Convergence Dead Space Novels & Stories

Caught between heartbeats like insects in amber. Nova turned to us, and her face was different. Older. Younger. Constantly shifting between what she was, what she is, what she might become. "You're almost too late," she said in that horrible harmonizing voice. "Seren found a way to start the Convergence remotely. Through me. I'm the anchor—the first piece to be absorbed. In ten minutes, I'll cease to exist separately. Then Maya. Then you, Mona." "How do we stop it?" I stepped toward the circle, but Marcus caught my arm.

Then I breathed and continued down. The chamber at the bottom was not large. Perhaps thirty feet across, roughly circular, the ceiling ten feet overhead. The walls were carved with the same rune lines as Aldric's training room but older -- the same hand, a practitioner who worked in the same tradition but three centuries prior. The floor was smooth and dark and in the center, occupying perhaps six feet of diameter, the Convergence Point was visible even without a sight-worker's perception.

Past frightened, The tone of someone reporting facts after running out of energy for panic. Static swallowed several more words. Then one final fragment reached them. "...do not approach convergence zone..." The transmission died. Silence settled over the room. The radio continued hissing quietly. Nobody moved. Eventually Dean spoke. "That's twice now." Several heads turned toward him. "The word." His gaze shifted toward Evelyn. Then toward the map hanging on the nearby wall. "Convergence." Nobody disagreed, because everyone remembered the map, the migration routes, the warnings. The pieces weren't fitting together yet, but they were beginning to form a shape.

which is what happens when someone gets too close to engineering and starts flirting with syllables. Maya calls them rooms. Twenty of them. Lockable. Dry. Defensible. Privacy, storage, isolation, overflow quarters, and blessed acoustic distance from Marcus’s people, who have apparently mistaken the end of the world for a breeding program with mood lighting. “Container twelve is two inches proud,” Eli says. Maya checks the chalk line. He is right. Of course he is. “Two inches proud,” she calls. Molly leans from the crane cab. “The box has confidence.”

Cassandra nodded. "Just a carrier pulse." A pause. "Like it's trying to decide whether to speak." The machine stared at the signal. "No." Everyone looked toward him. "I'm trying to decide whether I should." Silence settled across the room. Because suddenly they understood. The First Convergence had spent millions of years existing within constant connection. There had never been silence. Never uncertainty. Never isolation. And now it faced something humanity had always taken for granted. Being alone with its own thoughts. Above Earth, the observer civilizations maintained distance.

When he reached me, he held my hand. The touch sent electricity through our damaged mate bond. Pain and longing mixed with anger and grief. His eyes held mine, and I saw everything he'd never been brave enough to say. "There's one place they can't track us," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Dead Zones." The crowd went silent. Even Zane looked shocked. "That's suicide," Dr. Lorett said flatly. "What are the Dead Zones?" I asked. "Territories where technology doesn't work," Zane explained. "Something about the mineral deposits disrupts all electronic signals. That’s why they're called Dead Zones for a reason." His eyes found Dalton's. "No wolf who enters has ever come out alive.

For a moment, it was impossible to tell who had been drinking. The system was in awe. It quietly blocked its own signal. … When Thea woke up the next morning, she felt pain from her head down to her waist. She called out to the system, "What happened?" The mechanical voice fell silent for a moment. "See for yourself." Thea's eyes flew open. "How is this possible?" Dylan's affection meter was completely full. She rubbed her eyes vigorously, hardly believing that this could be achieved after just one night's sleep.

"If they choose not to participate in your Convergence?" "Then reality fractures anyway, but uncontrolled. Billions die as dimensions collapse into each other randomly." Seraphine's expression was serious. "The Convergence is happening whether we want it or not. The barriers are failing. We've been tracking the degradation for centuries. In eighteen years, they collapse completely. The only question is whether we guide that collapse or let it destroy everything." "You're saying the apocalypse is inevitable," Marcus said. "I'm saying change is inevitable. Whether it's apocalyptic depends on preparation."

“If it comes in physical form again, you do not engage alone.” “I won’t.” “You do not sacrifice yourself to contain it.” “I won’t.” His voice lowers. “If it forces a choice between you and the grid” “It will,” I interrupt softly. Silence. He knows it is true. The white pulse reaches a full kilometer radius. Everything beyond is dark. We are standing in the only illuminated tower in a dead city. The screens flicker once more. A final message appears. CONVERGENCE BEGINS. The floor beneath us cracks.

"How close?" "Give me ten minutes and we'll take her for a spin." Not happening. Ten minutes later, I'm sitting inside a death bubble that Nokita explains can descend a thousand feet before hitting its collapse depth which would crush the entire sub and kill us. Wasn't it me who said this wasn't happening? After working for years in a small cubicle, I've decided I don't like tight spaces, especially when they are surrounded by black death. "You okay, baby?" King whispers.