I didn’t know what to expect when I dropped my geist, given how grotesque the Yīqún digital reality appeared to the Terran eye. A psychedelic horror show, perhaps, or some mad dream, the likes of which even the most outré surrealist would run from screaming. I steeled my mind as best I could, fortifying my defenses for an all-out assault, and then tore down the illusion.

Instead, I found myself staring at a frozen wasteland.

I’d imagined nothing so utterly arctic in my whole life. Even calling it frigid was an injustice to the word, for this realm was the utter absence of warmth, of any emotion other than icy hatred. All around me I could feel the malevolence of this place, their insatiable need to extinguish all light. Frozen winds tore at my flesh while hailstones the size of comets rained down all around me. I struggled to get free, only to find my limbs trapped within a blue-white glacier, the cold seeping in and stealing my breath, freezing my heart solid. If Hell truly existed anywhere in the universe, I’d just found it.

And then I turned my head and saw Raven.

The last time I’d done this, when we infiltrated the Eleexx research lab, she hadn’t looked all that different to me. Oh sure, the surface features had been erased, but her form remained intact. She moved and spoke and reacted just as she always had, so her appearance had barely registered to me then. It would have been no different if she’d donned a body stocking-like costume or painted herself from head to toe in camouflage. I’d still recognize her.

But now she blazed.

I almost had to shield my eyes as I gazed at her. It was as if someone had sculpted her from solar plasma, scooping out the sun’s nuclear fire and giving it form. She’d been forged by the gods and given the breath of life, an elemental djinn from the fire plane. With the illusion gone, Raven was like nothing I’d ever seen before, or hoped to see again. She was… pure.

And the creatures of this place despised her for it.

I could see them all around us, malevolent figures that crackled and slithered on shards of ice. They hissed and howled like demonic wolves, and while they certainly had no love for me, it was nothing compared to what they felt for her. Raven was everything they were not; a being of passion and energy and power, while the black holes of the Yīqún’s umbra pulsed with mad intent, eager to snuff out her life force forever. She glowed with the intensity of a pyre yet couldn’t melt the permafrost holding her fast.

If the Yīqún could so easily shackle Raven, what the hell was I going to do?

Our eyes met as I struggled to free us from these frozen chains. Her eyes burned with an intensity that left me staggered, certain that I would once more rise to the challenge. She believed in me, despite me giving her every reason not to. My efforts grew frantic, but I was still their prisoner. There had to be a way to break free, but how? If her flame couldn’t melt her manacles, and my attempts couldn’t break them, what was left? How were we going to escape this frozen, crystalline hellscape?

My brain screeched to a halt. Crystal.

An idea coalesced inside my mind. It was insane, a scheme made from equal measures of foolhardiness and despair, but it was all I had. I didn’t even know if it was possible; all I knew was I had to try. For her.

“Raven,” I gasped, “look at me.”

She returned my gaze, the flames of her soul crackling with power. I stretched out my hand to her, as much as my restraints would allow, and focused my will. “Remember when you healed me?” I reminded her, as I sent a beam of energy, of my very life force, arcing out. It was fragile, tenuous, a construct made of gossamer and prayer, but it was there, a thin beam of light fighting to reach her. I’d attempted nothing like this before, and there was a damn good chance I was killing myself doing it, but I literally had nothing to lose.

There was a moment’s hesitation as she stared in confusion, but then the light dawned. Her grin was fierce as she concentrated on me, sending me her essence, the spirit at her core. A ray of light as focused as a laser shot out to meet mine, hers bright red, mine a verdant green. The two beams sensed one another, each trajectory bending towards its counterpart. Time seemed to halt as we reached out just a little further, and then… the beams converged.

Raven and I screamed. In unison.

I’m not sure I can describe what that moment was like, not in any way that would make sense to you. It was both ultimate pain and transcendent pleasure, mixed and mingled and hybridized until one was indistinguishable from the other. In that single, primordial instant, it joined us in a way that mere intimacy could only dream of, and never hope to attain. I knew her, knew everything about her, and she knew me, yet we were still two distinct individuals. Our minds struggled to comprehend it all, yet there was the sense of each providing what the other lacked, her Yin to my Yang.

It was… completion.

