The Light Beyond the Veil

In the year 2178, Earth was no longer the planet it once was. The oceans had receded, cities were buried beneath glass domes, and the sky — once blue and pure — shimmered with strange, pulsing veins of light. People called it The Veil. No one knew what caused it, only that it appeared after the Great Solar Collapse, when the sun dimmed for seven whole days.

Aiko Lirian, a 23-year-old data engineer, was among the few who dared to study it. Every night, she stood at the edge of the dome, watching the electric auroras ripple through the Veil. Some said it was the end of the world. Others believed it was the beginning of another. But Aiko had a personal reason to uncover the truth — her brother, Ren, had vanished into the Veil two years ago.

She could still remember his last words before he disappeared:

> “Aiko, don’t be afraid of the light. It’s trying to speak to us.”


The government had long forbidden any research into the Veil, labeling it unstable and lethal. But Aiko worked in the Central Archive, where hidden files were buried beneath terabytes of outdated code. That was where she found it — a classified folder named Project Seraphim.

Inside were images of people standing beneath the Veil, their bodies glowing faintly, their eyes empty. They weren’t dead. They were… suspended — as if caught between two worlds.

Aiko’s heart raced. She knew what she had to do.

Three nights later, she made her way out of the city through a maintenance tunnel. The air beyond the dome was cold and metallic, thick with static. She could feel her hair lifting with every pulse of the Veil’s light. It was both terrifying and beautiful — like staring at the edge of creation.

She activated her pulse scanner. The readings were off the charts. There was life energy — strong and rhythmic — coming from within the Veil. “Ren,” she whispered. “You’re in there, aren’t you?”

She reached out.

The moment her fingers brushed the glowing curtain, everything dissolved. The ground vanished beneath her feet, and a deep hum filled her ears. Then came silence.

When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t on Earth anymore.

Aiko stood in a meadow filled with silver grass, the sky painted in shifting colors — violet, gold, and crimson. Floating islands hovered above, and streams of light moved like living rivers through the air. She gasped, falling to her knees. “Where… am I?”

A soft voice answered behind her.

> “You’re where the world ends and begins.”


She turned — and froze. It was Ren.

He looked older, his skin faintly luminescent, his eyes reflecting the same pulsing light as the Veil. He smiled, a mix of sadness and peace. “You shouldn’t have come, Aiko.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I thought you were dead!”

“I’m not alive either,” he said gently. “This place — we call it The Liminal. It’s a bridge between realities. The Veil wasn’t meant to destroy the Earth. It was trying to merge it with this one. A new kind of world.”

Aiko shook her head. “But why you? Why take people away?”

Ren looked toward the glowing horizon. “Because humanity isn’t dying, Aiko. It’s evolving. The Veil chooses those who can adapt — who can understand both the digital and the spiritual. The others… they wouldn’t survive the transition.”

Aiko’s chest tightened. “Then let me stay. I can help you.”

He reached out and touched her hand — warm, almost human. “You can’t. Not yet. Earth still needs you. When the next Solar Pulse happens, the Veil will open again. You have to prepare them.”

Her heart broke. “I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he said softly. “Every light you see beyond the dome — that’s us. Watching. Guiding.”

The world around her began to tremble. The Veil’s light was folding in on itself. Ren smiled one last time.

> “When the light calls again, follow it. Don’t fear the unknown.”


Then, everything went white.

When Aiko awoke, she was back outside the dome, lying on the cold metal sand. Her scanner was fried, her suit cracked — but she was alive. In her palm, glowing faintly, was a fragment of crystal light. She knew it wasn’t a dream.

Back inside the city, she began decoding everything she remembered — Ren’s words, the energy patterns, the pulse frequency. Her research became known as The Seraphim Protocol. Slowly, she gathered believers — scientists, explorers, dreamers — who were ready to face the Veil when it opened again.
And on the eve of the second Solar Pulse, when the skies shimmered with radiant fire, Aiko stood at the dome’s edge once more.

> “We’re coming home, Ren,” she whispered.

The Veil rippled, answering with a soft hum — like a heartbeat echoing through the stars.