The Last Frequency

The sound was unmistakable. A hum. Low, pulsing, like the heartbeat of a world that no longer existed.

Commander Leo Sinclair sat at the communications console aboard the Stellar Vanguard, staring at the monitor as the faint signal flickered in and out. It was weak, barely audible, but there was no mistaking it. Someone, somewhere, was calling.

“Is it possible?” His voice was rough, his throat tight from days without sleep.

Lieutenant Ada Carter, seated next to him, squinted at the readings. “It’s coming from the Galaxium Rift, sir. But we’ve already checked every frequency—nothing should be transmitting from there.”

“I know,” Leo muttered, gripping the edge of the console. His mind raced. The Galaxium Rift had been a forbidden zone for over a century, a dark spot on the map that had swallowed entire fleets. Any ship that entered it was lost, its final transmission nothing but silence or static.

Yet this hum persisted.

“Any idea what it is?” Ada asked, clearly skeptical, though the curiosity in her voice betrayed her.

Leo paused, running through their limited options. The Rift had always been a mystery—no one had ever returned from it, and most scientists considered it a void, an anomaly that didn’t belong in the universe. But if this signal was real, it could mean…

“Could be a distress signal,” Leo said finally, though he didn’t believe the words himself. “Could be someone out there… waiting for help.”

Ada raised an eyebrow. “Commander, there’s no way. That region of space has been devoid of life for over fifty years. No ship has passed through the Rift, not since—”

“I know the history, Ada,” Leo interrupted. “But if there’s even a chance… we have to check.”

The silence in the cockpit grew heavy, the hum of the signal filling the space around them. They had been drifting toward the Rift for days, and now, after everything, they were on the edge of a decision that could change everything.

The signal pulsed again—louder this time. Leo leaned closer to the console, his heart racing. He could almost hear something in the background now. A voice?

Ada turned to him, her face pale. “Commander, we’re too close. We’re—”

Leo cut her off, his voice sharp. “Increase the amplification. I need to hear this clearly.”

Ada hesitated, then reluctantly tapped a few keys. The sound that filled the cabin next was unmistakable—words, broken and strained, a voice gasping for breath. It sounded familiar, though distorted by time and space.

“… Leo… Leo, if you’re hearing this… don’t come… stay away…”

His blood ran cold. That voice… it was his own. His breath hitched as he realized what it meant.

“No… no, this can’t be…” Leo whispered, his hand trembling as he reached for the console. “Shut it down. We need to get out of here—now.”

But it was too late. The Rift was already pulling them in, gravity welling up around them, warping their trajectory. Leo could feel the pull, as though the universe itself was trying to swallow them whole.

“We’re being pulled in,” Ada gasped, struggling with the controls as they fought to break free. “Commander, what’s happening? What is that?”

Leo could only stare at the screen as the signal intensified, the voice now clear—no longer distorted.

“Leo… you shouldn’t have come. We are all lost here. The Rift… is a doorway.”

He froze. A doorway?

Before he could react, the cabin lights flickered, and the ship’s systems shut down one by one. The sound of the hum became deafening, surrounding them like a living thing.

Then, as the last of the control panels died, Leo heard it again, this time without the distortion. His own voice, calling out to him from the other side of the Rift.

“Don’t… don’t let it take you.”

And then, there was nothing.

The Stellar Vanguard drifted into the void, lost to space and time, just as every ship before it had been. And the last frequency, the last signal, slowly faded into silence, waiting for the next soul to hear its call.