The stars whispered a symphony, their light stretching across the black, infinite canvas of the cosmos. Behind the vast planetary rings of Auren IX, humanity’s first true intergalactic sanctuary, an ancient relic floated silently. It was not a spacecraft. No lights blinked along its surface. No engines hummed. Its body was dark, obsidian-like, its geometry eerily precise. The portal—the singular reason for Auren IX’s fame—hovered like a hole carved into the fabric of reality itself. Andrei Novikov stood beneath it, his stark silhouette dwarfed by its immensity.
Andrei was tall and broad-shouldered, his physique hardened by years of survival on the harsh outer colonies. His deep-set eyes had seen too much, their color a stormy gray that hinted at battles both physical and emotional. His dark hair, streaked with gray at the temples, was cropped short, and a jagged scar ran diagonally across his left brow. Clad in the utilitarian elegance of a Union Keeper, Andrei’s uniform was a patchwork of black and crimson armor, practical and imposing. A sleek laser-pistol holstered at his side reflected the faint glow of the portal. The insignia of the Sanctum Union—a twisting, golden spiral—gleamed on his chest, the weight of its symbolism as heavy as the oath he'd sworn when he joined.
This portal wasn’t merely a piece of celestial debris. No, this artifact predated written human history by millennia. A doorway crafted not by human hands, but by unknown creators. Its function? Theories varied: a wormhole generator, a god-machine, or humanity’s ticket to the stars beyond stars. But for the Sanctum Union—those tasked with safeguarding its mysteries—it represented one truth above all else: power. And power, as experience had taught him, was a dangerous thing to wield.
Arrival of the Pilgrimage
The air hissed as a transport pod landed noiselessly behind him. From its sleek, teardrop-shaped body emerged a small group of pilgrims. They wore deep blue robes adorned with silver embroidery, the patterns resembling constellations. Their leader, a woman with almond-shaped eyes and an aura of calm authority, approached Andrei. Her hands, decorated with intricate henna, rested against a leather-bound tome carried protectively in her arms.
“Keeper Novikov,” she greeted him, her voice soft yet firm. “I am Sister Elysha of the Celestial Order. We’ve come to fulfill the prophecy.”
Andrei crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “Prophecies are just stories shaped by desperation, Sister. This portal has been silent for centuries. What makes you think today will be different?”
Elysha met his gaze with an almost unsettling conviction. “The alignment of the five moons, the resonance in the ancient hymns, the dreams shared by our acolytes—they all point to this moment.” She paused, studying the cold skepticism etched into the Keeper’s features. “Perhaps even your presence here is part of the pattern.”
“I’m here to ensure no part of the pattern ends up dead,” Andrei replied, his voice like gravel. “Go on, then. Perform your rites.”
The Ceremony
The pilgrims assembled in a wide circle beneath the relic, their hymn slow and haunting, echoing against the vacuum-sealed dome surrounding the portal. Elysha raised the tome reverently, reciting words in a forgotten tongue. Andrei stood several paces back, his grip instinctively hovering over his pistol. The last portal ceremony he’d guarded had ended in chaos—spacetime ruptures, gravity spikes, and three dead technicians. He had no illusions about safety here.
A sudden vibration in the air snapped him from his thoughts. The portal pulsed—faint, but unmistakable. Its surface shimmered, black ripples cascading outward like disturbed water. The pilgrims gasped, their hymn faltering briefly before resuming with a sharper urgency.
“It’s responding!” Elysha cried, lowering the tome. “Keeper, do you see? It knows we’re here!”
Andrei’s hand tightened around his weapon. He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the shifting surface of the portal. “Step back,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “All of you. Now.”
The pilgrims hesitated but obeyed, retreating to the far edges of the platform. Andrei activated the scanner integrated into his gauntlet, directing its beams toward the portal. The readout showed spikes in energy levels, radiation signatures that defied classification, and something else—something alive. His stomach tightened.
The Revelation
Without warning, a fragment of the portal’s surface burst outward, forming what appeared to be a jagged doorway. From within, a blinding light poured out, accompanied by an otherworldly hum. Elysha dropped to her knees, murmuring prayers. Andrei held his ground, the weapon raised but trembling in his grasp.
A figure stepped through the portal, its form humanoid but undeniably alien. Its body was a lattice of shimmering filaments, constantly shifting and reforming. Where a face should have been, there was only a swirling vortex of light. It regarded the gathering silently, the intensity of its presence forcing the pilgrims to lower their heads, unable to look directly at it.
Andrei, however, locked eyes—or whatever equivalent the creature had—with the entity. “What… are you?” he asked, his voice shaking despite himself.
The creature’s voice, if it could be called that, resonated not through sound but through thought, filling the mind like a waterfall crashing against the rocks. “I am the Architect. You have unlocked the threshold between what is and what can be.”
Elysha raised her head, tears streaming down her face. “The prophecy… It’s true! Tell us, Architect, what lies beyond the portal?”
The Architect extended a filament-laden hand toward Andrei. “Beyond lies creation, evolution, and destruction. Choices must now be made.”
The Betrayal
Andrei’s mind raced. He thought of the Sanctum Union, the power they would wield if they controlled this portal. He thought of the countless wars already fought over its dormant state. With the portal active, humanity would fracture even further. He lowered his pistol, his voice cold and resolute. “No one gets that choice.”
With a sudden, fluid motion, Andrei activated the self-destruct mechanism built into the portal’s containment field. Elysha screamed, scrambling toward him. “What are you doing? You can’t destroy it!”
Andrei didn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the Architect, whose form flickered with unreadable emotion. “Humanity can’t handle what’s beyond, Sister. Not yet.”
The explosion was instant. The portal shattered inward, imploding with a brilliant flash of light. The shockwave knocked everyone off their feet, and then, silence.
The Aftermath
When Andrei opened his eyes, the portal was gone. Only the cold, infinite starlight remained. Elysha sat weeping amidst her ruined tomes, her faith shattered as irreparably as the artifact. The other pilgrims stared at Andrei in mute accusation, their hope turned to ash.
Andrei stood, his body battered, his gaze distant. He had chosen to be the villain in their story—perhaps even in his own. As he turned toward his ship, his scarred face reflected only one emotion: resolve.
“Not today,” he muttered to the void. “Maybe someday, but not today.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving behind the wreckage of what could have been.
Genre: Science Adventure
The Source...check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Vatican to Unveil Five 'Sacred Portals' on Christmas Eve
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