Marvel Magic Case Files

Captain Miller peered out through his shattered space helmet, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Equally disoriented, Dr. Peters was held tightly in his arms as the other crew members frantically pulled them out of the crushed hibernation pods on the Event Horizon. The violent impact had left him quite disoriented; he couldn't remember anything that had happened after the shock, and all his actions, including protecting Dr. Peters, were based on his subconscious—until he realized the crew weren't wearing helmets and were trying to remove his. The acrid stench of the air filled his nostrils, and he finally regained his senses—"No!" he cried, "No!"

"It's alright, Miller," said First Officer Stark, the young, beautiful blonde girl with a ponytail. "The ship's power has been restored, and we have oxygen. I'm glad the ship's airtightness is still intact; I can't believe a spaceship that's been in space for years without maintenance wasn't destroyed by a micrometeorite."

"Report the situation." Miller stood up, and the others helped him take off his spacesuit.

"Seven minutes have passed since the impact, Miller." First Mate Stark shook his head. "The Lewis and Clark have been compromised, and the remaining oxygen will only last for twenty minutes. Both ships' communication systems are severely damaged, and we cannot contact the outside world, not even... not even that ship."

"Repair our ship," Captain Miller immediately ordered. "We can't rely entirely on the Event Horizon. Cooper..."

“I can do it. But you need to check on Justin; something’s wrong with him.” Lieutenant Cooper’s eyes showed fear. “I pulled Justin back, and DJ (the medic) is checking on him now. Dr. Peters is fine; you’ve protected her well. As for Justin… I saw the hyperspace engine open, and it turned into a puddle of water in the middle. Justin was sucked into that puddle, and now he’s in a terrible state.”

"What do you mean?"

"He's not responding to anything," Lieutenant Cooper said worriedly. "He's like a vegetable."

“That’s impossible, that thing can’t be opened.” Dr. Will looked up from the control panel. Just minutes ago he was trying to repair the Event Horizon’s navigation log that Captain Miller had received, and he only seemed willing to speak when Lieutenant Cooper mentioned the hyperspace engine. “That thing is a complete technological black box. The military has tried many methods to open it, but all have failed. Nobody can open the hyperspace engine that Dr. Wendy Lawson built.”

"What do you mean?" Lieutenant Cooper frowned, speaking bluntly. "Justin is in this state now, and you still want to deny it? Tell me, Will, only you know what that thing is! If you want to continue hiding it..."

"I'm just telling you, the outer shell of the hyperspace engine can't be opened! It's a technology we can't understand yet; even the materials can't be replicated." Dr. Will glanced at him and reiterated, "Whatever Justin encountered can be explained. Perhaps the unusual gravity near the hyperspace engine caused you to hallucinate..."

"Shut up! Both of you!"

Captain Miller took the drinking water from the first mate and leaned back in his seat on the center console. The moment he regained consciousness, he began to think—everything they had experienced, from entering the fog to the impact of the Event Horizon, had an eerie quality. Even the unusual agitation of the crew while trapped in the fog, the intense emotions they had to suppress with medication—none of it was normal. He struggled to maintain the first principle of survival in space travel: calmness. "This is not the time to argue," he said. "Dr. Will, I don't think Cooper is lying. Dr. Peters…"

"I'm fine, thank you." Dr. Peters nodded gratefully.

"I need you to check the navigation logs." Captain Miller took the hard drive from his removed spacesuit. "And help DJ, Justin needs looking after. Dr. Will, let's go check the engine room now."

------

The shockwave released when the hyperspace engine activated wasn't confined to Neptune's orbit; the psionic mist also collapsed due to the impact, allowing the Retribution to escape its final, seemingly endless trajectory of extending into the time maze. This impact also provided solid evidence for the study of the psionic mist. Master Wang believes that the psionic mist weakened the reality barrier to some extent, causing a non-physical time error between the Retribution and the Lewis and Clark—a physical error, as described by relativity, refers to the time difference between two objects traveling at different speeds—this non-physical time error caused by the psionic mist does not conform to mathematical laws.

Their radio communications may never have reached the Lewis and Clark, or they may have arrived before being sent. The psionic shock that rescued the Punisher was an extradimensional thought storm that happened to shatter the carefully crafted trap. He believed the Lewis and Clark might be able to detect the Punisher's location, but the location they detected was not the Punisher's current coordinates. Both the Punisher and the Lewis and Clark passed through the psionic fog. Due to the chaotic time difference within the psionic fog, their positions on the timeline of this universe differed, and because of the weakened reality there, the physical laws of the material universe could not actively correct this discrepancy.

In other words, by the time the Retribution probes detected Lewis and Clark and sent signals, the latter had already gone through many geostationary cycles. This is why the Retribution probes could never catch up with Lewis and Clark; they were merely chasing a phantom of time. The Lewis and Clark they see today may not even be what they are in now. Nevertheless, they can still obtain a great deal of information.

The Retribution rover's technical sage analyzed and processed the scanned information from Neptune's orbit, transmitting it to the holographic strategic command system. The strategic command system's processor stored fundamental data on Lewis and Clark; this device knew every support structure, every piece of skin, every cable and pipe. When the holographic projection of Lewis and Clark presented a dilapidated image, the processor had already assessed its damage.

"This ship suffered unimaginable violent damage, with signs of rudimentary repairs to its outer armor. Airtightness assessment index: 78. Exposed hull piping makes it unsuitable for atmospheric reentry flight and also unsuitable for protection against micrometeoroids. Flight safety assessment: 62." The Tech Sage extended a slender steel finger, housing data interfaces and receivers, pointing at the holographic projection. He pointed to a red dot on the holographic projection and said, "Analysis result number 32 indicates that the source of the impact was likely the engine room at the stern of the Event Horizon. The Lewis and Clark is fully repairable, with a repair cycle of approximately 16 Earth standard hours."

