The Seventh Shakara

A wormhole shouldn't have appeared near Venus's orbit. Theoretically, it made no sense. But after his ship was torn apart, his consciousness reassembled, and his memories stripped away, Shen Ci stopped asking 'why.' Naked, he lay in the forest of an alien world, with two suns overhead—one eternally burning, the other rising for fourteen hours each day, irradiating everything with bone-penetrating radiation. Survive. That was his only thought. He drank the blood of a giant tree. His skin began to glow. A group of intelligent beings living beneath the roots accepted him, calling him 'Shakara'—the seventh who fell from the sky. And in orbit, a purple light was watching. It had been watching for a long time. It no longer intended to just observe. Go home? Or first, survive today.