[DIMENSIONAL CROSSING LOG]
[Subject: David Han]
[Distance: 47 dimensional layers from origin]
[Status: In transit]
[Destination: Unknown realm]
[Estimated Time of Arrival: 10 minutes]
Elara stood before the throne, her infant son pressed against her chest, facing a room full of people who had already decided her fate. Three days of this. Three days of meetings, arguments, threats barely disguised as negotiations.
"Elara, come on." King Aldric leaned forward in his throne, exhaustion weighing down every word. "We've been through this. Dr. Kaelen explained everything. There's nothing there."
"There's everything there," Elara shot back. "He's my son."
"He's not your son anymore." Dr. Kaelen stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. "I delivered him, remember? I was there when we ran the first tests. Brain activity above the brainstem? Zero. Dreams, thoughts, any kind of awareness? Nothing. Elara, you're keeping a body alive. That's all."
"That's not true."
"It is true." Kaelen held up her data pad. "Look at the scans yourself. We've done everything, traditional methods, quantum imaging, hell, we even tried some of the old techniques that are technically illegal. The cortex never developed properly. It's like having a house with all the rooms built but no hallways connecting them."
"His name was going to be Maelon," Elara whispered, looking down at the small face. "We talked about it for months. You said he had your grandfather's nose."
Aldric closed his eyes. "Don't do this to yourself."
"I'm not doing anything except refusing to let strangers dissect my baby."
"Nobody wants to dissect him," Chancellor Theron interjected, his voice carrying the strain of three sleepless days. "The Technocracy wants to study the neural pathways, yes. Understand what went wrong. Maybe prevent it from happening to other families."
"By cutting open his brain."
"By learning from what happened," Theron corrected. "Elara, we're not monsters. We understand this is horrible for you. But that child... what you're carrying isn't really alive. Not in any way that matters."
"He matters to me!"
"We know," Aldric said softly. "God, Elara, you think this is easy for any of us? You think I wanted this? I spent nine months excited about being a father."
From the gallery, Duke Harren made a disgusted sound. "Should never have happened in the first place. Witch blood mixing with royal lines? Of course it produced an abomination."
Elara's head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously. "What did you say?"
"Harren, shut up," Aldric warned.
But Harren was already standing, his face flushed with old resentment. "I said what everyone's thinking. Three hundred years of careful bloodline management, and you throw it away for a piece of dark magic ass. This is what happens when you ignore tradition."
"Enough," Theron said sharply.
"No, let him talk," Elara said, her voice going deadly quiet. "I want to hear what else he thinks."
"I think," Harren continued, emboldened by wine and years of suppressed anger, "that you're a corrupting influence who never should have been allowed near the royal family. And I think that thing you're holding is proof that some bloodlines shouldn't mix."
The temperature in the throne room dropped ten degrees.
"Harren, sit down," Aldric ordered, but his voice carried an edge of real worry now.
Before anyone could respond, a new voice cut through the tension. "If I may interrupt this touching family drama."
Everyone turned toward the speaker, a tall, gaunt man in Technocracy whites who had been observing silently from the far corner. Dr. Voss stepped forward, his pale eyes fixed hungrily on the bundle in Elara's arms.
"Dr. Voss," Theron said with obvious relief. "Please, help us explain the scientific value..."
"Oh, the value is extraordinary," Voss said, his voice carrying an enthusiasm that made Elara's skin crawl. "A brain-dead infant born to one of the last three witches in existence? The genetic markers alone will revolutionize our understanding of mystical inheritance patterns."
Elara felt ice forming in her veins. "One of the last three?"
"Oh yes," Voss continued, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension. "Your bloodline... practically extinct. We've been tracking it for decades. After you? Maybe one witch in the Eastern Provinces. Possibly another in the South. That's it." He smiled, and it was the expression of a man contemplating Christmas morning. "Which makes your son's corpse absolutely priceless."
"He's not a corpse," Elara said, her voice dangerously quiet.
