Floor
Hum. Vibration. Outpost Zeta breathes.
Dr. Lin floats. Gravity switch flicked. Nothing.
"Report!" Reeves' voice disembodied.
Shimmer below. Metal grating dissolves. Crew suspended, bemused.
Time stretches. Days? Weeks? Adaptation. Push, glide, navigate. Surfaces vanish. Up from below, consuming.
Observatory. Stars whisper secrets. Telescope eye sees. Glint in the void. Focus shifts. Swarm revealed.
Tiny. Impossibly small. Purposeful movement.
Realization fog on glass. "They eat," Lin whispers.
Crew clusters. Floating constellations of flesh. Lin speaks of refugees. Universe-hoppers. Atomic feast.
Reeves, grim: "Options?"
Lin's thoughts spiral. Communicate? Offer? Or—
Chill creeps. Left foot fades. Body shimmers.
Last sight: Hungry galaxy descending. Earth below, oblivious.
Wake up. Sweat-soaked sheets. Floor solid. For now.