Seventy-two hours had passed since Lin moved São Paulo into the pocket dimension.
Now it was time to bring three million people home.
Lin stood in the Nexus operations center, surrounded by holographic displays showing the pocket dimension's status. The mathematical models were complex—quantum entanglement threads, dimensional stability metrics, probability wave coherence readings. All of them needed to align perfectly for safe reintegration.
One miscalculation, and three million people would be scattered across infinite probability states. Dead wouldn't adequately describe what would happen to them. They'd be unmade at a fundamental level, their existence retroactively erased from all possible timelines.
"Stop catastrophizing," Maya said from beside him. She'd recovered fully from her Peru injuries, though Lin noticed she sometimes got a distant look in her eyes—residual effect from touching infinity, probably. "You've run the simulations forty times. The math works."
"Simulations aren't reality."
"No, but your omniscience shows ninety-four percent success probability. Those are excellent odds."
"Six percent chance of killing three million people isn't excellent."
Maya grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "Lin. You saved them once already. You'll save them again. I've seen the futures. This works."
"You said futures past crucial moments go dark for you."
"This isn't one of those moments. This is just applied dimensional mechanics." She smiled. "Besides, you're not doing this alone. We've got twelve controllers standing by to stabilize the reintegration if anything goes wrong. Wei's coordinating. Yuki designed the safety protocols. Aria's monitoring probability fluctuations. You have the best support team in existence."
Lin knew she was right. But knowing didn't make the weight easier to carry.
"Commander Wei to all stations," Wei's voice echoed through the operations center. "Reintegration commences in ten minutes. All controllers, confirm readiness."
One by one, the other controllers reported in. Marcus at the northern anchor point. Yuki at the eastern. Aria monitoring from the Nexus. Eight others positioned at strategic dimensional coordinates, ready to provide emergency stabilization if the reintegration destabilized.
Lin was at the center of it all. The linchpin. The one who'd created the pocket dimension and would now collapse it, returning São Paulo to baseline reality.
"All stations report ready," Wei confirmed. "Lin, you have command for this operation. We follow your lead."
The weight of that responsibility settled over him. Twelve controllers, three million civilians, the integrity of reality itself—all depending on him getting this right.
No pressure.
Lin activated his enhanced perception, extending his consciousness into the pocket dimension. São Paulo appeared in his mind's eye, the city frozen in the moment before disaster, three million souls suspended in temporal stasis. They hadn't aged, hadn't moved, hadn't even known they'd been displaced from reality.
To them, seventy-two hours would feel like nothing—a slight discontinuity, maybe a moment of disorientation, then normal life resuming.
If this worked.
"Beginning dimensional alignment," Lin announced. His chip fed him the necessary calculations, equations that would take human mathematicians centuries to derive. He began adjusting the pocket dimension's quantum signature, bringing it into resonance with baseline reality's frequency.
Space twisted around him. The Nexus's geometry shifted to accommodate the massive energy expenditure. Probability streams flowed past the windows in chaotic patterns as Lin manipulated fundamental forces.
"Alignment at thirty percent," Yuki reported. "Quantum coherence holding stable."
Lin pushed deeper, fine-tuning the resonance. The pocket dimension was like a soap bubble—beautiful, delicate, ready to pop if he applied pressure wrong. He had to collapse it smoothly, fold it back into baseline reality without creating discontinuities that would shred everything inside.
"Fifty percent alignment," Marcus called out. "I'm detecting minor fluctuations at my anchor point. Compensating."
"Same here," another controller reported. "Eastern quadrant showing stress fractures. Reinforcing."
Lin felt the pocket dimension beginning to destabilize. He'd known this would happen—the reintegration process put enormous strain on dimensional boundaries. But knowing and experiencing were different things. He could feel reality threatening to tear, could see futures where the pocket dimension collapsed catastrophically.
"Stay with me," Lin said, his voice steady despite internal panic. "We're almost there."
