Speaker 1: Calarogu Shark Media.
Speaker 2: Hello and welcome to Echoes of the Void, Episode six Threshold,
Part two.
Speaker 1: As awareness gradually returns, as our separate identities reassert themselves
while remaining connected, I feel a profound shift in our relationship.
What we've shared can never be undone, never be forgotten.
We have known each other in ways that defy the
limitations of physical reality. That Alexander's voice flows through our
shared space, colored with wonder and love, is what awaits
us after triangulation, not just physical reunion, but this perfect
communion of being. The thought fills me with both longing
and determination. Tomorrow night, I promise, will complete the triangulation,
make this permanent. But even as I make this vow,
I feel something dark pressing against the edges of our
shared consciousness, A coldness, a hunger that doesn't belong to
either of us. Alexander, I question, suddenly alarmed the entity.
He confirms his presence, tensing within me. It's found us,
found this connection. The pressure increases, a malevolent awareness pushing
against our shared space, seeking entry. I feel Alexander's consciousness shift,
moving to place himself between this intrusion and my awareness.
It's stronger than before, he warns, drawing power from both fragments,
the one bound with me and Sullivan's splinter in the stabilizer.
The crystal in my hand grows painfully cold. The candle
flames around the room, turn from gold to sickly green.
The air thickens with a presence that feels ancient and
utterly alien. Elise, say Morgan, A voice that is neither
mine nor Alexander slithers through our shared consciousness. How generous
of you to create this bridge for me, so much
easier than waiting for tomorrow's triangulation. Horror floods me as
I realize our mistake. The exchange ritual has created a
temporary pathway between dimensions one the entity is now attempting
to use for its own crossing. Don't let it in,
Alexander commands, his presence, expanding protective within me. Focus on
our resonance, only our resonance. I struggle to maintain that
focus as the entity presses harder its alien consciousness, probing
for weaknesses in our connection. It's stronger than I imagined,
more determined. Its hunger a palpable force. Sullivan betrays you
even now the entity hisses, his splinter and eye are
never truly separated. What one knows the other experiences, what
one sees the other can reach. The stabilizer grows colder,
still painful to touch, yet I can't seem to let
it go, my muscle's lock refusing my commands. I feel
Alexander fighting to maintain control of my body, to force
my fingers to release the crystal, but the entity's influence
is too strong. The exchange was his idea, The enterity,
he continues, its voice, a dark current beneath our thoughts,
A test, he said, to see if the stabilizer would
work as promised, but really to create this opportunity, this
weakness I could exploit. Don't listen. Alexander urges, It twists, truth,
creates doubt, But doubt is already blooming. Was Sullivan's advice
about the practice exchange a deliberate setup. Did Margaret inadvertently
play into his plan by suggesting we use it to
test the stabilizer. The entity seizes on this uncertainty, pressing
harder against our mental defenses. I feel Alexander's presence weakening
as he fights to hold it back, to protect my
consciousness from its invasion, Alexander, I called desperately. We need
to end the exchange, break the connection before it can
cross over. Yes, he agrees, his mental voice strained, but carefully.
If we separate too abruptly, it might capture part of
my consciousness in transition, or worse, replace me in your awareness.
The entity laughs, a sound like glass shattering inside my mind.
Too late for careful retreats, little humans, I am already
here with those words. Something pushes through our weakening defenses,
a tendril of alien consciousness, cold and hungry and ancient,
beyond comprehension. It slithers into our shared space, tasting, testing,
seeking purchase within my mind. Alexander reacts instantly, his presence
surging forward to intercept this intrusion. Elise the resonator, focus
on shutting it down. Through our shared vision, I see
the device on the nightstand, its components spinning rapidly, its
lights flashing in alarming patterns. I try to move toward it,
but my body feels impossibly heavy, as if gravity has
doubled around me. Allow me, Alexander says, gathering what strength
remains to him. With tremendous effort, he directs my arm
to reach for the resonator. My movements are jerky, fighting
against the entity's opposing influence, but inch by inch, my
hand extends toward the device. The entity howls in fury,
sending another surge of its consciousness through the breach. I
feel it twisting inside me, now seeking to supplant Alexander,
to corrupt our resonance. Hold on. Alexander gasps, his presence
flickering like a candle in a gale. Almost there, my
fingertips brush the resonators controlled. With one final push of will,
Alexander turns it counterclockwise. The device is humming, changes pitch
dropping lower, slower. The effect is immediate. The breach between
dimensions begins to close, the pathway narrowing. The entity screams
in rage, its presence forced back toward the void. No,
it howls, you cannot expel me. I am already part
of you now, Elise Morgan, a seed planted growing. Alexander's
consciousness surges one final time, gathering the last of his
strength to push the entity back through the closing breach.
Return to your prison, he commands. You will not have her,
not tonight, not ever. There's a sensation like reality, tearing,
like something being forcibly extracted from my mind. Pain lances
through me, physical and metaphys simultaneously. The entity's presence diminishes,
pulled back toward the void as the dimensional doorway shrinks
to nothing. But with it goes Alexander's consciousness as well,
our connection, too entangled to maintain through the forced separation.
