Orion's Rise: From Zero to Hero in Two Worlds

Lines We Can't Uncross

The phone's constant buzzing had become white noise by now.

As meaningless as the patterns I'd been tracing in the textured ceiling since midnight. The sun was rising, whether I was ready for it or not.

The interface flickered every few minutes, numbers shifting in my peripheral vision. Monitoring. Always monitoring.

Another buzz.

Ben hadn't slept. The timestamps on his messages told that story clearly enough:

2:14 AM: *Dude. Check this out. Guy in Poland claimed he could move things with his mind back in 1988. Says he saw numbers too.*

3:27 AM: *What do the numbers look like exactly? Need details for my spreadsheet.*

3:42 AM: *Found some weird stuff about Brno's history. Like, WEIRD weird.*

4:15 AM: *Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Library. Emergency. When you wake up, come to the library.*

4:16 AM: *Not dead btw. Just figured something out.*

4:17 AM: *Unless I am dead and this is all a hallucination. Can hallucinations text?*

I should have been more worried about him. About all of this. But my brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton, heavy and useless after yesterday's... demonstration.

The word felt wrong. Like calling a tsunami some choppy waves.

My muscles ached in places I didn't know could ache. Apparently throwing rocks around with your mind was still exercise, somehow. The interface pulsed, numbers shifting from green to yellow and back. Warning me? Or just... existing?

"Orion?" Mom's voice carried through the door. "You alive in there?"

"Yeah." My voice came out rough. When was the last time I drank water? "Just tired."

"It's almost eleven. Are you sick?"

Shit. Eleven?

"No, I'm..." I sat up too fast, head spinning. "I'm good. Just... slept weird."

A pause. I could practically feel her concern radiating through the door.

"You've been acting strange lately." Her voice softer now. "Is everything okay? Is this about your father's call?"

My stomach clenched. Dad. I'd completely forgotten about his weekly check-in, lost in the chaos of... everything else.

"No, Mom. Everything's fine."

The lie tasted bitter. But what was I supposed to say? *Sorry, can't talk to Dad today, too busy discovering I have supernatural powers and maybe being watched by shadowy organizations?*

"If you're sure..." She didn't sound convinced. "I'm going to the store. Text if you need anything?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Her footsteps retreated. The front door opened and closed. And I was alone with the interface again.

My phone buzzed.

Ben: *You better not be dead.*

Ben: *Because if you're dead I'm going to look really stupid sitting here with all these books.*

Ben: *Also I may have had seven energy drinks.*

I groaned, pushing myself up. The room tilted slightly, the interface readings spiking before settling back to normal. Whatever "normal" meant now.

Me: *Not dead. Give me 30.*

Ben: *FINALLY. Hurry up. This is big.*

Me: *How big?*

Ben: *Remember when I thought I discovered time travel in 8th grade?*

Me: *You mean when you convinced yourself your calculator was sending you messages from the future?*

Ben: *Bigger than that.*

I stared at the message. Ben's "discoveries" usually landed somewhere between brilliant and disaster, with no middle ground. And after seven energy drinks...

The interface flickered again, but different this time. The numbers aligned with... something. A direction. East, maybe? The same pull I'd felt yesterday, but stronger now. More focused.

My phone lit up again.

Ben: *Also I think someone's watching me.*

Ben: *Like, not normal library watching.*

Ben: *The weird kind.*

The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with the interface.

*They're watching.*

The Guide's warning echoed in my head as I forced myself to stand. To move. To start the day like everything was normal.

But normal died yesterday in Ben's backyard.

And something told me we weren't getting it back.

Me: *Don't move. On my way.*

I yanked on the first hoodie I found, my wrinkled clothes from yesterday still clinging to my skin. The interface hummed, numbers steady now. Ready.

For what, I had no idea.

But Ben was waiting. And whatever he'd found... whatever was pulling me east... whatever was *watching*...

We were about to find out.

I just hoped we survived the answer.

