Fracture

We found him scattered somewhere between the Lotus One and Hyder gaps, fragments of him clinging to the edges of impossible geometry, a broken heart visibly mapped across shifting planes. He said his name was Jurzer, and that he had hoped we were from the mending layer.

Having just recently discovered crossing techniques at CERN, we were—at first—startled to find a man here at all, and even more so that he spoke English, and that he was crying. His tears seemed to ripple outward, brushing against strands of reality as if testing their fragility.

Subsequent voyages through countless dimensional gaps have taught us two constants across all known space, time, and space-time: intelligent flesh—diverse, mutable, sometimes unrecognizable—is ubiquitous, and relationships are a source of trouble.

We watched him for a while, wondering exactly what the mending layer was, and whether it would ever reach him.

He disappeared into the gaps, carrying the universal weight of connection and trouble, following a path only he could see — unseen but resolute.