Author’s Note: Thank you for joining me on this journey. If you are new to this story, I suggest you start with Chapter 1. Your comments are very welcome!

---

The port was quiet in the early morning, the mist from the sea clinging to the air like a damp blanket. Jason stood on the rough, uneven rocks at the edge of the dock, staring out at the sleek ship anchored just off the shore. It was a private vessel, one of many that ferried supplies—and people—to Iceland, where the elites had built their fortress away from the world’s chaos. This was Sam’s way in, and Jason had made it happen.

Sam stood beside him, adjusting the plain, dull servant’s uniform she was wearing. Her youthful appearance made her look almost too fresh-faced for the role, but her determined jawset made it clear she was more than ready for what lay ahead.

“You sure about this?” Jason asked, his voice low, rough with emotion.

Sam glanced at him, her sharp eyes softening just for a moment. “You know we don’t have a choice. I’m the only one who can blend in. They won’t question a servant, not like they would you.”

Jason nodded, though his gaze stayed fixed on the ship. His shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of everything he couldn’t say. The thought of Sam going in alone, walking into the heart of the elites’ domain, made him feel hollow inside.

“They’re going to be watching everything, Sam,” he muttered. “You won’t get a second chance if they suspect anything.”

“I know,” Sam said, adjusting the strap on her bag. “But I’ll manage. I’ve been through worse.”

Jason’s eyes flicked to hers, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, you’ve always had a way of getting through things no one else could.”

Sam gave him a small smile, but it faded quickly as she looked back toward the ship. “What about you?”

Jason shook his head, his hands clenching at his sides. “I can’t go with you, not like this. I’d never pass as a servant. Too old, too slow.”

“You know the spiral could help,” Sam said, her voice soft but pointed. “Just this once, Jason. You could use it and reset yourself. Be younger again.”

He stiffened, his eyes hardening as he stared out at the ship. “I won’t. I’ve made my choice.”

“Jason, we need you,” Sam pressed, her voice urgent now. “We need you there. You’re the one with the contacts and who understands the deeper connections in all this. I can’t do this alone.”

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. “I can’t use the spiral, Sam. I won’t let it pull me back in. You know what it does. I’d lose everything I’ve fought to keep. My body’s old, but it’s mine. I’ve earned every scar, every ache.”

Sam watched him momentarily, her face full of emotions she couldn’t describe. “And if something happens to me?”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “Then we adapt. We find another way. But I can’t go there pretending to be someone I’m not. You’re the one who can do this. I trust you.”

The ship’s horn blared, cutting through the mist and pulling them back to the moment. Sam glanced toward the dock, where the crew was beginning to board.

“Time to go,” she said quietly.

Jason turned to face her fully now, his expression softening as he reached out and touched her shoulder. “Be careful in there. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

“I won’t,” Sam said, her voice low and steady. Jason saw a glint of determination in her eyes. It told him she would do whatever it took to succeed. She was willing to pay any price.

She turned and started toward the dock, her movements brisk and purposeful. Jason watched her go, feeling an ache settle deep in his chest. He wanted to call after her, tell her to wait, and stop. But he stayed silent, rooted to the spot, watching as the gap between them widened.

Just before she reached the gangplank, Sam turned back one last time, her eyes meeting Jason’s across the distance. For a brief moment, neither moved, frozen in the unspoken understanding of what this mission meant.

Then she turned and boarded the ship, disappearing.

Jason stood alone on the shore, watching as the ship pulled away from the dock and began its slow sail toward Iceland. His hands were shaking now, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or something deeper. He’d let her go. He’d let her walk into danger, and he couldn’t follow.

The ship cut through the mist, its dark silhouette growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Jason exhaled slowly, his breath clouding the air in front of him. He was left behind, but this was her mission now. He had to trust her.

---

Onboard the ship, Sam kept her head down, creeping among the other servants and crew. The air was filled with the sounds of cargo being secured and orders being shouted. She made her way toward the lower decks, blending in as much as possible.

As she passed by a group of senior officers near the helm, she heard something. It made her stop dead in her tracks.

“They’re moving everything up,” one officer said to another, his voice low but distinct. “The Mars timeline has changed. They want to be out of here sooner than we thought.”

Sam tensed, listening carefully as the second officer responded. “How much sooner?”

“Within the month,” the first officer said. “They don’t want any delays. And the artifact? It’s already en route to Iceland for final transport.”

