Now Showing: Discovery

 

Discovery

Genre: Drama/Sci-Fi/Thriller

Director: Damien Chazelle

Writer: Jimmy Ellis & Chad Taylor

Cast: Julia Roberts, Tom Holland, Cooper Hoffman, Josh O'Connor, Riz Ahmed, Scoot McNairy, Renate Reinsve, Colman Domingo

Plot:

Friday

Ben (Cooper Hoffman) is a little winded as he rushes through the Boston Logan International Airport. He stops in his tracks once he realizes he left one of his bags in the car. The credits roll as he doubles back and then must go even faster through the airport to reach his gate. The stewardess is shutting things down but he pleads to let him on and she obliges. He is the last passenger to board and finally takes his seat next to Dr. Sarah Mauer (Julia Roberts), who gives him a knowing look of disappointment. She finally smirks and says this is why she shows up two hours early.

Ben is a member of Dr. Mauer’s research lab, which focuses on the overlap between neuroscience, communication, and disability. She is a leading figure in her field and well respected amongst her peers and students alike. The team of seven are heading to San Francisco to present their latest research at the Annual Conference for Neurocommunication Research.

Sadiq (Riz Ahmed) is seated a few rows ahead of them and clearly annoyed at Ben’s tardiness. Sadiq is the lead graduate student on the team and feels a sense of responsibility keeping them all in line. He turns to say something to Jack (Scoot McNairy), but he’s already dozed off before takeoff. Jack is older than the other students, having worked twenty years in the mines before going to school for the first time at 45, so he gets his sleep when he can. Sadiq looks across the aisle to Cedric (Josh O’Connor), who mocks Jack’s sleeping face. Nina (Renate Reinsve), is seated next to Cedric and lightly hits his arm, reminding him to be nice. Cedric and Nina are both in their third year in the program and share a playful bond. She gets a text from her partner, telling her to be safe. Cedric, reading over her shoulder, comments that there won’t be much she can do if there is something wrong with the plane. He asks why her partner hasn't moved to the States to join her yet and she insists that his job in Denmark is important. Long-distance works for now.

When they arrive, Liam (Tom Holland) is already there to meet them. Liam is the youngest member of the team at 23—straight out of finishing his undergrad—and extremely type A, hence the early arrival. He didn’t graduate top of his class for nothing. (Ben finished four spots behind him).The two have known each other since being freshman dorm-mates and have continued their bond through to grad school. They’re roommates once more for this trip and, per usual, Ben is behind his portion of the presentation and using this first night to catch up on his procrastination.

When the group arrive at their hotel they are immediately split into their rooms, Liam and Ben will be sharing with Ben hurrying to the room instantly to begin his part of the presentation. Liam runs after him telling him to slow down. Sarah tells Sadiq that he will be sharing with Cedric. A disappointment comes upon Sadiq’s face and she mouths “I’m sorry.” Cedric whispers to him that he won’t snore too loudly. Jack walks over to reception and mentions his name for his own room key. He had organised to stay in his own room. He walks straight over to the bar and gets himself a drink. Nina smiles as she is given her key, thanking Sarah for the opportunity once more. Sarah reminds her that she is here based on her own merit, not because she is being friendly.

Sarah wanders over to the bar with Jack, letting out a long exhale. He looks at her and slides over his drink. She chuckles and declines. Not until after the presentation. Jack sits back in his seat, smiling. He asks when her husband is supposed to arrive. She says tomorrow. He jokingly raises his glass to flying solo. She’s bemused.

Up in their room, Ben is working hard on his part of the presentation when he stops. His face has a look of intrigue upon it. He slides a device over his finger and looks at Liam. Liam’s lips don’t move but Ben can hear his voice. *Come on Ben, I’m hungry, get a move on.* Ben asks Liam to repeat what he just said but Liam says he didn’t say anything. *Weird.* Ben falls back in his seat, stunned. *What the fuck is going on?* He tells Liam to think of a number but don’t say it out loud. *69.* Ben chuckles and reevaluates, telling him instead to think of a number between 1000 and 2000. *One thousand…four hundred…and eleven?* Ben writes down “1411” on the hotel stationary. It is now Liam who falls back in his chair. He is nearly shaking. “Does it…,” he can hardly complete his sentence. Ben is still in disbelief and slides over the device. Liam nervously puts it on. *Fuck you,* Ben thinks with a smile. They grab each other’s shoulders and begin freaking out in jubilation. A knock on the door.

Cedric is at the door and asks about the commotion. He is bewildered by the look on their faces, like two kids told they’re going to Disney World but can’t tell anyone. *Did they...just have sex?,* he thinks - prompting Liam to quickly pull his arm away from Ben’s shoulder. Liam looks to Ben, as if to ask for approval. Sadiq has now joined in behind Cedric, also curious. *We should tell them.* Liam nods and in near unison they say “we can read minds.”

Cedric hurries down the hallway and knocks on Nina’s door. She says one minute, she’s getting dressed. He looks at the door longingly. *Hshodoalk…,* Cedric hears, causing confusion. As Nina gets closer to the door, her thoughts become clearer. It only works in close proximity. *How do I look?,* she asks herself while looking in the mirror. She opens the door and Cedric observes her dress. “You look nice.” They both smile.

The five of them are huddled in Liam and Ben’s room. Their hearts are clearly racing. How…does this work? What are the implications? Do they tell the others? Almost too much to consider in this moment. They have a group dinner coming up. Liam, being the Boy Scout that he is, believes they should at least tell Sarah. Sadiq says that’s a nonnegotiable; technically this was created in her research lab and so she will need to know. Cedric is more hesitant. He says they have the world at their hands right now. Like, life will be remembered before and after this device. And they are the ones shaping the future here. Nina agrees. She admits that she is already thinking of how this could be used to assist her nonverbal brother. But she also agrees that Sarah is ultimately their superior and they should consult with her, which means consulting with the whole group. Cedric looks a bit disappointed. Ben, always a bit quiet, keeps his thoughts to himself.

In her room, Sarah is unaware of any of this going on. She is unpacking her suitcase and, underneath the clothes, she takes out some folded papers. Financial statements, bills, and such. She feels uneasy looking at them.

The whole group gathers for dinner. Jack is running a little late, per usual. Sarah says tonight is not for business but wants to check in on how everyone’s part of the presentation is coming along. Cedric says he was a business minor in undergrad, he can do these presentations in his sleep. Nina jokingly asks if that’s what he provides to the team; presentation skills? He laughs and says someone has got to give science some sex appeal. The updates move around the table until they get to Ben, who has trouble articulating what he wants to say. Sarah worries that he is behind on his part. The rest of them give looks to one another. Sadiq finally steps in and reveals the truth. Sarah isn’t sure what to say at first, before finally asking if anyone is wearing the device right now. They shake their heads and then Nina slides the device over to her. Sarah slowly puts in on and is taken by the overlapping thoughts of everyone around her. Jack arrives and the table’s thoughts go silent, everyone looking to Sarah. He looks confused, asking if this is some sort of surprise party. Sarah tells him to take a seat. “We have something to tell you. Everything we talk about here stays between this group.”

Saturday

As the day gets going, everyone attends the conference but their minds are clearly elsewhere. They present 24 hours from now and have just made a life-changing discovery. Over breakfast, Ben, Liam, and Nina propose to Sadiq and Sarah how they could deliver the news to their fellow researchers. Nina explains how it could revolutionize disability communication and help her brother. And the millions out there like him. Sarah holds Nina’s hand throughout this. Sadiq offers a counter: the way this will be used by advertisers, intelligence agencies, dictatorships. Just as many people could be hurt by this as helped.

