Elder Shazz’lah shuffled on his seat as he read the report. The data pad’s frame groaned under the pressure. A crack appeared in the corner of the screen before he forced himself to relax his grip Twenty thousand confirmed dead. One million in a coma, caught in a psionic surge, as good as dead. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to leave a mark, forcing himself to breath slowly. His jaw clenched as he continued reading. Sensor readings everywhere that would raise uncomfortable questions. Worse, the explosion had unearthed a hidden lab full of very expensive, very rare and very traceable equipment.

  In this room, hidden from any observers, he did not have to control his emotions. And right now, he was furious.

  This was a disaster. His sacred work was already very controversial within the Church of Enlightened Knowledge, but with this, there was no escaping the scandal. The Ecclesiarchy would censure them. Decades of effort potentially ruined if this matter was not handled properly. The Emperor always favored the Omniversalists’ soft approach and the Glorious Will’s hero complex. But his church was barely tolerated. Without them, the empire would stagnate, comfortable in its already great scientific achievements. They were the ones pushing forward.

  And there would be problems within the church too. Truth Through Understanding. Enlightenment Through Knowledge. Progress Without Limit. The Church's creed, inscribed on every temple wall, every laboratory threshold. The moderates paid lip service to it but lacked conviction. They questioned, delayed, imposed 'ethical frameworks' that slowed the pursuit of Truth. This disaster would give them ammunition.

  He took a breath, forcing himself to stay focused on finishing to read the report. His left hand absently reached for the connection port behind his ear, his fingers tracing its cold metal rim in a slow circle. The familiar sensation usually helped him think. But today it was not working.

  Once done, he stared at the wall for a full minute, his grey eyes unfocused, seeing not steel panels but the cascade of consequences spiraling before him. He released a deep breath, the slow, controlled, breathing technique from his novitiate training. Always go back to the basics. Truth comes from a solid foundation. Leaning on his chair, he let his eyes wander while his mind was formulating plans. Damage control. Misdirections. Political maneuvering.

  The room was small. A perfect cube, three meters by three meters, designed for function over comfort. No concession was made to aesthetics. The walls were bare metal panels, seams visible, conduits exposed. Psionic dampeners hummed at frequencies just below conscious perception, ensuring no remote viewing could penetrate. Signal jammers created a dead zone for any electronic surveillance. The static noise masked even sound vibrations in the walls.

  A simple desk of brushed steel dominated the cramped space, a pile of tablets resting on its surface. A disintegration bin at its foot, a comfortable chair and nothing else. The chair was the only concession to comfort: ergonomically molded, anti-gravitic suspension, worn smooth by years of use.

  Elder Shazz’lah carefully set the tablet in the bin, then activated it. A flash of light confirmed the tablet and its content were gone forever, reduced to scattered atoms.

  He was thin, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His skin was stretched and had the pallor of someone spending too much time spent in artificial light. His grey eyes were cold and analytical, the gaze of someone who only saw problems to solve and tools to use.

  He had a shaved head, and several connection ports forming a crescent from one ear to the other, culminating in a circular metal cap at the top of his head. The ports gleamed dully in the harsh light, marking him as one who had sacrificed flesh for enhanced processing power. A true believer in the Church's teachings: the body was merely hardware to be upgraded.

  He wore austere robes with a very functional design, but the fabric was expensive and of the highest quality, ending in a straight collar around his neck. The collar had ornate patterns, indicating a high ranking member of a church. The patterns were intricate with rigid lines, resembling computer circuits, showing he was part of the Church of the Enlightened Knowledge.

  After several minutes of deep reflection, he rose from his chair and crossed to the far wall. His hand found a section of panel that looked identical to the others and pressed it. An audible click echoed. After an instant, the sharp clang of heavy magnetic locks disengaging. A seam appeared in the wall where none had been visible before. The door slid open with a hiss of pressurized gas. Revealing a nondescript corridor and the figure of his aide, Klixx, waiting patiently outside.