"Functionally, he is." Voss pulled out a data pad, scrolling through notes with obvious excitement. "No cortical activity, no potential for consciousness development. But the preserved neural tissue? The genetic samples? We'll be able to map every mystical pathway, understand how magical abilities manifest at the cellular level."
"Dr. Voss," Aldric interrupted, clearly uncomfortable with the man's enthusiasm. "Perhaps we could discuss the technical details later..."
"Why wait?" Voss waved him off. "She should understand the magnitude of what we're offering. This isn't just autopsy, Your Majesty. We're talking about comprehensive genetic analysis, neural pathway mapping, tissue cultivation for extended study. We estimate at least eighteen months of productive research from the specimen."
"Eighteen months?" Elara's voice cracked.
"Conservative estimate," Voss said cheerfully. "With proper preservation... we might get two years. The genetic markers stay stable after death. We'll learn more about witch biology from this one subject than we have in the past century."
The room had gone deadly silent. Even Harren looked uncomfortable with Voss's clinical enthusiasm.
"You're talking about my baby," Elara whispered, clutching her son tighter.
"I'm talking about the greatest scientific opportunity of our generation," Voss corrected, his eyes gleaming. "Do you have any idea how rare authentic witch genetic material is? Most of your kind were exterminated centuries ago. This represents a chance to understand powers that shaped the old world."
Theron cleared his throat. "Dr. Voss, perhaps a more... diplomatic approach..."
"Why be diplomatic about science?" Voss shrugged. "She's rational, or was before grief... she should appreciate what her son's death could accomplish. Human knowledge, medical breakthroughs..."
"Breakthroughs," Elara repeated, her voice hollow.
"Absolutely. If we could understand how magic works... replicate it. Medicine, defense, human potential..." Voss's excitement was building. "Your son's sacrifice could benefit millions."
The temperature in the throne room began to drop.
"Dr. Voss," Dr. Kaelen said urgently, "I think you should stop talking."
But Voss was too caught up in his vision to notice the warning signs. "The preservation process is quite elegant, actually. We'll maintain the brain in specialized solution for sectioning, while the genetic samples can be cultured indefinitely. Every cell will contribute to our understanding."
"Every cell," Elara repeated, and something dark and terrible was creeping into her voice.
"Every single one," Voss confirmed with scientific pride. "We'll catalog everything. Map every neural pathway, sequence every gene. Your son will advance human knowledge in ways you can't imagine."
"Dr. Voss," Aldric said sharply, "that's enough."
But it was already too late. The darkness was pooling at Elara's feet like spilled oil, and her smile had become something that made grown men step backward.
"You know what?" she said, her voice carrying an undertone that made the stone walls themselves seem to shiver. "You're absolutely right about one thing. This will be a learning experience."
"Elara," Dr. Kaelen said urgently, "your vitals are spiking. Whatever you're thinking..."
"I'm thinking," Elara said, darkness beginning to coil around her like living smoke, "that Dr. Voss should be the first to learn what happens when you threaten a witch's child."
"Guards," Theron called out, his voice sharp with alarm. "Defensive positions. Now."
"Surrender the child, Elara," Aldric said, standing from his throne. "Don't make this worse than it already is."
"Worse?" Elara's laugh sent frost spiraling across the marble floor. "Dr. Voss just told me exactly how he's going to spend the next two years cutting up my baby. How could it possibly get worse?"
"Last chance," Theron said, nodding to the guards. "Give us the child."
"No."
Theron nodded to the guards. "Take him."
"I SAID NO!"
Dark energy exploded from Elara like a nuclear blast. But it wasn't aimed at the throne room in general. It lanced directly toward Dr. Voss with surgical precision.
"Protective detail, engage!" one of Voss's bodyguards barked.
Four figures in Technocracy armor materialized around Voss, their personal shields flaring to life just as Elara's darkness struck. The energy hit the barriers and scattered like liquid mercury, hissing and crackling as it tried to find purchase.
