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At the end of the universe climbs an odd, colossal tower.
Dirt surfs along the great gusts of its ascent, having the trio brace themselves for another flinch of movement once more. As it continues to rise, beams of fluorescent lights scattered across the smooth metallic exterior pulse, scanning the mountain’s peak. Cracks of lightning split open the shadowed heavens, trailing with the rumbling thunder.
The boy’s furrowed gaze ascends to the darkened, cloudy skies, the summit of the structure fading from sight. It was unlike anything he had ever seen on this journey, surpassing its strangeness with the countless encounters of formidable foes and uncertain allies.
His great-grandmother’s lingering words failed to mention the earth-shattering obstacle in front of them.
The girl in pink clutches her billowing hat tightly while the friend with glasses continues to tremble as the tremors beneath their sneakers abruptly halt.
A horrible droning silence follows. Not the shriek of scratching metal or unruly cries of wildlife they were so accustomed to listening to—simply static that stagnates the crisp air.
Time resumes for no one.
The three hold in their breath for anything.
Then, before they could exhale, a shape far from reach materializes at the head of the otherworldly shuttle.
Cocooned in a pod of slimy tendrils beyond this world and bathed in a pool of transparent liquid floats a vaguely misshapen humanoid. The figure sports a set of slender horns grown from its flesh, along with similarly slim limbs. Beady eyes peer from above, encompassing limitless knowledge unrecognized to those on the earth’s surface. Curling near the bottom of one of its legs sails a thin tail, flicking with unsettling interest.
The boy’s eyes widen, realization emerging from the buzz of adrenaline of the creature drawing near.
Just as the children could utter a word, a sudden sound shatters the quiet.
Speech filters through the stillness, pushed beyond the normal means of hearing and echoing further into the youth’s minds. With each syllable as foreign as the creature’s distorted tone draining energy out of them, its pointed muzzle stayed pressed shut. The boy catches his name through the fuzzy fog of mental translation, casting him in a trance.
He yelps before the pain fully registers.
A jolt of blistering energy flows through his veins, inexplicable as it is agonizing.
The girl in pink, midway through her prayer of protection, cries out in a similar manner, her knees sinking to the coarse ground. Sweat shimmers under her bangs before a refreshing chill casts over the party in a heartbeat, defending the remaining friend from the worst of the unavoidable strike.
The creature proceeds to project its cutting thoughts, bitterness firing through the garbled mess of decrypting mental noise. His temples strain from translation. Thinking straight felt impossible with the suffocating hatred polluting the elevated atmosphere.
He grounds himself with the noticeable weight of an old diary in his backpack. Nearly a century has passed since the boy’s great-grandparents stood at this mountain top prior to disappearing off the planet entirely. What had once been buried long ago rose back to the surface, brought to light by a presence frozen in the past.
A dream, it still feels like, to have touched the lingering memories of the woman who mentioned cradling the cosmic calamity before them in a warm embrace.
The remnants of a lullaby climb up his throat, eager to be heard.
A glint of light deflects his attention, sourced from the other boy’s spectacles. As his eyebrows knit together, shaky hands grasp the outlawed artillery from their travels. His fingers twitch just shy of the trigger.
In a blink, a spark ignites in its chamber. A beam of pure electricity fires off the cliff side, contorting and zipping through the dense air before colliding against the alien’s pod with a thundering crack—
…Only for the energy to dissolve. The ghost of static flickering around the capsule is the remaining evidence of direct contact.
Trails of bubbles spew from the tendrils connecting to the liquid chamber. The humanoid floats without a flinch.
In response to the interruption, the incomprehensible power from earlier rockets towards the children; blinding sight and bruising skin, brutal pressure that burns deep within.
The boy’s eyes flutter shut briefly, enduring the searing hits. None of them stationed on this soil deserve this. His heart ached for the parents separated from their children in the rural town neighboring the vast desert and for the various animals crushed under unearthly malice.
All he could feel was the weight of the mother who waited at home, stomach knotted for his safety—and for a fleeting heartbeat, he wondered if this was what the creature had known once, too.
Storms roll in the distance, the scent of dread swallowing their senses.
As hope of surpassing this substantial force dwindles with the fleeting seconds, a girl’s voice quivers, fragile in the chaos.
Each note brushed his ears like a hand he had never held. A wavering rhythm of care, of something lost yet persistent.
Disapproval quickly met the melodic noise. A sharp string of thought splits open through theirs as the figure drifts in the pod. The boy, without further hesitation, summons all the willpower he could muster to revitalize strength back to his team before the next attack.
A proposition emerges over his racing heart. Absurd and short-lived, planted in the hopes the sprout will be ripped apart. Abandoning everything he had ever known, after all he and his friends went through together, failed to embed with the shake of his head.
He braces for the brunt of the creature’s power and, in response, he meets the girl in song.
It drifts an inch back, squinted eyes fixed on the scene below. The duo gather close side by side, linking warm, smudged fingers together. The lines glide effortlessly off their lips as if memorized from the cradle.
A cry of objection invades the minds of the children, bitingly urgent to cease the clamor.
It fires another flare of energy, seeping further down into the bone. If the boy hadn’t held hands, he would have surely fallen to his knees. She blesses the party with a brisk wave of restoration and, soon afterwards, picks up the previous spot in the song.
A hand grips a sleeve, the knuckles white and trembling.
At last, the remaining friend joins, raising the youthful voices higher than the rolling clouds above. Shoulder to shoulder, singing from the heart until it feels as though their chests will collapse. Varying in pitch and tone, beyond scrapping voice cracks and strains, a mother once sang these melodies to a child who forgot her name.
Humanity's only hope lies in three small lungs, pushing the universe to remember love.
Something inside the creature splinters. Not a voice—there is no voice any longer—but a pressure that rattles their skulls, begging every thought to burst. The world they’ve endured narrows to static and blinding pain, a frantic mind tearing itself apart from what it remembers. Gentle hands. Lyrics enveloped to soothe.
When the voices give out, the static subsides. The press loosens but never truly fades. Words differing from the song melt sour on their tongues, until a fracture clips through the air.
How did you…?
A song.
I lost to—a song.
A pulse. Smaller, almost tender.
Do not mistake this for defeat.
I am… not finished.
The sentiment evaporates, leaving only a ringing in their ears. Up in the clouds, lightning streaks across the darkened sky. The air buckles, metal and impossible light rippling, rushing wind sweeping back in.
In the silence, the humanoid dissolves, burdened by a planet it cannot truly escape.