The Odyssey dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Creation Storm, and the universe immediately went mad.
It was not the gentle, swirling beauty of a normal nebula. This was a cosmic hurricane, a churning, violent storm of pure, raw reality. Giant, rainbow-colored clouds of energy clashed and exploded, sending out waves of shimmering light.
Rivers of what looked like liquid spacetime flowed between floating islands of crystal. It was the place where the universe was still being born, and it was loud, chaotic, and terrifyingly alive.
And it was angrier than the last time they had been here. The Cult's technology was agitating it, stirring it up like a giant, cosmic stick in a giant, cosmic hornet's nest.
"Hold on!" Scarlett yelled from the pilot's seat. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the controls.
