Echoes of the Rift

The moment the rift opened, reality fractured.

Commander Jax Halden watched from the bridge of the Starship Valiant as the swirling tear in space expanded, writhing with violet energy. It hadn’t been there an hour ago. Now, it pulsed like a living thing, stretching wider with every second.

“Lyra, status report,” Jax ordered, gripping the console.

His AI co-pilot responded, her voice laced with static. “Anomaly is increasing in size at an exponential rate. Gravitational fluctuations are intensifying.”

Jax turned to his crew. “We need to scan for—”

“Commander…”

The voice came from the comms. But it wasn’t Lyra. And it wasn’t his crew.

It was his own voice.

Jax froze. The rest of the crew exchanged uneasy glances.

“Who the hell just spoke?” Lieutenant Vega muttered.

The voice came again, crackling through the speakers.

“This is Commander Jax Halden… of the Starship Valiant. If you’re hearing this, it’s already too late.”

Jax’s blood ran cold. “That’s impossible,” he whispered.

“It’s a recording?” Vega suggested.

Lyra’s voice cut in, urgent. “Negative. The transmission is live.”

Jax swallowed hard. “Patch me through.”

A beat of silence. Then, his own voice—from beyond the rift—answered.

“Jax. Listen to me. You have to shut it down. Now.”

Jax’s throat tightened. “Who are you?”

The response was immediate.

“I’m you. From the other side.”

The bridge fell into stunned silence.

“That’s impossible,” Vega said, shaking her head. “Cloning? AI mimicry?”

Jax ignored her, stepping closer to the console. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I remember standing exactly where you are, asking the same damn question,” the other Jax snapped. “And I didn’t listen. That’s why I’m dead.”

Jax’s pulse pounded in his ears.

“The rift is a temporal echo. It connects different versions of us, across parallel timelines. And every single one of them has ended the same way—our ship gets pulled in. No one comes back.”“

The rift pulsed, and the ship lurched. Klaxons blared.

“Commander, gravitational pull is increasing!” Lyra warned. “At this rate, we’ll be past the event horizon in two minutes.”

Jax gritted his teeth. “Then how do we shut it down?”

Silence.

“That’s the problem,” his other self admitted. “I never figured it out.”

Jax clenched his fists. “Dammit!” He turned to Vega. “Prepare emergency thrusters. We’re getting out of here.”

Vega’s hands flew across the controls. “Engines are at max, but the rift is pulling harder. We won’t break free!”

Static crackled. The other Jax’s voice returned—fainter, strained.

“Jax… there’s one way. You have to destroy the ship.”

Jax stiffened. “Not an option.”

“You think I wanted to? But it’s the only way to collapse the anomaly. You either die here, or you doom every version of us.”“

Jax’s heart hammered. He looked at his crew—Vega, Lyra, the people who trusted him.

Could he really make that call?

The rift shuddered, its glow intensifying. Time was up.

Jax exhaled.

“All hands,” he commanded, “prepare for emergency evacuation.”

Vega’s eyes widened. “Jax—”

But he had already pressed the override. Self-destruct initiated.

His own voice crackled one last time through the speakers.

“I’m sorry.”

Then, the rift swallowed them whole.