Episode 2 Scene 1

I came to when water struck me; or rather, when I struck the water. Disoriented, I squinted through quivering eyelids and saw a black mass resting on the ground a few feet away from me. A glowing, beady yellow eye met mine, and another gust of wind propelled me – and most of the muddy water – out of the puddle, and slammed me against the oak tree.

Having had the wind knocked out of my lungs, I grabbed my chest, and fell to the floor, gasping for breath. A shriek pierced the air as something whooshed past the top of my head and slammed into the tree trunk, sending another burst of wind barreling behind me which propelled me several feet across the gravely earth into a bush. My fingers twitched as my wits settled against the piercing shrieks in the background. The ground rumbled, shaking the velvety leaves of the bush. A sweet, tangy scent cut through the smell of wild plants and damp earth, and something sticky landed on my lips before trickling into my mouth.

The world swam into view again with surprising clarity, and I became acutely aware of the misshaped red blobs hanging from the bush, as well as the numerous cuts and bruises on my body that were rapidly closing and fading. My disorientation abated, replaced by a heightening sense of control, energy, and urgency – an adrenaline rush. Head abuzz, I picked myself up, and saw the black figure struggling in front of the tree. Its claws raked the ground, sending mud flying behind it. Wings larger than my body flapped in a frenzy, sending waves of air crashing around the beast.

I felt the urge to rush forward and punch its back, but checked myself. A growing unease crept around the edges of my mind; I wouldn’t go after bullies in school, let alone giant feathered monsters kicking up gale force winds, why was I so eager to fight a monster bird?

I stared at it, wondering what it was, and it stopped for a moment. I blinked and it thrashed around even more wildly. Cracking noises caught my attention, and I looked up to see the tree sway, then collapse, as the giant bird jumped into the air, shaking orange residue from its shiny beak. Its eyes flickered in my direction as I abandoned all notion of fighting the thing, and ran.

I dashed between the trees so it wouldn’t be able to attack me directly, but the bird didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. It pushed gusts of wind towards me, kicking up a storm of dust, stones, and insects that followed me through the forest. I grabbed onto tree trunks and branches to steady myself using reflexes I never knew I had, and managed to not be blown off my feet.

My breaths were measured but deep, and I stepped over or around every stone, root, and beetle on the ground while ducking under branches and low hanging vines. I even managed to avoid flying insects, and a strange flower-like snake that uncoiled itself and shot at me as I passed it. After a while, I caught onto the bird monster’s patterns, and ducked behind trees and rocks as gusts blew by. When it managed to peek through the canopy, it would shriek when it saw me alive and well.

It chased me for what seemed like a few minutes, although the sunlight began to dim a lot faster than I’d expected. Eventually its shrieks grew weaker, the winds threw up less rocks, and the forest became thicker, darker, more wild and mysterious.

The forest vanished as I burst into a clearing. I dug my foot into the earth, and tried to spin back inside for cover but a wall of wind pushed me further out. An excited shriek rang through the air as a black shape eclipsed the sun behind the edge of the forest.

I put my hands in front of my face as another burst of dirt and rocks assailed me but a large rock rolled onto my foot, making me bite the inside of my lips. The monster bird rose into the air, stalled for a moment, and swooped in with its beak pointed at me. I jumped to the side while it was still in the sky but it changed direction, its beak and eyes following me as I tried to make a break for the trees again.

Realizing I wouldn’t make it in time, I faced the monster bird, waited for it to get close enough that I could hear the wind whistling past its body, and jumped to the side. The bird didn’t seamlessly change direction like last time, but it flapped its wings to come to a halt a few feet from the ground, which ended up kicking up so much wind that I was tossed across the clearing like a skipping stone.

I felt a bone crack, and my ankle twisted in so many different directions in so many different ways that it could have been break-dancing. I lay sprawled face down on the earth, mind-numbing pain threatening to drown my consciousness. However, the edges of my fingers prickled and a tingling sensation rose up my spine, fighting against the pain, and winning. Soon, I could hear my breathing again, and gingerly put my hand under me, lifted, and turned my sore neck back to see why the monster hadn’t come to finish me off while I lay prone.

The answer: it was gone.

