“What is that?!”

  Xiao and Shi tore through the sky, the world a blur beneath them, when a blinding white beam erupted on the horizon. It didn’t just pierce the clouds—it annihilated them, vaporizing layer after layer in a single, merciless stroke. The light was so fierce it seared their retinas, leaving afterimages that pulsed behind their eyelids. The beam speared upward, impossibly bright, until it vanished into the starless void above, as if it meant to split the heavens themselves.

  A blue holographic screen flickered to life before Shi’s right eye, casting a cold, electric glow across his face. The hard glare of the beam was reflected in his silver-flecked golden pupil, wide with dread. “What’s going on? My gravity detector—” His voice trembled, barely steady. “The pull at the beam’s center is rising at an exponential rate—e to the sixth! If it crosses the gravitational threshold, it’ll collapse into a singularity!”

  Xiao’s eyes widened, the white light painting his features ghostly and unreal. “Don’t tell me that’s a black hole! If a black hole forms here, Earth is finished!”

  Shi shot him a frosty glare, lips pressed in a thin line. “Thank you for the commentary. Try using your brain and figure out what we’re supposed to do.”

  Xiao rolled his eyes, feigning indifference, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. “This planet isn’t ours. Why should we care?” But his voice was thin, brittle.

  Shi’s sigh was heavy, exhausted. “Except our Star Emperor is in there.” He tapped another screen—one red dot pulsed rapidly, urgent and small.

  Chen’s life-signal.

  Xiao froze, then shot forward like a gale, wings slicing the air as he dove straight toward the beam’s epicenter.

  From behind, Shi heard his companion’s panicked shout echo through the wind: “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT EARLIER?!”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  On the ground, chaos reigned. All of Los Angeles spilled from the temporary tents, faces drained of color, eyes wide with terror as they stared at the blazing spear of light in the distant mountains. The beam split the sky, so bright it seemed to set the clouds on fire, rising higher and higher until it vanished into the void.

  Lanice stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape, the light reflected in his wide eyes. The world felt impossibly small beneath that impossible column of energy.

  Beep beep—

  His phone vibrated in his hand, shrill and insistent.

  He snatched it up. “Lanice speaking.”

  [I KNOW YOU’RE LANICE!] The voice on the line was sharp, frantic—Shi’s, unmistakable.

  Lanice’s heart hammered. “…who are you?”

  [Listen, human. I don’t care how you do it—evacuate everyone within a thirty-kilometer radius. You’ve got forty minutes. Do you hear me? Forty!]

  “Why? What is that light?!”

  [I don’t know!! But if you don’t do it, a lot of people will die. Understand?!] The call cut off.

  Lanice stared at the phone, pulse racing, then spun and dialed command with shaking hands.

  “Command! Abort the rescue operation. We’re evacuating—evacuate everyone within a thirty-kilometer radius!”

  The Ultimate Weapon.

  No one knew who had forged the source of such power. Legend said it was found at the end of the parallel universes—on a drifting, sunless planet, where the builders had long since vanished, leaving behind only a vessel of unimaginable force.

  If I release you, you’ll die. Is that still okay?

  I don’t need your answer. I only need you to allow me to like you.

  I love you. This is my will.

  My name is Chen. Xing. Chen.

  What happened?

  He didn’t know. He didn’t want to remember.

  Because the person who mattered—the one who said he liked him—was already gone.

  No one wanted him. Not his mother. Not his father. Not his grandfather. And in the end—not you, either.

  Chen—

  At the beam’s center, a black-haired young man clung to the golden-haired man in a death grip.

  Chen’s hair—usually braided—had come completely loose, wild strands whipping in the storm, the gold only making his pallor more ghostly. The young man holding him seemed oblivious to the world, his face blank, emptied of everything but loss.

  On the right side of his face, a strange mark crept upward, glowing blue as it crawled toward his eye. That eye—once black as obsidian—now blazed with unnatural light.

  Nothing mattered anymore.

  A single tear overflowed from that burning eye, only to be ripped away by the wind before it could fall.

  The beam, packed with catastrophic energy, pierced the heavens and bored through the crust below, punching straight into Earth’s core.