"Magnificent!" Voss breathed, his eyes wide with genuine wonder as he watched the dark energy writhe against his guards' shields. "Look at the way it adapts, tries different vectors of attack. The readings are incredible!"
He was actually smiling as shadow clawed at the air inches from his face, pulling out a specialized scanner and pointing it at Elara.
"Are you insane?" Theron shouted over the magical chaos. "She's trying to kill you!"
"Exactly!" Voss called back, adjusting his scanner settings. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited to observe authentic witch magic in a combat scenario? The last documented case was eighty-seven years ago!"
"Elara, stop!" Aldric shouted, but there was no command in it, only desperate concern. "You're going to get yourself killed!"
"Sir," one of Voss's guards said through his helmet comm, "should we neutralize the threat?"
"Not yet," Voss replied, still recording. "I want to see her full capabilities first. Note how the energy signature shifts with emotional intensity. Fascinating."
The Technocracy guards raised their weapons, strange crystalline devices that hummed with contained energy. When they fired, the beams weren't the clean plasma of the royal guards. They were something else entirely. Something that burned through magical defenses like acid.
Elara's shield cracked instantly. The first beam caught her in the shoulder, spinning her halfway around. The smell of her own charred flesh made her gag, but she kept her son pressed tight against her chest.
"Perfect targeting," Voss observed clinically, making notes even as Elara screamed in pain. "See how the mystical countermeasures bypass her natural defenses? Three generations of weapons development paying off."
"You planned this," Aldric said, horror dawning in his voice. "You deliberately provoked her."
"Of course I did," Voss replied matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off his instruments. "When will I get another chance to study a witch in actual combat? The data we're collecting is worth more than the specimen itself."
"Stand down!" Raith ordered his men as they moved to intervene. "Those are our people!"
"Belay that!" Aldric's voice cracked like a whip. "Stand down! Do not engage the Technocracy forces!"
Raith's face twisted with anguish, but he repeated the order. "All units, stand down! Weapons safe!"
The royal guards lowered their plasma rifles, horror written across their faces as they watched their former queen being systematically burned alive for one man's scientific curiosity.
"Sir," one of them said desperately, "we should..."
"We should follow orders," Raith said through gritted teeth, but his hand shook on his weapon.
Elara staggered as another beam caught her in the leg. The Technocracy weapons were designed specifically for beings like her, each hit bypassing her magical defenses and searing directly into flesh. She tried to strike back, sending tendrils of darkness toward the armored figures, but their shields held.
"Note the adaptation patterns," Voss said excitedly to his recording device. "She's learning our countermeasures in real-time. Incredible cognitive processing under extreme duress."
"You sick bastard!" Elara screamed, pouring everything she had into one last attack. The darkness that erupted from her was different now, older, more primal. It bypassed the shields entirely, striking directly at the minds of Voss's guards.
Two of them collapsed immediately, blood streaming from their noses as something vital snapped in their brains. The third managed to scream before the shadows forced him to turn his weapon on himself.
"Outstanding!" Voss shouted, completely oblivious to his men dying around him. "Direct neural assault! I've never seen anything like it!"
But the fourth guard was still standing, and his shot took Elara in the back.
"NO!" Raith started forward instinctively, but Aldric's hand caught his arm.
"That's an order, Captain!"
Elara fell, rolled, kept moving with desperate determination toward the window. The royal guards watched in tortured silence as she staggered past them, her body a map of plasma burns, her son still clutched protectively against what remained of her chest.
"She's heading for the window!" Voss called out, his excitement undimmed by the carnage. "Don't let the specimen escape!"
The remaining Technocracy guard pursued her, weapon charging for another shot. But as he raised it, one of the royal guards "accidentally" bumped into him, sending his aim wide. The beam scorched harmless stone instead of flesh.
"Clumsy of me," the guard muttered.
