In the quiet room, only the old-fashioned clock on the wall gave off a faint, rhythmic sound. The night had grown very deep.

  Yan Qing slept curled on his bed, long lashes veiling the black eyes beneath. He twisted beneath the covers, brow furrowed, breath catching on a wordless sound.

  Dad… Mom… don’t you want me anymore?

  A small figure curled up in a corner, sobbing softly.

  Everything hurts. Falling out of that hole just now—hurts.

  No one wants me anymore. I’m so scared. So sad.

  He lifted his head. The childish little face was smeared with scrapes and dirt, tears trembling in his wide eyes.

  Through those wet lashes, he saw a blurry figure standing before him.

  —Hey, who are you?—

  “Mm…” Yan Qing blinked awake, the room still heavy with night. He pressed a hand to his forehead, the echo of the dream lingering in his chest.

  A dream…

  His fingers found the faint scar at his hairline—a relic from the week he’d spent lost in a cave as a child. He barely remembered it, only the stories his grandfather told. Seven days, no food, no water. The forest ranger had said it was a miracle he survived.

  That figure at the end of the dream… was it something he imagined?

  Yan Qing frowned.

  In truth, he didn’t remember much about that experience. Later, he’d only heard from his grandfather that he’d stayed in that cave for an entire week before anyone found him. Even his grandfather never understood how a child could survive seven full days without food or water. And according to the forest ranger who’d discovered him, the tiny Yan Qing hadn’t shown the collapse you’d expect from days without eating.

  It was strange—but seeing him brought back safe, his grandfather hadn’t lingered on those details.

  God bless. Yan Qing remembered his grandfather saying that to the little him back then.

  Why now, after all these years, did that memory surface? And who was that shadow at the end?

  Yan Qing rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the unease. He let himself drift back under, hoping for dreamless sleep.

  6:30 AM. The alarm rang on the dot.

  Yan Qing slapped the alarm off, successfully killing the awful ringing, then slowly crawled out of bed and shuffled out of the bedroom.

  He glanced up at the ceiling, sighing. “Wake up, Sir!” he called, voice still rough with sleep.

  The “ceiling lamp” on the ceiling flipped over and hopped down in front of Yan Qing.

  “Morning.” Chen, temporarily living in Yan Qing’s home, gave his landlord his signature smile.

  Heat crept up Yan Qing’s neck. He coughed, trying to sound brisk. “Hurry up. If we’re late, it’s on you.”

  “I can leave anytime.” Chen answered, still smiling so brightly it practically made Yan Qing squint.

  The memory of Chen playing music flickered through his mind—breathtaking, impossible. Yan Qing’s heart stuttered. He scowled at his own reflection.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Yan Qing stomped into the washroom, fuming silently.

  Yan Qing, get a grip.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  In the living room, Chen was already awake, sprawled on the sofa, flipping through the news with the remote.

  [At two o’clock this morning, meteorologists detected a severe undersea earthquake in the central Pacific. According to the International Meteorological Bureau, this earthquake is the largest ever recorded. Authorities have

  issued a red alert to countries that may be affected. Cities along our nation’s western coast have prepared for tsunami evacuations. Next, from Country XX—]

  Chen frowned, absently tracing his chin as numbers flickered across the muted screen.

  That was what Yan Qing saw when he finished washing up and came into the living room.

  The television’s voice faded mid-sentence. Chen had muted it with a speed that felt almost rehearsed, as if he needed to silence the numbers before Yan Qing could catch them.

  “What’s wrong?” Yan Qing asked, watching Chen’s face for a flicker of truth.

  Chen turned, offering a practiced smile. “Nothing.” He rose, pressing a spot on the bracer at his wrist. A shimmer passed over him—robe melting into a fitted black suit, every inhuman detail erased in a heartbeat.

  Now indistinguishable from any other commuter, Chen switched off the TV. “Time for work.”