He wove probability threads around the pocket dimension, creating a safety net of possible futures. If the primary reintegration failed, these threads would activate, shunting São Paulo into alternate stable configurations. Not ideal—the city might end up in a slightly different timeline, creating paradoxes—but better than total annihilation.
"Seventy percent alignment," Yuki announced. "Dimensional barriers thinning. Approaching critical threshold."
This was the dangerous part. When the pocket dimension's barriers became thin enough, they'd start to dissolve. Lin needed to time the final collapse perfectly—too early and the city would be halfway between dimensions, too late and the pocket dimension would shatter on its own.
His omniscience activated, showing him the exact microsecond when he needed to act.
Three... two... one...
Now.
Lin collapsed the pocket dimension.
Reality screamed as three million people and an entire metropolitan area folded back into existence. Space bent, probability waves cascaded, quantum entanglement threads realigned at speeds that defied physics.
For one terrible moment, Lin felt the reintegration starting to fail. The dimensional boundaries weren't aligning properly. São Paulo was trying to occupy the same space as baseline reality but at a slightly different quantum frequency. If he couldn't correct it, the two states would annihilate each other.
"Northern anchor failing!" Marcus shouted. "I can't hold—"
"Probability spike detected!" Aria's voice was sharp with alarm. "Ninety-three percent chance of cascade failure in three seconds!"
Lin didn't think. His void-integration surged, the darkness he'd accepted giving him access to impossible techniques. He reached into the space between dimensions—the void-space that shouldn't be touched—and used it as a buffer, absorbing the misalignment energy that threatened to destroy everything.
Pain exploded through his consciousness. Void-space was antithetical to existence. Touching it was like pressing his hand into acid. But he held on, burning through his energy reserves, using his body as a filter between void and reality.
"Alignment correcting!" Yuki's relief was audible. "Quantum coherence stabilizing! He's doing it!"
Lin pushed harder, forcing the reintegration to complete. São Paulo snapped into place in baseline reality with a sound like thunder across dimensions.
Then silence.
Lin released his hold on void-space and collapsed.
He woke in the medical bay twenty minutes later. Maya was there, along with Yuki and Wei.
"Status?" Lin asked, his voice rough.
"São Paulo is home," Wei said simply. "Three million people, completely unharmed. They experienced approximately four seconds of temporal discontinuity—mild disorientation, nothing serious. Some reports of strange dreams during the 'lost time,' but no injuries, no casualties, no timeline paradoxes."
Relief washed over Lin so intensely it was almost painful. "It worked."
"You worked," Maya corrected. "That void-space trick at the end? That was pure genius. Also completely insane and you're lucky you didn't get corrupted touching that much raw void. But genius."
"Your corruption levels spiked during the contact," Yuki added, pulling up medical displays. "Reached forty-seven percent—that's well into dangerous territory. But somehow you pulled back. The void-integration you achieved when you absorbed your corrupted instance is holding. You can touch void-space without being consumed. That's... unprecedented."
"It hurt," Lin admitted. "Like nothing I've ever felt. The void isn't just empty—it's anti-existence. Being."
"But you survived it," Wei said. "And now we know you can interface with void-space directly. That's going to be critical for the counteroffensive."
Right. The plan they'd discussed. Taking the fight to the Void Manifest itself, finding its source, severing the connection permanently.
"When do we start planning?" Lin asked, sitting up despite Yuki's protests.
"You just reintegrated a city and touched raw void-space," Yuki said firmly. "You're not planning anything for at least twelve hours. Doctor's orders."
"She's right," Wei agreed. "Rest. Recover. We brief tomorrow morning. The Void's been quiet since the fourteen-breach attack—it's adapting, learning from that failure. We have time to prepare properly."
"Plus you need to see something," Maya said, pulling up a news feed on the room's display.
