down to the main level. The ceiling was high, and fluorescent lights lit up the entire area, creating a jarring contrast between the white lights and the blue pulsating core in the pylon’s center.

  They walked down the long flight of stairs and into the main walkway. It was a chaotic scattering of workstations all out in the open with control consoles, desks with test equipment, computers, switchboards, and generators. It looked like it needed over a dozen people to operate, and yet, it was completely abandoned.

  “One of these is the master terminal,” Gabby said, scanning the room.

  Nate was drawn by the spectacle. It reminded him of Juniper’s lab, cluttered and disorganized, but stripped of all warmth. Almost as if someone had just recently been down here and left in a hurry.

  “Ms. Gabby,” Rosa’s voice called out from somewhere in the chaos. “What are these?”

  Nate followed her voice. She sounded frightened.

  He found her staring at rows of cylindrical, glass tanks. There were over forty of them, each fitted with dangling wires and neural probes. Thick cables snaked from the tops of the tanks directly into the floor, feeding the machine.

  Nate met Rosa’s eyes, filled with worry. The rest of the team gathered, staring at the columns of what appeared to be glass cages for test subjects.

  “Cells,” Gabby stated.

  “Cells,” Rosa repeated. “Like, prison cells?”

  Gabby shook her head. “Like cells in a battery.”

  Nate knelt at the base of the nearest glass tube and read the brass plaque screwed into the side: Galvantula.

  “Galvantula,” Nate read aloud, his stomach twisting. “This cell was for Galvantula.”

  “This one says Eelektross,” Hugh called out from the next row.

  “What does that mean?” Bianca squealed.

  “They were using Pokémon,” Nate realized. “Living batteries. They drained them to power the engine.”

  “So that’s what we saw in the lake,” Hilbert exclaimed. “They were dumping their bodies once they’ve used them up.”

  “But where are they?” Rosa asked. “These cells are empty.”

  “Evacuated, most likely,” Gabby replied.

  She darted off towards a cluster of terminals. She hunched over the keyboard and began typing. “This is it, the master terminal. I can initiate the shutdown from here.”

  She pointed to a set of heavy levers on the wall behind the console. “Skyla, I need you to disengage the shutdown interlocks.”

  “Disengage the interlocks?” Skyla asked, stepping up to the wall. “Is that safe?”

  “I can't cycle the power down while the brakes are on. We have no choice,” Gabby replied.

  Skyla stepped up to the wall, grabbing the first lever and yanking it down.

  A mechanized voice played over the intercom.

  System Alert: Shutdown Interlock: Deactivated.

  “Good,” Gabby said, her eyes fixated on the screen. “The rest of you, look for any clues that might help us figure out what’s going on here.”

  The team dispersed. Nate scoured desks for anything that might be relevant. Riolu helped by shifting through documents and inspected drawers. He found a small, black journal tucked away in a mess of equipment and blueprints.

  “What’s that you got there?” Nate asked his partner.

  “Looks like a journal…”

  The moment Riolu attempted to open the journal, he let out a sharp grunt of pain, immediately dropping it to the floor.

  “ARGH!”

  “Riolu!” Nate reacted in his mind.

  “The aura in the journal. What… what’s happening?” Riolu brought both paws to his head, clutching it as if to suppress a migraine.

  Riolu fell to his knees on the industrial grating, grunting loudly.

  “Riolu, what happened?”

  “I see… something… I hear… voices… AHHH!”

  Riolu shouted loudly, spasming on the floor, fighting back an invisible enemy while he laid on his back, flailing his arms.

  “Make it stop!” Riolu screamed in Nate’s mind.

  Nate began to panic, shouting Riolu’s name. The commotion drew the attention of everyone around him.

  “Riolu tell me what’s going on?” Nate’s mind raced with panic as he helplessly watched his partner struggle. He dropped to his knees next to his partner.

  Riolu’s eyes shot wide open, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks.“They’re here! I can feel them! We’re not alone!”

  Nate looked around the room. There was no one in the facility except the team. “Who’s here?”

  “Them! Don’t let them take me! I can’t go back!”

  Nate’s mind flashed. He was instantly transported to a blurry room. He couldn’t see the details, but the light was blindingly white. It was all a haze. Any attempt to focus on one detail caused his head to spin. He heard a voice. A man’s voice. Soothing, gentle, elegant, yet terrified him to his core.

  “Subject shows promising results,” the voice echoed in Nate’s mind. “More testing is required.”