"Life signal?"

"No life signals were detected, so we cannot guarantee the existence of survivors on the Lewis and Clark," the Tech Sage said. "We have detected rising psionic and life signals from the Event Horizon again, and the unusual gravitational wave signals are also noteworthy. There is reason to believe that the Event Horizon's hyperspace engine has restarted. Mathematically, the overall accuracy of this intelligence is 86.6%. We cannot rule out the possibility that this is an anomaly caused by the real universe correcting time; our understanding of this universe is still too limited."

The commander of the Imperial Guards looked at the emperor, and then the emperor nodded.

"Understood. Proceed with boarding preparations." Constantine ignored Tita's angry glare and said to the Tech Sage, "We will board the Event Horizon. Even though Dr. Will is dead, we must find out the situation on that ship."

-------

"I stand by my conclusion," Dr. Weil said, arms crossed.

As gravity and temperature returned to normal, the previously condensed cooling pool liquefied again. The hyperspace engine standing atop the cooling pool, and the bronze sphere covered in strange symbols, appeared unusually calm, showing no signs of activation. The black pool of water Cooper mentioned seemed more like a description of the cooling pool.

"This engine works by creating a miniature black hole. Abnormal gravity can affect the brain, which may be why Justin fell into a coma." Dr. Will pointed to his ear. "Like motion sickness or seasickness, abnormal gravity can affect the semicircular canals and blood flow to the brain. Justin may have been impacted, and there may have been congestion in certain areas of his brain. Lieutenant Cooper may also have been affected."

"Stark?" Captain Miller asked.

"This thing is dangerous." The first mate cautiously surveyed the spherical engine room, the strange atmosphere making her extremely uncomfortable. This blonde girl was undoubtedly the calmest person besides Captain Miller, and one of his most trusted lieutenants, the other being Cooper, who had served alongside Captain Miller. "Regardless, this ship's energy depends on the engine room. The conventional propulsion systems need maintenance, otherwise the ship simply won't start, and the cockpit batteries need recharging. We can't completely rely on Cooper to repair the Lewis and Clark and have the Event Horizon take us and the Lewis and Clark back to Earth; that's highly unrealistic. I have reservations, Miller; it's for our own good."

"I understand. Close this place. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." Captain Miller nodded. "Until we figure out what caused Justin's condition, we need to stay away from it. Dr. Will, do you understand?"

Dr. Will nodded.

He stared at the slowly rotating hyperspace engine, the circular light reflecting in his gray eyes, concealing his obsession with the device.

"Hurry up." Miller's voice pulled him back to reality. "If we want to bring this ship back."

After a brief rest, all the crew members resumed their work. Fortunately, almost no one had been seriously injured in the impact, and the tasks of medic DJ and Dr. Peters were not too demanding. The existing equipment was barely sufficient to examine Justin, who was in a vegetative state; they could only wait for Justin to awaken on his own. Medic DJ told Dr. Peters that the ship's medical room had an unusually large number of anatomical tools.

"We don't know why they prepared so many dissection tools," DJ shrugged. "But it's to our advantage. I've already collected the body parts, and now all we need to do is scrape the flesh off the wall to see if they're all here. I suspect some of the flesh is animal, since animal experiments are conducted on spaceships."

Major DJ was referring to the crew of the Event Horizon, which made Dr. Peters feel nauseous.

"I can take care of Justin," he said. "You just need to look at those voyage logs, okay?"

"I'm a doctor too."

"You're the medical technician, and I'm the medical officer. To be precise, you're my subordinate, and you're in charge of mental health," Major DJ said with a laugh. "It doesn't matter; I'm just doing something pointless anyway. What good would it do to piece those bodies together here? Even if it proves someone is missing, there's nothing we can do. We can only hope that this ship, or the Lewis and Clark, can be repaired. I've never been so eager to get back to Earth."

Dr. Peters had no choice but to accept this suggestion, which didn't sound like one at all, and sat in the clean medical room reviewing a portion of the voyage log on her computer—something almost every crew member without work had to do. She didn't know how much time had passed when she heard a strange sound—every second on this ship felt unbearable, even the normally pleasant smell of disinfectant had become pungent, and she wasn't sure if it was from the pile of crew members' remains nearby—that figure jolted her from her mechanical work. Dr. Peters looked up alertly and grabbed a bone saw from the workbench beside her. She realized the strange sound sounded like someone rubbing fabric, and that fabric was draped over the medical bed not far away.

She slowly walked over and suddenly pulled back the blue-green surgical fabric.

She saw her son, the thin, pale boy confined to a wheelchair. She saw him turn to look at her, his bony legs exposed to the air, his skin covered in sores. She heard him say something to her, and then a wave of overwhelming guilt washed over her, robbing her of the last breath of reason. She remembered twenty years ago, when she was a girl playing on the beach and accidentally drowning—that suffocating feeling, both mental and physical, swallowed her whole.

She curled up into a ball, letting out a wail from her throat.

"Peters!" Major DJ slapped her shoulder, relieving her of the suffocating feeling. When Dr. Peters looked again at the medical bed through teary eyes, she realized it was just the crew members' body parts that Major DJ had collected. "What happened, Peters?"

"I...I don't know." Dr. Peters quickly wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. Even now, her hands and feet still felt cold. "What I saw...it was nothing, probably a hallucination. I'm so tired...that must be it, that's for sure."