---

The library smelled like old books and instant coffee.

I found Ben in the local history section, surrounded by what looked like half the archive. Books, newspapers, and printed webpages created a fortress around him.

His ginger hair was a chaotic mess, evidence of hours of anxious fidgeting.

'You look like you got into a fight with a tornado,' I said, slumping into the opposite chair."

"Sleep is for people who haven't discovered conspiracy theories about their best friend." He didn't even twitch at my arrival, still absorbed in his reading. His glasses were making a slow descent down his nose, and the bags under his eyes suggested he'd been losing battles with sleep for days.

"Seven energy drinks, Ben?"

"Eight now." He finally met my eyes, and the manic gleam there made me sink lower in my chair. "But that's not important. Look at this."

He shoved a book across the table. The interface flickered to life, numbers scrolling faster than usual. The pull I'd felt earlier grew stronger.

"What am I looking at?"

"These symbols." Ben's finger jabbed at a page of archaeological sketches. "The ones you said you've been seeing? They're all over the city. Or they were. Most of them got covered up during renovations, but they're there. Under everything."

I leaned closer. The drawings were rough, but... familiar. Too familiar.

"That's not possible." My mouth went dry. "I've never seen these before yesterday."

"Exactly." Ben's voice dropped to an excited whisper. "So how did they end up in your dreams?"

The interface pulsed, numbers shifting from green to yellow. A warning? Or recognition?

"There's more." Ben started pulling out papers like he was dealing cards. "Stories about people throughout history. People who could do things. Impossible things. And they all talk about seeing numbers, or lights, or-"

"Ben." I cut him off, glancing around. An old man browsing nearby was giving us strange looks. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"No one's listening." But he lowered his voice anyway. "I've been here for hours. Nobody comes to this section except Mrs. Peréz, and she's basically deaf."

As if on cue, the librarian walked past, giving Ben a fond smile. She'd known him since we were kids, back when the library was our favorite hiding spot during lunch.

"Besides." He pushed his glasses up. "This is important. Look."

He opened another book, this one newer. The interface readings spiked.

"City renovation plans from the 90s." Ben tapped a diagram. "They found all these tunnels under the old district. Officially, they were just drainage systems. But look at the symbols they found carved into the walls."

My heart stuttered. The same marks. The same patterns I'd been seeing in my dreams.

"That's..." I swallowed hard. "That's probably just a coincidence."

"Since when do you believe in coincidences?" Ben reached for his energy drink, but I moved it away. He didn't seem to notice. "And that's not even the weird part. Guess who funded the renovation project?"

"Who?"

"Voss Industries."

The name hit like a punch to the gut. Jared's father's company.

"That doesn't mean anything," I said, but my voice sounded weak even to me.

"Maybe not." Ben started gathering papers, shoving them into his backpack. "But there's only one way to find out."

"What are you doing?"

"We're going on a field trip." He stood up, swaying slightly. The energy drinks were probably the only thing keeping him upright. "I mapped out where all the symbols used to be. If we follow the pattern-"

"Ben." I grabbed his arm. "You need sleep. Real sleep. Not caffeine-induced hysteria."

"I'm fine." He shrugged me off. "This is important. You said it yourself - something's been pulling you east. Well, guess where the highest concentration of symbols was found?"

The interface hummed, numbers aligning like a compass pointing... east.

"This is crazy," I said, but I was already standing. Already following him toward the exit. Because he was right - this was important.

Even if I didn't want it to be.

"Probably." Ben grinned, that familiar mix of brilliance and terrible ideas lighting up his face. "But when has that ever stopped us?"

Mrs. Peréz waved as we left, probably happy to see Ben finally leaving after his all-night research binge. The Sunday afternoon sun hit us like a spotlight, making Ben squint behind his glasses.

"So." I fell into step beside him, trying to ignore the way the interface readings were getting stronger with each block we walked. "Where exactly are we going?"

"You'll see." He pulled out his phone, checking a map he'd made. Each mark probably corresponding to another piece of evidence, another connection I wasn't ready to face.