I feel him being torn away, his presence fading rapidly.
Tomorrow night, his voice comes one last time, already distant, faint.
Be careful. It's stronger than we knew, more desperate Alexander.
I call after him, reaching with my mind, but there's
nothing to grasp. The breach is closed, the exchange is over.
I come back to myself alone in the bedroom, gasping, trembling.
The candles have extinguished themselves, leaving only moonlight streaming through
the windows. The resonator sits silent on the night stair,
and the anchor crystal's glow has dimmed to a faint pulse.
And in my hand, the midnight stabilizer burns cold as ice,
its pin points of light swirling in agitated patterns. The
door bursts open, and Margaret rushes in her face pale
with concern. Elise, what happened? The monitoring equipment went haywire,
and then everything just stopped. I tried to speak, but
can't find words for what we experienced, for the violation
of the entity's intrusion, for the terror of nearly losing
Alexander to its hunger. The entity, I finally manage it
used the stabilizer to follow our connection, tried to cross
over during the exchange. Margaret kneels beside me, examining the
midnight crystal, still clutched in my rigid fingers. With gentle pressure,
she helps me release it, placing it back on its
velvet cushion. Are you hurt, she asks, checking my pulse,
my pupils, not physically, I shudder, remembering the alien presence
squirming through my consciousness, seeking purchase in my mind. But
it said, it said, it left something behind, a seed.
Margaret's expression turns grave, a partial possession not uncommon in
forced crossings like this. She helps me to my feet,
supporting me when my legs threaten to buckle. We need
to perform a cleansing ritual immediately before any foothold it
established can strengthen the next few hours pass in a
blur of ritual activity. Margaret draws symbols of protection around
me in salt and herbs. She burns specific incenses, chants
in languages I don't recognize, places crystals at key points
on my body. The cleansing is exhausting, invasive in its
own way, but necessary. When it's finally complete near dawn,
she helps me to bed in one of the guest rooms,
not the master bedroom, which still radiates with residual energy
from the entity's attempted crossing. Will I be safe for
the triangulation, I ask, as she tucks blankets around me.
The question contains all my fears that the entity has
compromised me somehow, that I'll endanger Alexander when we attempt
to free him. Margaret's expression is complicated, concern warring with determination.
The cleansing was thorough. If any trace of the entity remains,
and I would sense it, She hesitates, But Elise, what
happened to night changes our approach. The entity is clearly
more powerful than we anticipated, more desperate to prevent the triangulation.
We can't delay. I insist, fighting against exhaustion. You've seen
how it's draining Alexander. If we wait, there might be
nothing left of him to save. I know, she sighs heavily,
But we need additional protection. The stabilizer alone isn't enough,
especially now that we know Sullivan designed it as a
conduit for the entity's influence. What more can we do?
The dark moon is tonight. Margaret stands, moving to the
window where the first gray light of dawn is appearing.
There's one possibility, a ritual my grandmother described in her
final journal. Dangerous but powerful. She turns back to me,
her expression resolute. It requires a blood sacrifice. I sit up,
despite my exhaustion. What kind of sacrifice? Nothing fatal, she
assures me quickly, But significant blood, freely given by someone
with a deep connection to liminal spaces, someone like you.
How would it help? It would create a barrier around
your consciousness during triangulation, Not just protection like the stabilizer offers,
but active defense, a shield the entity cannot penetrate. I
consider this briefly, then nod. Whatever it takes. I won't
let the entity win, not when we're so close. Margaret
squeezes my hand rest. Now you'll need your strength for tonight.
I'll prepare everything for both rituals. As she leaves, I
sink back against the pillows, every muscle aching my mind
raw from the entity's intrusion, but beneath the pain and
exhaustion burns a determination fiercer than ever before. The entity
showed its hand tonight, revealed how desperately it wants to
prevent the triangulation, which only confirms we're on the right path,
that we can succeed in freeing Alexander while keeping it bound.
I touched the key around my neck, seeking that connection
to Alexander across the void. It's faint, now weakened by
the forced separation of our exchange, but still present, still unbreakable.
Tonight I whisper to the dawning day, no matter what
it takes, no matter what I have to sacrifice. Tonight,
We've finish this. As sleep claims me, I feel a
phantom touch against my cheek, Alexander's consciousness reaching mine across
the diminished connection. Not words, not even clear images, but
a pulse of emotion, determination, warning, and beneath it all,
a love that transcends the boundaries between worlds. The entity
is waiting. Sullivan is watching the final battle for Alexander's
freedom and perhaps for reality itself begins at nightfall and
I Am Ready.
Speaker 3: Romance Weekly is a production of Calaroga Shark Media executive
producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Portions of this podcast
may have been created with the assistance of AI
Speaker 1: Calaroga Shark Media