I entered the ruin to a low hum…
The snug fit of my arms in the portal vectors was no accident.
Once inserted an irreversible chain reaction commenced.
The stone and wood around me shifted into old form:
The screen before my face showed a small orange planet, turning in space.
The hieroglyphs overhead read Mine-Sweeper…
Thinking the words was enough to initiate the familiar
of passing solar systems.
Three light speeds later and the low hum again indicated arrival.
White-Glare flooded the craft.
“Welcome back, Agent Blonde. How goes it with Urantia?”
“Not good, Ma’am…”