My ankle was uncomfortable so I moved it around a little, stopping when it popped back into position. I sat there, searching the darkening sky for traces of the beast, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Then I noticed that it was a shade darker around me than it was in the rest of the clearing, and looked up to see a wooden beam hanging over my head. Turning around, I saw a wall made of old logs that were covered in moss but weren’t rotten at all.

I picked myself up, abandoning a shoe that had a stone stuck in its sole, while keeping the other one on. The cabin had a door decorated with what looked like an olive wreath with bright purple leaves, and yellow flowers. On the door hung a plaque made of darker wood with “Moxy Melsam” carved into it, as well as a smaller bit of a different kind of wood with “and Elenor Cramer” scribbled on it in flaky blue ink. Near the bottom of the door was a rectangular hole covered by a golden metal flap with cracks spreading across the wood from where the flap was affixed into it. A gentle purple glow seeped out from under the door and flap.

My heart pulsed violently, making me double over. I felt cold. Sweat dripped into my eye and raked against my back as my mouth dried up, and my lips began to crack. A burning sensation traveled up my throat before subsiding, leaving my insides raw and aflame.

I gasped involuntarily, and stumbled into the door, making it creak in protest. My heart raced faster and faster, a constant hum ringing inside my ears, thumping against my chest, and making my head tap dance to a new age electronic dance number. The beat dropped with my eyelids.

Episode 1 Scene 3

Golden pillars lined a giant, open-air hall, propping up slabs of stark white marble. The air was hot but the ground was cold. I looked down and found myself barefoot. I flexed my toes, feeling out the shiny tiled floors which had a circular pattern extending out to the pillars and the walls beyond.

A fountain ran silently in the center of the open hall with water flowing from the edges of a sculpture twisted into knots and tangled curves. The water was so clear I could see the patterns engraved into the bottom of the pool. Channels took water from the pool to the four corners of the hall where they fell into smaller pools lined with marble stools. The sunlight was so bright it made the splashes of water droplets around the fountain shimmer like glitter. Trees stood scattered around the hall, some so low I could pick their fruits without climbing them. A large silver dome stood against the pale blue sky, ornate markings shimmering under the sunlight.

The empty book I’d been reading was gone but I didn’t care because between the pillars under the slabs of marble, were rows upon rows of bookshelves.

“Holy shit,” I breathed. I walked carefully towards the pillars, passing the fountain and the water channels. The familiar, comforting scent of paper and ink hit me as I neared the shelves made of fancy wood with intricate patterns carved into them. It must have taken ages to carve all those swirls and whirls, and unlike the dusty, disheveled shelves in the library back home, these were well taken care of.

“So many,” I whispered. I didn’t know where to start so I wandered, admiring the scrolls stacked with paperbacks and hardcovers. An open space caught my eye. All the shelves curved around it and a hole in the ceiling let light flood in. In the movies, this would be the place with the magic sword or holy grail. Instead, as I approached the space, I pinched my nose.

In the center of the space was a skeleton, long dead but still reeking of decaying flesh. It sat on a wooden chair and leaned on a table. There was a decayed quill in its skeletal hand, tip caked with ink. I stared at the open book on the desk.

There were words on it. It wasn’t empty! And if this wasn’t empty, neither were the rest. I turned and sized up the endless rows of bookshelves stretching to the ceiling. It didn’t seem like anyone else was there at the time, save for the skeleton, but there was food, water, shelter and more books than I could ever hope to read, so I would be fine. I didn’t know how I got there nor where there was, but if it wasn’t for the well I’d been stuck in before, I’d have swallowed my edgy atheism and concluded that I was in heaven.

The book on the skeleton’s desk was open so I stepped closer and frowned. The words flowed in a strange way, connecting in long lines cut off at random points. Shapes and symbols decorated the pages. I cursed under my breath, did I have to learn a new language to read these?

I gently slid the book off the desk. My fingertips tingled and when I glanced at the book again I could read the words! They were still some strange squiggles here and there, but I could read most of it like I understood the language.

Guess that was that for my atheism. Maybe if God had told me about the great library in the sky, I would’ve read my mother’s bible and paid attention during mandatory mass.

