Page 81 of Destined For Her Alien Daddy

I look toward the archive node. Its surface reflects no light, yet somehow I feel the depth of it, as if memory itself has mass. “No,” I admit. “Probably not enough.”

The honesty seems to cost him something. His shoulders lower by a fraction, and he turns to study the bridge again. I can almost see the calculations moving behind his eyes: angles, cover, possible collapse points, pursuit timelines, my likelihood of sprinting across the bridge if he refuses.

That last one is probably high.

Finally, Ghar exhales through his nose. “Brakk checks the first ten meters. I cross next. Sira follows. You come after her.”

My relief comes so fast it leaves me dizzy. “Thank you.”

His eyes cut back to me. “Do not thank me. Stay exactly where I place you.”

I start to argue, but the exhaustion in his voice stops me.

Guilt slips in again, quieter and sharper this time. He is not afraid of the node because he is stupid or small-minded. He understands danger in ways I can only study after the fact. He is still going forward because I cannot stop reaching for the thing that may break us.

“Okay,” I say.

Ghar looks momentarily suspicious. “Okay?”

“I can obey one instruction.”

Brakk coughs into his fist. “Can we get that recorded for history?”

I point at him. “I said one.”

Brakk steps onto the newly formed bridge with exaggerated caution, testing each plate with his weight before shifting forward. “If this thing drops me into the abyss, I am haunting all of you. Especially the archive. I will become a ghost and make rude noises during every sacred revelation.”

Sira’s mouth curves faintly. “That may improve some revelations.”

Brakk turns just enough to look at her. “You are funnier than you pretend.”

“I pretend very little.”

“Terrifying.”

The bridge holds.

We cross in the order Ghar dictates. When my boots touch the first black plate, a vibration rises through me and the archive case warms against my side. The abyss below does not reveal a bottom. Silver motes drift through it like stars seen from the wrong side of night. Each step toward the ring makes the node at the center seem larger, though it does not visibly change size.

Halfway across, distant impacts echo from the chamber above.

The Choir has found the aperture route.

Ghar hears it too. His head turns slightly, but he does not stop moving. “Faster.”

By the time we reach the suspended ring, my heart is hammering for reasons beyond fear. The archive node rises from the center like a black seed, smooth, oval, and taller than I am. No dust mars its surface. No crack, seam, or erosion mark interrupts the material. It looks untouched by every billion years stacked above it.

Sira approaches slowly. “This is not merely preserved.”

I lift the scanner core toward the node. “It’s sealed outside ordinary time.”

Ghar’s hand tightens around his weapon. “Is that a theory or a problem?”

“Yes.”

Brakk groans. “I walked into that one.”

The node responds to the archive case before I touch anything.