Cedric, meanwhile, talks with Jack about the financial possibilities. If they sold this to the highest bidder, they would all be set for life. No need to work in the research labs or classrooms. “Or coal mines,” Jack adds. Cedric gives him a knowing look. Jack notes that the others won’t think that way; they’re scientists at heart. This is what they are in it for, for the progress of knowledge. And what if it falls into the wrong hands. Cedric says Jack is starting to sound like Sadiq. He asks if he ever told Jack that he minored in business in college. The market will decide its best use, with or without them. Jack asks what he is proposing. Cedric says that it’s Liam and Ben’s technology; they should bring them in and then take it to Silicon Valley tomorrow morning. Jack says that’s too risky, Liam is too loyal and will spill everything. “Just Ben then,” Cedric says. Jack says this almost all too much and he is going to grab a drink, offering Cedric to join. Cedric declines, saying he is going to do his research on the best investors to pitch to.

The light in the hotel bar is low. Jack nurses his second bourbon, shoulders slumped but relaxed. Sarah joins him, silent at first. They talk the device—how it could rewrite everything they know—before drifting to quieter admissions. Regret. Resentment. Jack confesses he thought about quitting the program last year, that sometimes the silence of the mine feels more honest than academia. Sarah mentions the distance between her and her husband, the way their marriage has grown polite. They’re two people who have made peace with loneliness. Jack asks her, gently, if they ever thought of having children—knowing full well that that ship has likely sailed. She says that is something that remains between them and Jack understands. She then says she found some documents that have raised her suspicion, fudged financial statements and payments to something that reads like childcare. She begins to cry and he takes her hand, telling her he didn’t mean to open any wounds. And then, through the revolving doors, Randall (Colman Domingo) arrives early—smiling, luggage in hand. Sarah’s spine straightens as she stands to greet her husband She places a kiss on Randall. Randall nods toward Jack before the two walk away.

The hotel room is a blur of scribbled notes, open laptops, and nervous pacing. Liam talks quickly, excitedly, sketching out their pitch deck for how this could be framed at the presentation—how he might introduce the breakthrough. Ben notices the pattern. “My design…” “When I thought of this…” “Back in my notes...” It starts as a tick, but grows louder with each pass. Ben rifles through old files, pulling up shared folders from undergrad. There it is. His original signal amplifier model—credited to Liam in their sophomore year neurotech symposium. A sudden cold settles into Ben’s gut. He realizes this has been happening for years, subtle but consistent. Liam, the overachiever, had always been just close enough to take what was Ben’s and repackage it. A partner in name only. He says nothing for now. He looks down to his phone to see a message from Cedric: “You in or you out?”

Randall enters the hotel room with his usual calm. He looks rested, the kind of man who made people lean in without knowing why. Sarah stands near the desk, still in her heels, her blazer folded neatly over her arm. She looks up to Randall and manages a faint smile, but her eyes don’t quite hold it. “You made good time,” she says. “Wasn’t sure if you’d catch the evening talks.” Randall shakes his head. “I came to see you, not the panels.” He crosses the room and kisses her cheek, then her lips, letting his hand linger lightly at her back. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean in either. She moves to the edge of the bed and sits, smoothing the crease in her skirt. “Everything’s been a bit… chaotic,” she says, choosing her words carefully. Randall nods, watching her with quiet patience. “I figured. Still—you always sound more like yourself when you’re not trying so hard to sound fine.” She smiles. “I’m glad you’re here.” When he gently asks what’s going on, she says it’s not something she can explain right now. Randall gives a small nod, accepting it for now. “You know I don’t need the details,” he notes. “I just need you to be alright.” She closes her eyes and inhales. A pause too long. “I should go check on something. I’ll meet you down there before dinner.” He watches her collect herself—grabbing her coat, fixing her expression. She opened the door without another word. “I’m here,” he said gently, as she stepped into the hallway. She nods once, not turning back. “I know.” Then she was gone. And Randall sits alone, hands clasped loosely between his knees.

In the hallway, Ben passes Sarah and seeing her always has a way of help calming his nerves. But even she seems…off. She asks if he is doing okay and he quietly nods to confirm. He asks when Randall is supposed to get here. Everybody in the group loves Randall. He’s a literature professor and so he always brings a different, warmer dynamic to their science-heavy get-togethers. Sarah says that he’s already arrived. But then tells him not to bring up the device; it needs to stay between the group. Ben has the device on and can hear her wrestle with her feelings on this; this device could give her clarity in her marriage and let her know the truth. But does she really want to know? Ben gives her a look of pity, without letting on that he has heard everything.

As the sun falls, Sadiq walks out on the terrace to make a phone call to his wife. He asks how the kids are doing and how she’s managing on her own. He says he can’t wait to get back as soon as possible. She asks if something is up. He remains vague and says there is something that is making him feel very uncomfortable. He can’t go to the details but he feels like it is betraying God’s plan. More specifically, people are trying to play God. She doesn’t inquire further but just encourages him to follow his conscience.

Unbeknownst to Sadiq, Cedric has been following him—worried that he is going to steal the device and destroy it. He asks if what Sadiq said is true; that they’re playing God. Sadiq challenges him to read his mind. Cedric gets in Sadiq’s face and warns him not to ruin this for the rest of them. Sadiq says to think about this logically; even if he destroys it, they’ll be able to recreate it. If not Ben, someone else. He admits that he prefers a scenario where it’s not in the hands of a sociopath. Cedric swings at Sadiq and says to call him that one more time. Sadiq spits blood and says he didn’t call him anything, Cedric is making assumptions. Cedric goes to punch again but Sadiq evades and punches him directly in the gut. Nina runs up to the scene and tries to break up whatever this is to stop from developing into something bigger. As she gets in the middle, Cedric pushes her aside—forcing her to the ground. She looks up to him in disbelief as Sadiq goes to check on her. He immediately realizes his mistake and leaves in shame.

It’s after midnight. The room is dim, lit only by the cold glow of a desk lamp and the city haze filtering through the window. Ben sits still in a chair opposite Liam, who’s half-asleep on the bed, phone balanced on his chest. There’s tension in the air, a silence that vibrates with intent. Ben has the device on. He leans forward slowly, elbows on his knees. “Liam. Wake up.” Liam stirs. His brow furrows. His lips don’t move, but the thought forms: *Jesus, what time is it?* “You ever feel guilty?” Ben says. Liam blinks, eyes adjusting. He’s groggy but alert now. “What?” “No talking. Just think it. I’ll hear it.” A beat. Liam narrows his eyes. He’s confused, maybe a little afraid. *Ben, come on man, this is weird.* “Tell me what else you’ve taken. Since school.” Liam questions this, “What are you talking about?” Ben presses harder. He focuses like a tuning fork. “The symposium in sophomore year. The prototype. The draft on mirror neuron synchronization. You left my name off the presentation. You’ve been doing it for years, haven’t you?” Liam doesn’t respond with words. Just flashes from his mind—images, bursts of memory. A folder renamed. A PDF forwarded to a professor. The smug satisfaction of praise. A string of guilt quickly buried. Ben sees them as if they’re his own. “You don’t understand—” Liam begins aloud. “No. I do. I see you.” Ben continues to push. Liam lunges forward, trying to pull the device from Ben’s hand, but Ben anticipates it. He stands, looming, suddenly terrifying in his stillness. “Say it. Say you used me. Say you needed me to be small so you could be big.” Liam’s face crumbles. He thinks something soft—*I was scared I’d never measure up.* Ben hears it. All of it. The fear. The entitlement. The hollow center of Liam’s ambition. Ben removes the device. Places it gently on the table. Walks to the door without looking back. “Where are you going?” Liam calls out, almost childlike now. “To talk to Cedric.”

