The words remained on the mirror.
THE FOURTH REMEMBERS.
Mara stared at them.
Elias stood perfectly still on the other side of the glass.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the first time you’ve sounded convincing.”
His eyes stayed fixed on the mirror.
“Something was behind me.”
“I saw it.”
“What did you see?”
“A shadow.”
“How tall?”
Mara thought about it.
“Too tall.”
Elias’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not helpful.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
The silver letters began fading.
Mara stepped closer.
“Wait.”
The final word disappeared.
The mirror became ordinary glass again.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Elias said:
“Go upstairs.”
Mara frowned.
“What?”
“Go upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because whatever happened here, we don’t understand it.”
“That’s exactly why I should stay.”
“No.”
His voice was firm.
“Not this time.”
Mara folded her arms.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“And I’m trying to keep you from doing something stupid.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet.”
Elias sighed.
“Mara.”
She smiled.
“You’re learning.”
“Learning what?”
“That I’m difficult.”
“I noticed.”
They left the underground room.
Mara locked the hidden door behind her.
Then she moved the original floorboards back into place.
The room above looked completely normal.
Too normal.
She stood in the center of it.
“This house is ridiculous.”
Elias watched her through the mirror.
“That’s one word for it.”
“I bought a farmhouse.”
“Technically.”
“I thought I’d be dealing with termites.”
“Instead you found an interdimensional research facility.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds expensive.”
Elias laughed.
Mara smiled.
Then the humor disappeared.
“What do we do now?”
Elias thought.
“Nothing.”
She stared at him.
“Nothing?”
“For tonight.”
“That’s not a plan.”
“It is when the alternative is walking into an unknown facility beneath your house after discovering that reality may be unstable.”
Mara considered that.
“Fine.”
She turned toward the stairs.
“Tomorrow.”
Elias nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
Mara barely slept.
At three in the morning, she woke to the sound of rain.
She lay still.
Listening.
The house creaked.
Wind moved through the trees.
Rain tapped against the windows.
Normal sounds.
Comforting sounds.
She closed her eyes.
Then heard it.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Mara sat upright.
Silence.
She waited.
Nothing.
She reached for the lamp.
Then—
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Four.
Mara’s heart raced.
She got out of bed.
The hallway was dark.
She picked up the heavy wrench she kept beside the bedroom door.
Not because she expected it to help.
Because holding something made her feel better.
She walked downstairs.
The mirror was dark.
Mara stopped.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
She approached.
Her reflection stared back.
Then it smiled.
Mara froze.
She didn’t smile.
Her reflection did.
Slowly.
The image distorted.
The room behind her vanished.
In its place appeared a long white corridor.
Four doors stood along the walls.
One was open.
One was broken.
One was covered in black residue.
The fourth—
Mara couldn’t see the fourth.
Something stood in front of it.
A person.
Tall. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Motionless.
The figure lifted one hand.
Mara stepped backward.
The mirror went black.
She nearly dropped the wrench.
Then a voice whispered from the glass.
Not Elias.
A woman’s voice.
“Remember.”
Mara stared.
“Remember what?”
The voice whispered again.
“Before the door.”
Then the mirror returned to normal.
At sunrise, Mara called Elias.
He answered immediately.
“You saw something.”
It wasn’t a question.
“How did you know?”
“You called before sunrise.”
“I had a bad night.”
“Tell me.”
Mara described everything.
The corridor.
The four doors.
The figure.
The woman’s voice.
Elias listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he said:
“That sounds like a memory.”
“A memory?”
“Not a recording.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the system reacted to you.”
Mara looked toward the mirror.
“So it knows me.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s unsettling.”
“Yes.”
She rubbed her eyes.
“I don’t like being the mysterious one.”
“You’re not.”
“Really?”
“You’re the farmer.”
Mara laughed.
“Thank you.”
“I’m the mysterious one.”
“You’re the engineer with a rifle.”
“Exactly.”
“Much better.”
They spent the morning doing something neither of them expected.
They farmed.
Mara worked in the greenhouse.
Elias worked in his.
Through the mirror, they compared notes.
Humidity.
Temperature.
Soil composition.
Water usage.
Seed growth.
For the first time, their conversations weren’t about survival.
They were about crops.
“Your tomato seedlings are too close.”
Elias frowned.
“They’ve just sprouted.”
“Exactly.”
“How do you know?”
“I grew tomatoes before you were born.”
“I’m thirty.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at her.
“You are twenty-five.”
“Correct.”
“That math doesn’t work.”
Mara grinned.
“I’ve been waiting all morning to say that.”
