Planet Mercury. Space Terminal.

  On a vast landing platform beneath a transparent dome stands a massive cargo ship of the "Orca-7" class. Its hull gleams with bright reflections. Workers in black exoskeletons move in synchrony, like parts of a complex machine. They lift heavy containers marked with corporate codes with jewel-like precision. Far in the corner of the platform, metallic clanging rings out, overlapping with dispatchers’ commands, while instructions are shouted in various languages of the Inner Belt.

  Suddenly, a message breaks through the loudspeaker:

  — Attention! Final boarding call for cargo flight "Orca-7". Final destination: Earth. All passengers must complete boarding registration.

  Amid the containers and overworked cyber-cargobots, a figure emerges. He moves slowly, unhurriedly, despite the hectic rhythm around him. On his shoulders — a dark cloak with a hood hiding his face, with only a faint, gleaming metallic detail revealing him as a VIP. Ivor. Smuggler. Shadow commander of the Inquisitors. Now he travels on a diplomatic mission to Earth. He walks with purpose, as if every step is calculated.

  Passing by cargo bots and exhausted workers, he pays no attention to the world around. He enters a dark hatch on the ship and vanishes inside the "Orca-7", like a shadow dissolving into fog.

  The sound of the hatch closing echoes dully across the platform as life continues undisturbed. The ship prepares to depart for space.

  **

  Ivor’s Cabin.

  His private suite contrasts sharply with the utilitarian atmosphere of the ship. The walls project a holographic scene, transporting him to another world: a turquoise sea stretching to the horizon, seagulls fluttering above, sand that seems almost tangible, crunching underfoot. A gentle breeze stirs virtual palm trees, and soft, diffused light gives the illusion an aura of peace and serenity. The sounds of waves and distant cicadas enhance the feeling that Ivor is truly at the shore, far from all concerns and threats.

  He lies on a low couch, one arm behind his head. His gaze is fixed on the sky of the holographic projection, his face reflecting calm, almost a dreamlike state. The simulated sea breeze brushes his face, and for a moment it feels real, as if he could breathe in the salt and freshness of the air.

  In his other hand, Ivor holds an amulet — a small, elegant object made of an unknown, unidentifiable material. On its surface is a strange pattern, as though scorched into the fabric of reality by an alien mind. He turns it over and over in his fingers, recalling how many times he scanned the artifact in different labs — to no avail. No device could explain it. The amulet didn’t belong to this time, or to this reality.

  He remembers receiving it from Captain Manuel at their last meeting. Manuel had said, handing it over:

  — This object is unique. I wonder what it is?

  Ivor smiles at the memory. But today something is different. He feels… something. A faint tremor, as if the amulet is alive. The surface grows warm — almost hot. It’s unusual. And frightening.

  He instinctively puts the amulet around his neck.

  In that instant, everything collapses.

  The room disappears, as if it never existed. The hologram shatters into sparks. The light goes out. The floor vanishes. Ivor feels his body falling. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. The space around him ceases to exist. He feels no ground, no surface — only emptiness. Darkness. The world is gone.

  He opens his eyes — but sees nothing. A black, deafening silence. He tries to scream, but no sound escapes. He reaches for his chest — the amulet is pulsing like a heart, alive, attached to him. But his body feels foreign. Weightless. This silence is not natural. It’s as if time itself has ceased to be.

  He is no longer on the ship. Not on Mercury. He is somewhere else. Perhaps… inside the amulet. In the void. In infinite blackness. Weightless. Isolated. No up, no down. No reality. Only the deaf thump of a heartbeat.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Then, without warning, a voice echoes — deep, enveloping, like warm wind in empty space.

  — Congratulations, Ivor. You are now immortal.

  The voice comes from all directions at once. Not tied to the space. It emanates from the void itself.

  Ivor can’t answer. He cannot grasp what it means.

  He jerks, instinctively trying to cry out — but his voice is swallowed by the dark.

  — Who are you?! Where am I? What does this mean?! — his words vanish, absorbed by the void.

  He thrashes, reaching out in every direction, trying to find something — anything — a wall, air, surface. But there’s nothing. Only endless emptiness offering no support.

  Then, responding to his panic, a faint light flickers in the darkness. Barely visible — like a firefly in a deep cave. A tiny glimmer — but it grows, drawing closer, taking shape. First a silhouette. Then a face.