  He was a Krix’tinh. His head was triangular, with two prominent faceted eyes, two segmented antennae jutting up, and mandibules instead of a mouth. Small, barely above a meter and a half, his segmented body was hidden under his robes. He had four small legs and four arms. The upper ones out of his sleeves, showing delicate manipulators, while the lower ones remained hidden and tucked against his torso. His chitinous carapace was a plain brown with gold motifs that resembled cracks in stone or veins of precious metal.His robes had the same cut as Elder Shazz’lah, but made of more common fabric and he had simpler patterns on his collar.

  “How may this one help you, Honored Elder?” the words coming from his translation device, rendering his native clicking speech into flat, precise Galactic Standard.

  “Come in, I have instructions for you,” commanded Shazz’lah, as he turned around and moved back to his chair, never once checking if he was followed. Klixx entered with the characteristic careful gait of his species, his small legs concealed beneath his robes, creating the illusion that he was gliding rather than walking.

  They waited in silence until the door finished closing with a pneumatic hiss and the magnetic locks re-engaged with a heavy thunk. Only then did the privacy field fully activate—the static hum rising to its familiar pitch. Elder Shazz'lah's shoulders relaxed fractionally. Now they could speak freely.

  “You were right to bring me those reports right away, Klixx.” he said.

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  “This one is pleased it did not disturb Honored Elder's meditation with trivial concerns”, Klixx intoned, in the peculiar speech pattern of his people.

  “We walk a narrow path between Truth and disaster, and I will rely on you greatly” the elder continued. “They made a catastrophic error. And it’s going to be a huge mess. What I am going to tell you is confidential and above your rank, but I need you to know, otherwise, you won’t be able to help.”

  His aide said nothing, staying perfectly still. Shazz’lah let a smile form on his lips. Klixx's loyalty and efficiency were why he'd kept the Krix'tinh as his personal aide for twelve years. That, and Klixx understood when not to ask questions.

  “One of our secret labs made a breakthrough. They were supposed to remain theoretical, but they couldn't resist. They built it. And what they managed to accomplish...” He paused, genuine awe despite his anger. “They actually did it. Pure genius. They achieved what the moderates said was impossible. What the Church of the Absolute called hubris. What even Elder Von'lah urged us to abandon. Too bad they all died,” his voice grew colder “Had they survived, I would have killed them myself for this incompetence. Instead of securing the data and bringing it back for analysis, they pushed the experiment. Their system was unstable. There were cascading failures. The entire facility exploded, destroying half the city. The crater is three point seven kilometers wide. The entire commercial district they were hiding under is just… gone.”

  He looked Klixx directly, his gaze unwavering. “Half the planet’s surface was flooded with psionic energies. One million citizens had their minds wiped clean, they are in coma, with no hope of them waking up. This is catastrophic. Big enough to reach His Majesty’s attention. The investigation is going to be thorough. There is no hope they won’t link it back to us. The moderates will have a field day and the Ecclesiarchy will tighten their control on our church. I need Elder Von’lah to handle the oecumenic council and to keep the moderates in line. While I manage the investigators and inquisitors”, he sighed heavily.

  “I need to go there as quickly as possible. We will pretend they’re a rogue team of acolytes, that we were on their trail and they were careless because of that. It's plausible enough. We've expelled radical factions before. The investigators will be reluctant to implicate the entire Church. We'll give them a few names, some fabricated evidence. It should be enough to close the case. But His Majesty’s agent will require finesse. I need to manage the cover-up personally.”

  “The Truth requires protection,” Shazz'lah continued, using the capital-T formulation their order favored. 'Not suppression. Protection. Until we understand what we've discovered, until we can present it complete and undeniable, the ignorant will destroy it out of fear. That is the burden of the enlightened.”

  Klixx remained perfectly still, his compound eyes reflecting the light in shifting patterns.

  It was not the first time the Church’s pursuit of knowledge caused loss of life or property destruction. Their credo was searching for enlightenment through understanding of the universe. Their zeal often led them to set aside safety or ethics. A necessary evil in the name of faith. To avoid persecutions, they often worked in secret. It was not the first time an accident would bring them in conflict with the imperial authorities, nor the last. This time, the magnitude of the event was indeed catastrophic, but Elder Shazz’lah’s tone suggested this was not the worst of it.

  “I need you to coordinate with Elder Rubin'lah on this. As I told you, the experiment was a success beyond our wildest dreams. By the Light of Truth, it was unprecedented. They managed to open a portal to another universe.” He paused to let it sink in. “Not to another dimension, not to hyperspace. No. To another universe entirely.”

  For the first time since entering the room, Klixx’s composure wavered. His head oscillated right to left for a full three seconds, an atavistic gesture of excitement the Krix’Tinh never managed to remove.

  "The Omniversalists claim all consciousness is connected through their mythical Unimanity, a higher-dimensional communion linking all minds.’ Shazz'lah's lip curled. “Pure mysticism. But we, through science, through rigorous experimentation, have proven the existence of other realities. Other universes. If consciousness exists there, we will understand it. Not commune with it like superstitious monks."

  “It was unstable, created a cascade reaction and ultimately exploded.” Elder Shazz’lah continued. “According to the report, there was an influx of psionic energy. It was massive, beyond anything in our records. Every sensor maxed out simultaneously. Every psionic recorder flatlined. And in that moment, before the cascade reaction tore the lab apart, something came through the portal. Multiple things. The surviving witnesses, the ones who weren't rendered catatonic by the psionic backlash, reported minds. Sentient minds. Not from our universe.They went through and flew away, faster than light.”

  He pointed to the other data pads on his desk. “I have received reports across the Empire. Priests of every faith all sensed the same psionic surge. Not just our sensitives, but also the Omniversalists with their precious Unimanity mediation but also the Sons of Man combat chaplains." His fingers drummed on the desk. Once. Before he could control himself. “They will ask questions. The Ecclesiarch will demand an investigation from within. We need to control the narrative.”

  Lost in thought he started to make plans, before getting back on track.

  “The psionic surge was simultaneous. But it was not felt everywhere nor at the same magnitude. No clear pattern, yet. But I am sure it was them. They could be anywhere in the empire, by now. Any system. Any world. And we have no way to track them. We need to find them and study them. But we need to be extremely discreet. No one can know what we did, what we achieved.”

  Klixx stayed silent for a moment, before asking, his mandible clicking slowly, a sign of deep calculation: “what about the other teams? If His Majesty personally sends a team, they will be thorough. There is a chance they will find more than the subject of their research. They were in contact with the others, there will be communication logs. Even the best encryption can be broken with enough time and resources. Imperial agents will have both. The entire project might be compromised.”

  “We’re freezing the project for now. Send the message, they need to lay low until it is safe. I want those entities captured and studied before we do anything”, Shazz’lah answered

  “Find them.” He leaned forward, his eyes locked on Klixx, cold and full of zeal. “Secure them, study them. And when we have everything we need, remove all traces.” He let the silence stretch. “I specially chose you to ensure Elder Rubin’lah complies to this. He is… sentimental. He is brilliant, but lacks clarity of purpose. You will ensure he does not compromise this operation with mercy. Leave no witness. No evidence. No test subjects, no data traces, no loose ends. Nothing.”

  Klixx's upper arms folded in acknowledgment, his antennae dipped forward. "This one understands, Honored Elder."

  Shazz'lah turned his attention to the remaining tablets on his desk, already dismissing his aide from his thoughts.

  “May Truth light your way,” he intoned.

  “And guide your hand to Enlightenment,” Klixx responded, completing the ritual phrase. He backed toward the door with the careful precision of his kind, never turning away from the Elder until the door hissed shut between them.