Sam’s heart raced. The original spiral was already heading to Iceland. The elites weren’t just planning—they were acting. And now the window was closing faster than they’d expected.

She needed to get this information to Jason and Elias.

But for now, all she could do was watch the shore disappear. Jason’s small figure faded into the mist. The ship sailed toward the fortress in Iceland.

Toward the heart of the elites’ plan.

---

Elias paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed the news. Deia sat at the table’s edge, her phone still glowing from Sam’s message. The tension in the room was thick, and the weight of the situation pressed down on both of them.

“The timetable’s changed,” Deia repeated, her voice tight. “The spiral is already en route to Iceland. They’re moving it to Mars within days. We don’t have time.”

Elias stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing. “We need to act now.”

“How?” Deia’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “We’re not even in position. We planned for weeks, not days. We don’t even know where they’re keeping the spiral in Iceland.”

Elias’s mind raced. “Sam’s in. She’s already in Iceland. That gives us one advantage. But she won’t be able to do it alone. If they’re prepping the spiral for transport to Mars, it will be locked down tighter than ever.”

Deia stared at the floor, her hands gripping the table’s edge. “Do we even have a way to get to Iceland fast enough?”

Elias paused, then reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “I might.”

Deia looked up sharply, hope flickering in her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve got an old contact,” Elias said, scrolling through his phone. “Back in my Nexus days, we did some work with private transport companies—ones that don’t ask too many questions if you pay well enough. There’s a man I know. He flies under the radar, no questions asked, as long as you have the credits.”

Deia’s brow furrowed. “You think he’ll take us? And get us to Iceland in time?”

Elias’s fingers hovered over the screen as he dialed. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. And if we’re lucky, he can get us there before the spiral’s already gone.”

Deia stood up, her energy shifting from frustration to action. “Alright. You talk to him. If he can get us to Iceland, we go. But what if we don’t make it in time? What if the spiral’s already on the way to Mars by the time we land?”

Elias pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes fixed on Deia. “Then we go after it. We meet it on Mars.”

Deia stared at him, incredulous. “On Mars? You realize what you’re saying, right?”

Elias gave her a grim smile. “It’s a long shot, but I’ve kept tabs on Nexus’s Mars logistics. The transport ship that’ll take the spiral to Mars faces a challenge, it can’t enter atmosphere and land. They will have to use a shuttle to reach orbit and the station where the transport ship is docked. If we can intercept them there…”

Deia shook her head, though her eyes sparkled with the fire of the impossible challenge ahead. “Intercepting a Nexus transport mid-route to Mars isn’t just a long shot, Elias. It’s suicidal.”

“But it’s the only way,” Elias said, lowering his voice. “If we miss them in Iceland, we can’t let the spiral get locked away on Mars. Once it’s in orbit, they’ll control the entire planet’s access to it.”

Deia exhaled sharply, her mind racing through the possibilities. “So, plan A: We get to Iceland, and try to intercept the spiral before it leaves. Plan B: If we miss it, we meet it in space before it reaches Mars.”

Elias nodded. “Exactly. It’s risky, but we’re running out of options.”

Deia chewed her lip, her mind already turning to logistics. “Sam said they’re planning to move within the month. We have days at most. If your contact can’t get us to Iceland right away—”

“He will,” Elias said, cutting her off as the phone connected. He stepped away, his voice low as he spoke to his contact. The conversation was quick, tense, and filled with quiet urgency. When Elias returned, his face was set with determination.

“It’s all set,” Elias said. “He’ll give us a ship in four hours. It’ll get us to Iceland in time to try and stop the transfer. And if we are too late for that, it can get us up to orbit.”

Deia looked at him with the question, “He’ll give us a ship?”

Elias nodded, “I had to tell him most of it. He knows what’s at stake. And there is a refurbished military courier ship waiting for us in orbit, one that can get us to Mars fast.”

Deia looked at Elias, “You trust him?”

Elias paused, “We have to. There is no other way.”

Deia nodded, feeling the surge of adrenaline flood her veins. “Alright. What about once we’re on the ground?”

“We’ll rendezvous with Sam,” Elias said. “She’s already embedded herself among the staff, so she’ll have eyes and ears on the ground. We’ll need her to help us get past security.”

“And if they’ve already started moving the spiral?” Deia asked though she knew the answer.

