I was afraid we’d create a singularity. I don’t know what this is, but chances are it’s worse.
A shimmer floats in the center of the chamber, amidst the melted and distorted remains of our fusion toroid. Fractured colors like a kaleidoscope seen in a shattered mirror, or a rainbow broadcast as white noise. Though my mind insists the anomaly is symmetrical, a headache flares when I try to assess its shape. An ocular migraine comes closest to describing it, but the very reality around it seems distorted, bent, like a fist bunching bedlinen; my eyes hurt when they attempt to follow its outline. A faint aura around it suggests that it’s heavy enough to bend light, but the way it floats apparently unsupported in mid-air gives it a weightless, almost ethereal appearance.
A shiver runs down my back and makes my knees shake.
“Avi, what did you do?” I feel stupid for repeating myself, especially since it’s perfectly obvious what he’s done.
He’s gone ahead without us.