Sunday

The hotel suite is quiet, the low murmur of the conference downstairs barely reaching the walls of the room. Seven chairs form a loose circle around a small table, where a plain black box rests — impromptu ballot, simple and unremarkable, yet charged with tension. The device sits next to the box, so no one can use it. The team gathers, no Randall in sight, eyes red-rimmed from a restless night, bodies all slouched in different ways. Ben stares at the floor. Liam hovers near the window, arms crossed. Cedric drums a pen against his knee. Nina stands as far from Cedric as possible. Sadiq sits upright, already braced for disappointment. Jack is the last to arrive, per usual. Sarah stands at the center of them all. “We vote,” she says. “One slip. Yes or no. Do we include the device in today’s presentation?” One by one, they move to the box. A scribble. A fold. A drop. A moment of theater for a decision none of them want to make alone. When Sarah counts the papers, her brows tighten. “Three yes. Three no. One blank.” Confusion spreads through the room like a slow leak. No one admits to the blank vote. Sarah gives Jack a look, who shrugs “Must’ve folded mine wrong.” A suggestion to redo it dies in the silence. Then Sadiq speaks, low but firm: “It’s Sarah’s call.” The others nod, some reluctantly. Cedric’s eyes narrow but he says nothing. All attention turns to Sarah, who now holds their indecision in both hands. She doesn’t speak. Just stares at the slips of paper as if waiting for them to arrange themselves into clarity. Eventually, she places them back in the box, closes it, and says, almost to herself, “Then it’s mine.”

Sarah retreats to her room, where Randall is getting dressed. She tells him she needs to talk, there’s been something she’s been meaning to ask. In her head, she can hear his heartbeat increasing. “Do you ever regret our choice not to have kids?,” she asks. “That was your decision.” “That doesn’t answer the question.” He admits that he ponders the “what if’s” from time to time. But he’s happy how things are now. She places the financial statements on the bed. She asks if he is having a secret affair. A secret daughter. His face doesn’t break, serving a stare of disbelief back at her. She holds back tears. He then admits that he has been hiding the financial statements and other stuff from her, but it’s not what she thinks. He is in massive gambling debt. He thought he got better but it’s a vice he hasn’t been able to overcome. And of course he is too scared to tell her because he’s afraid she would leave him. Let him lose everything on his own. “Can’t you tell I’m telling you the truth? Aren’t you reading my mind right now?,” his voice cracks as he asks.

She drops her glass of water, shattering on the floor beneath her. He now looks concerned, holding on to her to see if she’s okay. She asks how he knew about that. About the device. He says that Jack told him everything this morning. She is now shaking and swears she is not wearing the device right now. She asks what they should do. He says to take his word with a grain of salt, since he’s only known about this for less than an hour. But it sounds like she already made her decision and she just wanted someone to tell her it is okay. They need this money. She asks if it is bad to go for the logical choice over her moral judgement. “We’ll only live this life once. Why not choose comfort? And besides, you’re a scientist. The logical choice is your only choice.” She holds his hand and nods her head, knowing he’s right but she will always have to live with this decision.

The prep room has a sense of artificial calm, but the tension is still felt. Sarah stands in front of a mirror, adjusting the wire of her lapel mic, trying not to tremble. One by one, the others enter. Nina hovers near the corner, arms crossed. Liam scrolls nervously through slides on his phone. Jack leans against the wall. Sadiq’s gaze scans the room, alert. The silence between them is its own kind of noise. “Where are they?” Sadiq finally asks, his voice sharp. No one answers. No Ben. No Cedric. Liam pulls Sarah aside and admits that he may be the reason Ben is not here. He briefly explains how he has been taking credit for Ben’s work for years. She is internally fuming but thanks him for sharing this. She addresses the room: “Whatever happens out there—we stay in step.” But no one confirms. The air between them is cracked. Still, they collect their papers and move toward the stage lights. Sarah lingers, one last look at the empty doorway before she steps onto the stage.

A black car cuts through town. Ben sits in the passenger seat, stiff in his hoodie, a laptop open across his knees. Cedric is driving, talking to a representative at a major tech firm. Between them sits a compact aluminum briefcase. The device is inside. Ben doesn’t look at it. After the call, Cedric looks to Ben. “Still time to back out.” He doesn’t say it like a challenge. Just a fact. Ben doesn’t respond. His jaw clenches as he pulls his sleeves down over his wrists. They ride in silence. From the back window, the conference center disappears into the distance.

Sarah stands beneath the lights, shoulders drawn back, voice steady. The auditorium is full, a quiet murmur of rustling notebooks and shifting bodies. Her slides flicker behind her—academic, sanitized and safe. She begins with protocol: the research lab’s mission, the goals of their study, the challenges they’ve faced in design. There is no mention of the device. Not yet. Liam keeps glancing toward the aisle, hoping for a late arrival that won’t come. Sarah pauses mid-sentence and looks out across the audience. “I want to talk to you about a boundary,” she says. “One that science has tried, for decades, to reach across.” There’s a shift in the room—a subtle lean forward. “We haven’t crossed it yet. But I believe, in time-” Liam cuts her off. He takes the presentation into his own hands and says that Sarah is being humble. The lab has helped create a device that can read minds of people in close proximity. Sadiq tries to interrupt him, worried he will say too much. Nina gives Liam a nod of encouragement. Jack looks amused. Sarah pulls him aside. “I’m choosing to believe in you,” she says with a certain menace. Liam powers on, grasping for the mantle of rising star scientist that he has always aimed for.

We flash back to Friday night, the day of the discovery. Liam slips on the device and stays up the whole night next to Ben, noting his drifting thoughts. Stealing his work like he has all these years. Now he just has to piece it all together.

In the back of the car, Ben stares at his phone. A message from Sarah sits unread: “I hope you find what you think you’re looking for.” He doesn’t open it, but instead just closes his eyes for a moment, as if he’s trying to steady something inside himself. The city blurs past the window. Cedric remains silent beside him, hands folded, satisfied. The briefcase rests between them like a weapon. The car merges onto the highway, swallowed by the morning light.

Cut to black.

Release: The Letter Never Sent

 

The Letter Never Sent

Genre: Drama/Romance

Director: John Crowley

Writer: Andrew Doster

Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Rupert Friend, Jonathan Bailey, Ben Feldman, Alyla Browne

Budget: $26,000,000

Domestic Box Office: $18,019,908

Foreign Box Office: $11,397,235

Total Profit: -$17,099,333

Reaction: Round 4 of Season 35 is not doing great at the box office. This is the third film in a row to lose money for the studio and already the fifth film this season (out of 12 films).

"While aesthetically similar to Crowley's past romance films, this one takes a step towards the fantastical with its dreamlike weaving between time periods. This is one of its biggest strengths, portraying nostalgia for the sensation that it is: longing for a past that never truly existed. But where it excels in mood, it lacks in character development as everyone feels like sketches of an idea rather than fully realized people." - Geoff Bray, Slant Magazine

"The Letter Never Sent is a beautifully controlled, emotionally literate romance that trusts mood over melodrama. Scarlett Johansson gives one of her most restrained and affecting performances in years. Even when the film flirts with narrative artifice, its compassion for longing and emotional self-examination keeps it moving and sincere." - Chris Mears, Slashfilm

"Despite elegant craft and committed performances, The Letter Never Sent ultimately sabotages itself with a twist that drains the story of consequence. By reframing its central romance as something fundamentally unreal, the film turns what should be lingering melancholy into emotional misdirection. The result feels less like poetic ambiguity and more like a rug pull that undercuts the investment it spent two hours carefully building." - Brian Edelstein, Time Out

Rated PG-13 for sensuality and thematic material

Top 10 Tom Holland Films

 

Sherman J. Pearson here for another Top 10. Tom Holland is due for a co-starring role in the flash sci-fi project Discovery, so it seems like a good time to cover his filmography for a Top 10.

