Chapter 2.

The commander gave a short wave of his hand.

"Move out."

The cargo platforms began moving toward the portal one by one, and George's unit took their positions around the column. Through the rupture in space, the clear blue sky of another world was already visible, and as George approached it, he involuntarily lingered his gaze on that blueness—a sight almost unreal for an inhabitant of the Null Plane.

No matter how much physicists tried to explain the nature of the planes, or philosophers the origin of the Kharakternyks, for George, there was still something incomprehensible about the very existence of such a passage. On one side—a cold orbital station above a slowly dying Earth, and just a few steps away—another world with its own sky, oceans, cities, and billions of people who, until recently, had no idea the Null Plane even existed.

The transition lasted only a moment. George had long grown accustomed to the brief sensation of cold that always accompanied crossing the boundary between planes, but his body still shivered involuntarily. Another step, and the cold air of the orbital station was left behind.

The first thing he felt was the warmth. The air here was humid and surprisingly light, filled with the scents of grass, sun-warmed earth, and something else for which George couldn't even find a name. On the Null Plane, such scents could only be experienced under the protective domes of nature complexes, where every patch of living earth was maintained by dozens of complex systems.

George slowly removed his helmet. He did this every time he had the chance. A huge transport complex stretched out before him, but his gaze almost immediately drifted past the concrete platforms and hangars. On the horizon, dark forests loomed, ribbons of rivers glinted between them, and far in the distance rose a mountain range whose peaks were lost among white clouds.

But what impressed him most, as always, was the sky. Clear, deep, and endless, it made George forget, at least for a few seconds, why he had come here. On the Null Plane, several generations had known the true color of Earth's sky mostly from old photographs and recordings made before the Great Ash.

Here, all of this was an ordinary part of life. A light wind swayed the treetops, unfamiliar birds circled above the grass, and somewhere nearby, the sound of children's laughter could be heard. It came from a small park beyond the complex's fence, where several children were chasing each other, paying no attention to the soldiers who had just arrived from another world.

George couldn't help but smile. Every time he was here, he thought that this was what their Earth could have remained like, if people hadn't once turned it into the battlefield of the last great war. Without the endless city-roads, shielded from the dead cold and ash, without the constant fear of new earthquakes, any of which could one day bury thousands of people.

Viktor stopped beside him. He too had taken off his helmet and stood for a few seconds, silently inhaling the warm air.

"You know..." he finally said. "I feel like a tourist every time we're here."

George laughed.

"And I feel like a savage."

"Why?"

"Because I still can't stop staring at the trees."

Viktor smiled and nodded. He needed no explanation. On the Null Plane, real trees had long become a rarity. Green zones existed under protective domes or inside multi-level nature complexes, where each plant was tended to almost as carefully as a museum exhibit once was. Here, forests stretched to the very horizon, and it never occurred to anyone to consider them something unusual.

This was precisely why George loved such missions. They reminded him of what the people of the Null Plane were still fighting for. Not for new territories or weapons, but for the chance to one day stop counting how many centuries their planet had left.

The commander waved his hand again, bringing everyone back to the task.

"Don't get comfortable. Five hundred meters to the transport platform. We need to hand over the cargo in ten minutes."

George put on his helmet, lowered the visor, and followed his squad.

The transport platform was located a few hundred meters from the warehouse complex. The unit walked along a wide road that cut through a huge logistics center. On both sides, a continuous stream of cargo platforms moved, automated loaders transported containers, and dozens of workers in light-colored overalls went about their business. No one paid much attention to the armed soldiers. Over the years of cooperation, the appearance of Kharakternyks and units from the Null Plane had become almost as routine for the locals as the arrival of another transport ship.

George walked slightly behind the commander, mechanically scanning the area. Military habit made him note the layout of buildings, possible cover, and escape routes, but this time his gaze kept returning to the city that began just beyond the transport hub.

Gleaming buildings rose above the treetops, their wide glass facades reflecting the sunlight. Passenger platforms glided silently between them, and high in the sky, an orbital elevator ascended. Its thin, silvery thread disappeared among the clouds, connecting the planet's surface with orbital stations that faintly shimmered in the blue.