The designation echoed through the comms like a half-remembered poem: Katya Y111 Waterfall30 .
Aris stared at the waterfall—at the shimmering strands of alien thought flowing upward like inverted rain. “You’ve merged with it.” Katya Y111 Waterfall30
And then, silence.
“Yes,” he breathed.
“Aris. You came.”
He looked at his hands. They were beginning to glow faintly, the code of the waterfall threading through his veins like liquid starlight. The designation echoed through the comms like a