Top 10 Tom Holland Films

10. That Was Then, This Is Now

9. The Journey

8. Tail

7. How to Survive in Hell

6. Sherwood

5. The Brothers Kendrick

4. Circumstances of Time

3. Nobody

2. Odysseus - Part One

1. Odysseus - Part Two

Now Showing: The Letter Never Sent

 

The Letter Never Sent

Genre: Drama/Romance

Director: John Crowley

Writer: Andrew Doster

Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Rupert Friend, Jonathan Bailey, Ben Feldman, Alyla Browne

Plot: New York, 1957.

A posh apartment on the Upper West Side. Eleanor "Ellie" Mercer (Scarlett Johansson) sits at the table dressed in an elegant purple dressing gown, absentmindedly stirring the coffee in her seemingly perfect kitchen. Richard (Rupert Friend), her husband, is impeccably dressed in a business suit, immersed in the newspaper where he is reading the latest news. The conversation between the two is polite but rather brief, formal and lacking in great warmth. Richard finishes his coffee, picks up his briefcase, absentmindedly kisses his wife's forehead and puts on his coat before leaving. Ellie remains alone in the silent kitchen, watching out the window as the sun begins to illuminate the skyline of Manhattan, but her gaze is lost in space.

Ellie works in the library in the antiquarian section, enjoying the maintenance and restoration of them. Her hands touch with precision and delicacy the fragile pages of an old, very damaged volume probably written during the Civil War. At one point a colleague approaches with a pile of books just brought by a lady who had to clear out the attic. Ellie nods with a tight and distant smile.

At a certain point in the work day she starts checking that pile of books to see if there are any hidden gems that can be recovered. While leafing through an old novel, she finds a yellowed sheet with a handwritten poem. She reads it slowly, caressing the paper with her fingers. The name at the bottom: James Gallagher (Jonathan Bailey). The book falls to the floor, a sudden pang in her chest pierces her chest.

A blurry memory: a summer evening, laughter under a streetlight, a stolen kiss on the stairs of the house with James. After a few moments Ellie jumps to her feet, visibly upset. The woman begins to walk back and forth between the shelves while suddenly she stops in front of the large window when strangely a flash lights up the sky since the sun had been out shortly before. Ellie watches the street as a heavy downpour begins to fall and enjoys watching a young engaged couple run to shelter from the rain under a canopy while she thinks back with a bit of nostalgia to a similar event that happened to her with James about ten years earlier.

Given the nostalgia that hit her that afternoon, she decides to stop by her mother's house, who died a few months ago. The air is thick with dust and memories. Climbing the creaking stairs, she heads towards the attic. Ellie rummages through old boxes in the attic of her late mother's house. Forgotten memories: black and white photographs, two from the cinema, an old light blue ball gown. At a certain point she sees her old diary whose existence she had forgotten, something seems to protrude from it that falls to the ground near her feet. She bends down to pick it up and notices that it is a letter whose paper is now worn and yellowed by time. It is addressed to her but it does not look like it had never been opened. Her name is written on the envelope in a familiar hand. Time seems to stop as she looks at it and her heart beats fast, maybe too fast. She puts her hands on her chest for a moment to calm herself and then with shaking hands, she opens it carefully for fear of accidentally tearing it.

Her pupils move as her eyes scan the lines: declarations of love, sweet words, promises of a future together, an invitation to Grand Central Station before he left the city.

Ellie puts a hand to her mouth, shocked. She never received that letter. Ellie slowly sits on the floor leaning her back against the wall clutching the paper to her chest as her eyes start to get watery. She dries her eyes and leaves the house.

It's evening. Ellie is sitting on the edge of the bed, the letter still in her hands. Richard comes home from work later than usual, says goodbye to his wife, hangs up his coat and then pours himself a glass of whiskey saying he's not hungry because he had dinner with some colleagues. Ellie watches him for a while and then gets up from the bed. She hesitates, then shows him the letter. She asks if he knew anything about it. Richard stiffens for a moment and remains silent for a few moments as she presses him. Richard finally answers, his tone measured, almost defensive. He says that maybe his mother had hidden the letter or that maybe it was a coincidence. Ellie looks into his eyes, realizing that he is probably lying to her. At that point she decides to change the subject as she walks over to the window looking at the city lights that twinkle.

During the night Ellie doesn't sleep a wink, lying in bed next to Richard, who is fast asleep. The room is immersed in darkness, illuminated only by the light of the street lamps filtered through the curtains. James's letter is on the nightstand. Ellie takes it and rereads it again, slowly.

In her mind, hazy and fragmented memories intertwine with events that could have happened: James Gallagher, kind and charming, looks at her with adoration. They are in a coffee shop, laughing, their fingers touching. A kiss in the rain. The sound of a departing train. He turns to look at her one last time.

Ellie returns to the present, closes her eyes, clutching the letter to her chest. She whispers "What if I had read this letter years ago?"

The next morning she gets up very early, prepares breakfast for her husband and leaves her a note. She takes a small suitcase and leaves.

Ellie walks through the people of Grand Central Station, the heart of New York until she stops exactly in the spot where James had asked her to meet him so many years ago. She stays there for a while and then looks around. Then she confidently buys a ticket to Chicago. As the announcer's voice echoes in the station, Ellie clutches her suitcase and gets on the train. The train departs. She looks out the window as she begins her journey in search of her lost youthful love.

Ellie walks among the austere buildings of the University of Chicago. She has an old address scribbled on a notebook in her hand. Sitting in front of her is Thomas Wade (Ben Feldman), a former classmate of James who she had met back then. He has aged since she remembered him in the past, but when he talks about James his eyes light up. Thomas shows her an old photo: him and James, young and smiling, in front of a typewriter. Then she tells her that James had been trying to contact her for months after he wrote her the letter, but when he never got a response, he finally left Chicago, brokenhearted. Ellie bites her lip, looks away. She knows it’s because of the unreceived letter and thinks there might have been more lost somewhere. Thomas says he hasn’t heard from James in a couple of years when he was in Denver. When she leaves the coffee shop, she pauses for a moment in the light rain. The wind caresses her face. She wraps her coat around herself, then goes to buy a train ticket to Denver.

Inn in the Rocky Mountains.

The inn is modest, but welcoming. The owner, an elderly man, welcomes her kindly. Ellie shows him an old photo of James. The man nods, recognizing him. He leads her into a room where, years ago, James had stayed for a while. The room is small, dusty, with an old desk against the window. Ellie approaches, running her fingers over the worn surface, as if she could feel James’ presence. Then she notices something: a dusty old literary magazine on a shelf. She flips through it quickly. Inside, a poem signed J.G. The words speak of a lost love, of a woman she has never forgotten. Ellie clutches the magazine to her chest. She stops in front of the window, the sunset light coloring the mountains a golden orange. A stronger beat in her chest. In her letters she often speaks of San Francisco. She makes a decision. The next train is to San Francisco.

Ellie walks through the foggy streets of San Francisco. She finds a bookstore that sells old volumes of poetry. She flips through the books on the shelves until she finds the name she was looking for: James Gallagher. The bookseller, a kindly older woman, tells her that James was a shy but brilliant man, beloved by his students. She gives her the address of the university where he taught. Ellie hesitates for a moment, then hurries out of the bookstore.

