Chapter 14 - The Warning

The dimensional anomaly floated serenely above the fountain in New Harbor Park, a shimmering distortion about five feet in diameter. Unlike the violent, unstable rifts Max had encountered previously, this one pulsed with a gentle rhythm, colors shifting through patterns Mrs. Chen had identified as communication markers.

"Are you sure about this?" Lumina asked, standing beside Max at the Guardian security perimeter. She'd changed into field gear—a more practical version of her usual white and gold uniform, though it still managed to catch and amplify light around her.

"Not even slightly," Max admitted, adjusting the settings on his stabilizer bands as Mentis had instructed. "But Mrs. Chen seemed pretty convinced this is important."

The elderly interdimensional refugee stood at a monitoring station with Mentis, analyzing readings from the anomaly. Guardian security maintained a wide perimeter, keeping curious civilians at a safe distance.

"Your molecular stability appears optimal," Mentis reported through their communicators. "The anomaly's frequency patterns remain consistent with information exchange rather than physical transit."

"So it probably won't suck me into another dimension," Max translated. "That's reassuring."

"Your talent for finding trouble suggests maintaining caution regardless," Mentis replied dryly.

Lumina hid a smile. "He has a point. You do seem to attract complications."

"One of my many talents," Max quipped, trying to mask his nervousness with humor.

Mrs. Chen's voice joined the communication channel. "Remember, you don't need full physical contact. Your phase-state should resonate with the anomaly's boundary layer, creating sufficient connection for communication."

Max nodded, flexing his hands. Thanks to the stabilizer bands, his random phasing had stopped, but he could still activate the ability deliberately—though with less control than before the explosion.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, stepping toward the anomaly.

As he approached, the dimensional rift reacted to his presence, its pulsing rhythm accelerating slightly. Colors shifted from blues to purples and golds, swirling in patterns that somehow seemed almost... eager?

Max stopped an arm's length away, focusing on his phase-shift ability. The now-familiar tingling sensation spread through his body as he partially dematerialized, his form becoming translucent but maintaining coherence thanks to the stabilizer bands.

He extended his hand toward the anomaly's edge, where reality visibly warped and blurred. As his phase-shifted fingers made contact with the dimensional boundary, a jolt of sensation—not quite physical, not quite mental—raced up his arm.

The world around him fell away.

Max found himself in what appeared to be a vast, empty space filled with swirling patterns of light and color. He still felt physically present, but disconnected from the park and everyone in it.

"Hello?" he called, unsure if sound even existed in this strange non-place.

The patterns of light coalesced, forming a vaguely humanoid shape that pulsed and flowed like liquid light. It resembled the Warning Entity he'd encountered at the university, though with more defined features—suggestions of a face, arms, a torso constructed from interwoven light patterns.

"Consensus Avatar," came a voice that wasn't quite a voice—more like concepts and emotions translated directly into his mind. "Interface established. Communication window limited."

"Are you the one sending the message pattern across our city?" Max asked.

"Yes. Warning protocol activated. Critical temporal convergence approaching."

Max struggled to formulate precise questions, aware their time might be limited. "You're trying to warn us about something. About the Engineers?"

The light being pulsed with what felt like urgency. "Engineers manage degradation. We warn of cause. Reality collapse accelerating across dimensional boundaries. Your world approaching critical threshold."

"We know about the reality degradation," Max said. "What we don't understand is why. What's causing it?"

The entity's form shifted, reconfiguring into a series of interconnected spheres that Max somehow understood represented different realities or dimensions.

"Natural entropy accelerated by artificial intervention," the entity explained. "Realities designed to remain separate. Barriers weakened by attempts to traverse."

Images and concepts flooded Max's mind—countless worlds, some similar to his own, others wildly different, all connected by invisible threads of shared fundamental laws. And between them, tears forming where those threads had been stressed or broken.

"Are you saying travel between dimensions is what's causing the collapse?" Max asked, thinking of Mrs. Chen and other refugees.

"Not observation. Extraction." The entity's form pulsed with what felt like frustration at communication limitations. "Core reality components being removed. Universal entropy accelerated consequently."

The entity shifted again, creating a visual representation that Max struggled to interpret—something valuable being taken from one sphere and transported to another, leaving the source sphere unstable, gradually collapsing.

"Who's doing the extraction?" Max pressed. "The Engineers?"

"Engineers manage consequence. Others pursue cause." The entity's form briefly took on a more defined shape, almost crystalline in structure. "They believe collection necessary for preservation. They are incorrect."

Max's mind raced, trying to make sense of the abstract concepts being communicated. "Something is being taken from realities, causing them to collapse, and the Engineers are just managing the collapse process rather than stopping it?"

"Correct interpretation. Your reality targeted for specific extraction. Critical component identified."

"What component? What are they trying to take from our world?"

The entity's form suddenly constricted, patterns becoming erratic. "Connection destabilizing. Engineers detecting communication channel."

"Wait! What are they trying to extract?" Max insisted, sensing their time was running out.

The entity's form reached toward him, a tendril of light touching where his chest would be if he were physically present. "You already know. The Consensus nexus. The Avatar manifested."

With a jolt of understanding, Max realized what the entity meant. "Me? They're after me?"

"Not you. What you represent. What you connect." The entity's form began breaking apart, communication clearly failing. "The spiral pattern. Find its source. Understand its purpose."

Before Max could ask what that meant, the entity disintegrated into scattered light patterns. "Warning delivered. Convergence imminent. Sixty-three temporal units remaining before extraction attempt. Prepare or—"

The connection shattered.

