XCVI
The alien scientist's voice vibrated through the library like a tuning fork struck too hard, the panoramic mirror‑window shuddering as it held open the view of the shade realm.
"We approximate that the giant mirror will be finished within a week," it said. "We cannot interfere. There are too few of our species. If they succeed, there will be great upheaval in the universes. Everything will go out of balance, and we cannot finish our experiments if the spirits are in chaos."
Cole was already on his radio, voice low and urgent, relaying everything to Captain Norris. Beef stood beside you like a living wall, gun steady, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the alien as if sheer muscle mass could intimidate a creature made of shadows.
One week to prepare for an invasion from the spirit world. It wasn't going to be anything the government had ever trained for.
The alien scientist's limbs twisted anxiously, cloak rippling like smoke caught in a storm.
"We surmise, earth woman," it said, "that the only way to prevent this invasion is to stop it from the spirit world itself, before they finish the mirror and invade."
Cole froze mid‑sentence.
Beef lowered his radio slowly.
You felt the hat‑man's presence behind you, his shadow stretching unnaturally long across the floor, his golden eyes glowing with a dangerous, knowing light.
The alien continued, voice trembling with urgency.
"You must enter the shade realm again. You must disrupt the construction of the great mirror. You must prevent the council from gathering the remaining soul energy. If they complete the gate, your world will be overrun."
Cole swallowed hard.
"Miss… you're saying you have to go in there?"
Beef's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"Into that place with the dead things."
The alien nodded, its form flickering.
"You are the only living being who has traversed our realm and returned. You are the only one whose soul resonance matches the mirror's frequency. You are the only one the shades will recognize."
The hat‑man stepped forward, tail lashing.
"Darling," he murmured, voice low and sharp, "they're asking you to walk into the lion's mouth."
The alien bowed its head.
"We will guide you. We will protect you as much as we can. But the breach must be stopped from within."
Cole looked at you, eyes wide but steady.
"Miss… if you go, we go."
Beef nodded once, massive and resolute.
"No way you're walking into a ghost army alone."
The hat‑man hissed softly.
"They cannot follow," the alien said gently. "Only the earth woman may pass through the mirror. Only her soul is attuned."
Cole's face tightened. Beef's jaw clenched.
The hat‑man's fur bristled.
The alien lifted one long, trembling limb toward you.
"You have one week. Prepare your body. Prepare your mind. Prepare your allies. When the time comes, we will open the way."
The panoramic view flickered, the shade army shifting, the great mirror pulsing like a heartbeat.
The alien's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Earth woman… your world depends on you."
And the mirror shuddered again — because the countdown had already begun.
"You took me out of my body once, and I traveled through the mirror. Can you do that to other people? Like soldiers?"
The alien's limbs twisted, cloak rippling like smoke.
"Yes. One or two at a time is not a problem. It relies on the psychic capacity of our species. We have never done more than a few people at a time, and they would need a reservoir of spirit energy to exist for very long in spirit form."
Cole muttered something that sounded like holy hell.
Beef whispered, "Spirit form…?"
The alien continued, voice vibrating through the mirror.
"There are not many that have your capacity, young lady. Your energy matrix is atypical from others of your species. You are a fascinating specimen."
The hat‑man hissed at the word specimen.
You didn't flinch.
"How many can you do at once, and how long can it last?"
The alien bowed its head.
"For a tethered person, to take them out of their body for more than one or two hours is risking un‑tethering, and permanent death."
Cole stiffened. Beef's jaw locked.
"My personal capacity is three people. For my compatriots on the ship, in total we can do a dozen humans, for two hours at most. Then they would need to be transported back to their bodies and re‑tethered."
You nodded, absorbing the numbers, the limits, the risks.
Then you said the thing that made Cole stare at you like you'd just volunteered to wrestle a ghost.
"We don't need to take on the army of spirits. All we need to do is shatter their mirror, and make sure the plan fails."
The alien's limbs froze.
Cole lowered his gun slightly.
Beef blinked.
The hat‑man's eyes gleamed with approval.
"Darling," he murmured, "that is exactly the kind of thinking that terrifies both governments and ghosts."
Destroy the great mirror before the shade council finishes it.
The alien scientist leaned closer, its form flickering with something like relief.
"Earth woman… that may be the only way."
Cole exhaled slowly, adrenaline still buzzing through him.
Beef nodded once, massive and resolute.
The hat‑man stepped beside you, tail flicking like a metronome of danger.
And the alien whispered:
"We will prepare the tethering protocols. You must choose your team."
The plan didn't come together in a conference room or a war table, it came together in great aunt's library, with an alien scientist half‑phased through a mirror, two special‑forces liaisons gripping their weapons, the hat‑man bristling like a supernatural sentinel, and me standing at the center like the only person in the room who'd already survived this kind of madness.
"Earth woman, you must leave a piece of your soul mirror to Captain Norris for communication. Everyone else can communicate through mechanical means." The alien took the soul mirror and with a deft snap, gave half of it to the captain. "We can reattach the pieces later, as it does incorporate your spirit."
The alien scientist laid out the constraints. Three people were attached to each alien scientist, who would untether them and stay on the ship. Twelve humans total.
The soldiers would have two hours maximum in spirit form, any longer risks permanent un‑tethering and death to the human body. Beef muttered something about "ghost‑time limits." But they didn't back down.
Captain Norris took command of the tactical side immediately. His men would create distractions for the shade army and draw attention away from the great mirror using tactical strikes and bombs. They would keep the shade council's forces scattered and prevent shades from massing at the gate.
Meanwhile, my strike team would go straight for the mirror. The hat‑man, Cole, and Beef and I would use explosives provided by the aliens to break apart the giant soul gate. Four bodies that would be left behind while our spirit forms crossed into the shade realm. The hat man would be untethering from the cat's body and become his original form and maybe gain spirit power back in the shattered mirror world.
The alien scientist explained the weaponry.
Small crystalline devices, humming with alien frequency.
"Once placed," the scientist said, "they will alter the resonance of the mirror shards. The great mirror will shatter, and the pieces will never again adhere into a doorway."
Cole held one up, eyebrows raised.
"So… ghost grenades."
Beef nodded approvingly.
"Finally, something I can throw."
The hat‑man flicked his tail.
"These will work," he said. "The shades rely on resonance. Break the frequency, break the gate."
The alien scientist bowed its head.
"We will tether your souls. We will guide you. But once inside, you must move quickly."
Cole exhaled. Beef cracked his knuckles.
The hat‑man's eyes glowed like molten gold.
And you said the words that set the mission in motion:
"We don't need to take on the army of spirits. All we need to do is shatter their mirror, and make sure the plan fails."
The alien nodded.
"The breach will open soon. Prepare yourselves."