"That's not an answer."

"No." His grin turned slightly manic. "But it's an adventure."

I should have argued. Should have made him go home and sleep. Should have done anything except follow him deeper into the city, toward whatever was waiting for us.

But the interface was pulling me forward now. The numbers steady. Sure.

And Ben... Ben had that look. The one that meant he wouldn't stop until he found answers.

Were we ready for those answers? Well, we're about to find out.

---

The old district looked different on Sundays.

Tourists with cameras drifted between historic buildings, taking photos of architecture they'd forget by next week. A street musician played violin near the square, the music mixing with afternoon church bells.

And here we were, following ghost stories and interface readings.

"Left here." Ben checked his map again. His hands were shaking slightly - the energy drinks finally wearing off. "There should be markings on the corner of this building."

I touched the weathered stone, feeling rough patches where something had been carved away. The interface numbers shifted, steady green turning amber.

"Ben." My voice came out quieter than intended. "Maybe we should-"

"I know that tone." He didn't look up from his phone. "That's your 'let's think about this' tone. We're way past thinking."

"Are we? Because you haven't slept in thirty-two hours."

"Sleep is a social construct."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Your face doesn't make sense."

I had to smile despite everything. Even running on fumes, Ben was still... Ben.

The interface pulsed. The pull was stronger now, a constant pressure behind my ribs. Like a magnet trying to drag me forward.

A group of kids ran past, chasing a soccer ball. Their laughter echoed off ancient walls that held secrets neither of us understood.

"Here." Ben stopped at a narrow alley between two buildings. "This is it."

The interface readings spiked. Numbers scrolling faster than I could process.

"What exactly is 'it'?"

He dug through his backpack, pulling out a printout of an old photograph. The paper was creased from being folded and unfolded too many times.

"Look." He held it up next to the wall. "The symbols used to be here. And here. And-"

"I get it." I did get it. The interface was practically screaming now, overlay patterns matching the faded marks on the stones. "But what does it mean?"

Ben's excitement faltered for the first time. Exhaustion creeping through the caffeine haze.

"I don't know. But..." He gestured vaguely at my face. "The numbers. They're going crazy, right?"

I nodded.

"Then we're close." He started down the alley. "Come on."

The passage was narrow enough that we had to walk single file. Stone walls pressed in on both sides, blocking out most of the afternoon sun.

My phone buzzed. Mom checking in. I ignored it.

The interface readings kept climbing.

"Ben."

He stopped. Turned. The shadows made him look older somehow. More serious.

"We can go back," he said quietly. "If you want."

I almost said yes. Almost suggested we go home, sleep, pretend none of this was happening.

But the interface was humming now. A frequency I could feel in my teeth. In my bones.

"No." I took a breath. Felt the power shift under my skin. "We keep going."

His grin returned, tired but real.

"That's the spirit."

The alley opened into a small courtyard. Empty except for a few potted plants and a rusty bicycle.

The interface exploded with data.

"There." The word came out before I could stop it. My hand rising to point at...

At nothing. Just an old maintenance door set into the wall. Metal and rust and...

Symbols.

Faint. Almost invisible unless you knew what to look for. But there.

Ben was already pulling out his phone, comparing the markings to his research. But I didn't need to see his notes.

I knew. The interface knew.

"This is it." My voice sounded strange in my ears. "This is what we're looking for."

Ben looked at me. Really looked at me. Like he was trying to decide something.

"You sure?"

No. I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

But the power under my skin was singing. The interface overlay perfectly aligned with patterns in the metal.

And somewhere beyond that door...

"Only one way to find out." I reached for the handle.

Ben's hand caught my wrist.

"Hey." His voice was serious now. The manic energy gone. "Whatever's down there? We do this together. Okay?"

I looked at my best friend. At the guy who'd spent all night researching impossible things just because I needed answers.

"Together," I agreed.

The door opened with a sound like exhaling.

