XCVII
We contacted the special forces at the base through the captain. This would be the first time any of them would be going through a mirror gate to another realm. I had much more experience and would lead the team through. Captain Norris would take care of the special tactics. I had the hat-man, Cole, and Beef at my side.
We would directly go to the mirror as Captain Norris would have his men set distractions for the shade army. We would use resonance bombs that the aliens provided to shatter the huge doorway mirror, it would change the resonance of the shards so they could never adhere together into a doorway to this world again.
We went to a spare airplane hangar with cots lined up in a row. This is where the untethering began.
Captain Norris volunteered to go first.
He lay down on the cot without hesitation; hands folded over his chest like a man preparing for surgery. The alien assigned to him extended three shimmering tendrils, each one glowing with pale psychic light.
The moment they touched his sternum, Norris's body jerked—then went still.
A second later, his spirit self-rose out of him.
Opaque, clumsy and half‑formed and first. He grew a little more solid as he remembered himself. A pale silhouette with flickering edges, like a hologram struggling to stabilize.
The tether, a woven cord of soul-based light, stretched from his spirit chest back into his physical body, thinning as he drifted farther.
Cole whispered, "Holy… Captain, you look like a bad special effect."
Beef stared, wide‑eyed. "Sir, you're… floaty."
Norris looked down at himself, then barked a laugh that echoed weirdly through the hangar.
"Alright troops, nobody lives forever. This is a preview. Get ghosty!"
That broke the tension.
One by one, soldiers lay down and the aliens placed their tendrils.
The spirit forms rose, twelve in total, each tethered by shimmering cords.
Some soldiers panicked at first, stumbling in their new forms. Others stared at their bodies with awe. A few cried quietly, overwhelmed by the surreal beauty of seeing themselves from the outside.
Cole and Beef went next.
Cole's spirit form flickered like a candle flame, slightly bluish, quick, jittery, bright.
Beef's rose like a mountain, a thick form, dense, heavy, slow but powerful.
The hat‑man watched them with a predator's curiosity.
The main alien scientist approached me and the hat‑man.
"We will pull you last," it said. "Your forms are… unusual."
I lay down on the cot, clenching and unclenching my hands to ease the tension.
The hat‑man curled beside me in his little tuxedo cat form, his physical body shimmering with anticipation.
The alien's tendrils touched my sternum.
And I felt it, a familiar, fleeting feeling. Not pain.
But recognition. My soul had done this before, broken away from my body. It knew this path, and it made it easier this time.
It rose smoothly, effortlessly, your spirit form bright and stable, far more solid than any soldier's. My tether glowed thicker, stronger, braided with strange colors the aliens had never seen, a glowing umbilicus stretched from me to my body on the army cot.
The hat‑man's spirit form emerged beside you, monstrously sleek, sharp, and shadow‑dense, eyes glowing like molten gold. He stretched, shaking off the physical world like dust.
The alien scientist murmured:
"You will last longer. Your energy matrix is charged by your passage through the space worm. You are… fortified."
Cole's spirit form drifted closer.
"Miss… you look like you're made of lightning."
Beef nodded. "She's glowing."
The hat‑man smirked, his lips widening in an old predatory grin, teeth sharp, eyes glowing waxy yellow as his smile spread to his cheeks.
"She's always been glowing, delicious as a shiny candy apple."
The mirrors from great-aunt's library, carried carefully by soldiers, had been arranged at the front of the hangar. The aliens had attuned them to the spectral frequency, their surfaces shimmering like liquid silver.
The panoramic view of the shade realm flickered faintly across them. The waiting army like snuffed candle smoke, shimmering and gray.
The alien scientist gestured.
"Your bodies will remain here. Your spirits will pass through. You have two hours. No more."
Cole tightened his grip on his resonance bomb.
Beef cracked his spectral knuckles.
The hat‑man's shadow stretched long and sharp.
You stepped forward, your tether humming like a living cord.
"We go straight for the mirror," you said. "We shatter it. We end this."
The alien bowed.
"Earth woman… lead your team."
The mirror rippled. The shade realm waited.
And we stepped toward the glass, spirit forms bright, steady, ready, knowing that the next two hours would decide the fate of the world.
My own group gripped resonance bombs in hand. One bomb and one backup wasn't enough. We needed an explosion big enough that the thing would shatter.
Small crystalline devices, humming with alien frequency were given to us by alien scientists.
"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 bombs."
Beef nodded approvingly.
"Finally, something I know how to deal with."
The hat‑man flicked his tail.
"These will work," he said. "The shades rely on resonance. Break the frequency, break the gate."
"Alright, you four do your thing, the rest of us will do what we do best, unexpected party planning." We all needed to go through the gate.
"Your bodies will remain here. Your spirits will pass through. You have two hours. No more."
Cole tightened his grip on his resonance bomb.
Beef cracked his spectral knuckles.
The hat‑man's shadow stretched long and sharp.
You stepped forward, your tether humming like a living cord.
"We go straight for the mirror," you said. "We shatter it. We end this."
The alien bowed.
"Earth woman… lead your team."
The mirror rippled.
The shade realm waited.
And you stepped toward the glass—your spirit form bright, steady, ready—knowing that the next two hours would decide the fate of your world.