I stepped away from the skeleton’s desk, the odor was getting overbearing. I went back to the main hall, lay on the floor by a water channel, and flipped to the first page of the book. There was no title, but a short note on the first page gave me the book’s name. The note was scribbled in the author’s hand and read,

“After years of scholarly research, travel, and experimentation, I, Ave, have compiled my knowledge of the medicinal arts and present it to the world for the benefit of God’s creations. Let it be known as the might of knowledge, of science and understanding, let it be known as the law, let it be known as the Cannon.”

A book on medicine? I thought. Well, why not?

I don’t know how long I lay there reading the Cannon. As a book about medicine, it wasn’t particularly thrilling, but the author’s voice spoke through the squiggles, and he was incredibly charming. Almost made me want to go back and hug the skeleton.

Finally, I reached the final pages. Ave’s knowledge of medicine was pretty basic, I’d had a better understanding of biology in the third grade, but I wasn’t reading it for the science anyways. On the last page, he wrapped up his opinion on the origin of disease and bid farewell to me.

The sun was lower in the sky and I wondered what I’d do at night. Didn’t seem like there were any lights around. I stood up, the Cannon still open in my hands. The back of my shirt clung to my skin, both with sweat and the droplets of water around the channel. I decided to read the next book in the shade. I closed the Cannon and it vanished.

I blinked and checked the floor. I turned around but it wasn’t there. I ran back to the skeleton but it wasn’t on the desk either. I went back to the open hall and sat on the edge of the fountain. The book disappeared as soon as I closed it but not when I finished reading. The Cannon’s disappearance made me uncomfortable but there might be another copy on the shelves. I checked the shelf to my right and scanned the spines for titles. I grimaced, they weren’t organized alphabetically or in any way at all, as far as I could tell. I checked the shelf above and below that one, as well as the ones to either side, but couldn’t figure out a pattern. I noticed that a few books were missing from some of the rows; did that mean there were other people here or that they didn’t fit into the system by which the books were organized.

As the sun dipped further down the sky, the blue dome caught my eye again. I’d dismissed the inscriptions on it as decorations before but now that I’d had some experience with the language, I could tell that those squiggles meant something. I recognized one of the squiggles, which read “House,” and brought to mind the book I’d picked up in the well.

I resolved to not close any of the books I finished reading, so they wouldn’t disappear, and stood up. After taking a sip from the fountain, I made for the bookshelves but my legs began shaking. No, the ground began shaking.

Steadying myself against a tree, I noticed how the House itself was still against the backdrop of rattling earth. The water in the fountain didn’t ripple nor did any books slide off the shelves. The dome caught my eye again, not because it was shining, but because it was rising into the sky. The palm trees and the pillars on the right followed, going up like a wave. Nothing on the left of the fountain – where I stood – was lifted but that wasn’t particularly comforting as everything that had been on the right was now almost directly overhead.

The giant marble slabs and pillars, and the uncountable bookshelves; all of it came crashing down. I closed my eyes and braced for impact.

It never came.

Instead, there was a soft pat. I opened my eyes and saw a kid, slightly shorter than me but dressed like a fifty-year-old business tycoon, standing in the middle of a forest with a green book in his hand. I recognized the book and the boy.

“You,” I began. “You’re the kid from the library.” He nodded and my eyes flitted to the book. He put his other hand over it, and met my gaze.

“Hello,” he said. “The name’s Demetrius Thornton. Pleasure to meet you again.”

“Jean Forster, likewise,” I said, taking a step forward. “Could I have a look at that book? It’s mine, I’ve been looking for it all over the place. Thanks for finding it!”

Demetrius blinked but didn’t respond.

“Fine, we can share. Just let me take a look.” I reached for the book.

Demetrius’ eyes widened and he stepped back. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t have it.”

“It’s my book.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Fine, it isn’t. But it isn’t yours either, so let me have a look.”

He inched back. I frowned and stepped closer as he bolted.

I ran after him. The underbrush was thick so neither of us made it very far, but he ran awkwardly, probably because of his designer shoes and suit. He side-stepped mud puddles and parted shrubs with his hands before stepping through. I caught up with him quickly, tears in my top and mud on my jeans.

His scarf got caught on a branch, and I tackled him as he struggled. He fell face-first into the dirt as my brain rocked inside my head from the impact. I wrenched the book from his grasp and tried to get away but he grabbed my ankle and made me stumble. I kicked myself loose, tucked the book under my armpit, and lifted a branch out of my way as I ran.

