In the quiet town of Oakhaven, Rufus was anything but ordinary. While other dogs spent their days chasing tennis balls or napping in sunbeams, Rufus—a scruffy, wire-haired terrier with one ear that perpetually pointed east—spent his time monitoring the "Glimmer."

The portal snapped shut just as Arthur called out, "Rufus! Dinner time!"

He tracked the scent—a mix of tuna and malice—to the Whispering Woods. Trees made of glass sang songs of old kibble as he passed. There, he met his contact: a hover-hamster named Pip.

To the human eye, the Glimmer was just heat haze rising off the pavement. To Rufus, it was a portal. The Midnight Call

One Tuesday, while his owner, Arthur, was busy burning toast, the Glimmer pulsed deep indigo in the backyard. Rufus didn’t bark; he simply trotted through the pet door, his collar jingling like a tiny bell of destiny.

But as Rufus drifted off to sleep that night, his paws twitched. He wasn't dreaming of squirrels; he was dreaming of the stars.