The screen showed coverage from São Paulo. Confused but relieved citizens, talking about the strange few seconds where reality had felt... wrong. Then everything was normal again. Some called it a mass hallucination. Others claimed divine intervention. A few suspected dimensional displacement, but were dismissed as conspiracy theorists.
None of them knew how close they'd come to complete annihilation.
"They're calling it the São Paulo Event," Maya said. "Biggest mass temporal anomaly in recorded history. Governments are scrambling to explain it. Scientific community is going crazy trying to understand what happened."
"Let them theorize," Wei said. "Better they waste time on wrong explanations than discover controllers exist. We can't have humanity knowing the truth yet—mass panic would make our job harder."
Lin watched the news coverage, seeing three million people going about their lives, completely unaware that a maintenance-technician-turned-cosmic-warrior had saved them by touching the void itself.
Anonymous heroism. He could live with that.
"Get some rest," Wei said, heading for the door. "Tomorrow we plan humanity's counteroffensive. Today, you recover. That's an order."
He left, taking Yuki with him.
Maya lingered. "You okay? Really?"
"I touched the void," Lin said quietly. "Felt what it's like to not exist. It was..." He struggled to find words. "Peaceful. In the most terrible way. No pain, no fear, no responsibility. Just... nothing. I understand now why corrupted controllers choose it. Why Ethan thought he was being merciful."
"But you came back."
"Because nothing isn't better than something. Absence isn't superior to existence. The void promises peace, but it's the peace of death. Of ending. And I'm not ready to end." He met her eyes. "None of us should be."
Maya smiled. "That's why you're the variable. You can touch the void without being seduced by it. You see the truth of what it is and reject it anyway. That's your real power, Lin. Not the spacefold or the omniscience. Your refusal to surrender."
"Is refusal really power? Or just stubbornness?"
"In our situation? Same thing." She stood to leave. "Rest. Tomorrow we figure out how to kill infinity. Tonight, just be proud you saved three million lives."
She left through a portal.
Lin lay back in the medical bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His chip was already working on repairs, cycling energy back into depleted reserves, healing the damage from void-space contact.
He activated his omniscience briefly, looking at possible futures. They were still mostly dark past forty days. Still mostly showed humanity losing. But here and there, in rare branches, he saw victory. Saw survival. Saw something worth fighting for.
The probability had improved. Not much—maybe two percent better than before. But improvement was improvement.
Three million people were alive because of him. That was worth the pain. Worth the risk. Worth carrying the weight of impossible responsibility.
Lin closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
Tomorrow they'd plan the impossible.
Tonight, he'd earned his rest.
Morning came too quickly.
Lin found himself in the Nexus's strategy chamber—a space that had reconfigured itself into something resembling a military war room. Holographic displays covered every surface, showing dimensional maps, breach patterns, corrupted controller locations, and tactical projections.
All twelve active controllers were present. Wei stood at the center, his command presence filling the room. Maya sat near Lin, looking alert despite the psychological strain from her infinity-touch. Marcus leaned against a wall, arms crossed. Aria sat perfectly still, her omniscience clearly active. Yuki examined data streams with scientific intensity.
The other seven controllers Lin had only met briefly. He made mental notes as Wei introduced them for the formal planning session.
Jun Park - Korean, early thirties, specialized in defensive dimensional barriers. Quiet, methodical, reliable.
Isabella Santos - Brazilian, late twenties, offensive specialist focusing on reality-cutting attacks. Fierce, direct, efficient.
Dmitri Volkov - Russian, mid-forties, timeline acceleration and deceleration expert. Philosophical, careful, precise.
Kenji Sato - Japanese, early twenties, youngest controller, specialized in quantum computing and information warfare. Nervous but brilliant.
Elena Vasquez - Spanish, mid-thirties, biological manipulation and healing enhancement. Warm, caring, but ruthlessly pragmatic in combat.
Omar Hassan - Egyptian, late thirties, dimensional navigation and mapping specialist. Calm, experienced, often volunteered for the most dangerous reconnaissance missions.