  Yan Qing watched Chen’s retreating back, the silence between them stretching a little too long. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

  To keep up appearances, Chen and Yan Qing arrived at NASA’s Manhattan branch separately each morning. Yan Qing never understood how Chen managed to slip in unnoticed, but every day, by the time he reached his office, Chen was already there—sitting at his desk, calmly sipping the tea Shirley, his secretary, had prepared.

  Yan Qing settled in, one hand recording data from the atmospheric particle capture device, the other adjusting the receiver frequency. The device was the backbone of his latest obsession: black hole theory. Ever since returning from Chen’s universe, he’d found himself drawn deeper into the mysteries of the multiverse. Maybe, if he pushed far enough, he’d glimpse the rules that governed all possible worlds.The funding for these experiments came from a grant earmarked for interstellar warp research. Yan Qing felt no guilt. After all, curiosity was part of the job—at least, that’s what he told himself as he watched the data scroll by.

  After a while, Yan Qing set his data pad aside, but his mind kept circling back to Chen’s odd silence over breakfast, the way he’d muted the news too quickly. Chen had said his people weren’t the only ones to reach Earth. Was it possible…?

  He hesitated only a moment before grabbing his phone and dialing.

  “Professor Rosen? It’s Yan Qing. Could I borrow some recent global meteorological data from you?”

  Elsewhere — beyond Earth’s orbit

  In the vacuum far beyond Manhattan, a starship hovered within the gravity well of Titan, one of Saturn’s many moons.

  Xiao sat in the command chair, looking at the face on the screen. In his flat, toneless voice, he reported, “Data shows that over the past decade, Earth’s tectonic movement has been trending steadily upward. It’s almost as if someone is deliberately breaking Earth’s cyclical balance.”

  [Not almost.] Chen said on the screen. [If my guess is correct, then ‘they’ are most likely the key behind these abnormal crust movements.]

  “I’ve transmitted your discovery to Shi. Should we send people?” Xiao’s face barely moved beyond speaking.

  On the screen, Chen paused as if thinking through Xiao’s question, then continued. [Not yet. Before we conduct a risk assessment on the other side, armed conflict is the last option I’ll choose.]

  “Understood. But may I ask a question?”

  [Ask.]

  “Um…I believed Lord Shi had already asked last time he saw you, but—” Xiao chose his words carefully. “Why—just out of curiosity—Why not just bring Yan Qing back to Alfa Centauri directly?”

  Xiao swore he was only curious.

  After all, if Chen truly wanted to use force, the scientist wouldn’t even have the chance to resist.

  […] Chen fell silent, not answering immediately—only staring at the Supreme Armed Commander on the other side of the screen.

  Just as Xiao thought he wouldn’t get an answer, Chen finally spoke.

  [I don’t want to go that far. Because I want Yan Qing to accept me of his own will.]

  After waiting so many years, Chen had no desire to turn their relationship into some tortured “toxic love” model. He wasn’t like his teacher—so bored he found it fun to pick fights with the High Chancellor every day.

  It was painful just to watch them in the same room together.

  Chen thought quietly.

  And, speaking of the High Chancellor…

  Chen’s thoughts were cut off by Xiao’s next words.

  “Chen, you are our Star Emperor. The Council is only temporarily overwhelmed by reconstruction, that’s all. After all, tomorrow High Chancellor Mian will awaken from the cryosleep.” Xiao stated. “When that happens, he…”

  The High Chancellor was not someone easily dealt with.

  [I understand.] Chen’s golden gaze drifted to some unknown point as he answered evenly. [But what I’ve discovered on Earth isn’t entirely useless to him either.]

  Xiao’s brow twitched slightly. Inwardly he complained: Sure—but doesn’t that just mean you’re in even bigger trouble?

  [Continue monitoring anomalous energy on Earth. Find a way to locate Fenreiga’s foothold. Report anything you find immediately.] Chen ordered. [And until I say otherwise, do not notify anyone.]

  “Yes.”

  [This call is over.] With a beep, Chen’s image vanished.

  “Well…” Xiao exhaled, finally leaning his straight back against the chair. “My stars…” he murmured.

  Looks like I’m getting my pay docked again.