Elias met her gaze, his voice steady. “Then we chase them with the courier, to the station, or to Mars. Whatever it takes.”

Deia inhaled sharply, the gravity of their situation settling in. “It’s a hell of a crazy plan.”

“It’s the only one we’ve got,” Elias said, grabbing his jacket. “We need to get moving. Pack light—whatever you can carry, we’ll travel fast. The ships already have most of what we need.”

Deia nodded, already moving toward the door. “We’re going to need more than luck for this.”

Elias smiled grimly as he followed her out. “Luck isn’t going to be enough. But we’ve got one thing they don’t.”

Deia paused, looking back at him. “What’s that?”

Elias’s eyes burned with determination. “We’ve got nothing left to lose.”

---

Four hours later, Elias and Deia sat strapped into the small cockpit of the ballistic ship. It was cramped. The engines roared to life beneath them. Deia gave Elias a nod as she prepared for takeoff.

“Hang on,” Deia said, flipping switches and engaging the thrusters. “It’s going to be a fast ride.”

Deia glanced out the window as the ship hurtled forward, the ground falling away beneath them. The sky shifted to black as the ballistic ship reached the fringes of the atmosphere. Her mind raced through the following steps—reaching Iceland, finding Sam, stopping the spiral from leaving.

Elias’s words echoed in her mind. Then we go after it. We meet it on Mars…

She closed her eyes and steeled herself. This was it. The race against time had begun.

---

The wind howled as Elias and Deia crouched behind the jagged rocks near the fortress, the imposing structure looming ahead. The trip to Iceland had been a nightmare. They had nearly been caught twice. The first time was at the airport, where security was tighter than expected. The second time was when they tried to contact Sam. They’d spent hours figuring out a secure line to reach her without raising suspicion.

Now, they were here. Their bodies ached from the cold and the tension. They watched as Sam hurried toward them in the cover of night.

“Let’s go,” Sam whispered when she reached them, her breath coming in short gasps, eyes darting nervously over her shoulder. “We don’t have much time. The spiral’s being moved to the shuttle bay as we speak.”

Elias nodded. He helped Deia to her feet. They followed Sam toward the fortress’s hidden entrance, which was behind a cluster of massive boulders.

“How bad is security?” Deia asked, her voice low but urgent.

Sam didn’t look back as she keyed in a sequence on a hidden panel. “Worse than I expected. The shuttle’s under heavy guard, and they’ve doubled the patrols since they moved the spiral here. We’re going to have to be careful.”

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and they slipped inside, moving quickly down a dimly lit hallway. Every footstep echoed in the sterile, metallic environment. The air inside was tense, every corner feeling more like a trap than the last.

Elias couldn’t help but notice Sam’s strained expression as they moved deeper into the fortress. “You okay?”

She nodded, though her jaw was set tight. “Fine. Just… be ready. There’s a heavily guarded corridor ahead. I’ll need to get you past the guards. I’ll handle them.”

Deia shot her a concerned glance. “How?”

Sam didn’t answer, her pace quickening as they rounded the next corner. Ahead of them, the secure corridor stretched out, the flickering lights making it seem even longer. At the far end, two armed guards stood in front of a reinforced door, their rifles slung across their chests.

“We’re out of time,” Sam whispered. “The shuttle’s leaving any minute.”

Elias exchanged a quick look with Deia. “We can’t afford to get caught now. How are you planning to—”

Sam stepped forward before he could finish. She pulled her servant’s uniform tighter around her shoulders. Sam adjusted her posture to appear more subservient. She straightened, walking confidently toward the guards.

Elias’s heart leaped into his throat as he and Deia stayed hidden around the corner, watching as Sam approached the guards.

“Hold it,” one of them said, raising a hand. “What are you doing here? This area’s restricted.”

Sam gave them a practiced smile, her voice soft but firm. “I was sent to assist with the final checks before the transport leaves. The commanders wanted an extra pair of hands to speed things up.”

The guards exchanged a glance, clearly suspicious.

“You’re not on the manifest,” the second guard said, stepping forward, his hand hovering near his rifle. “We weren’t told about anyone else coming through here.”

Elias tensed, his eyes darting between Deia and the guards. They were going to blow Sam’s cover.

But before he could think of a plan, Sam made her move. In a flash, she lunged forward, grabbing the first guard’s rifle and slamming it upward into his face. The sound of bone crunching echoed through the hallway as the guard stumbled back, blood pouring from his nose.

