"Father, where are you? I've missed you so dearly..."
A gentle, melancholic voice echoed through the darkness. The soft plea seemed to reverberate within his subconscious, tugging at his heartstrings.
"Come back to me, Father. Return to Perebia, and let's complete our unfinished journey. Come to me..."
The ethereal summons was abruptly shattered by the blood-curdling squeal of an unseen creature, its glowing eyes piercing the shadows.
Mike's eyes snapped open, and he screamed, "No!!!!!!"
He jolted upright, his breathing frantic and ragged. Sweat drenched his face, and his heart pounded against his chest. The sound still resonated in his mind.
As he struggled to calm himself, he whispered reassurances under his breath, "It's not real; just a nightmare. It's not real..." But the haunting images lingered, refusing to dissipate.
A few minutes passed before the door handle clicked softly and the door opened. Mrs. Smith entered, concern etched across her face.
"Mike, darling, are you alright?" she asked. "I heard your screams. What's troubling you?"
Mike continued murmuring, a soothing litany to calm his racing thoughts. "It's not real; just a nightmare... it's not real..."
He seemed uncertain if he was truly aware of his mother's presence.
Mrs. Smith settled beside him, enveloping him in a warm, comforting embrace. Her gentle hands stroked his back, and her soft lips brushed against his forehead.
"Everything is alright, my love. You're absolutely fine," she whispered.
"Thanks, Mom," Mike whispered, his voice trembling.
"Get some rest, dear. We'll talk more tomorrow," Mrs. Smith said, standing up and reaching for the door handle.
Suddenly, she pivoted, her expression transforming into a stern gaze. "And next time those nightmares terrorize you, don't scream. Show them who's boss. Take them down like you did those NPS agents at the hospital."
Mike's eyes widened in surprise. "You believe what they said, Mom?" he asked.
"What do you take me for? I'm more perceptive than all of you and your father combined," she declared. "The nurse who attended to you at the hospital told me she witnessed the whole ordeal. She said you sent those agents flying before she could even call for help."
Mike's face betrayed him, and his mother noticed.
"I thought they were exaggerating until I saw your reaction last night. You didn't deny it, did you?" Mrs. Smith pressed, her gaze piercing.
"Dammit!" Mike muttered under his breath and slowly lay back down, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Goodnight, Mom," he said, resignation in his voice.
"Goodnight, my son. I love you," Mrs. Smith replied as she exited the room.
As the door clicked shut, Mike clenched his teeth in frustration.
"Inability to lie is the worst disease ever," he whispered to himself.
The darkness closed in around him, and his thoughts swirled with the implications of his nightmare.
*****
Djuma stood atop the towering spire, gazing out at the breathtaking night landscape of Earth below. The stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across a velvet expanse, and the city lights shimmered like a canvas of molten gold.
He double-tapped a device implanted in his neck, just below his right ear.
"I've finally found the Jyuran, Miram. He's on the Fog Planet," Djuma announced.
...
"I know you're worried, but I can handle this, okay?"
...
"Of course! I haven't met him yet, but I know where he lives and I can trace him."
...
"I've just arrived a few hours ago. I can't approach him now. I need to access the planet's technology first and understand their way of life before I can blend in without being detected."
...
"Don't worry about me, my daughter. I'll avoid the star's energy drain. I'll be fine."
...
He rummaged through his pouch and produced the provisions Miram had packed for him two days ago. The food was still fresh, a testament to the peculiarities of space-time.
"I know you're going to ask about the food next. I'm about to eat now, okay?"
...
"It's supposed to keep well, but time dilation takes care of that. Everything remains fresh—the meat, fruits, everything," Djuma said with a chuckle.
As he bit into the crisp, apple-like fruit, the sweetness exploded on his tongue.
...
"Take care of yourself, Miram. Wait for me in Perebia. I'll be back soon," he said.
With a final double-tap, he disconnected what seemed like a comm device. Only then did he realize the immense energy drain from their conversation.
Exhaustion washed over him, and he crumpled onto the tower's surface, his face filled with worry for Miram, who must have experienced the same energy drain.
His vision blurred, and finally, he succumbed to a deep, restless slumber.
****
Wednesday morning arrived, and Rachael knocked on Mike's door, her voice echoing through the hallway.
"Mike! Wake up! It's morning!"
When she received no response, her concern grew. "Can you hear me, Mike?" she shouted again, but the door remained stubbornly shut.
"Leave him be, Rachael. He'll come out when he's ready," Mr. Smith's calm voice called from downstairs.
"This is how it started the day he lost his sight... I have to check on him," Rachael replied, banging on the door once more.
Suddenly, the door lock clicked, and Mike's irritated face appeared.
"What's with all the noise, you spoiled brat?" he yelled.
"Language, please!" Mr. Smith's voice boomed from downstairs.
"Sorry, Dad," Mike and Rachael replied in unison.
"I can't find my second uniform. Where did you put it?" Mike asked, his frustration still evident.
"Oh, that's right," Rachael responded. "I ironed it yesterday before meeting you at the hospital. It's with me. Just a moment, I'll go get it."