Rachel Cohen - Israeli, early forties, probability manipulation and luck engineering. Sardonic humor masking deep compassion.
Twelve controllers. Twelve individuals with god-like power. Twelve people trying to save a species that didn't even know it was doomed.
"Let's begin," Wei announced, bringing up a central holographic display. "Lin's successful reintegration of São Paulo proved something critical: he can interface with void-space directly without immediate corruption. This opens strategic options we didn't have before."
"You want him to enter void-space," Dmitri said, not a question. "Find the Void Manifest's source point. Sever the connection."
"Exactly." Wei highlighted specific coordinates on the display—places where dimensional boundaries were thinnest, where void-space pressed closest to baseline reality. "We've identified seven potential entry points. Once inside void-space, Lin would need to navigate to the source—what we're calling the Void Nexus—and perform a dimensional severance."
"That's suicide," Isabella said bluntly. "Void-space is infinite. There's no navigation, no landmarks, no way to find anything. He'd be lost immediately."
"Not if I anchor him," Maya said. "My timeline manipulation can create a thread connecting him to baseline reality. A lifeline he can follow back."
"Your timeline manipulation nearly killed you in Peru," Yuki pointed out. "Creating a lifeline across void-space would be orders of magnitude more difficult. The strain could be fatal."
"Then we reinforce her," Rachel suggested. "Multiple controllers working together. I can manipulate probability to increase the lifeline's stability. Dmitri can slow down its degradation. Jun can shield it from void corruption. Teamwork."
"Even with support, the energy requirements are massive," Kenji said, pulling up calculations that made Lin's enhanced mind ache. "We'd need to channel power through multiple controllers simultaneously for extended periods. Days, potentially. Our reserves couldn't sustain it."
"What if we had an external power source?" Omar asked. "The Nexus itself sits between dimensions. Could we tap into its dimensional engines?"
"Theoretically," Yuki said slowly, her scientific mind already running calculations. "The Nexus generates power by extracting energy from dimensional friction—the quantum foam where realities rub against each other. If we could redirect that power into the lifeline..." She trailed off, data streaming across her displays. "Yes. It could work. We'd need to reconfigure the Nexus's power distribution, but it's possible."
"How long for the reconfiguration?" Wei asked.
"Three days, minimum. Maybe four."
"We have thirty-seven days until cascade failure," Marcus said. "Four days to prepare, that leaves thirty-three for the actual mission. That's cutting it close if something goes wrong."
"Everything will go wrong," Rachel said with dark humor. "That's a given. The question is whether we can adapt fast enough to survive it."
"What about the corrupted controllers?" Aria spoke for the first time, her voice soft but everyone listened. "Sandra and Thomas are still out there, plus the three unknowns from the fourteen-breach attack. If they realize what we're planning, they'll interfere. The Void Manifest uses them as proxies—it'll know we're attempting something."
"We set up decoys," Wei said. "Make it look like we're planning multiple operations. Spread our movements across different locations. Keep them guessing about our real target until the last moment."
"I can help with that," Omar offered. "My dimensional navigation leaves traces. If I deliberately create false navigation paths, corrupted controllers will follow them thinking they're tracking our plans."
"Good." Wei marked several locations on the tactical display. "Omar creates false trails. Isabella, Marcus, you'll lead strike teams to seal breaches at those locations—real operations that serve as cover for the main mission. Make enough noise to draw attention."
"While Lin enters void-space and finds the Nexus," Maya finished. "Classic misdirection."
"What about extraction?" Elena asked. "Once Lin severs the Void Nexus—assuming he succeeds—how does he get out? Won't the void-space collapse if its connection to baseline reality is cut?"
Silence filled the chamber as everyone realized the implication.
"You're asking if this is a suicide mission," Lin said quietly.
"I'm asking if we have an extraction plan," Elena corrected, but her eyes were sympathetic.