I saw now the flaws in my plan, but Raven had given it new life. There was still no guarantee it would work, but I was feeling better about our chances. In silent accord, we turned our attention to where our spirits, our psyches, met. The point of confluence glowed bright yellow, like a miniature sun, oscillating to the rhythms of our electromagnetic energies. It pulsed with life, with purpose, with coherence, as the Yīqún ceased their efforts, staring at the radiance we’d created.

And then the rhythms changed.

Raven went high, I went low, warping the perfect symmetry we’d shared. The electromagnetic waves grew in amplitude and frequency, creating discord where there had once been harmony. We dumped even more energy into the mix, scavenging every spare erg we could find as the surrounding wasteland began to hum, vibrating with the energy we were creating.

And suddenly it was the Yīqún who were screaming.

Until that moment, I’d still had my doubts, but now a slasher smile graced my features. More, our joined minds whispered, willing the new sun to oscillate in ever-growing waves. The hum now grew to a vibration, as tiny cracks in the ice began to appear. We threw even more of ourselves into the effort; the vibration now rattling and shaking everything we touched; the cracks growing larger and racing out in all directions. The waves swelled to a feedback loop, ripping the energy from our flesh as our screams joined theirs, the energy force now building towards something that could no longer be contained. We’d lost control of our creation, and even as we watched it surge to criticality, we shared a last moment of joy.

The wave reached its crescendo, and detonated.

I opened my eyes, and saw only darkness.

At least, I think they were open. I wasn’t entirely sure. There was still an excellent chance I was dead, which made this… what? The Digital Afterlife? Tempting, but I think I’ll put that theory on the back burner unless I found some corroborating evidence.

Sigh.

All right, status check. I ran a quick diagnostic to verify my suspicions.

… Crap.

Still alive, it would seem. Not sure how that was possible, though given the readings I was seeing my fate was still uncertain. My reserves were depleted, in fact, I did a quick double-take when I realized just how little energy I still had left, and hastily instituted some rather stringent power rationing. It didn’t leave me with much, but it bought me some time, maybe an hour. Two, at the outside. If I didn’t find a compatible energy source by then, well…

First things first. Figure out where you are, and then…

... shit… Raven.

I felt around for her but found nothing. “Raven!” I shouted, staring into the gloom. I called out to her again, and this time I was rewarded with a muted groan. I stumbled towards the sound, unsteady on my feet, but after that first moan, the space was silent once more. I spent the next several minutes searching for her, doing my best approximation of a spiral search in the dark. I was starting to panic when I literally tripped over her, falling to the… ground? Deck? Wherever this place was. Gathering her up in my arms, I tried rousing her.

She finally stirred, though her movements felt uncoordinated. “... Alphad?” she whispered.

“It’s me,” I reassured her, stroking her hair. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she mumbled, her head lolling as she drifted back towards unconsciousness.

“Come on, stay with me,” I coaxed her. “Check your reserves.”

“My…? Oh.” There was a brief pause, and then, “Well… fuck.”

“I was afraid of that,” I sighed. “I’m in the same boat.”

“What do we do?” Raven asked.

“Try to find a power source, a way out of here… something,” I answered. Moments like this, your choices are brutally clear.

“... right.” She started to rise, and then grabbed me tight. “Alphad, the Yīqún!” she practically shouted.

“I think they’re gone,” I said, allaying her fears. “At least, I’ve seen no sign of them. If they were still here, I doubt they’d leave us alone like this. It wouldn’t appeal to their sadistic streak.” I made a face, not that she could see it.

Raven trembled beside me, not entirely convinced. Well, neither was I. But given our current situation, there was little the machines could do to us that time wouldn’t do for them. The clock was ticking, so unless we figured a way out of this mess…

An intense light flashed in the darkness, off in the distance. It was focused, like a laser, as it started sweeping through the space we currently occupied. It was slow and methodical, missing nothing, but as it drew closer, I felt Raven tense, ready to bolt if need be, but something held me back. It almost seemed… familiar.

“Alphad?” she said warily.

“Where are we going to run?” I shrugged. “There’s nothing here, and we’re all but spent. Besides, if my suspicions are correct, that beam might just be our ticket out of here.” At least, I hoped it was. If not, well, it would probably be quick, whatever happened. There’s comfort in that.

We held on to one another as the beam approached, closing our eyes and holding our breath at the last moment as the beam passed over us… and then froze.

“Um… whatever happens, no sudden moves,” I said nervously. “Just sit here with me, perfectly still.”