The second guard barely had time to react before Sam twisted around, sending a sharp elbow into his throat. He choked, gasping for breath, but Sam wasn’t fast enough to stop him from pulling the trigger on his rifle.

The gunshot rang out, reverberating through the corridor.

Elias’s heart stopped as he saw Sam’s body jerk from the impact, a bright red stain blooming across her side.

“No!” Deia shouted, rushing forward as the guards crumpled to the ground.

Elias was right behind her, grabbing Sam as she collapsed, her breathing shallow and ragged.

“I’m fine,” Sam gasped, her face pale as she pressed a hand against the wound. “Go. You have to… you have to get to the shuttle.”

Deia knelt beside her, shaking her head. “We can’t leave you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Sam hissed, wincing in pain. “Go. Now.”

Elias glanced down the hallway, his mind racing. The reinforced door was slightly ajar, and the guards’ bodies sprawled in front of it. They could still make it. They had to.

“I’m sorry,” Elias whispered, his voice tight with guilt as he squeezed Sam’s hand. “We’ll come back for you with the spiral.”

Sam nodded weakly, her breath shallow. “Just go.”

Deia hesitated momentarily, her eyes filled with pain as she looked at Sam. But Elias grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the shuttle bay. They sprinted down the corridor, dodging past the guards’ bodies and pushing the door open.

The shuttle bay was massive, the ceiling towering above them, but their eyes locked on the small transport ship at the center of the room. A group of technicians finished the final checks as the engines roared.

“We’re too late,” Deia breathed, her voice breaking.

The shuttle was already lifting off the ground, the ramp sealing shut as it prepared to launch. Elias’s heart sank as he watched the transport rise, carrying the original spiral.

“We have to go,” Elias muttered, grabbing Deia’s arm again. “We’ll find another way. Come on.”

They ducked back through the door, retracing their steps as the alarm blared through the fortress. Elias’s mind was spinning. They’d missed their chance. The spiral was on its way to Mars, and they had nothing to show.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They had to get out—now.

Elias’s heart clenched when they reached the corridor where they’d left Sam. She was lying where they’d left her, her hand still pressed against the wound, but her eyes were closed.

“No…” Deia whispered, rushing forward. She knelt beside Sam, shaking her gently. “Sam, come on. We’re here.”

But Sam didn’t move.

Deia’s hands shook as she pressed her fingers against Sam’s neck, searching for a pulse. “She’s gone.”

Elias felt a cold numbness wash over him as he looked down at Sam’s body. She hadn’t reached a spiral. They hadn’t been able to save her.

“Come on,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled Deia to her feet. “We need to go.”

They left Sam’s body behind, slipping out of the fortress as the alarms blared. They went through the dense fog and back to the airstrip, to the ship that had brought them to Iceland.

---

Elias and Deia sat in the cramped cabin of the ship as it raced away from Iceland, the engines humming beneath them. 

“Where to?” Elias asked.

Deia took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. “We need to dock with the courier ship and beat them to Mars. It’s too late to reach the space station here in time. The space station at Mars is the last place we can intercept the spiral before it’s secured.”

“The Mars station?” Elias raised an eyebrow. “That’s a long shot.”

“It’s the only shot we’ve got,” Deia said, her voice stern, though her eyes still held the weight of Sam’s death.

Deia keyed in the new coordinates. “Buckle up. It’s going to be a rough ride.”

Elias leaned back in his seat, his mind racing with the next steps. They were too late for Iceland, but there was still a chance. They had to reach the station orbiting Mars before the elites did.

Before, the spiral was lost forever.

---

Maya sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the spiral model on her nightstand. The small, intricately designed device had been her companion for five years. Whenever she felt a headache coming on, a wave of exhaustion, or the nagging aches that came with aging, she’d reach for it. Its faint hum would fill the room, and within moments, she’d feel the warmth spread through her body. The healing was subtle but effective. Like magic, but real.

But this morning, the spiral was silent.

Maya reached for it, her fingers brushing the smooth surface. Nothing. No hum, no warmth. She tapped it and gave it a slight shake—still nothing.

“What the hell?” she muttered, turning it over to inspect the base. It was intact, just as it had always been.

