Felix had been aboard many ships in his lifetime—some sleek and cutting-edge, others held together by duct tape and desperation—but nothing like this. This was something different.

  The walls of the Abyssal Nomad thrummed with latent energy, strange pictograms pulsing and flickering faintly across its smooth, polished metal surfaces. It was structured like a proper spacecraft, yet something about it felt off in a way he couldn’t quite define. Walking through the corridors of this strange ship along with its equally unique crew was an altogether surreal experience.

  As he passed a wall panel, Felix slowed slightly, taking in the alien craftsmanship. The glowing symbols weren’t buttons or screens—they were etched into the plating itself, illuminated outlines hovered slightly above the surface, flickering in rhythmic pulses. The readouts appeared to be holographic, floating millimeters off the plate, yet there were no projectors.

  This wasn’t any kind of technology he was familiar with.

  The way the ship pulsed beneath his feet, the air thrumming with something just beyond his senses, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

  There was no background hum of engines. No mechanical vibrations. And yet… the ship felt alive.

  The crew walked with him, watching with varying degrees of curiosity, trepidation, and on the part of the ragged-looking goblin, barely-contained enthusiasm.

  Felix resisted the urge to fidget, keeping himself composed and professional. He was walking the deck of an entirely unknown alien culture’s craft, one not documented anywhere in the Imperium’s vast archives.

  One wrong move could turn this from a historic diplomatic moment to a disaster. For a moment he wondered if maybe Amy had been right. Maybe they should have let the officials handle this. As he walk and continued to take in the wondrous ship, the thought drifted away.

  Paeris, ever the diplomat, broke the silence first as they entered the ships bridge, gesturing toward Crestia.

  “Captain Felix, allow me to properly introduce Captain Crestia Blackmane, commander of the Abyssal Nomad.”

  Crestia, turned and gave a not unfriendly, but clearly somewhat forced smile as she appraised him carefully. "Captain," she acknowledged, her silver eyes assessing him—sharp, unreadable. “Welcome to the Abyssal Nomad.” She said, spreading her arms slightly.

  Felix was actually somewhat surprised at the familiarity of the bridge layout. Control and monitoring lined the wall, with two seats and a control board facing the forward viewport. For such an alien ship, it was surprisingly familiar in it’s overall design.

  Felix gave a small nod. “Captain Blackmane. I appreciate the hospitality.” He glanced around the bridge, taking in the sleek yet alien architecture. “I have to say, this is quite an impressive vessel. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  At his words, Skrill did a delighted little hop. “Special design! I made—ACK!”

  He yelped as Fizz’s elbow jabbed hard into his ribs. “We make,” she corrected, shooting Felix a grin. “We make ship.”

  Felix chuckled at their antics. “You both did a hell of a job. Any chance of a tour later?” His eyes flicked to Crestia for approval.

  “I think that can be arranged,” Crestia said, though her expression remained unreadable. She shot the two engineers a pointed look before turning back to Felix. “First, let me introduce my crew. Of course, you’ve already met Paeris.”

  The incubus offered a smooth bow of his head. “A continued pleasure.”

  Crestia gestured toward the twin engineers. “These two are Fizz and Skrill Gearheart. The ship’s engineers and the minds behind its construction.”

  Skrill puffed out his chest. “Brilliant minds.”

  Fizz rolled her eyes. “Debatable in his case.”

  Felix grinned. “It’s very impressive. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Crestia continued the introductions, gesturing to the towering, pale-skinned figure leaning against the bridge’s railing. “This is Stonebloom.”

  Felix took in the massive man’s broad, scarred frame, the blue crystalline tusks jutting from his lower jaw, and the sheer mass of him. He had met his fair share of bruisers before, but this guy looked like he could punch through a bulkhead and barely feel it.

  Felix offered a friendly nod. “Good to meet you.”

  Stonebloom regarded him with a slow, assessing stare before nodding back. Reserved for such a big guy. Felix could respect that.

  Crestia turned next to the tall, elegant woman standing slightly apart from the others.

  “This is Ros’Lyn Goldspire. A dear friend, and skilled healer.”

  Felix noted the rich golden waves of her hair, her graceful robes, the poised way she held herself—almost regal. If he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken her for an elf straight out of one of the old Earth fantasy books he’d read in his youth.

  Ros’Lyn gave a polite nod, but something about her demeanor was... off. She wasn’t watching him. Her attention was repeatedly drawn to the viewport. Her expression was distant, tight and withdrawn. Felix followed her line of sight, taking in the endless void beyond the glass. It wasn’t awe on her face. It was unease.

  Crestia, seemingly aware of Ros’Lyn’s distraction, didn’t linger and moved on. “And of course, there is Veyrin.” She gestured vaguely around them.

  Felix frowned. His gaze swept the crew, expecting another introduction. No one else stepped forward, but after a beat, the walls pulsed slightly.

  Then, a voice, smooth, intelligent, but layered with something other, rippled through the bridge before misty tendrils flowed from one of the control stations, coalescing into the translucent figure of what, by all appearances, looked like a large black cat.

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  Felix barely stopped himself from taking a step back. His instincts screamed that nothing about this was normal. He had seen AI interfaces before—virtual avatars, holograms, hard-light projections but this gave a sense of actual living presence that those always seemed to lack.

  “Oh, um, you must be the ship’s interface,” he said, acknowledging the misty form.

  The cat tilted its head slightly as it considered this, its piercing green eyes gleaming.

  “I suppose that is not an inaccurate description of me at this time.”

  Felix could feel its gaze on him—not like a projection or program, but like something aware.

  “I am Crestia’s familiar,” Veyrin continued, “and am one with the ship. I am currently maintaining many of its functions.”

  Felix blinked. “...Familiar?”

  He glanced toward the crew, searching for clarification.

