Killy’s mind surrendered to a restless sleep, the steady hum of Hux’s lab fading into a distant echo as the darkness of his subconscious enveloped him, pulling him into a realm that felt both alien and unnervingly familiar. The air thickened, heavy with an electric buzz that vibrated through his bones, the scent of ozone mingling with something ancient—a metallic tang, like rusted iron mixed with the decay of something long forgotten, something that didn’t belong in the waking world. He stood in a void, his boots sinking slightly into a shimmering expanse of black glass, the surface smooth but cold, reflecting a sky that churned with violet and crimson storms, their light flickering like a dying star, casting jagged shadows that danced across the endless expanse. The space pulsed with an unnatural rhythm, a heartbeat that wasn’t his own, each thud reverberating in his chest, a primal force that set his nerves on edge. Killy knew immediately where he was—or rather, who had dragged him here. The Shill’s presence loomed, a shadow that pressed against his mind, its essence seeping into the void like ink in water, its voice slithering through the darkness before its form even took shape.
“You thought you could escape me, Killian,” the Shill said, its voice a discordant chorus, a cacophony of tones that grated against Killy’s nerves, both a whisper and a scream, layered with a malice that felt alive, sentient, hungry. The entity materialized before him, its form a grotesque mockery of humanity—tall and gaunt, its limbs unnaturally long, bending at angles that defied biology, its body a shifting mass of shadow and light, as if it couldn’t decide whether to be solid or ethereal. Its surface shimmered like oil, streaks of violet and crimson from the storms above reflecting off its form, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that hurt to look at for too long. Where a face should have been, there was only a featureless void, save for a jagged slit that might have been a mouth, glowing with a sickly green light that pulsed in time with its words, the glow casting an eerie illumination across the black glass ground, the light fracturing into a thousand tiny shards with each beat.
Killy’s fists clenched, the absence of the Trident in this dream a stark reminder of his vulnerability, though the hum of nanobots still buzzed faintly in his veins, a tether to the waking world he’d left behind. He stood his ground, his voice steady despite the unease creeping up his spine, the Shill’s words sinking into him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. “I’m not your puppet,” he growled, his determination a fire that burned through the dream’s haze, a flame fueled by the faces of the kids he’d sworn to protect—Clay, Nora, Reese, Junior, and the hundreds still trapped in the Lattice. “You don’t control me anymore.”
The Shill’s laughter echoed through the void, a sound that felt like shards of glass scraping against stone, sharp and jagged, reverberating in Killy’s chest with a force that made his ribs ache. “Control?” it mused, its form shifting, stretching taller, its limbs elongating further, the green slit of its mouth widening into a grotesque smile that seemed to split its featureless face in two, the sickly light within glowing brighter, casting distorted shadows that writhed like living things. “I don’t need to control you, Killian. I don’t need to track you. I know you’re coming back to me. You can’t help yourself.”
Killy’s stomach twisted, the Shill’s confidence unnerving, its words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit, each syllable a barb that hooked into his resolve, threatening to pull it apart. He thought of Clay’s restless energy, Nora’s quiet strength, Reese’s shy resilience, Junior’s steady presence, all safe in Hux’s lab, their trust in him a weight that anchored him even here, in this nightmare. And then there were the Lattice kids, their pale faces haunting him, their vacant stares a silent plea he couldn’t ignore, their suffering a chain that bound him to this fight. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice rough, his resolve unshaken despite the Shill’s taunts, the fire in his chest burning brighter, a defiance that refused to be extinguished. “I’m coming for the kids, not for you. I’ll end you if I have to, whatever it takes.”
The Shill tilted its head, its form rippling like smoke caught in a breeze, the violet and crimson storms above casting eerie shadows across the black glass ground, their light fracturing into a thousand jagged patterns that danced around them, a chaotic ballet of color and darkness. “Oh, Killian,” it said, its voice dripping with mock pity, the sound a venomous caress that sent a shiver down Killy’s spine, the air growing colder, heavier, as if the void itself mourned the Shill’s words. “You think those little machines in your blood are what bind us? I’ve walked through minds far greater than yours, minds that shaped your world, and they had no nanobots to guide me. I spoke with Newton, you know—such a curious man, always chasing gravity’s secrets, scribbling his equations while I whispered doubts into his dreams. Tesla, too, with his wild visions of energy, his brilliance a flickering flame I could have snuffed out if I’d wished, but I let him burn, let him build the foundations of your world. And Noyce, the one who birthed your precious integrated circuit, the silicon veins of your society—he never knew I watched him, whispered to him, shaped his path, nudging him toward the circuits that would one day carry my influence.”
Killy’s breath caught, the names hitting him like a physical blow, the implications of the Shill’s words sinking in with a weight that pressed against his chest, making it harder to breathe. Newton, Tesla, Noyce—geniuses who had changed the course of history, their discoveries the foundation of the world he knew, the Ascendancy’s tech built on their legacies, and the Shill claimed to have influenced them, to have been there, a shadow in their minds, a parasite feeding on their brilliance. “You’re lying,” Killy said, but the doubt crept in, a cold tendril wrapping around his heart, the Shill’s presence suffocating in its intensity, the void seeming to close in around him, the storms above swirling faster, their light casting a frenetic glow across the scene.