She groaned, leaning back against the headboard, her body suddenly feeling heavier than it had in years. Her neck had a dull ache that she hadn’t felt in a long time, creeping down into her shoulders. She rolled her head, wincing.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it, grateful for the distraction. It was a message from her friend Kelly.

Hey, is your spiral working? Mine’s dead. Something’s going on. Let me know.

Maya blinked at the message, a slight dread curling in her stomach. She hadn’t thought to check if anyone else’s spiral had stopped working. She shot back a quick reply:

Nope. Mine’s down too. Do you think it’s a glitch?

Kelly’s response was almost immediate:

I don’t think so. I checked online—people are saying none of them are working, not just ours. The spirals aren’t working anywhere.

Maya’s heart sank as she read the message.

She swung her legs off the bed, the cold floor curling her toes. She walked into the bathroom, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her—healthy, vibrant. Younger than she’d felt in years, thanks to the spiral. She’d been 45 when she first bought it, but now, at 50, she looked… well, she looked 25. Maybe younger. The spiral had kept her body in perfect condition. It was like living in a constant state of renewal.

Until now.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message from Kelly:

This is bad, Maya. People are freaking out. They’re saying it’s because the original spiral is gone. No one knows where it went. Do you think it’s true?

Maya stared at the message, her throat tightening. Gone? The original spiral? That was just a myth, wasn’t it? Some stories had gone around about the elites controlling everything, hoarding the source of the spiral’s power. She had never really believed them.

She shot back a message:

It’s probably just a glitch. They’ll fix it soon.

But as she sent it, she wasn’t sure if she believed it herself. The ache in her neck was getting worse. She rubbed her shoulder, wincing as the stiffness crept deeper into her muscles.

Her phone rang. Kelly’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hey,” Maya said, answering quickly. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly’s voice came through, shaky with fear. “I tried everything—it’s like they’ve all just… stopped. I called the company, and they don’t know either. They’re saying it might take days to figure it out.”

“Days?” Maya repeated, disbelief flooding her voice. “People can’t go without the spirals for days. What about people who rely on them to stay alive? People with conditions?”

“Exactly,” Kelly said. “It’s going to get bad. Fast.”

Maya sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, the dull pain in her lower back flaring up for the first time in years. She hadn’t realized how much she had relied on the spiral for everything. Every little ache and minor discomfort was gone in seconds whenever she touched it. She’d taken it for granted. Now, her body felt like it was waking up from a long slumber, and it wasn’t happy.

“Are you okay?” Kelly asked, her voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” Maya lied, rubbing her temples as a minor headache began to pulse behind her eyes. “Just trying to figure this out. I’m sure they’ll fix it soon.”

“What if they don’t?” Kelly’s voice dropped to a whisper as if she were saying something forbidden. “What if this is permanent? What if the spirals are gone for good?”

Maya didn’t have an answer. The thought terrified her. She had forgotten what living without the constant safety net of the spiral’s healing felt like. She stood up and walked to the window, looking at the street below. Everything looked normal—people walking their dogs, cars rolling by—but an undercurrent of unease was in the air. It was subtle, but she could feel it.

She sighed, her body aching more with every minute that passed. “Let’s not panic yet, okay? Maybe it’s just a blip like the one last month.”

Kelly was silent for a moment. “Maya, if this is more than a blip, we’re in trouble. Everyone is.”

Maya closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window. “I know.”

They sat silently on the phone for a long moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Kelly finally said, her voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Maya said softly. “Let’s just hope it’s not the end.”

After hanging up, Maya stood in the middle of her bedroom, her eyes drifting back to the spiral on her nightstand. It sat there, silent and still, a relic of the life she had grown used to—a life where she didn’t have to worry about growing old, getting sick, or feeling pain.

Her neck ached, her back hurt, and for the first time in years, she felt her age creeping up on her. And it scared her more than she wanted to admit.

The spiral wasn’t just a tool. It had become a lifeline. Without it, the future felt uncertain.

---

The small, dilapidated shack where Lena lived with her two children was always too quiet in the mornings. The air inside was heavy and stale, despite the thin, tattered curtains fluttering weakly in the breeze from the cracked window. Today, though, the quiet felt different—heavier somehow.

Lena sat at the tiny kitchen table, staring at the spiral model in front of her. Its dull surface no longer glowed with the faint, comforting hum that had become their lifeline. Her calloused and rough hands hovered above it, trembling slightly.

