The last lighthouse keeper polished the lens, humming to ghosts.
Outside, the sea whispered secrets only he remembered.
His cat, Soot, blinked—wise to worlds beyond tides.
“Tonight’s the night,” he murmured, winding the ancient clockwork.
Midnight chimed. The beam flared—not gold, but violet.
Sky cracked open. Silver ships descended, silent as snow.
“They’re here,” Soot purred.
The keeper smiled, stepping onto the air as if it were stone.
Behind him, the light winked out.
Earth sighed, relieved.
He wasn’t keeping ships from rocks.
He was keeping them from leaving.