  Nate grunted. He felt a physical weight pierce his body like a shadow materializing into solid matter within his psyche.

  The voice spoke again. Sharper, clearer. “Your mind, your power, look within. Unlock your truest potential.”

  “Nate!”

  The images faded. He was back in the cavern. Hilda was at his side, holding him upright. Nate had fallen backward, gasping for air. He looked over and saw Rosa cradling a now unconscious Riolu.

  “What happened to you?” Hilda asked, her face tight with worry.

  “Hilda,” Nate gasped. The return to the physical world felt like a punch in the gut. He struggled to regain his breath. “Riolu… Is he alright?”

  “He’s asleep,” Rosa replied.

  “Did Riolu say something to you?” Hilda whispered.

  Nate looked at Rosa who was gently stroking Riolu’s head. She clearly didn’t hear Hilda.

  “He said, ‘we’re not alone,’” Nate whispered back. “Someone is here, watching us.”

  Hilda pressed her lips together, taking a quick glance around the cavern. “There’s no one here. Only us.”

  “I also had a vision.”

  “The same kind of vision you had with Deerling?”

  Nate shook his head. “No. It wasn’t like that at all. There was this man. He was… experimenting on me.”

  Hilda frowned. “On you? You mean from Riolu’s eyes?”

  “I don’t know. It was blurry. I’m not even sure if it was real.”

  Hilda stood up, offering her hand to help Nate up to his feet.

  He reached into his belt and grabbed Riolu’s ball. “Thanks for looking after Riolu for me,” he told Rosa.

  “Of course,” she replied softly.

  He recalled Riolu safely to his Poké Ball.

  “Why did Riolu start freaking out like that?” Hugh asked, looking intently at his friend.

  “It was right after he grabbed that,” Nate pointed to the black journal on the floor.

  They all looked at it as if it was radioactive. Cheren apprehensively stepped forward and grabbed it off the floor, setting it down on a desk and opening it up.

  He scanned the entries, his eyes darting across the pages as he read through. “It’s a logbook,” he stated.

  He picked it up and began reading aloud:

  “The Resonance Failure: The initial energization of the repulsor was a spectacular failure. I attempted to use the cave's natural electromagnetic resonance as the primary power lead, utilizing a disorganized cluster of the local population: Galvantula, Eelektross, Zebstrika as a biological bridge. The bridge was initially a success. However, it proved to be too volatile. A single specimen, Zebstrika, fell out of sync, turning the cave’s energy against us. It is likely its biological connection with its heartbeat to electrical output was the culprit. A single spike in current, caused by an elevated heart rate from fear, had devastating consequences. The resulting EMP blast was absolute, tearing beyond the cave and out into the environment. Local wildlife suffered immensely. The surge incinerated the nervous systems of the larger specimens instantly. The smaller organisms survived, though it is likely they will collapse. A pitiful and wasteful expenditure of resources. I hate to see the potential of so many creatures be frivolously thrown away to rot.”

  “The anomaly,” Hugh stated. “This is how it started.”

  “There’s more to it,” Cheren said. He continued reading:

  “Refinement of the Conduits: To sustain the gravity field, the cave’s power must be filtered through a disciplined current. Zebstrika’s heart rate has already caused an unprecedented disaster. I have requested a replacement species, specifically Ampharos, for a more stable output. Ampharos possess biological structures engineered for high-output tension. Phase two begins with the integration of these high-capacity conduits.”

  Nate felt the world crashing down on him.

  Ampharos.

  Surely this was a coincidence. Could this journal entry be linked to Ellie’s Ampharos?

  Nate looked at Hugh to see if he was thinking the same thing, but Hugh stared intently at Cheren, listening to the soul-crushing words of the journal.

  Cheren flipped the page:

  “The Singularity Problem: The Ampharos conduits are a success. The prototype engine has achieved a sustained hover. However, two critical issues have manifested: First, the thermal load. Standard cooling is proving insufficient. Our maximum power is limited by thirty percent. Second, while Chargestone Cave provides the magnitude of power required, it is stationary. To achieve our goal, we need autonomy. We cannot rely on the Pokémon conduits alone once we leave this geological battery. We require a portable, high-density energy singularity. I must seek a power source that is as mobile as it is infinite. I believe the answer to both of these problems lies not with an engineering marvel, but in Absolute Zero.”

  “That was the last entry,” Cheren said, looking up from the journal.

  “Cheren, what was that line about Ampharos?” Nate asked in a panic.