Ellie enters the university and explains the situation to one of the secretaries and is shown a seat. Ellie waits in silence in the small office, tapping her feet nervously, surrounded by shelves full of books. An elderly professor enters and looks at her curiously when he hears the name James Gallagher. In a calm voice, he tells her what she didn't want to hear: James, already a widower for years, died a few months earlier in a car accident. A sudden silence fills the room. Ellie feels faint, clenches her fists to keep from shaking. Her mind goes blank and everything around her echoes. Her journey is over. She's come too late. But the professor hands her something: a bundle of unpublished, never-before-published letters and poems. He tells her that James has never stopped writing about her. Ellie takes the letters with shaking hands. Her face is a mixture of pain and love. As Ellie leaves, the professor tells her that James also had a daughter named Margaret (Alyla Browne) who is now an orphan and living for now with the secretary who took her in shortly before.

Ellie sits at a wooden table near the window of a café, watching the steam rise from her cup of coffee. Her eyes are dull, as if all energy has left her. In front of her is Margaret Gallagher, James’s daughter who has agreed to meet her. She has the same intense gaze as her father, but with a curiosity and kindness all her own. At one point Margaret tells how her father often spoke of a woman from the past, a love never fully lived. “If only he had received that letter, my life would have been different,” he always told her. Ellie holds the cup in her hands. She breathes deeply, trying to control the emotion that closes her throat. Margaret takes out an old tin box and gently pushes it towards her. Inside, unsent letters, all written by James to Ellie. His words, his love trapped between the lines for years. Ellie leafs through them slowly. Her eyes fill with tears, but this time it’s not just pain. It’s also gratitude. Margaret takes her hand. "You can't change the past. But you can still change the present." Ellie looks at her, absorbs those words. For the first time in days, she feels her heart beating with new determination.

Ellie gets out of a taxi in front of her apartment building in New York.

Richard is in the living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He turns, surprised to see her there. He didn't think she would return. Ellie comes in slowly, puts down her suitcase. The silence between them is heavy. Then, in a firm voice, she asks him again if he knew about the letter. Richard lowers his gaze. For a long moment he says nothing. Then he nods, exhausted. He confesses that he found it years ago and hid it. He did it because he was afraid that Ellie would choose James. That she would leave him. And so he had decided for her, condemning her to a life she hadn't really chosen. Ellie watches him with eyes full of pain and anger. But then something inside her breaks. He's not the only one who has chosen. She has also let time take her away, without ever fighting for herself. Richard asks her if she can forgive him. Ellie doesn’t answer. She turns, looking at the window, the lights of New York reflected in her eyes

Then a deep breath and a light that tears the sky while she hears a buzzing in her ears.

The sound of a heart monitor fills the room. Ellie has been in a coma for days, lying on a hospital bed, her eyes closed. Wires and tubes keep her connected to the machines. Her face pale, still. Next to her, Richard holds her hand. He is destroyed, his eyes red from unshed tears. A voiceover says, "Mr. Mercer, your wife had a sudden heart attack while she was at work while she was sorting out some old letters and fell and hit her head hard. On the bedside table is the letter she was holding when she fell ill. A letter from a certain James Gallagher that he had written to a certain Ellie Fitzpatrick in the early 1900s.

Richard leans over her, whispering something. But Ellie probably can't hear him because she's still in her dream, a completely invented dream.

Ellie is standing on the platform, with her suitcase in her hand. The train to San Francisco is about to leave. The sun filters through the windows, illuminating the station with a golden and surreal light. She turns. James is there. Young, beautiful as she remembered him. He smiles at her. For a moment, Ellie feels the desire to get on that train, to experience that love that was denied to her. But then something changes. A distant sound... the beep of a hospital monitor. James looks at her sweetly, telling her to wake up. She stares at him, shaking her head. He takes her hand, squeezing it gently, saying he can’t live in the past forever. Ellie closes her eyes, holding her breath. When she opens them again…James is gone. The train leaves without her. Ellie turns slowly and the station slowly begins to disappear.

Ellie’s eyes snap open. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor jolts her back to reality. She’s breathing hard, as if she’s been holding her breath for too long. Richard jumps up from the chair beside the bed, in disbelief. “Ellie! Oh God, you’re awake…” Ellie blinks, disoriented. The hospital room is white, cold, far from the vivid world she’d just left. She tries to speak, but her throat is dry. Richard takes her hand, his eyes shining with relief as he calls for doctors and paramedics, yelling that Ellie is awake.

Ellie swallows, her thoughts racing. James… Margaret… the letter. For a moment, it all seems real. But then… she realizes the truth. James Gallagher never existed. Ellie Fitzpatrick wasn’t her.

She’d entered that story that wasn’t hers, the moment she’d touched that letter. She’d experienced a love that was never hers, felt the pain of choices she’d never made. Slowly, she turns to the bedside table. The letter is there, still open, the ink slightly faded by time.

A few days later, Ellie walks slowly, still clearly weak, wrapped in a coat with Richard under her arm. The man makes a funny joke and Ellie giggles amusedly. The autumn leaves fall around her. Ellie seems calm and serene as she has never been and even the relationship with her husband seems to have improved.

The two sit on a bench, Ellie takes out the letter from James Gallagher. She reads it carefully one last time, this time knowing that it does not belong to her, yet feeling that somehow it has changed her forever. Then, with a delicate gesture, she closes it and places it next to her. A little girl approaches and, curious, picks it up. She looks at it with a shy smile, as if a new journey into someone's mind is about to begin. Ellie gets up and with Richard they walk away together, returning to the hospital and she walks away.

During the credits ...

A librarian sorts old documents in the archives. Among the yellowed sheets, a photo falls to the floor. An old, faded portrait. It shows a man with a kind gaze, James Gallagher, and next to him... a woman who looks incredibly like Ellie.

Release: Spelljammer

 

Spelljammer

Genre: Action/Sci-Fi/Comedy

Director: Zack Snyder

Writer: Dawson Edwards

Based on the Dungeons & Dragons campaign setting

Cast: Will Smith, Tye Sheridan, Gal Gadot, Jason Isaacs, William H. Macy (voice), Gerard Butler (voice), Naomi Scott

Budget: $160,000,000

Domestic Box Office: $53,295,002

Foreign Box Office: $105,099,700

Total Profit: -$100,093,889

Reaction: The poor showing at the domestic box office doomed this one. While it's not the biggest flop in LRF history, it's not far off. Will Smith has a couple films on that list now. It also joins the list of D&D-inspired films that have flopped at the box office. This was meant to be the start of a new franchise, but unfortunately based on these numbers that won't be able to happen.

"Zack Snyder’s Spelljammer is messy, overstuffed, and occasionally indulgent — but it’s also energetic, visually confident, and surprisingly sincere about its space-fantasy weirdness. Will Smith leans into rogue charm without overpowering the ensemble, while Tye Sheridan and Naomi Scott ground the cosmic chaos with genuine stakes. The humor doesn’t always land, but when the film commits to scale, spectacle, and pulpy adventure, it delivers a lively, unapologetic ride that feels more curious than cynical." - Cal Crowe, Washington Globe

"Spelljammer offers a visually spectacular journey that is ultimately held back by its profound familiarity. The script successfully captures the charismatic "found family" dynamic of modern sci-fi hits, powered by witty dialogue and action sequences seemingly tailor-made for director Zack Snyder. Unfortunately, the narrative leans heavily on underdeveloped villains and convenient plot twists, sacrificing originality for a breakneck pace. This results in a film that feels more like a collection of cool, borrowed moments than a cohesive, groundbreaking adventure. While it’s a surefire popcorn flick, Spelljammer is a dazzling but ultimately forgettable ride that never quite charts its own course through the stars." - Ted Milo, Montasefilm

"Spelljammer feels redundant coming from Zack Snyder, retreading ground he already explored more coherently in Rebel Moon. Once again, we get solemn myth-making, cosmic tyrants, and slow-motion operatics — but here they’re awkwardly paired with jokey banter that never fits. Will Smith’s loose charisma clashes with the film’s self-serious style, and the familiar genre scaffolding offers little novelty even within its own niche. What might have been pulpy and strange instead plays like a lesser remix of ideas from other space operas." - Dave Manning, Ridgefield Press

Rated PG-13 for sci-fi/fantasy action violence, peril, language, and thematic elements.