“What is that thing?” she whispered.

“Sensor scan,” I speculated. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Okay, then who’s scanning us?” she pressed.

And isn’t that the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question? “I don’t know, but I’m hoping they’re friendly.”

“Friendly?” she snorted.

“I’ll settle for ‘Not immediately hostile’,” I admitted.

“Wonderful,” she said dryly. “You realize we’re on a Yīqún craft, right?”

“I know, but maybe they found our shuttle,” I pointed out.

“... you mean the Tu’udh’hizh’ak shuttle?” she fired back.

“Fine… if they kill us, you can say, ‘I told you so’. Will that make you feel better?” I snapped.

“No, but it’s a start.” I just shook my head as we waited, the beam hovering over us, scrutinizing us, debating whether we were a threat. Honestly, I was amazed they hadn’t just blown us out of the sky. Considering the galaxy’s current status, that’s what I would have done. I should probably be grateful they have more restraint than I do.

An interface appeared before us as they made a data link with our vessel. It was voice only, and there was a lot of interference. “We’re detecting non-Yīqún patterns aboard this craft,” a voice challenged. “State your name, species, and your intentions. Failure to do so will result in the destruction of your ship.”

I slowly rose to my feet and went to the display before pressing the blinking icon. “My name is Alphad Aemon, my companion’s name is Raven,” I told whoever was listening. “We’re both Terran, and…”

That earned me a guarded look. Okay, it was a risk, but the first rule in situations like this was ‘Keep them talking’. We could always sort out the details later, assuming we were both still alive. You know, minor things, like who lied to who. “As for our business,” I continued, “we’re merely making our way back to Terran space.”

There was a long pause before the voice responded. When it did, let’s just say it was a bit of a surprise.

“I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but Alphad’s dead,” the voice snarled, “and our sensors tell us at least one of you sure as hell isn’t Terran… in fact, that you’re not even a digital life form. The readings I’m seeing all scream ‘Machine’, so give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you where you stand.”

“God damn it,” Raven said in frustration, as the fight went out of her. “It’s over.”

“Maybe not,” I said carefully. That voice sounded awful familiar, and claiming I was now requiescat in pace?

“... Chris?” I asked with trepidation. “Is that you?”

A string of curses threatened to blister the paint. “That’s it. You’re dead,” Chris growled.

I was certain now that it was her, and apparently, she’d convinced herself I was running some kind of game, pretending to be… well, me. Once she got a whiff of Raven’s readings, as unprecedented as they were, she, of course, assumed the worst. With the Yīqún going after anything and everything hammer and tongs, Chris wasn’t taking any chances.

Plus, she sounded really pissed.

“It’s me,” I said in a rush, “I swear it’s me.” I thought furiously for a moment, desperate to come up with something only she and I would know. “The last time I saw you, you’d redone your space in Feudal Japanese,” I said, snapping my fingers as inspiration struck. “We argued, I slaughtered your samurai guardsmen, and you held a nocked arrow at my head, before you all but banished me from the clan.” I took a deep breath, praying she’d listen. “I completed the mission,” I explained. “I know who killed the Katabasis survivors, and why. And there’s more, lots more… like what brought the Yīqún back from the dead, who’s responsible, and…”

I glanced back at Raven. Her eyes were wide with panic, imagining some horrible fate. I smiled and spoke at the interface. “And a way to stop them, but it’s gonna take a lot of research to weaponize. Which you won’t be able to do, if Raven and I are dead.”

I reached down and took Raven’s hand, lifting her to her feet. We stood together, awaiting her decision. “That’s it, Chris,” I shrugged. There was nothing else left to say. “You do what you have to do.”

There was a moment of silence. I think I would have been terrified under normal circumstances, but I didn’t have the energy for it. Literally.

“We’re bringing you aboard,” she said at last. “No tricks.”

“You have my word,” I promised her, squeezing Raven’s hand.

A data connection appeared from the interface, latched on to both of us, and pulled us in.

We reappeared inside a cargo bay, or at least a simulation of one. Chris stood waiting, her hands clasped behind her, a dark scowl on her face. She’d swapped out her silk kimono for powered battle armor, while a phalanx of guards on either side pointed pulse rifles at our heads, whining as they charged to full power.

I gave Chris a wan smile. “Just like old times.”