Max gasped as consciousness slammed back into his physical body. He staggered backward, Lumina rushing forward to steady him as he nearly collapsed.

"Max! Are you okay?" Her voice seemed distant, his senses still adjusting to the abrupt transition.

"I'm... yeah. Just disoriented." He blinked, the park gradually coming back into focus around him. The anomaly still hovered above the fountain, but its pulsing had slowed dramatically, colors fading to pale blues.

"What happened?" Mentis demanded through the communicator. "We registered significant energy exchange, then communication termination."

"I spoke with the entity," Max replied, his mind still processing the abstract concepts it had shared. "It was definitely trying to warn us, but about something bigger than just the Engineers or reality degradation."

"Get back to the perimeter," Mentis instructed. "Full debriefing required immediately."

As Max and Lumina retreated from the anomaly, he noticed the stabilizer bands on his wrists were glowing faintly, patterns shifting in response to his recent dimensional contact.

"Did you learn anything useful?" Lumina asked quietly. "You were only connected for about twenty seconds from our perspective, but your expression went through about a dozen changes."

"Twenty seconds?" Max shook his head in disbelief. "It felt like minutes at least. And yeah, I learned something, but I'm not sure how much sense it makes."

Before he could elaborate, the anomaly behind them pulsed once, brightly, then collapsed in on itself with a soft implosion of air. Where it had been, a small crystalline object fell into the fountain with a splash.

Guardian security tensed, weapons trained on the unexpected development, but Mentis's voice cut through the commotion.

"Maintain positions. Scanner indicates standard matter composition. No dimensional energy signatures detected."

Lumina approached the fountain cautiously, retrieving the object with a specialized containment tool. It appeared to be a crystal roughly the size of a golf ball, with geometric patterns etched into its surface that matched the communication symbols from the anomaly network.

"A physical message?" Lumina wondered, examining it without touching it directly.

"Or a key," Mrs. Chen's voice came through their communicators. "Return immediately. Anomaly network is collapsing citywide."

Sure enough, as they hurried back to the Guardian vehicles, Max's communicator displayed alerts from across New Harbor—all the geometric pattern anomalies simultaneously shutting down, leaving only this single crystalline object behind.

During the ride back to Guardian Tower, Max tried to organize his thoughts. The Warning Entity had communicated through concepts and images more than words, making the message difficult to translate into concrete explanations.

"They're extracting something from realities," he told Lumina, who watched him with focused attention. "Not destroying them directly, but taking something that causes them to collapse afterward."

"What are they extracting?" she asked.

Max hesitated. "I think... me. Or something connected to me. It called it a 'Consensus nexus' and mentioned the spiral pattern—like on my Rumor costume."

He caught himself too late, realizing his slip.

Lumina's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your connection to Rumor. The power transfer."

"Right," Max recovered quickly. "That connection. The entity seemed to think it represents something important—something others want to extract from our reality."

Lumina studied him thoughtfully but didn't press further. "And the Engineers?"

"They're not causing the extractions. They're managing the aftermath—controlling how realities collapse after whatever critical component gets removed." Max frowned, remembering the entity's final warning. "It said we have 'sixty-three temporal units' before an extraction attempt. Whatever that means."

"Could be sixty-three days, hours, minutes," Lumina mused. "Without context, it's hard to interpret."

"The crystal might provide answers," Max suggested. "It felt like... a condensed version of the warning. Something more permanent than the communication."

When they arrived at Guardian Tower, they found Mentis and Mrs. Chen already examining preliminary scans of the crystal in a secure laboratory. The object sat in a specialized containment field, instruments analyzing its structure from all angles.

"Fascinating composition," Mentis observed as they entered. "Crystalline lattice unlike any terrestrial formation, with embedded information patterns at the quantum level."

"It's a data storage device," Mrs. Chen explained for Max's benefit. "Common method for cross-dimensional information transfer. More stable than direct communication."

"Can you access the information?" Max asked.

"Working on it," Mentis replied. "The encoding is complex, but follows patterns similar to the anomaly network."

Mrs. Chen gestured Max closer, speaking quietly so only he could hear. "You should tell me exactly what the entity communicated. Everything, no matter how abstract or confusing."

Max nodded, understanding her caution. Some information might be better kept compartmentalized until they understood its implications.

"It mentioned extraction," he whispered. "Said they're taking something from realities that causes them to collapse."

Mrs. Chen's expression shifted subtly—recognition, then concern. "The Architects," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Who?"

Before she could answer, Mentis made a sound of satisfaction. "Decryption successful. Accessing primary data structure now."

The laboratory's main display activated, showing a three-dimensional representation of the crystal's internal structure. Patterns of light flowed through the projection, forming symbols and images that shifted too quickly for Max to interpret.

"Slow the playback," Mrs. Chen instructed. "Focus on the primary information strand."

As the display adjusted, the patterns resolved into more recognizable forms—a map of dimensional connections, timelines branching and converging, and at the center, a familiar spiral pattern.

"That's the symbol from my costume," Max said, pointing to the spiral. "The entity mentioned it specifically."

Mrs. Chen nodded grimly. "It's much older than your costume, Max. It's a fundamental pattern that appears across multiple realities—a symbol representing consensus reality, the point where collective belief and physical manifestation intersect."

"And someone is trying to extract this... concept... from our reality?" Lumina asked, clearly struggling with the abstract nature of the threat.

"Not the concept," Mrs. Chen corrected. "The manifestation. In our reality, that manifestation is—"

"Me," Max finished, the entity's warning finally making sense. "They're coming for me."