As she left, Mrs. Smith called out from downstairs, where she had been adjusting her husband's tie. "We leave in five minutes. Make sure you're both ready, understood?"
"Yes, Mom!" Mike and Rachael replied in perfect harmony.
*****
Mann watched the Smiths' red SUV drive away, his eyes lingering on the empty bowl and cup beside him. He spoke into his receiver, "The family's left. Over."
A pause, then he continued, "Everything seems normal so far. Do I still need to monitor the house?"
"Shut up and do your job!" The captain's irate voice crackled through the receiver.
"Yes, sir," Mann replied.
He switched off the receiver, and with a clenched fist slammed the steering wheel, triggering a loud honk.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Fucking shit!" his muttered curses filled the air.
*****
Dahra's thunderous voice shook the roofless chamber, his eyes blazing with malevolent fury.
"You failed to bring my father?" he bellowed, his piercing gaze fixed on Grix, who cowered and bowed deeply.
A chilling, inky mist swirled around Dahra, as though darkness itself were coalescing into a tangible entity.
Grix trembled, his voice quivering. "Y-yes, my lord... I located him, but... but I couldn't retrieve him. The star planet's inferno consumed my entire team when we ventured into its atmosphere."
"Incompetence breeds catastrophe," Dahra cursed. "You survived while others perished?"
His hand conjured a churning vortex of dark mist, its tendrils writhing like living serpents.
Grix cowered further, his eyes wide with terror. "M-mercy, my lord!"
"How could you squander the lives of my warriors?" Dahra's voice dripped with venom. "You even murdered innocent and defenseless creatures, yet failed to deliver my father!"
Grix's face contorted in shock. "H-how did you know, my lord?"
Dahra's eyes blazed with an otherworldly intensity. "The power I granted you was not only for protection but also a leash. I witnessed your folly and reckless abandon. You led my men to slaughter!"
"Forgive me, Dahra!" Grix begged, his deep voice cracking. "Grant me another chance, more men... I'll retrieve your father, I swear! I know where he is."
Dahra's laughter was a cold, mirthless sound. "I also know where my father resides – the Fog Planet, adjacent to the infernal world where your incompetence doomed my men."
Rising from his throne, the dark mist vortex swirled around him, as if feeding on his fury. "Your services are no longer required, Grix. Your failure is an affront to my power."
"Mercy, Dahra! I'll bring your father, dead or alive! Just spare me this once!" Grix's desperate pleas echoed through the chamber.
"Dead or alive?" Dahra grinned mischievously. "You amuse me, Grix. Not even I, your lord, could slay my father. He's invincible, a titan in the universe!"
As Dahra spoke, his eyes dimmed, and with a flick of his wrist, the churning vortex of dark mist shot forth, enveloping Grix. The palace was shrouded in an eerie, malevolent haze.
Grix's screams were muffled as the dark mist constricted around him, lifting him off the ground. His limbs flailed wildly, but the mist's grip was unyielding. His struggles grew weaker, and his cries faded into gurgles.
Finally, Grix's body went limp, his eyes frozen in a permanent scream. The dark mist loosened its hold, and Grix's lifeless form crashed to the ground, emitting wisps of smoke and fumes.
The guards averted their gaze, horror visible on their faces. Two of them approached, their footsteps hesitant, and carefully lifted Grix's body, carrying it out of the palace.
As they departed, the dark mist dissipated, slipping back into Dahra's body. He threw his head back and moaned, as though reveling in the power entering him.
The chamber fell silent, the only sound the faint whisper of Dahra's breathing—a reminder that death lurked within the shadows, waiting to claim its next victim.
"Let this serve as a warning to all who fail me," Dahra's low, menacing voice echoed through the chamber.
As he returned to his throne, a colossal Anthropter emerged, his muscular physique marred by bloodstained scars. His naked upper body told the tale of brutal battles. Approaching Dahra's throne, he bowed deeply.
"My lord, I've returned from Leria village," he announced, his voice firm yet filled with deference.
"Welcome back, Domra," Dahra said, his grim expression demanding results. "Did you capture the traitors hiding there?"
Domra rose, "Yes, my lord. They're now in our custody," he replied. "The digging of the new well has commenced, my lord."
Dahra's transformation into a shadowy mist was instantaneous. He swirled around Domra, reforming into his imposing Anthropteroid figure.
"My father, the one I've waited for forty years, has finally emerged," he whispered. "He's on the Fog Planet, amidst the star planets. I charge you, Domra, to bring him before me."
Domra bowed. "I'll fulfill your command, my lord," he said firmly. As he turned to depart, Dahra's warning echoed to him.
"Remember, Domra, failure is not an option. You are my most trusted warrior, and I expect nothing less than unwavering loyalty."
His dark form settled back onto the throne.
Domra turned to face him, nodding as a promise of success. "I understand, my Lord. Your father will be brought before you, no matter the cost."
With a fierce battle cry, Domra launched into the orange sky, joined by dozens of armed Anthropters.
The clouds swallowed them whole, leaving Dahra's palace shrouded in an ominous and foreboding silence.