  Ivor squints — and a look of horrified recognition spreads across his face.

  He sees himself.

  But it’s not just a reflection. The being before him is perfectly symmetrical — eerily so. Its facial features are smooth, devoid of flaws. Its eyes calm, commanding. It knows no fear, no pain. It is untouched by time, weakness, or regret.

  — I am God. My name is Kairus, — the voice is gentle, almost caring.

  Ivor freezes, unable to look away from this idealized version of himself, who gazes back with serene, detached certainty.

  — What’s going on?! — he blurts out, desperation in his voice.

  He reaches out, trying to touch the double — but the moment his fingers graze the creature’s forearm, a jolt of pain tears through him like lightning.

  Ivor cries out, eyes clenched shut. A second of terror. Then he looks again at the being.

  — Careful, — says Kairus, amused, his voice calm, unshaken, as if fear and pain are alien concepts. — You put on the amulet. I entered this world.

  Ivor breathes heavily. He doesn’t resist. Doesn’t fight. He just stares, eyes widening with realization. Everything around him feels real — even if his mind refuses to accept it.

  — I don’t understand... — his voice is a whisper.

  Kairus steps closer, his form radiant with otherworldly power. His voice now has the weight of an ancient ritual.

  — We have found your world, — he says like a prayer. — The link is established. You have completed integration. The amulet opened you. Now you are a vessel. A bearer. A bridge between worlds.

  Ivor stares in horror, struggling to believe the words.

  — Wait… Are you talking about… immortality?

  — Not just any kind, — Kairus replies. — True immortality. We, the gods, bring it to you. You should be grateful. Now you are a believer. You live by the laws of Kairus. And most importantly…

  He steps almost close enough to touch. His eyes burn like twin stars, consuming everything around. His voice becomes hypnotic — like a melody that cannot be ignored.

  — You must pass the amulet on. Place it on the first person you meet. Let them learn the Truth.

  The words fall like a command — a law beyond question. Ivor feels his heart pounding faster, as if the words consume his essence, leaving only one thing: the need to complete the ritual. No matter what it means. No matter the cost.

  He stands before his reflection — perfect, powerful, terrifying. And he knows he has no choice now.

  **

  A sharp snap. Light.

  Ivor opens his eyes. His chest rises rapidly. He’s gasping. His hand is clenched tight, as if trying to hold on to the last trace of reality. A moment on the edge — dream or awakening?

  He sits up abruptly. Looks around.

  The cabin.

  The world returns — but it’s no longer the same. Everything is as before — palms, beach, the sound of waves. The projection mimicking sunlight and warm wind. But now it all feels fake. An illusion. Something is wrong.

  Ivor looks down. The amulet. It hangs on his neck — heavy and pulsing. He feels its heat, as if the object breathes on its own. He shivers. Inside his chest — unease. A strange sensation, as if something within him is changing. Or perhaps the world is beginning to break.

  He steps into the corridor of the cargo ship.

  Metal walls vibrate with the engines’ deep rhythm. The lights dim, not like bulbs losing power — more like reality itself fading. Life around him feels alien. Disturbing.

  His eyes are blank — but his steps are sure. As if he knows what must be done… though he’s no longer entirely himself. There is something new in his movement. Something foreign. Even dangerous.

  A technician approaches. Greasy uniform, tablet in hand, lost in his routine. He notices nothing wrong. Keeps walking.

  — Wait. — Ivor’s voice is firm.

  The technician stops. Raises his eyebrows, surprised to see the notorious smuggler.

  — I have a gift for you. — Ivor speaks quietly, but with certainty.

  He takes off the amulet. In his hand, it feels heavy, pulsing — almost alive. He steps closer, breaking the barrier of personal space.

  — Hey, what are you—? — the technician begins, but it’s too late. The amulet rests on his neck.

  At that moment, a second amulet appears on Ivor’s chest. An exact copy of the first — symmetrical. Flawless.

  From this moment, everything changes.

  — I believe in God Kairus. — Ivor and the technician speak in unison, without emotion. Like a sentence pronounced.

  Pause. In their gaze — the same shadow of will. The technician is no longer just a technician. Ivor is no longer just Ivor. They become something else. One entity. Fated.

  Without a word, they turn and walk down the corridor — not as two, but as one. Perfectly in sync.

  — Where to? — Ivor wonders, but the question no longer matters.

  They are heading to the control deck.