Shadows of the self

The air in the other world was thick and heavy, making it hard for Maya to breathe. Every inhale felt like swallowing fog. She glanced at Leon, who seemed unaffected, moving with a quiet confidence as though he had crossed between dimensions a hundred times. Maya, on the other hand, struggled to shake off the vertigo that clung to her since stepping through the portal.

"Stay close," Leon said, his voice low but steady as he led her away from the shimmering remnants of the gate. The light behind them flickered once before fading, leaving them completely immersed in the alien world.

Maya had expected something different, something fantastical. But this place, this version of the world, felt more like a twisted reflection. It was similar enough to be recognizable, but warped in all the ways that set her on edge. The landscape was barren and jagged, the sky hung with streaks of purple and blue that pulsed like a slow heartbeat. Tall spires of dark rock loomed in the distance, their surfaces reflecting a dull metallic sheen, while strange plants with glassy leaves shivered without wind.

It was a version of Earth, but not one she knew.

"Where are we?" Maya asked, her voice hoarse.

"This is one of the closer parallels," Leon replied, scanning the horizon. "It's not entirely unlike your world, but the further you go from the center—" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing at something in the distance. "—the stranger things become. Time, space… even reality itself, bends here."

Maya shivered despite the oppressive heat. "How far have we traveled?"

"Far enough," Leon said without elaborating. "But it's not the distance that matters. It's the version of the multiverse we're in. Think of each world like a mirror, reflecting a slightly altered version of another. The further you go, the more distorted the reflection. This one," he gestured at the strange landscape around them, "is one of the earlier ones—still close enough to reality to feel familiar."

"Familiar?" Maya repeated, skepticism clear in her voice. "This doesn't feel familiar at all."

Leon gave her a sideways glance. "You'll get used to it. I did."

They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps crunching over the dry, cracked earth. Every so often, Maya's eyes would catch on something—a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision, a shadow that darted just out of sight. But when she turned her head, there was nothing there.

The oppressive silence weighed on her. "Why did you leave your world?" she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What happened on the other side?"

Leon didn't respond immediately. He kept walking, his gaze fixed ahead. For a moment, Maya thought he might ignore the question, but then he spoke, his voice distant.

"It wasn't a choice," he said quietly. "Not at first. The version of Earth I came from—let's just say things went wrong. We were experimenting with the multiverse, just like your team was. But we pushed too far. Our world wasn't ready for what came through the rift."

Maya felt a chill creep down her spine. "What happened?"

Leon's jaw tightened. "There was… an incursion. Like the one you experienced, but on a larger scale. Entire cities were affected. People were replaced by their counterparts from other dimensions, some of them merging with their doubles in ways that shouldn't have been possible."

Maya's mind reeled at the thought. "Merged? Like… physically?"

Leon nodded grimly. "Not just physically. Psychologically, too. The boundaries between selves blurred. Some people went mad, unable to reconcile the differences between who they were and who they had become. Others… well, others became something else entirely."

Maya swallowed hard, imagining the horror of what he described. It was worse than she had feared. "Is that what happened to my reflection? The version of me that crossed over?"

Leon's eyes darkened. "Possibly. The version of you that came through the rift may not have been fully you. Sometimes, when people cross between worlds, they change. They adapt to the new reality in ways that aren't always predictable."

Maya felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. "So, you think she's out here? Somewhere in this world?"

Leon gave her a sharp look. "She might be. Or she could have moved on, traveling deeper into the multiverse."

Maya's pulse quickened. The idea of her doppelgänger—a twisted, altered version of herself—wandering freely through the multiverse terrified her. What if she was looking for a way back to Maya's world? What if she was trying to replace her?

Before she could voice her fears, Leon stopped abruptly. They had reached the edge of a wide chasm that stretched out in both directions, disappearing into the horizon. At the bottom, far below, Maya could see a river of molten rock flowing sluggishly, its surface bubbling with dark energy.

"Here," Leon said, pointing across the chasm.

Maya squinted, trying to make out what he was indicating. On the opposite side, barely visible through the haze, was a structure—a massive, towering building made of dark stone and metal. Its silhouette was sharp and angular, like a fortress carved from the bones of the earth.

"What is that?" Maya asked, her heart pounding.

"That's where we'll find answers," Leon replied. "It's an outpost, left behind by those who've studied the multiverse for centuries. It's abandoned now, but there are records there—maps, documents, experiments. If we're going to figure out what your double is planning, that's where we need to go."

Maya's gaze drifted to the chasm separating them from the outpost. The only way across appeared to be a narrow, rusted bridge that spanned the gap, swaying precariously in the wind.

"That doesn't look safe," she muttered, eyeing the bridge with suspicion.

"It's the only way across," Leon said, already moving toward it. "Stay close and don't look down."

Maya hesitated for a moment, her feet rooted to the ground as the wind picked up. But then she steeled herself and followed Leon onto the bridge. Every step felt like it could be her last—the planks creaked and groaned under her weight, and the entire structure swayed alarmingly with each gust of wind. But Leon moved with the same calm determination, and Maya forced herself to match his pace.

Halfway across the bridge, the vertigo returned with a vengeance. Maya gripped the rusted handrail tightly, her knuckles white, as she fought the urge to look down at the churning lava below. For a moment, she thought she saw something moving in the molten river—a shadowy figure slithering beneath the surface—but when she blinked, it was gone.

"Almost there," Leon said over his shoulder, his voice steady.

Maya nodded, though her throat felt too tight to speak.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the other side. Maya stepped off the bridge with a deep sigh of relief, her legs trembling slightly from the tension.

Leon was already moving toward the outpost, his eyes scanning the structure for any signs of life. Maya followed him, her thoughts spinning as she tried to process everything that had happened so far.

As they approached the massive doors of the outpost, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over Maya. She had never been to this world before, never seen this place. Yet somehow, it felt familiar, as though she had been here in another life.

Leon reached out and pushed the door open with a creak. "Welcome to the edge of the multiverse," he said quietly.

And as they stepped inside, Maya knew that whatever answers they found here, they would come at a price.