Table Of Contents | |||||
Book 1 | Book 2 | Book 3 | Book 4 | Book 5 | Book 6 |
#SciFi #ScienceFiction #Futuristic #SpeculativeFiction #MindBending #Interdimensional #Otherworldly #PortalFiction #CosmicEncounter #ParallelRealities#GirlPower #YoungHeroes #UnexpectedHeroes #Teamwork #BraveGirls #EldritchHorror #UnknownEntity #BeyondTheVeil #DimensionalRift #AlienMystery#SciFiAdventure #RealityWarp #ExtraDimensional #StrangePhenomena #SupernaturalSciFi
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The night school classroom glows with its familiar pearlescent light, but the air feels heavy, charged with Helanaâs distress.
She collapses into her motherâs arms, her voice breaking.
âMom, this is horrible! Iâm so scaredâreally scared.
I canât do this.
I screwed up, big time.
Iâm sorry.
People want to kill me.
They almost killed Roxana todayâalmost killed us all.
Why?â Her mother, Mom, holds her tightly, her presence a warm anchor.
âMy sweet child, I donât know why this burdenâs on you, so young.
But thereâs more happening than you realizeâmore than any of us realized.â âWhat do you mean?â Helana asks, pulling back, her eyes searching. Momâs voice softens, heavy with uncertainty.
âRemember your Earth history studies? Mid-21st century, the war, the depopulation event that nearly ended humanity? You saw your sistersâElla, Roxana, Eileenâas key to saving the survivors.
Somethingâs changed.â âChanged how?â Helanaâs voice trembles. âGreat waves are rippling through the temporal fields, stronger than ever,â Mom says.
âThat historyâs blurringâevents once fixed are spreading across centuries, uncertain.
Their future, our past, is in flux.
What happened may be un-happening, altering everything, even here.â âHow can that happen in such a dense domain?â Helana asks.
âItâd take a starâs energy to shift something that big.
Is it possible?â âFor level 3 beings like you, or level 5 like us, itâs impossible,â Mom says.
âBut for level 10 entities, one with the One Infinite Creator, it might be.
They could modify the core dream without energy.
Weâve never seen a level 10 beingâonly legends speak of them.â âCore dream?â Helanaâs brow furrows. Mom hesitates.
âItâs a theoryâan idea.
The One Infinite Creator may create like we dream, with a core dream from which all existence emerges.
High-level beings could change reality by altering this dream, the Mind of God.â âSo Godâs dreaming this up?â Helana asks, skeptical. âNot asleep, maybe daydreaming,â Mom says, smiling faintly.
âItâs an analogy.
We lower beings canât fully grasp it.â âDid I cause these changes by getting stuck in level 3?â Helana asks, her voice small.
âWhat are these levels?â âYour arrival on Earth didnât cause it,â Mom says, âbut it may have opened a door for those who could.
We believe you were chosenânot an accident, but part of a plan.
Or perhaps entities waited for someone to open that door, and you were that someone.â She continues, âLevels come from ancient texts in our domain, referring to dimensions of existence.
Earth has fourâthree space, one timeâcalled level 3 for reasons lost to us.
Here, we have three space and three time dimensions, called level 5.
Thatâs our understanding.â âIâm confused,â Helana says.
âWhat door did I open?â âItâll take time to unravel,â Mom says.
âHere, we create domains like your birthday beach with a few thousand minds.
If we tire of it, it fades.
These domains sustain life, but the Creator wants moreâevery possible life form to exist.
Randomness, chaos, uncertainty are woven into the universe, letting life manifest infinitely.
Not even the Creator knows how itâll unfold.â She pauses.
âOur level 5 domains lack the inertia for life to thrive over billions of years.
Earthâs dense, stable domainâlevel 3âgives life that time.
Earth is a birthplace of life.
Without it, we wouldnât exist.
You, meâwe evolved there.
Your sistersâElla, Roxana, Eileenâare our ancestors.
Thatâs why youâre drawn to them, why you love them.â Helanaâs eyes widen.
âStopâmy brainâs numb.â âOkay,â Mom says, softening.
âHereâs what matters: powerful forces of Darkness and Light clash over Earth.
You and your sisters are warriors for Light.
Thatâs why youâre specialâand why the Darkness wants you dead.
Your knowledge threatens them, forbidden knowledge theyâll destroy at any cost.â âDark? Light?â Helana asks.
âWho are they?â âLight beings cherish Earthâs life, like humans, and protect it,â Mom says.
âDark entities seek to destroy and control it.
Itâs simplistic, but enough for now.â âHow do we fight the Darkness?â Helana asks. âYouâre not alone,â Mom says.
âFrom level 5, we glimpse the Angelic realm, where your army of entities fights for you.
When Eileen shot that man, it likely wasnât herâan Angel acted through her.
