Inktober 2026 25
Inktober 2026 25, Fracture
Somehow, everyone fitted. Survivors, hero, robot, even SOSi, bolted down in a corner with its dish still ticking. The ramp sealed with a soft sigh, and the dapper man lifted a hand to a panel we couldn’t read.
We didn’t feel a thing. No shudder, no thrust, no pressing back into the seats. Through the viewport the wreck simply slid away, as though the plain were being pulled out from under us.
Then the energies began to pour out ahead of the ship. Space itself split. A fracture tore open in the dark, ragged and branching like lightning frozen in glass, and the light inside it was in colours none of us could name. Violet, gold, something between them that hurt to look at and that nobody wanted to look away from.
The silver ship slipped into the light without a sound.
We were going home.
Fracture.