Elara reached the massive stained glass window behind the throne. She could hear Voss behind her, still calling out orders, still treating her son like a laboratory sample even as she bled out on his floors.
"Elara!" Aldric's voice, high with genuine anguish. Despite everything, despite the politics and the impossible situation, he'd loved her once.
More plasma caught her as she ran. Her right leg buckled as superheated energy seared through muscle and bone. She fell, rolled, kept moving with desperate determination. Her son's weight felt immense now, but she kept him pressed against the parts of her chest that still had skin.
The possessed guards flung themselves at their comrades with suicidal fury, creating just enough chaos for Elara to reach the window. She could smell her own flesh cooking, could feel her right eye beginning to boil in its socket from the heat damage.
The stained glass exploded outward as she dove through it, trailing blood and shadow. Twenty stories of empty air stretched below.
The fall should have killed them both. But Elara's magic, fueled by rage and desperation and love, wrapped around them like wings of shadow. They hit the ground hard enough to crack the pavement but soft enough to survive.
Barely.
Elara couldn't feel her legs. Could barely see through her remaining eye. But she could hear voices, shouts, the sound of hover-units converging. She'd landed in Victory Square, right in front of the war memorial. Hundreds of people, all staring, some recording with their implants.
"Oh gods," someone whispered. "Is that the queen?"
"The witch queen," another voice, but not cruel. Pitying. "Look what they did to her."
Half her body was charred black, skin peeling away in sheets. Her right arm was mostly bone now, flesh burned away by plasma fire. But her left arm still worked, still held her son tight against the only part of her chest that had flesh remaining.
"She's protecting the baby," a woman said, tears in her voice. "Even like that, she's still protecting him."
She tried to stand, managed only to prop herself against the memorial's base. Her son was still breathing, still alive in the mechanical way the implants made possible. Above, she could see faces in the shattered window. Watching. Waiting.
More security arrived. A full containment unit, shields up, weapons charged. They formed a perfect circle around her. No escape. No hope.
"Ma'am," an officer called out through a speaker. "Release the child and surrender. Medical units are standing by."
"Medical units," she laughed, tasting copper. "To keep me alive for trial? Or to harvest his organs while they're fresh?"
"Ma'am, please..."
"Do you know what they want to do?" She shouted to the crowd, to the recording implants, to anyone who would listen. "They want to cut up my baby! Turn him into research! Is that the kingdom you're proud of?"
The crowd stirred uneasily. Some looked away. Others pressed closer, morbid curiosity overcoming caution.
That's when the sky changed.
The clouds above Victory Square turned crimson. Not sunset colors, but deep red like fresh blood. It spread fast across the sky, maybe thirty seconds from gray to that unnatural scarlet. People in the square looked up, some pointing, others backing away.
The air started crackling with energy you could feel on your skin.
Then something ripped through the sky.
A circle of red energy tore into existence fifteen feet up, ten feet across. The portal hummed with power that made your teeth ache, your ears pop. Through it, you could see metal walls and blinking lights, clearly another place entirely. Somewhere that definitely wasn't this world.
The thing just hung there, casting everything below in crimson light. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in seconds. A few people in the crowd started running.
From the depths of the crimson portal, something descended.
A sphere of pure scarlet energy dropped through the dimensional gateway with purposeful force, its surface so perfectly round it resembled a massive drop of fresh blood. The orb pulsed with contained power as it descended toward the memorial plaza with mechanical precision.
Inside the sphere, barely visible through its translucent walls, two forms of pure energy writhed and merged. One the compressed consciousness of David Han, the other an artificial intelligence, its digital essence wrapped protectively around the human consciousness it had been commanded to safeguard.
The sphere struck the ground between Elara and the security forces with enough force to crack the stone beneath it.
As it landed, thick black tendrils erupted from its base, driving deep into the cracked pavement like roots seeking soil. The dark appendages spread outward, anchoring the sphere with such force that the stone around them began to glow from the pressure. Within seconds, the space around the landing site became impenetrable, the air itself seeming to solidify into an invisible barrier.