Tell her not to feel guilty; sheâs a soldier for Earth, not a killer.â âBe discreet,â Mom warns.
âThe more who know, the more Dark forces notice.
Your futureâs unclearâtoo fuzzy to see without risking worse.
Be strong, careful, and hide this knowledge.
Careless use could kill you and your sisters, endangering Earthâs future.â --- In the safe houseâs dim bedroom, dawnâs light creeps through the blinds.
The girls huddle on cots, the air thick with exhaustion.
Roxana, her rosary beads still in hand, looks at Helana, whoâs just stirred.
âYou were mumbling in your sleepâwars, angels, secret knowledge.
Night school?â âYeah,â Helana says, rubbing her eyes.
âItâs fuzzy.
Mom dumped a ton of data on me.
Itâll take time to process.
I need to talk to Beakerâthings are worse than we thought.
Howâs Eileen?â âAsleep,â Ella says, glancing at Eileenâs still form.
âShe seems peaceful, doesnât remember yet.â âTell her to go to night school when she wakes,â Helana says.
âMom can help.â âIâm awake,â Eileen says, her voice faint, sitting up.
âTired, anxious, confused.
It really happened, didnât it?â âWhat do you remember?â Helana asks gently. âItâs blurry,â Eileen says.
âYou guys turned, stared at him, and he fell.
Everything slowed.
A gun slid toward me.
He got up, aimed at Roxana, and time stopped.
Suddenly, I had the gun, knew I had a second before someone died.
I did what I learned at arcade shootersâcenter mass, tight grip, squeeze.
Boom, boom, boom.
He went down.â She shudders.
âI felt nothingâno emotion.
Just said, âIâm sorry,â in my head, like I had to but pitied him.
He didnât know what he was doing.
Then I blacked out until we were here.
Where are we?â âBeakerâs safe house,â Ella says.
âHe thought home wasnât safe.
Secret agents are outside.â âAre we living here now?â Eileen asks.
âWhat about our parents?â âNo decisions yet,â Ella says.
âOur parents donât know everything.
Weâll figure it out tomorrow.â âIâm glad youâre here,â Eileen says, her voice small.
âI feel safe with you.â âYou make us feel safe,â Roxana says, squeezing her hand.
âYou saved my lifeâsaved us all.â âI feel warm, loved,â Eileen says, smiling faintly.
âIâm sleeping again.
Rest, guys.
Tomorrowâs gonna be weird.â --- At sunrise, Commander Beaker paces the safe houseâs living room, phone pressed to his ear, his voice rising in heated debates about budgets, manpower, and covert security.
Helana shuffles downstairs, her hair a tangled mess, still in yesterdayâs clothes.
âCommander Beaker, sir, we need to talk.â âYes, maâam,â he says, hanging up.
âWhatâs on your mind?â âWeâre at war,â Helana says, her voice steady despite her disheveled appearance.
âA secret, invisible war, and weâre in the middle.
Thereâs more at stake than we knewâchanges that could reshape Earthâs future.
The Darkness wants us dead because our knowledge threatens their plans.â Beakerâs face hardens.
âI feared that.
Your arrival wasnât just a teenage mistake.â âMy mom said the forces of Light used my coming as a doorwayâa coincidenceâto advance their agenda,â Helana says. âWhat are these agendas?â Beaker asks.
âSpiritual or physical?â âBoth,â Helana says.
âPhysical, spiritual, Angelic.
The Darkness wants to control Earth and planets like it.
Weâre fighting to protect Earth, where life begins.
Itâs vital to the One Infinite Creator.
This is forbidden knowledgeâtop secret.â âAbsolutely,â Beaker says.
âThis stays here.
The girls should know as little as possible.
My Navy colleagues wouldnât believe it.â âIs this town safe for us?â Helana asks. âIâve been arguing that all morning,â Beaker says.
âSome want you on a Pacific boat or to end the program.
But your presence could stabilize the timeline.
Staying here, living normally, minimizes disruption.â âMom said that too,â Helana says.
âBut weâre not normal.
Kids at school saw yesterdayâs attack.
Thatâs a problem.â âAre agents watching us constantly?â she asks. âYes,â Beaker says.
âEnhanced securityâs necessary.
The âgay coupleâ moving into your blockâs empty house? Agents.
Avoid them, donât tip them off.
Keep it secret.â âI wonât even look at them,â Helana says, grinning.
âTeenagers ignore old people anyway.â --- By noon, the safe house buzzes with tension as the girlsâ parents meet Beaker and Mrs.
Danvers, Eileenâs mother and a police officer, whoâs armed with a preliminary report.
The girls, subdued, listen from the couch. âWe initially thought the girls were targeted,â Mrs.
Danvers says, her voice clipped.
âThe gunman ran straight for them.