He caught up to me after a few too many thorny bushes and low hanging branches, but I’d noticed his approach and turned to face him as he tried to claw at my back. He’d hung on to his scarf by wrapping it around his front but I pulled it down and tried to run. He ignored the trailing scarf and ran forward to grab the back of my arm. I elbowed him with the other and decided to run back in the same direction he’d come from.

My boots squelched as they pushed his silk Hermes scarf into the slush behind the patch of mushrooms by the oak tree. He grabbed a fistful of my short, bristly hair, and wrenched my head toward the broken bark of the tree trunk. The rough bark scraped against my cheeks, making them burn red. I pushed back against the ground and pulled him toward me by the scarf still hanging by the frayed collar of his mud-splattered suit. His head crashed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me as I hit the ground. A bony hand reached for the book tucked under my armpit, so I shrugged it off and rolled out from underneath the boy.

He stood up groggily and steadied himself against the tree but I was on my feet before him, and kicked the back of his knee, making him flop into the puddle, scattering scummy water across his red tie and pointed chin.

“No, it’s not yours,” I said between rushed breaths.

He put an arm under his shoulder and propped his head up with his forearm. I was about to kick him down again when he rolled over to lay face up in the puddle. His hair-gel mixed with the water, making dilapidated, rainbow colored halos around his head as the filtered sunlight struck the murky puddle. He looked at me down the bridge of his nose, and smiled, revealing a perfect set of reddened teeth.

“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” he said. “You looked smarter than that, but I guess that’s just the cover.” Something changed as he said that; maybe his eyebrows became a little narrower, and more pointed, perhaps his shoulders broadened, or his cheekbones rose. I barely knew him but these changes made me hug the book a little closer to my side and keep my eyes fixed on him.

He brought his hands to the center of his body, and fumbled around for the buttons of his coat, found there was only one left, buttoned it, and pushed his hands through the puddle and against the slime underneath. He brought a soiled leather shoe into the puddle and rose, water dripping off his coattails as he puffed his coat, and spit the redness of his teeth to the side.

I put another hand on the book. “Don’t come any closer. I said we could share it, there’s enough in there for the both of us.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded pensively. “True.” He began walking toward me in a gait that was very different from the one he’d had before. His legs were straighter, his chest and chin higher, and his feet landed firmly on the ground leaving prints, and parting every patch of grass down the center. “True. You haven’t learned the way this world works yet. Granted, I only figured it out a moment ago myself, but still, how regrettable.”

I ducked and tried to tackle him, hoping to surprise him before he reached me. I dug a foot into the ground, stopping inches from the puddle. “You’ve gotten faster.”

“You have no idea,” he said, his voice far closer than I’d expected. I turned around just in time to see his fist cover my field of vision. I fell back, face burning, head muddled with pain, and heard my feet sloshing through the water. I brought a hand to my face, and felt a tug beneath my arm as something slid out. I flailed to try and grab it but failed.

There was no splash so I turned, and saw Demetrius standing behind me with the book in his hands, and face inches from mine. I lurched sideways as his leg swept mine, and crashed just beside the pond, hitting the damp earth with a thud. Pain shot through my head as my body refused to budge, becoming just another blob of color in my swimming field of vision.

“You messed up,” said Demetrius’ voice.

“How?” I asked with a raspy breath.

“You were inside the House of Wisdom as long as I was, I presume, yet you didn’t figure out how this new world works. You’re either incompetent or incredibly unlucky.”

“New world?”

He continued in his smug voice, “So it was incompetence after all.”

I coughed and felt the wind blowing past the tears in my clothes; it was sharp but not malicious. The sunlight was almost completely hidden by the clouds and canopy, like layers of blankets over a sick child.

“Wisdom loves me, the warrior,” he said as I saw his blurry figure walk into the darkness of the forest, taking the House with him.

My limbs stayed stuck to the ground like iron rods, darkness encroached upon the edges of my vision, and my head began to float away. I managed to curse with the last of my strength, “God damn it.”

After a moment, there came a chuckle. “You haven’t even figured that out yet either? God is dead, in body, and on paper.”

My consciousness slipped.