Lin activated his omniscience, looking at futures where he entered void-space. Most of them were dark—his consciousness dissolving into infinite absence, becoming one with the void. But in a few branches, rare and fragile, he emerged. Changed, damaged, but alive.
"Fifteen percent survival probability," Lin reported. "If I can sever the Nexus before void-space collapses, I might be able to fold back to baseline reality. The severance would create a brief window—maybe three seconds—where dimensional barriers are unstable enough to pierce from inside."
"Fifteen percent isn't good," Marcus muttered.
"It's better than zero percent, which is what humanity has if we don't try this," Lin countered. "I'll take those odds."
"I won't," Maya said firmly. "We're not sending you on a suicide mission with fifteen percent survival. We improve those odds or we find another plan."
"There is no other plan!" Lin's frustration boiled over. "We've tried defensive tactics. They don't work. The void adapts faster than we can respond. This is our only real chance to win, and you want to abandon it because the odds aren't perfect?"
"I want to not lose you after knowing you for less than a week!" Maya shot back. "You think you're expendable? You're not! You're the variable, remember? The one element that makes victory possible! If you die in void-space, humanity loses its best chance!"
"Then what do you suggest?" Lin demanded.
"We improve the extraction plan. Add redundancies. Increase your survival odds." Maya turned to the others. "What if multiple controllers created extraction points simultaneously? If one fails, Lin has alternatives."
"That could work," Jun said thoughtfully. "If we positioned controllers at different dimensional frequencies, created overlapping exit portals... Lin could choose the most stable one in the moment."
"It would drain our power reserves," Yuki warned. "Maintaining multiple extraction points while supporting Maya's lifeline? We'd be operating at the edge of our capabilities."
"That's where we've always operated," Wei said. "At the edge. Beyond it, usually. This is no different." He looked around the chamber. "Vote. Do we proceed with the void-space mission? All in favor?"
Hands rose. One by one, every controller voted yes. Even Maya, reluctantly, raised her hand.
"Unanimous," Wei confirmed. "We proceed. Yuki, begin Nexus reconfiguration immediately. Omar, start planting false navigation trails. Isabella, Marcus, coordinate with me on decoy operations. Everyone else, prepare for the support roles. We launch in four days."
The meeting broke up, controllers dispersing to their assigned tasks. Lin started to leave, but Maya caught his arm.
"I'm still not happy about this," she said.
"I know. But it's the right call."
"Right doesn't mean I have to like it." She met his eyes. "Promise me something. If you get in there and realize you can't make it out—if the odds drop to zero—don't try to be a hero. Just fold back immediately. Mission failure is better than losing you."
"I can't promise that. If I'm in position to sever the Nexus, I'm taking the shot regardless of extraction odds. That's the mission."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"What? No. Absolutely not."
"You need someone to anchor the lifeline anyway. Might as well be me, inside void-space, able to adjust in real-time." Her expression was determined. "My timeline manipulation works better at close range. If I'm there with you, I can stabilize your probability thread, increase your survival odds."
"You'll die. Void-space will kill you."
"Maybe. Or maybe my timeline manipulation can create a bubble of causality around us—a small piece of baseline reality that exists inside the void temporarily." She smiled. "Yuki's been helping me with the math. It's theoretical, but possible. Forty-two percent chance of success."
"That's worse than my extraction odds!"
"Yes, but combined, we increase each other's survival probability. Symbiotic mathematics." She squeezed his arm. "I'm not letting you do this alone, Lin. We're a team. Teams don't abandon each other to suicide missions."
Lin wanted to argue, but her logic was sound. And if he was being honest, the thought of going into void-space with someone he trusted made the mission feel slightly less impossible.
"You're sure about this?" he asked.
"Absolutely not. I'm terrified. But I'm sure about not letting you face it alone." She released his arm. "Now come on. We have four days to prepare. Let's make them count."
The next four days passed in a blur of preparation.