But our investigation suggests it was a coincidenceâtheir table was in line with the entrance he used.â She continues, âHe was troubled, his computer showing plans to mimic recent mass shootings.
Weâve urged the media to limit details to prevent copycats, but theyâve already said too much.
Counselors are available for the girls and witnesses to address PTSD.
Thankfully, agents stopped the attack, and the only loss was the gunman.â âDo we have school today?â Roxana asks.
âOh, itâs Sunday.â âNo school,â Beaker says.
âBut go Monday, act normal.
Routine helps recovery.
Thank you, Mrs.
Danvers, for the police support.â The girls grab their bags, heading to Ellaâs momâs car.
Mrs.
Danvers stops them.
âAlisha, can I have Eileen for a bit? I need to talk to herâand you, Beaker.
Bob, get over here,â she calls to her husband. In a quiet corner, Mrs.
Danversâ voice turns steely.
âThis is an official investigation, but Iâll keep it friendly since youâre family.
Things donât add up.
Beaker, whyâs the Navy in our town, far from Annapolis? Why are FBI agents everywhere? A safe house? Whatâs going on? Youâre treating me like I canât handle it.
That stops now.â âItâs classified,â Beaker says, apologetic.
âIâm sorry.â âClassified?â Mrs.
Danvers snaps.
âItâs national security, but you discuss it with my husband and my 14-year-old daughter? Thatâs nonsense.â âYour husbandâs ex-military, under a security oath,â Beaker says.
âYouâre not.
Eileen stumbled into this, cooperating for elite training worth thousands.
Agents protect the girls at great cost.
Thatâs all I can say.â Mrs.
Danvers turns to her husband.
âBob, whatâs your role?â âLike he said, security oath,â Mr. Danvers says, pained.
âIâve pieced things together, like you.
Keeping you in the dark kills me, but I have no choice.â âFine, youâre useless,â she says, facing Eileen.
âWhat really happened at the mall?â âYou investigated it,â Eileen says, her voice small.
âYou know.â âNo, I donât,â Mrs.
Danvers says.
âThe FBI sanitized everything.
No surveillance, no phone videos until todayâall scrubbed.
You girls werenât in them, like you werenât there.
Thatâs suspicious.
Tell me.â âMom, I donât want you sick again,â Eileen pleads.
âYou know enough.â âDonât dodge me, Eileen!â Mrs.
Danvers says, her voice rising.
âTell me!â âMom!â Eileen cries, tears welling. âHoney, stop,â Mr. Danvers says, as three stern agents enter. âIâm sorry, Eileen,â Mrs.
Danvers says, softening.
âBut Iâll be sicker if I donât understand.
Two witnessesâyour classmatesâsaid the FBI agent arrived after the gunman was down.
They said a blond girl shot him.
Eileen, was it you?â Eileen nods, tears falling.
âIt was me.
The FBI said itâs better if they took credit, to avoid media hounding me.â âWhereâd you get a gun?â Mrs.
Danvers asks.
âA 40-cal, police issue.
Were you carrying? Did you take mine?â âNo, Mom, never,â Eileen says.
âHe tripped, dropped a gun, and it slid to me.
When he aimed at Roxana, I shot.â âThree shots, tight pattern, in chaos?â Mrs.
Danvers says, incredulous.
âIâm not that good.
Whereâd you learn?â âThe arcade,â Eileen says.
âThose shooter games simulate recoil.
I learned there.â Mrs.
Danvers exhales, shaken.
âIâm proud of you, and terrified.
This ends now.
Beaker, I want my daughtersâbothâout of this program.â Beaker frowns.
âYou can remove them; I canât stop you.
But this is bigger than the Navy, bigger than the government.
If it spirals, your daughters could be taken to a secret facility, and you might never see them.
Work with us.
Iâll try to get you clearance.
Eileen must stayâitâs more critical than you know.â --- At Ellaâs house, Sunday evening is a rare oasis of calm.
The living room smells of pizza and warm apple pie, the TV humming with a rented comedy.
Ella lounges on the couch, her sisters sprawled around her, safe for now.
Dear Diary, Today was actually pleasant.
Roxana prayed at churchâthree, four times? I napped, catching up from last night.
My girls are home with me.
Allâs well. No guns, no blood, just peace.
Mr. Danvers brought pizza and wings.
Mom baked pie and cake.
Dad rented movies.
Theyâre just glad weâre alive. I hope Pete and Kim donât talk at school.
They saw what happened.
I could keep them quietâI saw them holding hands, and theyâre dating others.
Beaker tries to control secrets, but heâs not good at it. Mrs.
Danvers is asking too many questions.
Eileen says theyâll do a limited hangoutâtell her just enough to cope, not the mind-blowing stuff.
I hope it works.
Sheâs good people, and this is hard on her. Goodnight, Diary.
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