ExoGenesis

Chapter 6: The Fractured Dream

The station groaned like an old ship nearing its final voyage. A low hum reverberated through the walls of the decaying structure, a sound that had become more and more persistent since the activation of the Multiversal Construct. The flickering lights seemed to stutter in time with the tremors, casting long, unnerving shadows in the corridors. The temperature in the station had dropped, and a thin film of frost had started to coat the walls, an effect Kaelen hadn't noticed before. It was as if the fabric of space itself was unraveling, thread by thread.

The crew moved cautiously through the research wing, their footsteps muted against the metallic floors. Kaelen walked at the front, Lira just behind him, her eyes scanning every corner with growing apprehension. The Multiversal Construct's influence seemed to be spreading, its power infecting everything it touched.

"Kaelen, I don't like this," Lira muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something's wrong. This place… it's not just falling apart. It's being… unmade."

Kaelen didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead, but his mind was elsewhere—lost in the disjointed echoes of what had transpired. Ever since the Construct had activated, he had felt a change within himself, a deep sense of disconnection from the reality he once knew. His thoughts had become a maze of fractured images, thoughts overlapping in ways they never had before. And worst of all, the dreams had started.

The first one had come the night after they'd triggered the Construct. It had been a simple dream—too simple, really. He had been walking alone through a quiet city, a place that felt familiar yet strange. In the dream, everything seemed right. He had been at peace, unburdened by the knowledge of the multiverse, the constant weight of time and existence pressing down on him. But as he'd rounded a corner, he saw himself standing there—a mirror version of himself, staring with the same intensity in his eyes.

The dream had ended there, but the feeling lingered. A cold shiver ran through him as he recalled the look in the other Kaelen's eyes—unsettling, like he had seen too much and understood too much.

The second dream had been more vivid, more real. He had been in a different place this time, a battlefield, scarred and burning. His hands were covered in blood, and the sky was filled with smoke. His chest had been tight, breath ragged, as he looked into the eyes of a dying enemy—a woman, though her face was indistinct, her features blurred. She had whispered something in his ear as she fell, but the words were lost in the roaring chaos. Just before the dream had ended, she had reached out to him with a bloody hand, clutching a small metallic object—something that looked suspiciously like the Multiversal Construct.

Kaelen's breath hitched. He had woken up in a cold sweat, the room spinning, as if he had just witnessed something far more real than a simple dream.

The dreams had continued, each one more vivid and terrifying than the last. In some, he had seen versions of himself on the verge of great victories, in others, he had witnessed versions of himself consumed by failure, regret, and despair. Every dream seemed to promise that some future was inevitable, a future where the Multiversal Construct was at the heart of every choice, every decision.

But the question was: was he in control, or was he just a puppet caught in the strings of something far larger than himself?

Kaelen's gaze drifted to the walls of the station, the icy tendrils of frost creeping across the metal. The same unnatural chill that had settled in the station's corridors seemed to have taken root in his chest. He could feel the Construct calling to him again, its whispers in the back of his mind, urging him toward it.

He had to find answers.

"We're almost there," Kaelen said, his voice tight, as he led the team down a narrow corridor that opened into a central control room. The space was large, cluttered with old consoles, their screens cracked and dark. The once-bustling heart of the station, now a graveyard of forgotten technology. But there was something different about this room, something that didn't belong.

The air felt thicker here, charged with an unseen energy. Kaelen could feel the Construct's presence pressing against the edges of his consciousness, tugging at him with an almost physical force.

"Check the terminals," he instructed, though his voice sounded far away to his own ears, like he was already detached from the moment. Lira, ever the practical one, moved to the nearest console, her fingers flying over the keys with expert precision.

"Nothing's responding," Lira muttered, frustration creeping into her tone. "These terminals are shot. This place is a mess."

"Keep looking," Kaelen pressed, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're missing something."

His mind was racing again, the fragments of his dreams flooding his thoughts, but he couldn't put the pieces together. The version of himself he had seen in that city, the bloodied battlefield, the whispered words in the dark—all of it was linked somehow to the Multiversal Construct. But how?

Suddenly, a flicker of light caught his attention. One of the consoles at the far end of the room blinked to life, its screen crackling with static before a series of images flashed across it. Kaelen's pulse quickened as he stepped forward, his breath coming shallow and fast.

The images were familiar. Another timeline, another version of him, standing in a place that felt like a memory he hadn't lived yet. He saw himself looking into the eyes of a woman, his face twisted in a mixture of fear and awe. He could hear her voice, faint but clear.

"The path has been set. You cannot turn back now."

Before Kaelen could process the words, the screen blinked and changed. Now, the images showed something darker, something he wasn't prepared for. The same woman, but this time her body was broken, her eyes vacant. She had been torn apart by something Kaelen couldn't see, something that had shattered not just her body, but the very fabric of reality around her.

In an instant, the console went dark.

"What the hell was that?" Lira's voice was tense as she moved toward Kaelen, her expression filled with concern. "Kaelen, what's going on? What did you see?"

Kaelen's mind was reeling. The visions from the console were fading, but the words echoed in his mind, growing louder by the second. "The path has been set."

He didn't know what it meant, but he felt the weight of those words press down on him, an unshakable certainty that they were somehow tied to everything he had seen—the dreams, the visions, the fractured glimpses of other timelines.

The room seemed to shift around him, the walls warping, the floor rippling as if reality itself was breaking apart. The air grew colder, heavier. Kaelen looked up and found that Lira had taken a step back, her face pale.

"Kaelen, look," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Kaelen turned, his heart sinking in his chest.

At the far side of the room, the Multiversal Construct shimmered once again, the air around it alive with crackling energy. Its form was twisting, folding in on itself, like a knot of possibility trying to break free from the confines of reality. It beckoned him, pulling him in, offering him more knowledge, more power—an endless web of choices that stretched through every possible version of existence.

But the cost…

Kaelen felt the fracture inside him widen. Was this his choice? Or had he already crossed a line, stepping into a path from which there was no return?

"Kaelen," Lira whispered, fear in her eyes. "Please. Whatever this is, we can still turn back. We can leave before—"

But Kaelen wasn't listening. He was already moving toward the Construct, his mind clouded with a sense of inevitability.

The dreams were no longer just dreams. They were becoming reality.

And Kaelen was beginning to realize that the Multiversal Construct didn't just show him the paths of possibility—it was rewriting the rules of his existence.