“Mama?” her son, Tradiq, whispered from the corner where he lay on the thin mattress. His voice was weak, raspier than it had been the day before.

Lena glanced at him, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’ll be okay, baby. Just give it a minute.”

Tradiq’s brow furrowed, his eyes wide with worry. “Why isn’t it working?”

Lena didn’t have an answer. She didn’t have any answers.

The spiral model had always been there for them, miraculously intact, ever since she’d found it in the scrap yard. It saved and kept them alive when the contaminated water and food were nearly impossible to find. Her daughter, Mariam, had been sick more times than she could count, but the spiral always fixed her. It kept hunger from breaking their bodies apart and kept the diseases in the dirty water from taking them.

But now…

“It’ll come back,” Lena said, her voice wavering. “Maybe it’s just a glitch. It has to come back.”

Mariam sat up from her corner of the shack, her small, sunken face creased with worry. “But what if it doesn’t, Mama? What if it’s gone for good?”

Lena’s chest tightened, and she looked down at the spiral again, willing it to come back to life, hum, glow, and give them the strength to make it through one more day.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, but her voice had no conviction. She rubbed her hands over her face, pushing away the creeping fear in her gut.

Tradiq coughed weakly, and Lena flinched at the sound. His skin was pale, his lips dry and cracked. She could see the sickness creeping back into his body without the spiral. The water they drank—what little there was—had long since stopped being clean, but the spiral had kept them from getting too sick. Without it, they didn’t stand a chance.

Mariam stood up and shuffled over to the table, her bare feet scuffing against the dirt floor. “Mama, what do we do? What if the spiral’s broken?”

“It’s not broken,” Lena said sharply, surprising herself with the intensity of her voice. She didn’t want to scare them, but the truth was, she was terrified.

Mariam frowned, looking down at the spiral. “But it’s not working.”

Lena pressed her lips together, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I know.”

They sat silently for a few moments, the air in the shack growing heavier with each passing second. Lena’s mind raced. What were they supposed to do now? The spiral had been their only defense against the world outside—a world that didn’t care whether they lived or died.

Tradiq’s voice cut through the silence again, softer this time. “I’m hungry, Mama.”

Lena’s heart broke at the sound of those words. She had nothing to give him, nothing to ease the pain in his belly. The tiny bit of food she’d managed to scavenge yesterday was already gone. Without the spiral, they wouldn’t survive long.

She stood up suddenly, grabbing the spiral from the table and holding it tightly. “I’ll find a way to fix it. I’ll—”

“What if you can’t?” Mariam interrupted, her voice trembling. “What if it’s gone, Mama?”

Lena stared at her daughter, seeing the fear in her eyes. She wanted to lie, to tell her that everything would be fine. But what good would lying do now? The world outside had already taken so much from them—clean water, food, hope. The spiral had been the only thing keeping them afloat.

“I don’t know, Mariam,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “I don’t know.”

Tradiq coughed again, this time with a more profound and wetter sound. He curled into himself on the mattress, his small body trembling with the effort.

“Why isn’t it working?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lena clenched her fists around the spiral, feeling its cold, lifeless surface press into her palms. She wanted to scream, cry, throw it against the wall, but none of that would help. None of that would bring it back to life.

“I’m going to fix it,” she whispered, her voice more for herself than for them. “I’ll fix it.”

Mariam shook her head, her face pale. “You can’t, Mama. The spirals don’t work for anyone anymore.”

Lena’s heart stopped. “What?”

“I heard it from the kids in the alley,” Mariam said, her eyes wide and scared. “They said nobody’s spiral is working. Not anywhere.”

Lena felt the ground shift beneath her, her knees weak. Not anywhere?

“How could that be?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and desperation. “The spirals—they’ve always worked.”

Mariam’s voice cracked as she spoke. “They’re saying the original spiral is gone. It’s not on Earth anymore.”

Lena’s mind raced. The original spiral? She’d heard the rumors—everyone had—but never believed it was real. The spirals had just worked. She hadn’t questioned it.

Tradiq groaned in his sleep, his breath shallow and ragged. Lena dropped to her knees beside him, gently brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “No,” she whispered, her throat tight. “He can’t be sick again. He can’t…”

She pressed the spiral against his chest, willing it to do anything. But it was silent. Dead.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the truth. Without the spiral, they wouldn’t make it. Tradiq wouldn’t make it.

