The Research Camp. The Hills East of the Capital. Morning.
The portal shimmered.
Ken stepped through, his clothes clean, his body unharmed, his face still. The portal behind him rippled but did not close. It had been open for twenty hours. He had returned early.
Mirena rushed to him. "Report?"
Ken walked to the table. The artifact pulsed faintly. The refined stones in the circle were dimmer but still glowing. The portal could remain open for four more hours if they chose.
"No sign of Aldric," he said. "No sign of Vorlag. No hunters. No creatures."
Grog's jaw tightened. "Nothing?"
"Not nothing." Ken reached into his pocket. Pulled out a small crystal—pale, pulsing faintly. "I found this."
Mirena took it. Held it to the light. Her eyes widened.
"This is spatial residue. Someone passed through that world recently. Not a portal—something else. A tear. A crack."
Grog stepped closer. "Aldric?"
Mirena shook her head. "I can't tell. The residue is faint. But it's not Vorlag's. His magic leaves a different trace. Colder. Hungrier."
Ken met Grog's eyes. "Someone was there. Someone with magic. Someone who didn't belong to that world."
Grog's hand tightened on his axe. "Could be Aldric. Could be someone else."
Mirena placed the crystal on the table. "We need to study this. The resonance patterns might tell us where they went."
---
Grog looked at the portal. Still open. Still stable.
"We could send someone else through. Before it closes."
Mirena shook her head. "The portal leads to a different world each time. Once it closes, the destination resets. We can't control where it goes."
Ken nodded. "The world I explored is already gone. If we close this portal and reopen another, it will be a new world. Completely random."
Grog's jaw tightened. "Then we keep this one open. Send more scouts."
Mirena pointed to the refined stones. "The stones are depleting. We have maybe four hours left. Not enough for a full expedition."
Ken stepped forward. "I saw ruins. Old. Carved with symbols. The clones couldn't get close—the magic was too strong."
Grog looked at the portal. "Show me."
---
They gathered at the portal's edge.
Ken described the other world—purple skies, silver trees, a river that glowed. The ruins sat on a hill, ancient stone, symbols that matched the rings.
Mirena's face was pale. "Kevin's order?"
"Or something older."
Grog turned to her. "Can we close the portal and open another? Try to get the same world?"
Mirena shook her head. "No control. It's random every time. We could try a hundred portals and never see that world again."
Ken spoke. "Then we go back now. Before it closes."
Grog looked at the artifact, the dimming stones. "How long?"
"Four hours."
"Not enough."
Ken met his eyes. "I can go alone. I've already mapped the area. I know where the ruins are. I can reach them in two hours, explore for one, return."
Grog was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "Go."
---
Ken stepped through the portal.
The camp waited.
Mirena watched the stones dim. Alistair monitored the wards. Grog stood at the edge, his hand on his axe.
Two hours passed.
The portal rippled.
Ken stepped through.
He was breathing hard, his clothes torn, a fresh cut on his arm. But he was smiling.
"I made it," he said. "The ruins are a beacon. A marker. Someone used them to travel between worlds. Not Vorlag. Not the cult. Someone else."
Mirena moved to him. "The symbols?"
"Same as the rings. Kevin's order, or whoever came before them."
Ken pulled a small fragment from his pocket—a piece of carved stone, glowing faintly.
"This was embedded in the wall. I think it's a key."
Mirena took it. Her hands shook.
"To what?"
Ken met Grog's eyes. "To wherever Aldric went, maybe."