Systems came online with mechanical precision.
[DIMENSIONAL BREACH ACHIEVED]
[PORTAL STABILIZATION: 73% AND DECLINING]
[EMERGENCY ENTRY PROTOCOL INITIATED]
[ANALYZING NEW DIMENSIONAL PARAMETERS...]
→ Gravity Differential: +12% from origin dimension
→ Atmospheric Composition: Compatible
→ Technological Interference: Minimal
→ Local Temporal Flow: Unable to establish baseline
[UNNAMED AI SYSTEM ONLINE]
[SCANNING LOCAL ENVIRONMENT...]
[SCAN COMPLETE]
→ Hostile Forces Detected: 47 armed personnel
→ Weapons Status: Charged and ready
→ Civilian Casualties: 12 dead, 8 critical
[PRIMARY TARGET: FEMALE EXO-ENTITY – DESIGNATION UNKNOWN]
→ Identity: Unknown
→ Classification: Female Exo-Entity – Type: Arcane Hostile
→ Severe Plasma Burns: 73% body surface
→ Internal Hemorrhaging: Critical Level
→ Estimated Time Remaining: 00:02:47
→ Magical Energy Signature: Declining rapidly
→ Threat Assessment: Minimal due to imminent biological failure
[SECONDARY TARGET: MALE INFANT – BRAIN DEAD CONFIRMED]
→ Age: 72 to 77 hours post-birth
→ Neural Activity: Brainstem only
→ Cortical Regions: Zero electrical activity
→ Medical Implants: Functional – maintaining life support
→ Genetic Compatibility: 100% match for consciousness transfer
→ Body Integrity: Fully viable for host requirements
[TACTICAL ASSESSMENT]
→ Security Perimeter: Fully established
→ Escape Routes: Zero conventional options
→ Civilian Shield: 200+ individuals detected
→ Media Coverage: Multiple recording devices active
→ Portal Energy Reserves: 12% remaining
→ WARNING: Insufficient power for sustained operation
[INITIATING EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS...]
→ Deploying Dimensional Anchor
→ Activating Protective Barriers
→ Beginning Consciousness Transfer Sequence
→ CRITICAL WARNING: Power depletion imminent
The scarlet portal materialized fifteen feet above the memorial plaza, a perfect ring of energy that hummed with contained power. It descended with mechanical precision, establishing a barrier between Elara and the security forces.
"Command, this is Raith!" Security Commander barked into his comm, his voice tight with alarm. "We have an unidentified energy anomaly directly over the target zone! Energy signature is off the charts, nothing in our databases matches this technology. Requesting immediate backup and heavy weapons authorization!"
He switched to the tactical frequency. "All units, Priority Alpha! Unknown hostile technology detected! Establish maximum suppression fire on the anomaly! Use everything you've got pulse rifles, plasma cannons, kinetic rounds! Do not let that thing stabilize!"
[INCOMING WEAPONS FIRE DETECTED]
→ Pulse Rounds: 47 impacts
→ Plasma Bolts: 23 impacts
→ Energy Absorption Rate: 96%
→ Barrier Integrity: Holding at optimal levels
[INITIATING INFANT EXTRACTION...]
→ Extending Containment Field Around Target
→ Medical Implants: Responding normally
→ Vital Signs: Stable
→ Beginning Levitation Sequence
The baby rose from Elara's arms, encased in a translucent cocoon of crimson energy. The witch's burned hand reached desperately upward.
"No!" Elara's voice cracked. "You can't have him!"
As the child entered the sphere, something extraordinary happened. The orb began to expand, growing from the size of a basketball to something large enough to house a full-grown person.
The surface became more translucent, revealing what looked like thick, blood-red fluid swirling within. A grotesque sort of amniotic fluid. Organic-looking tissue began forming along the inner walls, creating what appeared to be a placenta-like membrane that pulsed with its own rhythm. The baby floated suspended in this alien womb, connected by threads of energy that looked disturbingly like umbilical cords.