  Cheren looked back down, skimming through the entries. “It says, ‘I have requested a replacement species, specifically Ampharos, for a more stable output.’”

  Nate swallowed hard. “Hugh… Ellie’s Ampharos.”

  Hugh stared at him, eyes wide. “You don’t think Team Plasma is behind all this, do you?”

  “Team Plasma?” Hilbert interjected. “There’s no way that a criminal gang could be responsible for something as sophisticated as this.”

  “Think about it,” Nate responded. “The timeline fits. After the first attempt, they needed more powerful Electric-types. Team Plasma was at the ranch after the electric Pokémon were already sick.”

  Cheren stepped forward. “So, you’re suggesting that Ampharos’s capture wasn’t a coincidence.”

  Nate shook his head. “It was planned.”

  Hugh met Nate’s eyes, fixating on his words. “Whoever is behind all this must be working with Team Plasma.”

  “It’s a shoddy lead,” Cheren tapped his chin. “But it’s the best piece of evidence we have.”

  INTRUDER DETECTED. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS.

  The sound of a siren rattled off the steel walls of the cavern. The noise pierced Nate’s ears deeply, causing him to flinch and cover his ears.

  Automatic Protective Action: Disabled. Initiating Power Recovery.

  The vibrating hum of the pylon started screaming. The distortion around the core twisted violently, no longer a visual trick but a tear in the fabric of the room. Light bent around it like water down a drain.

  System at Five-Zero Percent.

  An alarm blared off at Gabby’s terminal. The pulsating red light blinked furiously. Throughout the cavern, more alarms went off. The sound was deafening.

  “Gabby! What’s going on?” Skyla shouted from across the room.

  Gabby was slamming her hands against the console, her usual composure shattered. “The system is compromised!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “It’s locked me out! It’s trying to prevent a hard shutdown, but it’s stuck in a feedback loop. Power is rising uncontrollably!”

  Gabby abandoned the terminal, Castform sticking close by. “Everyone out! We have minutes before the whole system overloads!”

  She corralled the team, pushing them towards the staircase that led to the exit.

  System Critical at One-Five-Zero Percent.

  A loud bang shook the foundations of the mountain. A shockwave of blue and violet electricity erupted from the pylon, arcing across the room like lightning seeking ground. It slammed into the walls, destroying steel plating instantly.

  “Watch out!” Skyla cried from the rear.

  A chunk of steel came crashing down, hitting the ground right before the team. They stopped dead in their tracks, the steel missing Hilda and Hilbert by a few feet.

  System Super Critical at Two Hundred Percent.

  “Why does it keep gaining power?” Skyla yelled over the roar of crashing machinery.

  “The interlock! It’s causing the feedback loop!” Cheren roared, shielding his face from a shower of sparks raining down from the ceiling. “Skyla, reset the brakes!”

  “Forget the brakes! There’s no time!” Gabby cried out. She grabbed Skyla’s wrist to guide her toward the exit.

  “I can do it!” Skyla shouted back.

  She scrambled backward toward the wall, slipping out of Gabby’s grasp.

  “Skyla! No!” Gabby shouted. She ran to Skyla, her face riddled with panic. She desperately fought her way to Skyla.

  Skyla pushed through the main walkway, but the air itself seemed to fight her, thick with static and pressure. The sound of winding machinery escalated, the pitch climbing higher and higher. Plasma leaked from the tubes as the system started to hiss and crack.

  System Prompt Critical at Three-Five-Zero Percent.

  Skyla reached for the lever on the wall. She gripped the metal, bracing her boots against the floor to yank it down.

  A massive arc of violet lightning discharged from the core. It struck the control box next to Skyla’s hand. The box exploded in a shower of sparks and molten slag. Skyla was thrown backward by the concussion, hitting the metal floor hard.

  “Get out of here! Go!” Gabby shrieked to the rest of the group. She lunged for Skyla, hauling her to her feet with desperate strength.

  The team darted for the staircase, but the world around them began to shift.

  They were thrown to the ground, a violent force pulling them towards the core. The violet light from the core reached out, warping the air. Nate tried digging his heels in, but he skidded along the grating. Loose pens, papers, and equipment flew off the desks, violently sucked into the core, crushed into nothingness in a flash of light. The entire facility seemed to be collapsing in on the single point.

  "Hold on to something!" Cheren screamed, but his voice sounded distant, warped by the bending atmosphere.

  Everything moved too fast. The pull into the core intensified. But suddenly, the physics shifted. Nate's stomach twisted into a knot of vertigo. He was being lifted upward.