SOCIAL SPOTLIGHT

 

Actors don’t just light up the screen — they light up the feed. Social Spotlight takes a look at how today’s stars promote their movies through the platforms that matter.

This round we have an Instagram post from Spelljammer star Will Smith....

Now Showing: Spelljammer

 

Spelljammer

Genre: Action/Sci-Fi/Comedy

Director: Zack Snyder

Writer: Dawson Edwards

Based on the Dungeons & Dragons campaign setting

Cast: Will Smith, Tye Sheridan, Gal Gadot, Jason Isaacs, William H. Macy (voice), Gerard Butler (voice), Naomi Scott

Plot: Luth Aelindor shimmered in the endless silver void, its crystalline spires stretching impossibly high above the Astral Plane. The palace-city had stood for eons, untouched by time, ruled by a lineage that traced back to the dawn of the Astral Courts. Tonight was meant to be another ceremony, another display of stability, another night where tradition reigned supreme.

Then the Sovereign Star-King vanished in a pulse of arcane energy.

The explosion of white fire rattled the throne room, a shockwave pulsing outward, warping the very air as the ground trembled beneath it. The gathered nobility staggered back in horror, their ceremonial robes whipping in the wind that should not exist in this place. The golden banners of House Vaelor fluttered wildly, and at the center of it all, standing alone before the empty throne, was Sylwen Vaelor (Tye Sheridan).

A silence deeper than the void settled over the chamber. Then the whispers began.

“Assassin.”

“Betrayer.”

Sylwen stared at the empty throne, his heartbeat a war drum in his chest. This wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. His father, the Star-King, had vanished before his very eyes.

The silence broke as the Astral Inquisitors stepped forward, their forms sleek and imposing, their armor glowing with cosmic energy. Blades of condensed starlight ignited in their hands.

The lead Inquisitor’s voice rang like a death sentence. “Prince Sylwen Vaelor. By decree of the Astral Courts, you are under arrest for the crime of regicide.”

Sylwen’s breath hitched. Then his body moved before his mind could catch up. Run.

The first spell exploded against the floor behind him, shattering the polished marble into dust. He darted past towering columns, twisting down the corridor as guards and Inquisitors pursued in perfect synchronization.

His feet barely touched the ground as he vaulted down a spiraling staircase of floating platforms, skipping entire landings, ignoring the burning in his legs. Spells whizzed past him, searing the air, tearing through ancient statues, warping reality itself.

The balcony was close. If he could reach it…

A golden spear of energy slammed into the wall beside him, the explosion throwing him forward. He landed hard, rolling across the floor, vision swimming as armored footsteps closed in.

He turned sharply, only to collide with an Inquisitor.

The knight grabbed him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air. The mask was blank, expressionless, reflecting only the palace burning around them. Sylwen kicked, struggled, his vision darkening at the edges.

Instinct.

His fingers wrapped around the tiny dagger strapped to his belt, an ornament not a weapon, but all he had. He twisted and drove it into the Inquisitor’s wrist joint.

The grip loosened. He wrenched free, hitting the floor hard, coughing as air returned to his lungs. The knight recovered, stepping forward, raising his sword.

Sylwen ran.

The balcony doors burst open as he threw himself into the night.

The family skiff hovered just beyond the edge, its crystalline sails glowing in the astral wind. The guards that should have been protecting it were gone.

Spells ignited behind him. The floor cracked and shattered. Sylwen reached the railing, pushed off with everything he had, and jumped.

For a moment, there was nothing.

Then his fingers caught the rigging.

The impact jarred his entire body, pain lancing through his shoulder, but he held on, breath ragged as he scrambled onto the deck.

He collapsed into the pilot’s chair, hands shaking over the controls, his mind racing. The Inquisitors were still coming.

Magic sparked at his fingertips, wild, unpredictable. He needed to teleport, needed to get away now. “Dimension Door” he thought.

His spell misfired.

A pulse of chaotic energy exploded outward.

A unicorn appeared out of thin air.

Sylwen stared.

The unicorn stared back.

Then it screamed and kicked him in the chest.

His body slammed into the controls, and the skiff lurched violently, veering away from the palace in a jagged, unstable flight.

The last thing he saw before the mists swallowed everything was the throne tower of Luth Aelindor, burning against the starlight.

He had escaped. But he had no destination. No allies. No home. Only the vast unknown stretching before him.

The cantina was already in full-blown chaos.

Fists flew. Glass shattered. Bodies slammed against tables, against walls, against the floorboards that had been sticky long before this particular brawl broke out. The air was thick with the tang of smoke, spilled liquor, and the distant hum of off-world music barely audible over the grunts and curses of the men trying and failing to put Cass Drake (Will Smith) down.

Cass ducked, weaving between swings like he’d done it a thousand times before. A wide arc of a punch came for him. Too slow. He sidestepped it, letting the poor bastard behind him take the hit instead. The unfortunate soul collapsed against the bar, knocking over Metris’ (voiced by William H. Macy) drink. The Thri-Kreen monk didn’t react, just calmly picked up his glass before it could spill. “My missing monastery would never…”

Another goon lunged. Cass pivoted, snapped his fingers and a blade of pure psionic energy ignited in his hand. It wasn’t metal, wasn’t even real, just a thought sharpened to a razor’s edge. He let the guy see it for half a second before slamming the hilt into his stomach. The man folded like a cheap chair.

Two more came at him from opposite sides. Cass rolled over the bar, landing neatly next to Karis (Naomi Scott), a young human woman and Metris, who didn’t so much as glance at him.

Karis casually took a sip from her glass. "Running out of moves?"

Cass winked. "I got moves for days."

He kicked off the bar, flipping back into the fight, his blades materializing mid-motion. The crowd roared, the fight escalating into something spectacularly stupid.

Across the room, Garrak (voiced by Gerard Butler), the Giff, don’t call him a hippo, waded through the chaos like a moving fortress, using his sheer size to bulldoze through brawlers. A heavyset mercenary lunged at him with a broken bottle. Garrak headbutted him so hard it nearly cracked the floor, then swung his massive rifle into his hands and…Click-Clack. He censored the bartender’s potty mouth with the sound of his reloading.

Cass laughed as he vaulted over a table, turning in mid-air, hurling one of his soulknives at an attacker mid-lunge. The energy blade sliced through the air, embedding itself in the guy’s shoulder before blinking out of existence. The man spun from the impact and crashed into a pile of chairs.

The fight should have kept going but it didn’t.

Because the air in the center of the cantina suddenly twisted, folded inward then with a violent snap, a full-sized Spelljammer skiff just… appeared.

Right in the middle of the bar.

Tables and chairs were instantly obliterated under the ship’s sudden weight. Patrons were thrown off their feet. The floorboards groaned beneath the impossible presence of something that should not be here.

A hatch on the skiff hissed open, and out crawled an Astral Elf. Sylwen groaned, pulling himself up on shaking arms. His face was cut, bruised, his once-pristine robes burned and torn. He was clearly barely holding himself together.