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Author’s Note: Hi! Thanks so much for reading my story! Just a heads up, I’ll be adding author’s notes to the end of every Episode, and I’d really appreciate it if you read them all. If you don’t, you’ll never find out about how the rate of release for this series will be at least two chapters a day (patrons can access more) and how it is slated to be completed in around two months or so! Now wouldn’t that be terrible? Not knowing something that everyone else knows would make me feel dumb, that’s for sure.

Episode 1 Scene 2

Something rough rubbed against my hands. Sand. I hate sand, it gets in everywhere. I groaned. The swirling world settled and bright lights stung my eyes.

I dragged myself up and hit something hard. I dug with my foot and unearthed a rope; old and rotten, edges frayed, no good for climbing. Not like I could’ve climbed out. I couldn’t see the sky, and the muscles of a shut-in weren’t good for scaling circular walls, or even walls in general.

The wall was a strange mishmash of colors and shapes with a thick but uneven layering of sand and grime. I eyed the rocks jutting out in random places but they were too far away from each other to be useful.

What now, Jean? I asked myself. Starving to death in a well sounds tedious.

I took a deep breath and yelled, “Somebody, help!

My voice bounced off the walls.

“I’m stuck down here.”

My echoes were the only reply.

“Help!”

Help… help… help…

I yelled for what must have been an hour before sitting down, throat burning, eyes watering. I was stuck. Couldn’t even tell the time down there but at least I knew the sun was out. Where else could all that light have been coming from?

With my back against the wall, I stared at the circle way above me. My voice probably wasn’t reaching the top, echoes dying long before they could catch an ear – assuming there was an ear out there to be caught.

My pockets were empty, no phone, no ribbon, nothing. At least if I’d had a book I could have read it while my body wasted away into the sand. Now that’s a death worth dying – poetic as fuck. I grabbed my knees and thought.

How’d I get here? What was the last thing I remembered?

Sliding ladders and a burning book. A kid wearing a suit and a cozy room at the back of the library.

I didn’t remember falling down a well or getting kidnapped by a masked villain or anything. Rich kid didn’t seem like the throwing-girls-into-wells type either. But then how in Wordsworth did I end up there?

The light was waning and I was panicking. Of course, as I panicked, my thoughts flew about the walls. I had to keep shouting for help; sounds carry farther in the night, maybe I’d get lucky. I picked at the wall beside me without looking at it. I dusted off the sand and played with it absent-mindedly. There was nothing else in the sand at my feet, I’d checked.

Could I eat the rope? Probably not. I’d read somewhere you could eat the leather in your shoes in a pinch. I hoped I didn’t have to gnaw at my soles, although that’d be pretty poetic too.

I told myself to think. I must be missing something, something staring me straight in the face.

My hand brushed something smooth. I jerked to the side and noticed a shiny surface where I’d been playing with the sand on the walls. Smooth was probably an exaggeration; the thing was coarser than skin. But anything smoother than sand sounded good to me. I brushed away the sand on either side, trying to dig the thing out. I only had a few moments before the well would be plunged into darkness.

A long green rectangle came loose, too soft to be a brick. I tried to yank it out but it was stuck tight. I planted a foot on the wall, grabbed both sides of the thing and pulled. My fingers were numb and my nails screamed in pain but I persisted.

I crashed into the sand again as the thing came loose. Groaning, I caught my breath, and hissed as the sand stung my bleeding fingers. I sucked on my thumb, taste of metal and grit filling my mouth. I spat, and wiped the rest of my fingers off my clothes.

In the dimming light, I searched the ground and found the thing a few feet away. I scrambled over and picked it up. My heart stopped.

I flipped it open. Pages bristled – a familiar, welcome sound. A book. It was a book.

But then my heart sank. Empty. It was empty. I flipped through the pages, checked the back side, rubbed my eyes, prayed to the gods of literature, but it was no use. I flung it away. It hit the wall with a thud and I heard a few pages tear but I didn’t care. They weren’t even good enough to kill myself with.

Fitting place for my end. A loner ignored by her own parents withering away unnoticed. So god damn poetic.

I stared into the darkness above, and walked over to the book I’d thrown away. I picked it up and brought it to my shoulder again, ready to fling it across the well. But I stopped, and my arm weakened, and I brought it to my chest. I pressed my face against the leathery cover, breathing in the distinct, book-y smell that reminded me of the secret room at the back of the library.