Yuki reconfigured the Nexus's power systems, redirecting dimensional energy into a massive capacitor array that would fuel the lifeline and extraction points. Kenji developed communication protocols that might work across void-space—purely theoretical, but worth attempting. Omar planted false navigation trails across seventeen dimensions, creating a maze of misdirection.
Isabella and Marcus planned their decoy operations with military precision. They'd be hitting five major breach sites simultaneously with the launch of Lin's mission, making enough tactical noise to draw every corrupted controller's attention.
Jun, Dmitri, Rachel, and Elena practiced their support roles—maintaining extraction points, reinforcing Maya's lifeline, providing emergency power if systems started failing. Aria refined her omniscience targeting, trying to see further into the mission's futures despite the probability blind spots.
And Lin trained.
He pushed his void-integration to its limits, learning to exist in spaces that shouldn't permit existence. He practiced dimensional navigation in increasingly hostile environments. He refined his spacefold techniques, learning to fold faster, more precisely, with less energy expenditure.
Maya trained beside him, developing her causality bubble theory. By day three, she could create small pockets of baseline reality inside simulated void-spaces. They lasted only seconds before collapsing, but it was progress.
On the fourth day, as final preparations reached completion, Lin found himself alone in the observation deck. Tomorrow they'd launch the mission. Tomorrow he'd enter void-space and try to do the impossible.
Fifteen percent survival odds. Maybe forty percent if Maya's causality bubble worked. Better than nothing, but still a coin flip at best.
He activated his omniscience one last time, looking at the futures. The probability blind spot around the mission was massive—he couldn't see what would happen once he entered void-space. But he could see the branches afterward, the timelines that resulted from success or failure.
In the failure branches, humanity ended in thirty-seven days. Complete dimensional collapse. Reality unmade.
In the success branches... something changed. The timelines extended past forty days, past the cascade failure point. Humanity survived. But Lin couldn't see details—the futures were hazy, uncertain, full of variables he couldn't parse.
"Thinking too hard again," Maya's voice came from behind him. She'd gotten good at sneaking up on him.
"Just reviewing the odds."
"And?"
"Still terrible."
"Good. If they were good, I'd be suspicious." She moved to stand beside him, both watching probability streams flow past the windows. "You know what I realized? We've been fighting this war from a position of desperation. Always reacting, always behind, always struggling to catch up. Tomorrow we stop reacting. Tomorrow we attack. That's worth celebrating, regardless of odds."
"You're remarkably calm for someone about to enter the void."
"I'm terrified. But I'm also excited. How often do people get to attempt the truly impossible? To do something that breaks omniscience itself?" She grinned. "Besides, I've got the best dimensional folder in existence watching my back. I'll be fine."
"I hope you're right."
"Me too." Her expression sobered. "Lin, if something goes wrong tomorrow—"
"Don't. We're both coming back."
"But if we don't, I want you to know..." She paused, choosing words carefully. "You changed everything. Four days ago we were losing slowly. Now we have a real chance. Whatever happens tomorrow, you gave humanity hope. That matters."
"We gave humanity hope. All of us."
"True. But you're the catalyst. The variable that made it possible." She turned to face him fully. "Promise me one thing?"
"Depends on the promise."
"If we succeed tomorrow, if we actually sever the Void Nexus and survive—promise you'll teach me that void-integration trick. I want to understand how you carry darkness without being consumed by it. That seems like a useful skill."
Lin smiled despite himself. "If we survive, I'll teach you everything I know."
"Deal." She extended her hand.
He shook it, sealing the promise.
"Now come on," Maya said. "Wei's called a pre-mission briefing. Final checks before tomorrow."
They left the observation deck together, heading toward the war room where twelve controllers would finalize plans to attempt the impossible.
Tomorrow they'd enter void-space.
Tomorrow they'd try to kill infinity.
Tomorrow would determine whether humanity had a future or just thirty-three more days of borrowed time.
Lin was terrified.
But he was ready.