“I need a ship,” he rasped.

Cass wiped his mouth, exhaling through his nose. "Do I look like I give a fu-"

Click-clack.

The sound of Garrak cocking his rifle cut him off.

Cass rolled his eyes. Then sighed.

“I’m a Prince.”

Bral stretched across the surface of the asteroid like a beast refusing to die, its glowing towers and twisting streets a testament to the kind of people who had built it, those too stubborn or too dangerous to thrive anywhere else. What had once been a pirate’s hideout had transformed into the beating heart of Wildspace trade, a crossroads for smugglers, nobles, dignitaries, and cutthroats alike.

The Horizon Breaker settled into a docking bay in the Low City, its engines coughing out a final sputter before shutting down. Around them, the docks pulsed with activity, merchants haggling, mechanics shouting over the sound of welding, travelers watching their backs. No one here asked questions. That was Rule Number One on the Rock.

Cass led the way into the market streets, hands in his pockets, weaving through the crowd like a man who had lived here just long enough to know exactly when to duck. The city climbed around them in chaotic layers. Towering businesses of the Middle City flashing neon signs above, while the rooftops of the Low City slumped under the weight of too many people trying to disappear.

Sylwen was staring.

Karis caught his expression and nudged him, a smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. “You look like a tourist.”

“This place is…” Sylwen hesitated, eyes drifting across the sheer variety of life moving through the streets, Hadozee traders laughing over barrels of rum, Goliath and Dwarven mercenaries bartering for new weapons, Humans and Elves wrapped in noble robes, side by side with pirates in patched-up armor.

“Beautiful?” Karis teased.

“I was going to say impossible.”

Karis shrugged, her fingers idly flicking, weaving a small illusion of a silver dragonfly between them. “So is sailing through the stars on a magic ship, but here we are.”

Sylwen watched the dragonfly flit between her hands before vanishing in a shimmer of light. “You’re good at that.”

Karis tilted her head, feigning modesty. “Oh, I dabble.”

Cass, who had been pretending not to hear them, rolled his eyes so hard he nearly sprained something. “Great, I love this. Really. But can we flirt on our own time? We’ve got a job to do.”

Sylwen straightened immediately, clearing his throat. Karis just gave Cass a knowing look before falling into step beside him again.

Cass muttered under his breath. Then, as if on cue, he turned a corner and shifted instantly into full charm mode.

Because there, at the center of a bustling, lavish casino, draped in shadow and elegance, was Saphira Nightwind (Gal Gadot).

She was leaning against the roulette table, lazily tapping her fingers along its edge, her Tiefling eyes glinting like cut obsidian.

Cass grinned, slipping into the seat across from her. “Saphira, darling. Long time no see.”

She didn’t even look up from her drink. “Still alive? Disappointing.”

Cass placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “You wound me.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and for half a second, there was something sharp and amused behind her smirk. Then she sighed dramatically, swirling her drink.

“What do you want, Cass?”

Cass leaned in. “The Emerald vault. You know where it is.”

Saphira tilted her head, considering. “And if I did, why would I tell you?”

Cass grinned. “Because we both know you’re running a job here. Which means you want out before the Guild realizes you’re double-dipping.”

Saphira’s expression barely shifted.

Then, she exhaled. “North quadrant. Behind the trade houses. Security’s tight. Two minutes inside before the scanners tag your biometrics. After that? You’re dead.”

Cass nodded. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Saphira smirked. “Oh, I never said I was done.”

Cass barely had time to process before the room erupted into absolute chaos.

The heist should have been clean. It wasn’t.

Garrak had barely stepped foot inside the vault before Sylwen’s Wild Magic went berserk. He had meant to disarm the alarm system but instead, he had transformed all the security drones into aggressively territorial seagulls.

Karis’ illusions were working flawlessly, until one of Sylwen’s magic hiccups randomly duplicated the head of the casino’s security and put it on the wrong body.

Metris moved through the chaos like liquid, knocking out guards with precision—except for the one unfortunate moment when Sylwen accidentally made him twice his normal size mid-maneuver, sending him crashing through an entire row of vault boxes.

Cass, focused as ever, was mid-lockpick on the vault when the entire floor became sentient quicksand. It was, to put it mildly, a disaster. They got what they came for but just barely.

The Magistrate’s Watch descended onto the casino like a storm.

Cass and the crew barreled into the night, alarms blaring behind them. The streets of Bral turned against them, mercenaries closing in, bounty hunters sniffing out the disturbance.

Cass pulled Sylwen by the collar, dragging him into a side alley. “You don’t get to talk for five minutes.”

“I…”

“FIVE. MINUTES.”

They tore through the Middle City, ducking between hanging bridges and glowing market stalls, Garrak blasting through obstacles, Karis throwing up illusions to cover their escape, Metris vaulting over gaps like it was nothing.

Sylwen, panicking, tried to teleport them to safety.

Instead, half the crew disappeared for six seconds.

When they reappeared, Garrak looked deeply disturbed, Karis was visibly shaking, and Metris simply muttered, “We are never speaking of that.”

The docks were within sight. Behind them, a squad of heavily armed mercenaries rounded the corner. The fight was inevitable.

Garrak cocked his rifle. Metris took a silent breath, steadying himself.

Sylwen, sweating, raised his hands, ready to try anything to make up for this mess.

Then, from the rooftops, a sharp whistle rang out. They all turned.

Saphira sat casually on the edge of a rooftop, bow in hand, legs crossed.

Cass groaned. “Oh, come on.”

Saphira winked. 

Sylwen, determined not to screw this up, channeled another spell. A spectacular surge of power built in his hands.

And then he turned himself into a potted plant.

Cass dodged an attack, saw Sylwen, and nearly lost his mind.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

Garrak threw Sylwen-the-plant over his shoulder and kept running.

The Horizon Breaker was in sight, its engines already flaring to life.

They sprinted up the ramp, blaster bolts ricocheting off the hull.

Cass was the last one inside, panting as he slapped the controls. The ship lurched upward, tearing away from the docks just as an explosion rocked the city below them.

The crew collapsed onto the deck, breathing hard.

Sylwen, now fully back to normal, groaned. “What… just happened?”

Cass sat up, running a hand down his face.

“You happened.”

The Horizon Breaker cut into the void, racing toward their next destination.

The ruins drifted in the void, the last remnants of a world that no longer existed. No fire, no corpses, just absence. A kingdom erased in an instant, like it had never been.

Zael’Rith (Jason Isaacs) stood on a fractured slab of marble, hands clasped behind his back, unmoved by the silence. Behind him, his Inquisitors knelt, waiting.

The lone survivor trembled at his feet, her fine silks in tatters. She gasped, eyes darting to where her home had been.

"You. You destroyed everything," she rasped.

Zael’Rith tilted his head, mildly curious. "Destroyed? No. That would imply something remains."

She tried to move, to speak, but the space around her shuddered. The breath in her lungs vanished. Her fingers clutched at nothing.

"A flaw," Zael’Rith murmured, watching her unravel. "Corrected."

And then she was gone. Not dead. Just erased.

The Inquisitors remained silent.

One finally spoke. "The monastery?"

Zael’Rith’s gaze didn’t shift, but something in the void did. A ripple. A fracture.

"A necessary precedent."

Another pause. The comms crackled.

"My Lord, the Astral Courts are noticing the anomalies."

Zael’Rith exhaled, faintly amused. "Let them."

The Inquisitor hesitated. "And the prince?"

Zael’Rith’s eyes darkened.

"He was never meant to be."

A flicker of raw power pulsed through the void.