When my life went to hell, that was where I’d always go; straight to the books. I buried myself in tales of demons and werewolves, detectives and serial killers, even gods and video game developers. The weight of a hardback on my fingers, the crisp sound of a turning page, the woody aroma of paper, and the taste of every word lapped up by my voracious eyes; it’s what I lived for, it’s what I used to escape the dull, dry, dreary disappointment of my real life.

But now my escape had become my prison.

Bloody poetry.

I looked at the book again and frowned. In the last vestiges of light, I could barely make out a title embossed onto the cover. As darkness fell, I read aloud:

“The House of Wisdom.”

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Episode 1 Scene 1

Reading books used to be fun. I admit, my idea of fun was whack but hey, better than abducting a kid for a cross-country sexcapade in the back of an SUV after passively murdering her mother. In French, too.

Damn Humbug, distracting me from my story. How did it start again?

Right, the snowstorm.

The snowstorm raged on the streets of Fenbay, pelting the side-walks with hail the size of ducklings. I ducked inside as the doors whizzed open, shook the snow off my coat, and looked out the glass panels at the flurry of frozen sky-mud. There was no pale fire outside, all of it snatched by the Zemblan. Wasn’t the only reason I cursed Shakespeare though. I detested him for being an obfuscator of the truth. He sang with an empty voice, knew how to play with words, twist and turn them until they came back to bite you in the ass like an ouroboros with midnight juice.

What I’m trying to say is that Shakespeare was a liar. And I don’t mean he was Bacon or something, I mean he lied like he wanted to be a real boy. He said the lines wouldn’t end but the eternal summer was over and it was cold outside, even though man’s eyes could still breathe, or whatever.

He said that words would never die, but as I walked into the building, all I saw were tombs. Empty tombs. He was right about one thing though; life’s a stage. I just wish it wasn’t a two-stage modernist drudge through a sales pitch. Why couldn’t we be in the one with the rapping Federalists? To be fair, being in the edgy, post-modern, fourth-wall breaking story with the throwaway references and lampshades wasn’t much better.

The old man snored at his desk. I rang the bell. He stirred. I rang it again. He grumbled as he awoke, and his beard flew over his eyes. He cleared his face, and stared at me through his overly large vermin glasses.

“Back again?”

I tried to hand him my library card but he crossed his twigs instead.

“Come on kid, why do this to yourself? Go do something healthier, something fun. I can hook you up to a JumpNet. Grandkid’s been plugged in for months now so he’s gonna take a break tonight. I can let you try it while he’s off. How about it?”

I pushed the card further in his face. He mumbled, took it, and swiped it on the strip. Click. I walked in, pushing past the revolving steel rods.

“We close at 9,” he said, before mumbling under his breath, “I’ll lock you in for real if you stay any longer.”

He wouldn’t. Didn’t want my parents on his ass. I almost wanted to tell him to not worry about them, but I liked staying in the library till midnight. The glass panes on the outer walls – the only crappy part of the building – were dark and dead by then, like a honeycomb housed by zombie bees. The clock on the first-floor landing would ring at twelve like a windchime, echoing in the empty aisles with an eerie, ethereal tingling.

My heavy boots hit the ground gently but the tiles still rang. Should’ve worn my sneakers. All the shelves were empty, books put away for preservation, they said, but then what was the point of the library?

The floor was clean despite the blizzard and rains afflicting the city for the past month, and the old man sure as hell hadn’t cleaned the place. The library didn’t have a robosweep either. No huddling figures in the corners, no blankets on the floor – even the homeless didn’t come here.

Down several aisles, across another dozen book-less rows. The pitter patter of my feet, the thump thumping of the snow on the windows. Dusty cobwebs and the scent of synthetic tile-cleaning fluid. The lights dimmed this far in, like a dungeon or a crypt.

I saw the light, and it was bright. The cramped aisles gave way to a reading room with plush cushions, rough rugs, and soft sofas. Here, unlike in the rest of the library, the shelves weren’t emptied out graves but living, breathing tombstones with colorful spines and stenciled titles that shimmered under the orange hues coming from the ancient – and possibly illegal – reading lamps on either end of the room. I stepped down the stairs and strolled along the shelves, eyeing the books scrunched together on the wooden beams.