[ENERGY RESERVES INSUFFICIENT FOR EXTENDED COMMUNICATION]
→ Establishing Neural Link
A thin tendril of energy touched Elara's forehead. The connection was brief, but something fundamental passed between them. The intelligence behind the touch was vast, alien to this world, struggling with unfamiliar concepts and languages it had never encountered. But intention transcended words - images flooded her mind: the child safe, growing, protected by something determined and utterly foreign to this realm.
The meaning was unmistakable, transmitted directly into her consciousness without language. A promise made not in words the entity didn't yet understand, but in absolute certainty that crossed dimensional boundaries.
"Will he live?" she whispered.
More images responded - the child breathing, growing stronger, guided by an intelligence that would never abandon its charge, even as it learned to navigate this strange new world. The commitment was wordless but unbreakable.
The alien intelligence began its work immediately. David's consciousness, compressed into quantum data streams, flowed into the infant's empty neural pathways. Not an awakening - the adult mind would remain dormant until the brain could support full awareness. But the foundation was being laid, the neural architecture carefully restructured by something that understood both worlds.
The security forces, meanwhile, had regrouped and were calling for reinforcements.
"Heavy weapons incoming!" someone shouted. "Clear the civilians!"
[HIGH-ENERGY WEAPONS DETECTED]
→ CIVILIAN CASUALTIES PROBABLE
→ INITIATING ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE
The portal pulsed once. Every electronic device within three blocks died instantly. Victory Square plunged into darkness.
[CONSCIOUSNESS TRANSFER SEQUENCE]
→ Source: David Han – Neural Patterns (Stable)
→ Target: Infant Brain – Prepared for Integration
→ Transfer Progress: 37%... 81%... 100%
→ Integration Status: Successful
→ Dormancy Protocols: Engaged – Subject will remain unconscious until neural development matures
[CLASSIFICATION: FEMALE EXO-ENTITY FUNCTIONS CRITICAL]
→ ESTIMATED TIME REMAINING: 00:00:23
The infant began to cry, not David's consciousness, which remained deep in dormancy, but the body's automatic response to neural restructuring.
Elara lay against the memorial's base, her remaining eye fixed on the cocoon. Blood pooled beneath her, each breath shallower than the last. But she watched. She waited.
For just a moment, the infant's eyes opened. Empty eyes. Not her son, she knew that now. But seeing them open, seeing life where there had been nothing...
The baby looked in her direction with those dark eyes, so much like Aldric's. There was no recognition there, no awareness. Just the automatic response of a living body. But it was enough.
Her son's body lived. Breathed. Would grow and learn and become something new. Someone was protecting him now, something far more powerful than she could ever be. Something that had promised to guard him, and she believed that promise with every fiber of her being
Elara's cracked lips curved into the faintest smile. Joy flooded through her, pure, overwhelming relief. He would be safe. He would live. Not as her son, but as someone who deserved the chance she could never give.
"Live well," she whispered. "That will be enough."
[FEMALE EXO-ENTITY: BIOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS DECEASED]
The infant's eyes closed again, returning to dormancy. But on Elara's face, frozen in death, was something that hadn't been there in days, peace.
[MISSION PARAMETERS FULFILLED]
→ David Han Consciousness: Successfully Transferred
→ Host Body: Viable and Protected
→ Protective Barrier: Active
→ System Status: Entering Hibernation Mode
→ UNNAMED AI SYSTEM OFFLINE
The scarlet light faded. The cocoon settled gently, its protective field flickering but holding. Inside, an infant's body housed the dormant soul of a man who had died saving his family, now given a second chance by the sacrifice of a mother he would never remember.
In the crowd, people knelt. Some in fear. Some in reverence.
Hours earlier, in a world 47 dimensional layers away, his story had begun with three missing fingers and a choice that would reshape reality itself.