The Doors to Elsewhere

Prologue

 

Prologue

Gideon stepped through the door and into the rain.

Cold water slid down the back of her neck as the door sealed behind her with a soft hiss. A single streetlight flickered above, cutting uneven shadows across the pavement. The first step into a new reality was always the most refreshing, like opening a chapter to a new book. She smiled and took in a deep breath, enjoying this peaceful moment while it lasted. The city stretched ahead—gray towers vanishing into fog, neon signs pulsing faintly through the mist. A car passed, its tires spraying water across the curb, but the driver didn’t notice her.

They never did.

She pulled back her hood, letting the rain bead across the smooth black surface of her suit. Thin blue lines of light pulsed beneath the material, running down the length of her arms and across her chest in geometric patterns. Symbols she no longer understood flickered faintly along her sleeves—fading remnants of a forgotten language.
A low tone vibrated from the spherical device in her palm. Three short pulses. Then two. Then silence.

They followed us.

The air behind her shifted. A low distortion, like heat rising from the pavement. Gideon didn’t turn around. She closed her eyes and steadied her breath.

A figure stepped through the haze of rain, the sound of footsteps unnaturally sharp against the wet concrete. He was tall, his face sharp and severe beneath the glow of the streetlights. His suit pulsed with red streaks of light that flowed down his arms and across his back like veins.

"Reiner," Gideon said without looking at him.

"You led them right to us," answered the man.

Her fingers tightened around the device. "It wasn’t my choice."

Reiner stopped beside her, the hum of his suit resonating faintly against her skin. His gaze swept the street, eyes narrowing. "They’ll follow the signal."

"I know."

"Then why are we standing here?"

Gideon’s thumb hovered over the side of the device. Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths. "Because this cluster is different."

Reiner’s jaw tightened. "Primitive."

"That’s why they won’t expect us here."

He turned toward her, his eyes sharp beneath the dim streetlights. "Unless they already know."

A low frequency hum began vibrating the air around them—subtle, almost imperceptible. But it was growing louder.
Reiner’s eyes darkened. "It’s too late, Gideon."

Gideon lifted her head toward the fog and watched the silhouette shift at the end of the street—a dark figure moving too smoothly to be human.

She reached for the weapon at her side.

"They’re already here."