And as we stepped through, I realized something: we just crossed a line.

We just crossed a line. I pray we find our way back.

---

The maintenance door opened to a set of stairs. Just stone steps, worn down in the middle from who knows how many feet over who knows how many years. My interface readings cast everything in an eerie green glow, making the walls look like they were underwater.

I watched Ben's flashlight beam cut through the darkness ahead of us. He was quiet now - that manic energy from earlier completely gone.

"Well," he said softly, "this is officially the creepiest thing we've ever done."

"What about Fleming House?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The interface readings were... intense down here. Like they were pressing against my skull.

"That was just some old house," Ben muttered. His light traced along the ancient brickwork. "This is different."

The interface numbers weren't just in my vision anymore - they felt like they were vibrating through my whole body. A constant hum under my skin that got stronger the further down we went.

Our footsteps bounced off the walls. God, everything felt so close down here. So old.

Ben's light caught something on the wall - more of those symbols. These ones looked newer than the ones we'd seen above.

"Are these the same ones?" he asked. "From your dreams?"

"Yeah," I said, running my fingers over one of the carvings. The stone was freezing, but the symbol itself... it felt warm somehow. "Exactly the same."

Water was dripping somewhere ahead of us. In the silence, it sounded impossibly loud.

"Hey," Ben said, "any idea how deep this goes?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't, really. The interface readings were practically dragging me forward now. Like following a radio signal that kept getting clearer.

The stairs finally ended in a tunnel. Ben had to duck his head a little to avoid hitting the ceiling.

"This doesn't make sense," he whispered. "None of the modern maps show anything like this. How did nobody ever find it?"

"Maybe nobody was trying to find it," I said. The words felt strange in my mouth, like they weren't quite mine.

Ben turned his light on me. Even with his glasses all smudged up, I could see the worry in his eyes.

"Is it the interface?" he asked.

"It's weird down here." I tried to explain it, but how do you describe something you barely understand yourself? "It's like... like it's picking up on something."

"Something like what?"

I never got to answer. The tunnel opened up into... into...

The chamber was huge. The brick and stone walls disappeared somewhere up in the darkness above us. Interface readings exploded across my vision - so many numbers and patterns I could barely see anything else.

But there was no missing what waited for us in the center of the room.

"Holy shit," Ben breathed, his light finding it the same time I did. "Is that..."

An archway rose up from the floor. The stone seemed wrong somehow, like it was bending the darkness around it. And in the middle...

"It's a portal." My voice came out barely above a whisper.

The surface inside the arch moved like nothing I'd ever seen before. Like someone had liquified the night sky. It hurt to look at it too long. The interface readings lined up perfectly with the edges, like they'd been waiting for this.

Ben moved closer, all his exhaustion forgotten in an instant.

"This is... the energy readings must be insane. Do you know what this means for physics? For..."

I could barely hear him. The power humming under my skin was reaching out to whatever was beyond that doorway. Like they recognized each other.

"We should-" Ben turned back to me. "Orion?"

I moved toward the portal. Not because I wanted to. Because I had to.

"Hey." Ben grabbed my arm. "Slow down. We need to think about this."

"It's all connected," I said, still staring at that impossible surface. "My powers, everything that's happening. I can feel it."

"I get that, but..." He looked between me and the portal. "We have no idea what this thing is. Where it goes. This could be really bad."

He wasn't wrong. Of course he wasn't wrong.

But the interface was screaming now. Everything in me was being pulled toward whatever waited on the other side of that doorway.

I turned to look at him - my best friend, the guy who'd followed me into this insanity without even hesitating.

"I have to know," I said quietly. "But you don't have to come."

Ben stared at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head, giving me that tired smile I knew so well.

"Like I'm gonna let you do this alone."

The portal's light cast weird shadows on the ancient stones around us. The interface readings had gone steady, like they were waiting.

We stepped forward together.

Whatever was on the other side of that doorway... whatever answers were waiting for us...

At least we'd find out together.