"And soon, he won’t be."

The Horizon Breaker drifted in the quiet expanse of Wildspace, its engines humming softly beneath the silence of the crew. Karis sat near the viewport, absently flicking a coin between her fingers, the silver glinting in the starlight.

Sylwen leaned against the opposite wall, watching her. "You do that when you're nervous," he said.

Karis smirked, not looking up. "You assume I'm ever nervous."

Cass, standing at the helm, arms crossed, glanced between them. "You're a terrible liar."

Karis hesitated. Just for a second. The coin slipped, landing flat on the table.

Sylwen straightened slightly, sensing something shift. "Karis?"

She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "It’s just... I used to have this idea of where I’d end up. What my life was supposed to be. And now I’m here, flying through the void with…" she gestured vaguely between them. "...a cursed rogue and a wild magic disaster. Not exactly what I planned."

Cass chuckled, leaning back. "Yeah, well, life’s full of…"

"But maybe it was never my choice," she cut in.

The air shifted.

Sylwen’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Karis opened her mouth, then stopped. Whatever she was about to say, it was too much.

She forced a grin, flicked the coin back into her palm, and leaned back. "Nothing. Just talking nonsense."

Cass studied her for a moment.

Sylwen didn’t look convinced. But neither of them pressed. The moment passed.

The Horizon Breaker shuddered as it neared the dying star, the vessel struggling against the gravitational tides that rippled outward in waves of crimson and gold. The sky churned with violent flares, the corona stretching like molten fingers grasping at the void. And orbiting in its deadly embrace, Zael'Rith’s fortress, a colossal obsidian monolith, flickered like a mirage, phasing in and out of existence, as if reality itself was rejecting it.

The ship’s sensors screamed warnings.

Inside the cockpit, Karis and Sylwen sat side by side, the glow of the displays painting their faces in shifting hues.

"You ever been in a Spelljammer battle before?" Karis asked, fingers flying over the controls as she rerouted power through the ship’s battered systems.

Sylwen swallowed, trying to maintain some level of dignity. "Not… exactly."

Karis smirked. "So that’s a no."

Before Sylwen could protest, the comms crackled.

"Incoming," Garrak’s voice rumbled.

The enemy ships emerged from the distortion fields around the fortress. Sleek, black-hulled skiffs that moved with unnatural precision.

"Alright, princeling," Karis said, her hands dancing across the console, "time to impress me."

Sylwen focused, summoning his magic, preparing to create a shield spell around the ship.

Instead, he summoned a field of floating spectral ribbons.

Karis blinked. "Huh. Not bad, if we were decorating for a festival."

Sylwen groaned.

Garrak opened fire, the main cannon thundering as explosive shells ripped through the enemy formation. Metris, moving like a shadow, vaulted from the ship onto an enemy vessel, his limbs stretching and twisting in zero gravity. He landed silently, disabled the pilot with a single strike, and ripped the control panel apart with precise, methodical efficiency.

Onboard the Horizon Breaker, Karis activated illusion protocols, flickering the ship’s image across multiple locations, making it appear as if there were five of them. The enemy skiffs faltered, their targeting scrambled.

Cass stood near the pod bay, watching the battle unfold. His fingers twitched as he prepared to board.

"We’re going in," he muttered.

Sylwen turned to Karis, their eyes meeting.

"Try not to die," she said.

Sylwen hesitated just for a moment. "You too."

Cass grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the boarding pod before he could get any more sentimental.

The pod launched, streaking toward the fortress like a burning comet. It slammed into the hull, cutting through the structure like a knife.

Inside, the fortress was wrong.

Corridors twisted in impossible angles, doors appeared and vanished, flickering between states of existence. The air hummed with the weight of something ancient and unfinished.

Cass and Sylwen moved quickly, pushing deeper into the labyrinth of shifting walls and pulsating energy. The core chamber loomed ahead, a vast, circular space where Zael'Rith hovered, his form barely a silhouette against the swirling maelstrom of collapsing space.

Zael'Rith turned, his voice smooth, almost amused. "I was wondering when you’d arrive."

The walls pulsed, reality buckling. Images flickered in and out of existence. Places that had been erased, histories rewritten, entire civilizations collapsed into nothingness.

"You," Zael'Rith said, his eyes locking onto Sylwen, "should not exist."

A thousand different versions of Sylwen flickered behind him, half-formed realities, paths never taken, erased futures.

Sylwen’s breath caught.

Zael'Rith’s voice was steady, deliberate. "The only reason you’re still standing, child, is because I did not account for your magic."

Dark energy exploded outward. The room shook violently, the spell tearing through space itself.

Sylwen tried to react, but the magic inside him rebelled, surging chaotically, flickering between strength and ruin. A burst of golden light erupted from his hands, but it warped midair, twisting into a storm of floating, bewildered seagulls.

Zael'Rith barely acknowledged them.

Sylwen gritted his teeth.

He had spent his entire life trying to control this. Trying to contain it. But magic wasn’t meant to be contained. For the first time, he let it in.

The chaotic tide of Wild Magic rushed through him, not as a curse, but as a storm waiting to be directed.

The walls warped and hallways became endless loops, staircases spiraled into themselves, the entire fortress bent to his will.

For a single, perfect moment, Sylwen didn’t fight the magic. He became it.

Fire crawled across his skin, shifting in color, in form. The very geometry of the room twisted under his command.

Zael'Rith faltered.

Sylwen lifted his hands, and the magic aligned. Raw energy coalescing into a massive FIREBALL.

He unleashed it.

It struck the core of Zael'Rith’s spell, the entire fortress screaming in protest as the unraveling stopped, the chaotic energy dissipating, reality stabilizing for the first time in what felt like eternity.

Zael'Rith staggered, his form flickering.

Cass, standing nearby, turned at the sound of footsteps.

Saphira.

She was moving toward an escape vessel, eyes locked on the exit. Cass intercepted her, blocking her path. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You could have walked away clean," Cass murmured.

Saphira exhaled, glancing past him toward the exit, then back at him. There was something like regret in her eyes, but it was buried deep. "Maybe I still will."

Cass didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Then the fortress groaned, the structure collapsing around them. Saphira stepped back.

Cass smirked. "You’re a (CLICK-CLACK) idiot."

She smirked. "Takes one to know one."

They ran.

Back in Wildspace, the Horizon Breaker’s battle raged on, each remaining crew member holding their ground. Karis redirected engine power, sending the ship into a spiral that dodged a barrage of incoming fire. Metris vaulted back onto the hull, flipping through zero gravity, moving with surgical precision as he disabled an enemy turret mid-air.

Garrak, standing at the main cannon, fired a final, deafening shot, obliterating the last of Zael'Rith’s forces.

The boarding pod barely made it back in time.

Cass, Sylwen, and Saphira tumbled out of the hatch, breathless, as the fortress behind them folded in on itself, a final burst of light consuming its remains.

The Horizon Breaker pulled away, the dying star still raging behind them, its flames licking at the void like something hungry, something endless.

On the bridge, the crew stood in silence, watching the expanse of Wildspace stretch before them.

Metris leaned against the railing, gazing up at the distant glow of passing Kindori, massive, celestial whale-like creatures drifting through the stars.

Garrak stood beside him, adjusting his rifle. "You ever gonna tell us what happened to your monastery?"

Metris was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke.

"It was erased."

They watched the Kindori pass, their massive forms moving with slow, deliberate grace.

Behind them, Sylwen sat beside Karis, watching her fingers flicker with soft, illusionary light.

"So," she said, smiling. "Are you a rogue now?"

Sylwen let out a breath, shaking his head. "I think I’m just getting started."