A thirty-day countdown to the end of the universe does a wonderful job of focusing the mind. The leisurely pace of their search for the "Wildflower" was officially over. Panic was now the main motivator. The bridge of the "Odyssey" became a whirlwind of frantic, desperate activity.
They had a deadline. A very firm, very final one. And they were no closer to figuring out how to stop the Gardener. Their enemy wasn't a fleet they could fight; it was a process, a slow and steady retuning of reality itself. Fighting it head-on was impossible.
"We need a new plan," Emma said, her voice strained. She had been awake for two days straight, running simulations and scenarios, and every single one of them ended with a silent, empty galaxy. "We can't fight the Gardener's rules. We need to find a way to operate outside of them."
It was Ryan who finally saw the answer. It had been staring them in the face the whole time.