There were only a couple hundred of them, and they weren’t arranged in any discernable way. Historical fiction rubbed shoulders with self-help, fantasy neighbored geography, and musical compositions were sandwiched between romance novellas and science fiction. But the shelves were dusted, the floor swept, the pillows fluffed. I had no idea who was taking care of the place or why the books hadn’t been shipped to Nebraska yet, but I wasn’t going to complain about the only books in the city.

I slid the ladder to the far side of the shelves and climbed near the ceiling. I pulled a green ribbon from between a hardcover and a paperback, both copies of a bildungsroman about a pipsqueak. It had been a wonderful read, albeit slow and hard to understand but I chalked that up to the centuries that lay between me and Dickens. I’d read another tale he’d conjured up, heard it was the best-selling story of all time back when stories used to be good enough to sell.

The next book was an old one, referenced on the backs of dozens of other books and in the few magazines sprinkled around the shelves. It was a soft hardbound with flaky edges and coffee-stained pages. I’d read this one at least twice over the past month. I handled it gingerly while stepping off the ladder. Safely on a sofa with a lamp trained just over my head, I opened the first page and began.

“It was a bright cold day in April –”

Sharp, measured footsteps, crafted by hand and worth a million bucks, echoed down the aisles. I frowned. The old man couldn’t afford to sound like that. I sat up, breath held, staring at the darkness under the clock on the first-floor landing. The crisp steps stopped. The clock kept ticking.

A gray shoe stepped into the light, followed by black pants so shiny they stood out against the dark aisle. White gloves emerged, cured leather too expensive to slap with. They pulled on black cuffs, revealing a slick black watch with crystal hands that gleamed all the way to my sofa. The cologne hit me then, it reminded me of what my dad’s boss wore, only richer, more luxurious, more full of itself. A figure left the shadows.

Perfect posture, sculpted face, chiseled jawline, and a designer haircut, tied together with a red tie on a wrinkle-proof, but still ironed shirt and a silk scarf so smooth it rippled. Kid wouldn’t have been out of place behind the Wall Street bull.

He glanced over the book in my hand, eyes flitting over the ribbon on the armrest. We said nothing. My eyes fell to the pages, he walked to the shelves.

He went to the end of the bookshelves, and climbed the ladder in a motion as natural as mine. I peeked over the pages and saw him picking through a row. He pulled out a black leather bookmark and an old hardcover, descended, and sat on an armchair by the other reading lamp. I couldn’t make out the title but there was a sculpture on the cover; some old guy with a curly beard. Judging by the state of it, it seemed like he’d read that book quite often too.

We read in silence. Or at least he did, I wasn’t reading. I couldn’t focus. I’d never met someone who liked to read as much as I did, not even at school. The few sympathizers I’d found online had been fakes; bots and assholes, most likely. But there was another question in my head that kept me from speaking.

What was a guy like him doing in a place like this? If he could afford what he was wearing, he could afford to buy a few books. Would’ve been cheap too, because no one wanted them. He could probably buy the whole library and ship it to his own private island or something. Then again, he was here, and he was reading. No point brooding over it, Jean, might as well continue reading yourself. I focused on the words.

“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking –”

The ground shook and there were loud thumps as things fell behind me. Must’ve been an earthquake. I glanced over. The books on the highest shelf had fallen out. I met the rich kid’s gaze and we wordlessly grabbed some of the fallen books, swung the ladders around, and began shelving. The clock kept ticking. It was way past nine now. The old man was probably snoring in his seat, cursing me in his dreams.

The last book was one I’d already read as a kid. It was a religious story about a witch, a lion, and a cupboard or something. It was banned a couple of years ago, so finding a copy here was a pleasant surprise. The rich kid had a book in his hand too, a thick one with a dragon on its cover. We climbed the ladders together and reached the open space in the center.

We stopped – the space was too small. I tried squeezing the books on my end together but couldn’t eke out a millimeter. The other shelves were full; how the hell did this fit in the first place?

“Push together.”