Elias shook his head.
“You’re terrible.”
“You like me.”
Silence.
Mara realized what she’d said.
Elias did too.
Neither moved.
Then he smiled.
“You’re getting confident.”
Mara turned back to the seedlings.
“Don’t get used to it.”
By afternoon, the Moonvine had changed again.
It had produced three new flowers.
Each one was silver.
But one was different.
Its petals were almost transparent.
Mara called Elias.
He studied it through the mirror.
“Don’t touch that one.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s enough of one.”
Mara leaned closer.
The flower moved toward her.
She didn’t touch it.
Instead, she took a photograph.
Then another.
The plant suddenly curled around the wooden stake.
Its leaves folded.
A faint glow traveled down the stem.
Straight into the soil.
Mara watched.
“Did you see that?”
“Yes.”
The ground beneath the greenhouse shimmered.
Only for a second.
Then it stopped.
Mara crouched.
There was something beneath the dirt.
She dug carefully.
Her fingers struck metal.
She froze.
“Elias.”
“I see it.”
Mara cleared away the soil.
A small metal plate appeared.
Four circles were engraved on it.
She cleaned the dirt away.
Beneath the symbol were words.
MERIDIAN AGRICULTURAL OBSERVATION NODE
Mara stared.
“An agricultural station?”
Elias frowned.
“Why would Meridian have one here?”
“Maybe they studied Aether effects on plants.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe Grandma knew.”
“About the greenhouse?”
“About all of it.”
She remembered her grandmother’s garden.
The old seed jars.
The handwritten notes.
The insistence that some seeds never be planted.
At the time, Mara had thought it was superstition.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
She carefully removed the metal plate.
Underneath was a small compartment.
Inside lay a sealed packet.
Dusty.
Undamaged.
Mara opened it.
Four seeds rested inside.
Not Moonvine.
Something else.
Dark brown.
Almost black.
A label was attached.
PROJECT EDEN — LOCAL ADAPTATION TRIAL
Below it:
DO NOT GERMINATE
Mara stared at the words.
Elias went quiet.
“What?”
“Those seeds.”
“What about them?”
“They aren’t from Veyra.”
Mara looked up.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen that label.”
“Where?”
“At Blackridge.”
He stepped closer to the mirror.
“Inside the old laboratory.”
Mara’s stomach tightened.
“Then they came from Meridian.”
“Yes.”
She held the packet carefully.
“Why were they buried beneath my greenhouse?”
“I don’t know.”
Mara looked at the four seeds.
Four.
Again.
Always four.
She sighed.
“I am beginning to hate that number.”
Elias smiled.
“You could plant three.”
She looked at him.
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
That evening, they made another discovery.
Elias returned to the lower level at Blackridge.
Mara remained upstairs.
He didn’t enter the room.
He simply examined the corridor from the doorway.
“Mara.”
“Yes?”
“There’s something here.”
“What?”
A small panel had opened beside the door.
Inside was a paper map.
Elias pulled it free.
The paper was yellow with age.
Four locations were marked.
Blackridge.
Whitmore.
A point beneath an ocean.
And another location far north.
Mara looked at the map.
“Four anchors.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did the terminal say Anchor Four was unexpected?”
Elias turned the map over.
There was writing on the back.
He read it aloud.
“Anchor positions are not fixed.”
Mara frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
He continued.
“Meridian anchors respond to…”
He stopped.
“To what?”
The final sentence had been torn away.
Mara stared at the missing section.
Then something clicked.
“The four anchors aren’t places.”
Elias looked at her.
“They move?”
“Maybe.”
“What makes them move?”
Mara looked toward the Moonvine.
“Maybe people.”
Silence.
Elias understood.
“You think the anchors are living?”
“I think we don’t know enough yet.”
“That’s safer.”
Mara nodded.
Then the mirror suddenly flickered.
The map in Elias’s hands began glowing.
Four points appeared.
One over Blackridge.
One over Whitmore.
One beneath the ocean.
One far north.
Then—
a fifth point appeared.
Mara stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Elias looked at it.
The fifth point was moving.
Slowly.
Across the map.
Toward them.
Mara whispered:
“Elias.”
“I see it.”
The fifth point stopped.
Directly between Whitmore House and Blackridge Station.
The mirror displayed a single message.
ANCHOR FIVE — APPROACHING
Neither of them spoke.
Then the lights in Mara’s house went out.
Outside, something moved through the fields.
And for the first time since Mara had arrived at Whitmore House—
the Moonvine stopped glowing.
END OF CHAPTER NINE