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with it.”
    “No,” Art says. “You have a greater destiny.”
    “I don’t care about—” I begin to snarl.
    “Life must continue,” Art interrupts. “We realized, billions of years ago, that this universe was doomed. The Demonata are
     stronger than those who populate our worlds. In time they’ll conquer all. We devoted ourselves to denying them that victory.
     We vowed to find a way to ensure life continued.”
    “I thought you said all things perish.”
    “Ultimately,” he replies. “This universe is a living thing, and it will die of old age eventually. But we can make sure that
     the end comes in its own time, not at the hands of the Demonata.
If
you help us.”
    I’m silent a long time. I can’t understand everything Art is talking about, but if he’s right… if there’s some way to thwart
     the plans of the Demonata…
    “How much farther do we have to go?” I ask.
    “Not far,” Art says. “Another day, perhaps, and we will reach the Crux.”
    “And you’ll tell me everything?” I press. “No more riddles or half-answers?”
    “Everything will be revealed,” Art promises. “After that you can stay or go as you please.”
    “Then I’ll come,” I sigh, and although my intentions are good, it feels like I’ve just sold my soul to the devil—or worse.

THE CRUX

    M ORE worlds and chambers. Pretty much all of the planets have fallen. They feel old and cold. Art says these were some of the
     earliest settled worlds, the first planets that the Old Creatures populated.
    “You’re like gods,” I mutter. “You spread life across the universe.”
    “We nurture life,” Art corrects me. “We don’t create it. We don’t know where the living things of this universe came from,
     how life was born out of fire and chaos. There are forces at work beyond even our knowledge.”
    “Then gods—or God—might be real?” I press.
    “Perhaps.”
    “What about an afterlife?” I ask. “Do you know what happens to our souls when we die?”
    “No,” Art says. “We will talk more about that later, but first…”
    We’re approaching a small window. We’ve been moving at a constant speed, but now Art slows.
    “We are almost at the Crux,” he says, and there’s a nervous edge to his voice. I feel the ball of light tighten around me.
    “What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously.
    “The Crux is a place of great danger,” he replies. “We cannot stay long, and I must cling tightly to you while we’re there,
     or you will be disintegrated.”
    “Hold on!” I yelp. “You never said anything about disintegration!”
    “I didn’t want to frighten you,” Art chuckles.
    I stare anxiously at the window, wondering if there’s anything I can do to stop this.
    “Don’t be afraid,” Art says. “I know what I’m doing.”
    “Wait!” I cry as we draw close. “Have you ever taken anyone like me into the Crux before?”
    Art hesitates, then says sheepishly, “No.”
    “Then how do you know—”
    Before I can finish, we smash through the window and I scream at the top of my lungs, as if riding the wildest roller coaster
     in the universe.
      As soon as we slip through the window, the temperature skyrockets. We’re gliding towards a massive orb of seething fire.
     This must be what the sun is like close up. The space around us throbs with magical energy. I sense Art tapping into that
     magic, using it to shield us from the unbelievable heat, glare, and radiation. I can’t imagine anything non-magical surviving
     here.
    We zip closer to the ball of fire. It shimmers savagely as I stare at it, awestruck and horrified. It doesn’t have a constant
     shape. The edges buckle and warp, bulge out, then twist back in on themselves. Pillars of flame shoot from the surface, spiral
     around the face of the orb, and are absorbed by it again. Sometimes it turns a blinding white shade. Other times it goes black
     and becomes almost invisible against the expanse of space around it. Most of the time