I looked up. Rich kid pointed at the books on my side and then his. I nodded and pushed. He grabbed the books on the other side and pushed too, and we tried to squeeze the remaining books in. We kept at it for a good while, clock still ticking. Frustrated, I swung back to the edges, rearranged and tweaked every crooked book, and came back to the space. His ladder rattled as he did the same. We tried again, pushing harder, forcing every hardback to lock together, every paperback to stick. Not good enough.

“I’ll take one with me,” he said.

“I’ll take the other.”

“How’ll you get past the librarian?”

“Old man doesn’t care.”

“The machines do.”

“Machines haven’t worked in years. I’ve borrowed lots of books before.”

“Okay,” he said. “But there’s enough room here for one.”

“Put yours, it’s a better fit.”

“I was thinking of reading this, it brings back some memories.”

“Same.”

We stood awkwardly on the ladders, high above the ground, surrounded by books as the night drew on. It was about time for me to go home, the shuttles wouldn’t run past one.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll just take the one I was reading before.” I made to replace the book but it wouldn’t go in. Frowning, I reached in with my other hand.

The rich kid looked on as I grunted and pulled out a book that had been hiding in the back of the shelves. The cover was dark and sooty, burnt and crumbling. The pages were stiff and crinkly, a dark mustard brown that reeked of old age. Rich kid shimmied closer and peeked. The title was illegible but I could make out an elegant font and golden letters embossed at the bottom – the author’s name, most likely. It read, “One.”

The back was singed black but it didn’t seem like there was much there to begin with. This was the kind of book that needed preserving which meant they’d probably toss it in a landfill. I gingerly opened the first page, rich kid breathing down my neck. The page was wrinkled and full of holes and burn marks, like an old firefighter’s skin. Still no title, nor any useful details. All we got was an acknowledgement.

“For my sister, who was always a disappointment to herself first, and a joy to others second. If anyone else reads this, I beg you to stop. These words are not for you, this world, these characters, this story, none of it is for you.

This tale is dark, humorless, and epigrammatic. Yet if you continue to read this despite my warnings, be warned, the plot might just suck you in, and refuse to let go.

If you have yet to put this away, I commend you. Thank you for your indulgence, I hope this is an experience you won’t forget.”

As I finished reading, my hands warmed. The holes on the page expanded, the wrinkles collapsed, and the burns spread. Flames erupted on the page and I slipped. Rich kid reached over, grabbed empty air, and fell after me – his ladder sliding away.

I hit the ground and my lungs emptied out. Pain wracked through me and my vision blurred. Rich kid’s head hit mine. The clock struck and the windchimes rang. Once, twice, all the way to thirteen.

<Prev|TOC|Next>

The world swam straight into the darkness.

The End

Hello everyone!

I’m Who Cares?, the author of this story, and all I wanted to say was thank you! Thank you for reading this story, giving it your precious time and energy, your brain cells, and possibly some bone marrow! This story began as an experiment on my part but I’m glad some people enjoyed it nonetheless.

Going forward, I intend to release a new story or two in around a month, and hope you’ll come with me for another journey. I may not be the most prolific author in the world, nor the most experienced, but I’ll try my best to craft something both you and I can enjoy.

Until then, I’d love any and all feedback you can give me about this project of mine. I firmly believe that the artist is dead and art lives solely in the minds of those who experience it, so give me your best shot!

Thank you very much for everything, have fun, live long and prosper!
Yours in fiction,
WhoCares?

72.0 Zero_Chapter 17: Flicker

A black-haired man with an unnerving smirk wiped the sweat off his forehead as he put down the giant box in his hands. He grunted, lifted another one, and put it gently on top of the other.

“You done yet, Runir?”

“Almost,” replied the black-haired man as he picked up the last box. His laces were untied and got caught on a hook, bending his legs behind him and falling face first to the ground. Luckily, he’d managed to keep the box in the air. Runir picked himself up, spit out some dirt, and placed the last box gently on top of the pile.

“You alright?” asked a scruffy woman in a white dress.

“Yeah Lily, I’m fine,” said Runir, grinning.

Lily dusted off his shoulders and fixed his collar. “Did you have to do this right before we left?”

“Of course I did, couldn’t have these damn boxes blocking the driveway.”

“But you parked the car outside.”

“Still.”

Lily lifted her eyebrows and gave him an annoyed look. