by Tufo, Mark
A Shrouded World Book 7
HVERGELMIR
Mark Tufo
John O’Brien
Copyright © 2020 by Mark Tufo/ John O’Brien
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Other Books By Mark Tufo
Other Books By John O’Brien
1. Jack Walker - Chapter 1
2. Main Menu
3. Historical life form creation archives
4. Director Creation
5. Overseer Evolution
6. Traveler Evolution
7. Enforcer Evolution
8. Melanform Lifeform
9. Iteration 512 Control menu
10. Iteration 512: World 254
11. Jack Walker — Chapter Two
12. Mike Journal Entry 1
13. Mike Journal Entry 2
14. Mike Journal Entry 3
15. Mike Journal Entry 4
16. Mike Journal Entry 5
17. Jack Walker — Chapter Three
18. Jack Walker — Chapter Four
19. Jack Walker — Chapter Five
20. Jack Walker — Chapter Six
21. Mike Journal Entry 6
22. Mike Journal Entry 7
23. Mike Journal Entry 8
About Mark Tufo
About John O’Brien
A Shrouded World The Series
Other Books By Mark Tufo
Zombie Fallout Series
* * *
Zombie Fallout 1
Zombie Fallout 2: A Plague Upon Your Family
Zombie Fallout 3: The End...
Zombie Fallout 3.5: Dr. Hugh Mann
Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone
Zombie Fallout 5: Alive in a Dead World
Zombie Fallout 6: ‘Til Death Do Us Part
Zombie Fallout 7: For the Fallen
Zombie Fallout 8: An Old Beginning
Zombie Fallout 9: Tattered Remnants
Zombie Fallout 10: Those Left Behind
Zombie Fallout 11: Etna Station
Zombie Fallout 12: Dog Days
Zombie Fallout 13: A Perfect Betrayal
Indian Hill
* * *
Indian Hill 1: Encounters
Indian Hill 2: Reckoning
Indian Hill 3: Conquest
Indian Hill 4: From The Ashes
Indian Hill 5: Into The Fire
Indian Hill 6: Victory’s Defeat
Indian Hill 7: Defeat’s Victory
Lycan Fallout
* * *
Lycan Fallout 1: Rise Of The Werewolf
Lycan Fallout 2: Fall Of Man
Lycan Fallout 3: End Of An Age
Lycan Fallout 4: Immoralty’s Touchstone
Demon Fallout: The Return
Lycan Fallout 5: Demon Wars
Dystance
Dystance 1: Winters Rising
Dystance 2: Cedar’s Conflict
Dystance 3: The Edge Of Decit
The Book Of Riley A Zombie Tale Books 1-5
Timothy Series
Timothy
Tim 2
Tim 3: Sliced Diced and Cubed
The Spirit Clearing
* * *
Callis Rose
Other Books By John O’Brien
Other books by John O’Brien
* * *
A New World Series
A New World: Chaos
A New World: Return
A New World: Sanctuary
A New World: Taken
A New World: Awakening
A New World: Dissension
A New World: Takedown
A New World: Conspiracy
A New World: Reckoning
A New World: Storm
* * *
Companion Books
A New World: Untold Stories
A New World: Untold Stories II
* * *
ARES VIRUS
Ares Virus: Arctic Storm
Ares Virus: White Horse
Ares Virus: Phoenix Rising
* * *
THE THIRD WAVE: EIDOLON
LIFTING THE VEIL
Lifting the Veil: Fallen
Lifting the Veil: Winter
Lifting the Veil: Emergence
Lifting the Veil: Risen
* * *
RED TEAM
Red Team: Strigoi
Red Team: Lycan
1
Jack Walker - Chapter 1
The darkness and silence aren’t caused by the absence of light and sound. It’s more like I’m deaf and blind. I’m able to sense the reverberation of noise, but I’m not able to hear it. It’s the same for the surrounding void; I’m unable to see what might be there. The live-wire crackling and roaring of the portal are gone. At least, I think they are. So are the streamers of silver that flowed like rivers across the deep black surface.
Time has no measurement. I could have been in this darkness for several lifetimes or one second; it’s difficult to tell. There’s just a complete lack of sensation, unless you count what lies in my mind. I feel like I should be holding on to the collective and cyclic sticks of the helicopter, and I can imagine that I’m still gripping them, but the truth is, I don’t know. There’s no external sensation of any kind.
I wonder exactly where we’ve ended up and whether the others are still with me. I have time for all of these thoughts, as if I exist only in my mind, and all that is, or was, around me are merely projections of my brainwaves. And now that’s all that’s left, my thoughts. A thought occurs and I try to push it away. I have died, and this is the afterlife, a darkness filled with thoughts. A brighter notion…maybe I can learn to control them and create an environment with the sensations enabled.
I think of my kids and attempt to project them into the surrounding darkness. Nothing. I tinker with various methods of making them real to no avail. I try with Lynn and my mother, with Red Team, with anyone I’ve known in the past. Maybe they don’t materialize because they’re still alive in my world and can’t cross that final veil. I attempt the same with Mike and Trip and BT, but the darkness remains.
I start thinking that perhaps this world reached its time and has fully decayed; that I’m now caught in the void into which it goes when it dematerializes. If that’s the case, and I’m left for an eternity with only my thoughts, there’s a good chance I’ll go insane. Again, the time is immeasurable, and this, too, begins affecting my thoughts. If I’ve entered a portal leading to somewhere, I shouldn’t be able to sustain a string of thoughts for so long. In previous transitions through portals, the change was abrupt. Perhaps Trip was the only one allowed through this one, leaving the rest of us trapped in this eternal emptiness.
Sight, sound, and feeling all return in a rush, as if they had never been absent. I’m gripping the sticks, the instruments still going crazy. Loud beeps blast rhythmically and emergency warning lights urgently flash, along with the sound of the jet engines spooling down. The wheels instantly contact the…something. I’d like to call it the ground, but I can’t really do that. The helicopter is again airborne after bouncing.
My mind reels as I glimpse space outside of the cockpit. And by space, I mean the cosmos. I’m surr
ounded by distant galaxies and nebulae. However, wrestling the chopper, which is threatening to careen out of control, is occupying my concentration. We’re speeding and bouncing with the real possibility of crashing into the strange ground; one which isn’t even visible. Not being able to really see the surface we keep hitting makes it a bit difficult to bring the aircraft under control. I pull up to bleed off airspeed and do my best to execute a power-off landing.
The helo finally comes to a stop. I sigh deeply as the rotors slow their spin, relieved to be alive. Looking in the rear view, I see a grinning Trip sitting on the lap of a wide-eyed Mike. Looking down at the wheel strut, BT is nowhere to be seen.
“Well, that was…interesting,” Mike says. “Where in the fuck are we?”
I look outside, taking in more of what I barely glimpsed while wrestling with the helicopter. We came in level with what’s serving as the ground, or the floor, well, the bottom, anyway. I don’t really know what to call it. Luckily, we didn’t arrive at full speed. I’d slowed to deliver a hail of fire on the Overseers waiting atop the bluff, but now, the sight of where we’ve landed is mind-boggling, to say the least.
We’re resting on a clear platform that stretches for at least a quarter of mile in either direction, as far as I can see, anyway. Pulsing like a heartbeat, faint, glowing lines of silver section the clear platform into large squares. More startling however, is that we appear to be suspended in space.
I look quickly around for a planet of some kind, thinking that we landed on some sort of orbiting platform. I even glance down through the clear flooring, but there’s not one in sight. We’re definitely on some kind of platform, but it’s hovering in deep space. Stars glisten in all directions against a black backdrop, crisper and clearer than I’ve ever seen, and beyond them and in between, the dark reaches of space seem emptier. I feel so small and insignificant compared to a universe so fantastically large that my mind wants to shut down.
Off to one side is a spiral galaxy, the many twisting arms filled with blue, white, and red clumps of light with the glow of gases filling the spaces between. As the arms spiral toward the center, they become illuminated by the denser collection of stars. The center is a brightly glowing mass, almost like a huge sun in itself. And from it extends perpendicular jets of blue, racing outward over immense distances. I stare at the image, mesmerized. I know in the center of that mass is a black hole, the violent forces surrounding it unimaginable. It makes anything we’ve encountered thus far drastically pale by comparison, and yet there it is, almost within arm’s reach.
In another direction, closer to us, is a tall nebula of gas reaching upward. It looks like the billowing towers of a massive thunderstorm or something rising from a vent deep under the sea. The sides of the multiple pillars of gas and dust are well-defined with streaks of blue and silver flaring from the tops. The bottom of each pillar looks as if it’s slowly dissolving, flowing down like something dissipating in liquid. Starshine from a few bright stars within the clouds illuminate and highlight various nodes extending from the central pillars. Yet, despite all this, deep within each tower is a darkness that rivals the deepest reaches of the universe. Stars beyond the massive structure shine through the thinner layers like suns glimmering behind the smoke rising from a forest fire. The entire formation gives the appearance of something living, as if it’s some monstrous entity rolling its way through space.
Mike’s question didn’t go unheard; I’ve just forgotten about everything else, overawed by what I’m seeing. No one in the cockpit has moved an inch. The strange thing is, we’re breathing; so we can’t be truly drifting in space. It’s also not cold. If we were truly in the deep reaches of space, we’d be immediately frozen. There has to be something protecting this place, providing air. Or perhaps it’s all a mental projection? However, I am able to feel…I have sensations.
I pop open the canopy, continuing the shutdown of the helo. The rotors wind down to a stop, and I quickly check around, seeing BT standing a little distance away, staring at the sights surrounding us. Even though he’s been a hindrance whenever we’ve really needed to move, I’m glad to see he’s not a red smear across the platform we’re sitting on.
Unbuckling, I stare down through the clear flooring, holding back a sudden rush of vertigo. The helicopter is sitting on it without falling through, but I’m hesitant to put my boots down. It’s a dizzying sight with nothing under my boots but the universe below. Without a defined horizon, my brain is having a difficult time adjusting. Slowly, the reason we’re here pushes through the startling transition.
Scrambling out of the cockpit, Trip hops down to land on the clear pane. He immediately sits and pulls a blunt from the inside of his jacket. A cloud of smoke streams out after his first inhale, hanging in the air above his head as he stares across the vast reaches of the universe. For once, I think he has the right idea. Get stoned and take in the mesmerizing view. I doubt there’s a better perch for contemplating existence than where we are right now, and I wonder if this wasn’t its intent—a place for the Creator to admire their work.
Looking closer, from where the bands of light end at the edges of the platform, numerous thin trails of light streak across the darkness like headlights, most vanishing into the far reaches of space. Most are solid beams, but there are several which are flickering. One of them seems attached to the nearby galaxy, and it makes me wonder if it’s somehow also attached to the black hole that forms the glue holding the cluster together. From out of the center of the galaxy, I notice two steady lines reach out toward distant places along the outer spiraling arms.
BT slowly wanders in our direction, testing each step as if he fears he’ll fall through. I’m again surprised to see him alive and moving. The initial bounce of the helo must have shaken him free, but he seems remarkably none the worse for it. The portal we came through is still at the end of the platform, the bottom resting there. No wonder we bounced when we came through. If we had been descending, we’d have plowed right into the platform at speed. I’m guessing that the portal isn’t really optimized for entry via something airborne.
Mike climbs out of the cockpit, his expression as awestruck as I feel. The past fight and everything we’d done is pretty much forgotten upon our arrival and with the vista before us.
“I’m guessing we’re in the universe this iteration serves,” I say, finally getting around to answering Mike’s question.
“Yeah, but how…how are we even breathing, man? Shouldn’t our bodies be freezing or exploding or some shit?”
“I have no idea. The only thing that comes to mind is that this is a mental projection and that our bodies are, well, somewhere else. That might explain why BT is still walking. Or there’s some function of this control point that allows us to live that we don’t understand,” I reply.
“So, what now?” Mike asks, looking around.
I shrug. To be honest, if I could just sit here and watch the cosmos for an eternity, I’d be perfectly fine. A flash of light comes from one of the arms of the nearby galaxy, momentarily dimming the surrounding stars. As I watch, the brightness fades. Faintly, as if I can see it zoomed in, a blue ring rapidly expands.
The portal we flew through pulses brightly a few times and then vanishes in a blink. For all intents and purposes, we’re now stranded in space on this clear platform with its dimly pulsing lines of light. I wonder how we can enact the portal again. I look at the helo and ponder if some highly advanced civilization might someday spot it with some highly advanced telescope and wonder what in the hell a helicopter is doing floating in space. Of course, that’s assuming any lifeforms on the planets are able to even see this place. I randomly wonder if those beams aren’t part of the mysterious dark matter scientists were forever searching for.
At the same time the portal disappears, another flash of light appears from behind, highlighting the chopper and the backs of Mike, BT, and Trip. Where there was nothing now sits a large complex in the middle of the platform. A white wall s
urrounds the place, lit as if it has its own light source. Spires of crystal can be seen rising over the top of the wall, also shimmering as if they’re lit from within. Rising from the crystal pillars, beams of brighter light angle upward, connecting in the middle about two hundred feet in the air. The joined beams form a beacon both thicker and brighter than the ones extending into the universe. It ends at a small portal of white, several hundred feet higher. Standing here, I wonder if some near-deathers and those who described Heaven in the Bible somehow came through a portal.
“I guess we go there,” I reply to Mike’s question.
“What if the Overseers enact the portal again from the other end?” BT inquires.
“Then we’re probably screwed,” Mike answers.
I take stock of what we have. I have about a mag and a half of ammo for the carbine, my sidearm with a few extra mags, and Mike’s extremely dulled bayonet. He has about the same amount of ammo for his weapon. All of that seems rather miniscule, compared to the universe splayed around us. We have nothing that can kill or debilitate them. All we have is the ability to stun them—if we shoot them on the forehead between the eyes.