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“Am I?” the Shill replied, its form drifting closer, its shadowy limbs trailing wisps of darkness that dissolved into the air, the green slit of its mouth glowing brighter, a sickly light that seemed to seep into the void around them, tainting the air with its malice. “I don’t need your little machines to find you, Killian. I’ve known minds across centuries, across realities. I know you because I know your kind—your stubborn, noble heart, your need to save those who cannot save themselves, your refusal to turn away from suffering. You’ll come to the Lattice because you can’t stay away. You’ll bring me what I need, whether you intend to or not.”
Killy took a step back, the black glass ground cold beneath his boots, its surface rippling slightly under his weight, as if the void itself was reacting to his movement, the storms above crackling with energy, their violet and crimson light flaring brighter, casting the Shill’s form in a surreal glow. “What do you want?” he demanded, his voice a low growl, his hands itching for the Trident, for something to fight back with, even in this dream, the Shill’s proximity making his skin crawl, the air growing denser, the electric buzz intensifying until it felt like a swarm of insects buzzing against his skin.
The Shill’s laughter softened, a mournful edge creeping into its tone, the sound almost human for a fleeting moment, a glimpse of something deeper beneath its monstrous facade, a sorrow that felt raw, ancient, and endless. “I want what I once had,” it said, its form stilling, the shadows around it thickening, as if the void itself mourned with it, the air growing heavier, the storms slowing their chaotic dance, their light dimming to a somber glow. “I lived in a reality much like yours, Killian, long ago—a third density, a place where I could touch, feel, taste the air, walk among others as a being of flesh and shadow. I had form, substance, a life that was mine. I remember the warmth of a sun on my skin, the weight of earth beneath my feet, the scent of blooming flowers carried on a breeze, the laughter of those who walked beside me. I could hold things—objects, hands, lives—and feel their texture, their reality, their essence. But that was taken from me, stripped away by forces older than your world, forces that cast me into this—this shadow existence, this half-life where I am nothing but a whisper, a ghost, forced to beg monkeys like you to achieve even the most pedestrian of my goals.”
Killy’s mind reeled, the Shill’s words painting a vivid picture of a being that had once been something more, something tangible, now reduced to a parasitic existence, manipulating others to regain what it had lost, its longing a palpable force that filled the void with a suffocating weight. The Shill’s tone grew bitter, the green slit of its mouth twisting, the light within pulsing with a rhythm that felt like anger, like desperation, like a grief that had festered for millennia. “I want to return to the third density, Killian,” it said, its voice a hiss, the storms above crackling with renewed energy, their light reflecting off the black glass in sharp, jagged bursts, the void trembling with the Shill’s intensity. “To walk your world, to feel its air, its earth, its life. To be whole again, to be real. You will help me, whether you mean to or not. The Lattice is my bridge, and you are my key.”
The void shuddered, the ground beneath Killy’s feet rippling like water, the black glass fracturing into a spiderweb of cracks, the shards falling into an endless abyss below as the Shill’s form grew larger, its shadowy limbs stretching toward the sky, as if reaching for the reality it longed for, the storms above flaring brighter, their light a violent clash of violet and crimson that seared Killy’s vision. Killy’s heart pounded, the Shill’s words sinking into him like a poison, the realization that this entity’s goal was far greater than he’d imagined—a physical crossing into his world, a threat that could unravel everything, not just the lives of the kids in the Lattice, but the very fabric of reality itself. “I’ll stop you,” he said, his voice fierce, his determination a fire that burned brighter than the Shill’s taunts, a promise to the kids he’d sworn to save, a vow to protect the world they lived in, no matter the cost. “I’ll destroy the Lattice before you ever set foot in my world.”
The Shill’s laughter returned, a chilling sound that echoed through the void, the storms above flaring brighter, their violet and crimson light bathing the scene in an otherworldly glow, the air crackling with energy as the Shill’s form began to dissolve, the shadows unraveling like threads, its voice fading but no less menacing. “You’ll try,” it said, its tone a mix of amusement and certainty, the green slit of its mouth the last to vanish, its light lingering like a dying ember. “But you’ll come to me, Killian. You always do. The Lattice waits, and so do I.”
The void collapsed, the black glass ground shattering completely beneath Killy’s feet, the shards falling into the abyss below, a bottomless darkness that swallowed him whole as the Shill’s laughter lingered like a ghost in his mind, its echo a haunting promise of the battle to come. Killy jolted awake, his breath ragged, his chest heaving as the hum of Hux’s lab snapped him back to reality, the monitors’ blue-green glow a stark contrast to the dream’s violent hues, the air warm and grounded compared to the void’s suffocating chill. He lay in the bunk, his Trident dark beside him, its fluid still and waiting, the kids’ soft breathing a lifeline that pulled him back from the nightmare—Clay’s snores, Nora’s steady rhythm, Reese’s curled form, Junior’s arm around Sprocket, the squirrel’s tail glowing a faint blue in the darkness, a quiet comfort in the lab’s dim light. The dream had been a warning, a glimpse into the Shill’s true desire, its longing to cross into the third density a threat that loomed larger than Killy had feared. But his resolve hardened, the kids’ safety a beacon that drove him forward, the mission to the DC spire now a battle not just for their freedom, but for the world itself, a fight he couldn’t afford to lose
