“All we have to do is make contact,” Zethar explained. “If our hands are able to transmit sensation without crashing the portal, it’s possible one of us could pass through to the other dimension. It’s possible we could…”


    “Be together,” Isolde said, finishing the sentence.


    Zethar nodded.


    “How can you be certain it’s safe?” she asked.


    “Frankly, I can’t,” he said. “But I’ve mapped out all the predicted outcomes. Scenario one is the best case scenario I just described. Another is that the portal blocks us or repels us from touching. If that happens the risks should be minimal. The anomaly could become unstable but I don’t expect either of us would be harmed. Same goes if we touch and it malfunctions completely. Not ideal, but minimal risk of physical harm to our persons.”


    “Is there a worst case scenario?”


    “Worst case, we break the whole thing,” he said. “But for at least one beautiful moment, I get to know what it feels like to hold your hand.”


    “Oh Zethar, do you really think it’s possible?” Isolde said. “How do we do it?”


    “Can you come closer?”


    “I can.”


    “Me too,” Zethar said, approaching the portal window. The stabilizer devices had done their job, steadying the energy to let her come through more clearly. To see her—her face, her true form—was the culmination of every revolution he’d spent chasing cosmic improbabilities.


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    “We’re close enough to touch now,” Isolde said. “Are you ready?”


    Zethar steadied himself and nodded again.


    “I’ll count down,” he said. “And Isolde?”


    “Yes, Zethar?”


    “Whatever happens now, it was all worth it to me.”


    “I couldn’t agree more,” she said, her voice steady, though her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve. Her weight shifted forward, the portal casting fractured light on her face as she drew a shaky breath.


    Zethar checked the energy levels one last time. In the record highs.


    “It’s now or never,” he began. “Three, Two…”


    They both extended their hands, tentative at first. Their fingertips met at the portal''s surface, and for a fleeting moment, Zethar thought it would reject them. But then, the energy shifted—a delicate turn, like the unlocking of a door—and their fingers connected fully.


    Isolde gasped as she felt the warmth of his skin. Zethar’s breath caught in his throat.


    “I can feel you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with awe.


    “I can feel you too,” he replied.


    There was no need for words now. Suspended in a fragile, shared wonder, they let the moment stretch, its possibilities left to the future.