Lena sat back, cradling the spiral in her hands. It had been their lifeline, their hope. And now it was gone.

“We’ll figure something out,” she whispered, though she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she believed it.

Mariam sat beside her, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. “Mama, I’m scared.”

Lena wrapped her arm around her daughter, pulling her close as they sat together on the floor. The sound of Tradiq’s labored breathing filled the small, suffocating space. The spiral lay useless in her lap, a reminder of the hope that had slipped through her fingers.

And for the first time in years, Lena felt the world’s weight crashing down on her, heavier than she had ever imagined.

---

The courier ship hummed steadily through the void, its engines cutting through the silence of space. Deia sat in the cramped cabin, staring out the small window; her thoughts drifted back to Iceland. The stars outside twinkled distantly, cold and indifferent, but her mind was filled with the memory of something warmer. Something alive.

She shifted in her seat and glanced over at Elias. He was hunched over a console, running calculations and ensuring their trajectory was correct. They were en route to the space station orbiting Mars, their only chance to intercept the spiral before it was permanently secured.

“Hey, Elias,” Deia said, her voice soft but insistent.

Elias didn’t look up, his focus still on the screen. “What’s up?”

She hesitated momentarily, unsure how to explain what had been on her mind since Iceland. “Back in Iceland… when we were getting close to the fortress, I felt something.”

Elias finally glanced up from the console, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You felt something?”

Deia shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words. “I mean, I felt it—the spiral. Not just the models but the real one. I could feel its presence. It’s hard to explain, but it was like this… low hum deep inside me. A connection.”

Elias leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “You’re saying you sensed the original spiral?”

She nodded. “Yeah, and it was stronger closer to the fortress. It wasn’t overwhelming, but I knew it was there, almost like it was pulling at me. And then—when the shuttle left—I felt it leave.”

Elias rubbed his chin, his mind already working through the implications. “You didn’t tell me this before.”

“I didn’t understand it then,” Deia said, running a hand through her hair. “It wasn’t until the shuttle left with the spiral that I realized what was happening. The moment it was out of range, that connection—snapped. I haven’t felt anything since.”

Elias’s brow furrowed in thought. “It makes sense that you’d have a connection to the spiral. You’ve touched it directly before, haven’t you? The real one.”

Deia nodded. “Yeah, when we first found it.”

Elias leaned forward, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the armrest. “That could be it. The artifact doesn’t just heal and reset people—it creates a bond with those affected by it. You might be tuned to it in a way the rest of us aren’t. Maybe that’s why you could feel it when it was nearby.”

Deia’s eyes met his, a flicker of hope in her gaze. “Do you think I could use that to find it? When we get to the station, what if I can feel it again, like a… like a beacon?”

Elias was silent for a moment, clearly considering the possibility. “It’s not impossible. If the spiral is on the shuttle and it stops at the station, you might be able to sense it. That could give us an edge, especially if security’s tight.”

Deia exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and anxiety flooding through her. “I just don’t know if I can trust it. It’s not like I can control the feeling—it just happens.”

Elias leaned back, studying her carefully. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Deia. If you can feel the spiral, even if it’s just a sense, it could give us the upper hand. We’re going into this blind. Any advantage, no matter how small, could be the difference between success and failure.”

She nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know? If I can’t feel it again if we miss the shuttle…”

Elias interrupted her, his voice firm but reassuring. “Then we adjust. But we have to try.”

Deia looked back out the window, her thoughts drifting again. The connection she’d felt in Iceland had been faint but undeniable. It might lead them to the spiral if she could feel it again when they reached the station. But the thought of failing weighed heavily on her—of getting to the station and finding nothing, of missing their one chance to stop the elites from locking the spiral away.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “I’ll be ready.”

Elias nodded, turning back to his console, his fingers tapping the keys. “We’ll figure this out. We have to.”

Deia leaned back in her seat, her eyes drifting shut momentarily. She repeated the feeling in her mind—the hum, the warmth, the pull of the spiral. It had been distant but constant, like a thread connecting her to something ancient and powerful. And now, as they hurtled through space toward the asteroid belt, she could only hope that connection would return.

Because without it, they had no idea what they were walking into.

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Author’s note: Thank you for continuing to read my story. Your thoughts and suggestions at this point are very welcome, so leave me a comment, positive or negative! The next chapter is “The Weight of Time“.