  Fizz, clearly enjoying his confusion, smirked. “It’s like... a bound spirit? Part of Crestia, part individual and also part of the ship.”

  Felix’s brain processed that information like a bad translation. “So you’re saying... your ship has a soul?”

  Crestia, arms crossed, answered coolly. “You could say that.”

  She gestured to a seat at one of the ship’s stations and waited for Felix to sit before taking her own seat in the captain’s chair.

  She still wasn’t sure about this whole “Captain” business as Paeris had introduced her. She was no ship’s captain—she was just an arcane researcher. Still, under the circumstances, there was no reason to correct him.

  As they sat, the rest of the crew found their own positions around the bridge. Ros’Lyn took a seat near the viewport, gazing at the stars. A shiver ran through her as she looked out and she quickly averted her eyes, seemingly unsure of where to focus her attention.

  Crestia noticed but chose not to bring it up. She had never seen her friend so unnerved and quiet before.

  Turning back to Felix, she gathered herself. “Now,” she said, “with introductions out of the way, I was hoping you could help answer some questions for us, beginning with… what realm have we arrived in?”

  Felix hesitated, considering the best way to phrase it. “Well, we are in the Aeris system, between the third and fourth planets.”

  Everyone in the room stared at him blankly. Of course this meant nothing to them, they were obviously not from anywhere nearby, so he widened the scope some.

  “Currently we are in the Gamma 9-42 sector of the Imperium. Technically within the area held by the Gundy Syndicate.” He paused, noting the blank expressions.

  Felix hesitated, scanning their faces. Blank stares. Right. No recognition.

  Switching tactics, he pulled out his communicator and tapped a button. “Amy, display a galactic map with our current position marked.”

  Amy gave no verbal response, but a holographic projection flared to life above his hand.

  The crew stared. Not at the floating image itself—they’d seen illusions before. It wasn’t the projection that held them captive. It was the map.

  With the exception of Skrill—who was not looking at the map at all, but instead eyeing the communicator itself like a starving man sizing up a banquet—the rest of the crew stood utterly still, their gazes locked onto the spiraling sea of stars.

  Felix gestured to the map, speaking slowly.

  “So, we’re here,” he said, highlighting their position. “In this spiral arm of the galaxy. Part of the Great Galactic Imperium.”

  He waited. Still nothing.

  A flicker of movement from the corner drew his attention in the stillness. Ros’Lyn, shifting from where she sat, her gaze locked onto the projection. Then, barely above a whisper, she spoke.

  “Are those… all stars?”

  Felix turned, surprised to hear her speak. The timid, almost reverent tremor in her voice caught him off guard as she began moving slowly toward the display, wide-eyed and unblinking.

  He wasn’t sure what to expect. Laughter? Terror? A religious epiphany? Instead, she simply stared. And she was not alone.

  Every single crew member—Fizz, Paeris, even the up until then stoically composed Stonebloom, watched with the same frozen, stunned intensity.

  Felix swallowed. “Uh… yeah,” he said cautiously. “Holo representations of them, anyway, but… yeah. Stars.”

  Ros’Lyn stepped closer, her fingers trembling as they reached toward the image.

  “How many?” The question was barely a breath.

  Felix hesitated. “I-”

  Her gaze snapped to his, pleading. “How many stars?”

  Felix’s pulse quickened. Something wasn’t right. The way she looked at him, like the ground had disappeared from beneath her feet. Like she was falling and the image was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.

  What the hell had they believed before this? How had they built a star ship and gotten here without understanding stars? He licked his lips, suddenly unsure of his own voice.

  “Uh… about 100 billion. In this galaxy, anyway.”

  He barely had time to register the way her breath hitched and her eyes welled with tears.

  “It’s true…” Her voice trembled. “We’ve really come to a realm of gods…”

  He felt his stomach drop. “...Gods?” His voice was cautious.

  Ros’Lyn didn’t blink. Her hands clenched at her sides.

  “Is this it?” she asked, louder now, almost frantic. “Is this the celestial realm? Have we entered the courts of endless deities?”

  Her voice cracked, rising in both volume and desperation.

  Felix’s heart pounded.

  Oh hell. Had he just broken someone’s entire worldview?

  Crestia moved swiftly, stepping behind her friend and gripping her shoulders, a grounding touch.

  “Breathe,” she murmured, steady and controlled. “You’re all right. Just breathe.”

  Felix stayed utterly still. Across from him, Paeris watched with narrowed eyes, his expression an odd mix of pain and relief.

  This was delicate. He really needed to tread carefully.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean. This is our galaxy, made up of billions of stars. You know, big balls of gas, like nuclear furnaces i space. I… i don’t know anything about gods.” he said, cautiously.

  Stonebloom stood, his voice low and gravely as he spoke.

  “Where we come from, there are not nearly so many stars. Just over one hundred in the pantheon. They are the physical manifestations of the gods tether to the physical realm.” He said, his deep voice measured as he calmly spoke.

  Felix looked around the room. They all seemed to be in various states of shock, but in agreement at the explanation.

  “How is that… only 100 stars…” his mind reeled. What kind of isolated, barren void had they lived in, where there were only a handful of visible stars?

  And then, It hit him. His pulse jumped. No way. He had heard the theories. The debates. The speculative research papers. Scientists with too much funding and not enough proof.

  He had dismissed them as wild fantasies, or at the very least unprovable theories and thought experiments. But now—now he was standing in front of proof. He swallowed hard. His voice dropped to a near whisper.

  “You… aren’t from this universe, are you?”

  The words hung in the air. It would explain everything. The unfamiliar tech. The way the ship felt so different. Their reactions and outright awe at simple, basic realities of the cosmos. Felix slowly exhaled.

  Oh, shit.

  Interdimensional travelers had just landed in his backyard.