The metallic creaking echoed through the corridors of the spaceship as the Boss returned. His body was once again nothing but dust and shadow, slowly condensing into a humanoid form as he entered the command room.
At the ship's panoramic window, he stood again, the Boss, tall, silent, his arms folded behind his back. Before him stretched the black sea of space, broken only by distant starlight.
His right hand stepped beside him, his face stern, but uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Sir... we've intercepted a message. There's an organization on this planet—AAA. They've examined the entire laboratory. Do you want us to take them out?"
The Boss turned slowly to her, his expression impassive. An expression of almost superior calm rested on his face as he replied curtly, "No. It's fine. Let them. They're not a threat."
He made a dismissive gesture, as if the AAA were worth no more than an annoying mosquito. "Tell everyone to launch. We're not wasting any time here. Luke... is the only lead giving us a headache."
The Right Hand stopped, hesitated. Then she lowered her voice slightly: "Sir... have you perhaps begun the second form...?"
The Boss's eyes flashed briefly. A barely perceptible smile crossed his face. "No. Not yet."
"You shouldn't," she urged, earnest and almost pleading. "It's a special feature, yes... but every time you use the second form, it costs you dearly. Too often... and—"
"Enough." His voice cut sharply through the room, abruptly, like a knife. He turned away and looked back out into the depths of space. "This secret doesn't belong here. Not now. All is well."
There was a moment of silence, only the deep vibration of the ship's engines filled the room.
Then the Boss raised his hand as if to control the entire universe with a single command. "Give the orders. Launch the fleets. Lukas will be found."
The Right Hand lowered his head, turned, and relayed the commands. The dust creatures in the room scattered, their cloaks fluttering as they began to move.
The Boss stayed behind, staring out at the stars—and no one dared to ask him further about the second form.
The Right Hand returned to the command room, his footsteps quiet, almost reverent. The Boss slowly turned his head.
"Well?" he asked tersely.
"I have an idea, sir," said the Right Hand. "There are two people on this planet who have been associated with Lukas's name for years. An Inspector... Schäfer. And a woman. Dr. Aurora Stein. Perhaps... they know more than they're telling."
A silence, then a curt nod from the Boss. "Then we'll visit them."
A short time later, the ship descended silently through the clouds. No one noticed as it landed in the darkness of a suburban night. The metal of the hull shimmered dully in the moonlight as a ramp opened. Five figures in long coats, woven from dust, stepped out and moved with uncanny ease across the asphalt.
Their destination: an inconspicuous house at the side of the road.
The right hand led the squad to the front door. There they stopped. Only the rhythmic dripping of rain on the roof could be heard. Then – a knock. Muffled, heavy, almost unnatural.
Inside, there was movement. Footsteps. Finally, the door opened.
Schäfer stood there, still in his shirt, his collar half-open. Beside him, Dr. Aurora Stein stepped out, her eyes tired but alert. Both looked out into the fog – and recognized the silhouettes.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Their eyes widened, panic reflected in their faces. Aurora pressed her hand to her mouth as Schäfer took a step back. "My God..." he breathed.
But before either of them could react, the image of the figures crept into their consciousness – and, as if struck by shock, it tore their senses away.
Aurora screamed shrilly, a sound of naked fear, before she staggered and collapsed unconscious. Schäfer, the old inspector, tried to stand her ground, but he too buckled under the pressure and fell heavily to the ground.
An eerie silence fell over the house. Only the dripping rain and the slow creaking of the door hinges could still be heard.
But someone else had heard everything.
Max.
Hidden in one of the back rooms, he had heard the screams. His heart raced as he remained in the darkness, his hands pressed tightly to his body. Every muscle tensed, every sound became a threat. He knew: Those who had just entered the house… had nothing human about them.
And he had to remain invisible.
The Boss stood in the middle of the living room, the unconscious bodies of Schäfer and Dr. Aurora lying motionless on the floor. For a moment, it was quiet. Only the rain pattered against the windows.
Slowly, the Boss raised his gaze and looked at his right hand. A brief twitch passed over her face – then she quickly shook her head. "No, sir... not again."
The Boss spoke with deep, threatening calm. "I have to do this."
"Not the second form! You know what it does to you!"
A brief smile, cold, merciless. "Torture would take too long. And time... we don't have."
His right hand recoiled. "No... please, no."
But then it began.
A crack, dull, like breaking bones. The Boss's body tensed as if it were being burst open from within. Dark dust oozed from his pores, but instead of dispersing, it clumped together, turning into a slimy, putrid mass.
His skin ripped, bursting into shreds. Beneath it oozed rotten flesh, greenish, blackish, glistening with blood. As if pulled by invisible hands, tendons crawled over the bare bones, clinging to them, only to tear open again immediately. Gaping holes remained everywhere, through which his ribs protruded like a bloody carcass.
A foul odor spread—sweet and rotten, like corpses left in the sun too long. Drops of rancid fluid seeped from him to the ground and burned into the wood of the floor.
His face contorted, his skin stretching so tightly it tore like parchment. One eye hung halfway out, sucked back into his skull by festering veins. His mouth twisted into a grotesque grin, the skin splitting at the corners until his teeth were exposed—black, broken, shreds of flesh clinging together.
He was now more monster than form, a walking corpse of rotting flesh and chopped body parts. A body that should never have existed.
His right hand recoiled, his eyes filled with disgust. "My God..." she whispered.
The Boss stood over the two bodies that had just been unconscious. With a jolt, Schäfer and Dr. Aurora sat up—confused, rigid, eyes wide open.
The Boss turned toward them, his gaze cold, his form still half-distorted. From his mouth crawled a sound that was neither speech nor animal. Then, slowly, his jaw split grotesquely wide. Dark mucus dripped from his teeth as his tongue protruded from his throat—black, viscous, slimy, several hand-widths long.
"No... oh God, no!" Aurora gasped as she backed away.
"Hold her," the Boss growled. Immediately, two of the dusty figures grabbed Aurora by the shoulders, shoving her brutally to the ground.
Then he bent over her.
With a sickening, smacking sound, his tongue plunged into her mouth, deeper and deeper, until it forced its way into her brain with a sickening, dull crack. Aurora's body jerked, her eyes wide open, as the Boss began to suck.
It wasn't a mere devouring. He pulled her consciousness out of her, ripping memories to the surface in shreds. She saw timelines she had never lived in, felt scenes that had never happened—but all of them belonged to her. It was as if every possible outcome of her life poured into her simultaneously, only to be instantly ripped out again.
A scream ripped through her throat.
Schäfer tried to jump up, but two other figures grabbed him and held him down by the arms. He screamed, tried to fight back, and could only watch helplessly.
Aurora rolled her eyes, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. Then, at the last moment, as her pupils flickered, she stared directly at Schäfer.
"...Lukas... they... are looking for... Lukas..." she breathed, barely audibly.
Schäfer's heart stopped. "What?! What are you talking about?!"
But it was too late. As soon as she said the name, she froze, the light extinguished in her eyes. The Boss withdrew his tongue—slimy, dripping, covered in scraps of tissue—and smacked his lips as he devoured the rest. Aurora's body fell lifeless to the floor, like a hollowed-out husk.
Schäfer yelled, "Aurora! No!" But the Boss was already turning to him.
"Now you."
"Hold him!"
The figures brutally held Schäfer down. His head was pinned down, his mouth violently ripped open. The inspector writhed in panic, but all he could manage was a throaty, half-choked scream.
Then the boss's black tongue pierced his mouth. Schäfer choked, his eyes nearly bulging as it penetrated his skull. A dull, ripping pain ripped through him as knowledge was ripped from him. Everything. Every thought. Every memory. Every possible timeline in which he had ever existed.
He saw flickering images—Max, Aurora, Lukas. A million versions of his own life collapsed in an instant. He wanted to scream, but it was only a strangled gasp.
"Max... run away..." he managed to squirm, his voice barely more than a croak.
Then his body went limp. His eyes half-closed, his breath stopped. The Boss withdrew his dripping tongue, bit down, and Schäfer's body disappeared between his disgusting teeth.
What remained was only blood. Two empty husks on the floor—victims whose entire beings had been devoured.
The Boss wiped his mouth with a hand, the last of Schäfer's blood still dripping from the edge of his chin. Slowly, the rotten flesh slid back, the open wounds closed, the rotting form retreated until he stood in his stable form again. He exhaled calmly, turned to the door, and prepared to leave. "Boss," his right hand suddenly said, stepping forward. "Wait. There should be another child here. A Max. The logs... they show he was friends with Lukas in early timelines."
The Boss froze mid-movement. He slowly turned his head back, his eyes flashing. "...What did you say?"
"Max. A child. Maybe he's here."
The Boss was silent. A moment of silence, heavy and threatening. Then he growled deeply: "Find him."
The figures roamed the house, entering every room, searching the basement, climbing into the attic. But no Max. Not a sound, not a breath.
Finally, one of them stepped back. "Nothing, sir."
The Boss nodded curtly. "Then back to the ship."
Behind the house, by the creaking back door, Max pressed himself against the wall, his heart racing in his chest. He had heard everything, every disgusting noise, every scream, until the silence came. Now he hardly dared to breathe. Then, as quietly as he could, he opened the door. A cool gust of wind hit him.
He ran. Ran as if his life depended on every step. The trees of the forest passed him like black giants. He stumbled, got back up, and kept running, tears streaming down his cheeks. He knew only one thing: get away, as far as possible.
The crew stood silently at the consoles. The boss took his seat, looking out the large panoramic window at the city and the forest below. A flash of contempt crossed his face.
"Eradicate everything," he commanded coldly. "The city. The forest. Everything."
"Yes, sir."
A deep hum rippled through the ship. The walls vibrated as the energy was channeled. A dazzling beam erupted from the belly of the ship—a single, all-consuming stream of light.
The earth trembled. In seconds, city and forest transformed into a blazing inferno. Concrete shattered, trees vaporized, flames devoured everything that remained standing. Then only silence—a huge crater, smoking, black, surrounded by glowing edges.
Nothing remained.
Not even Max.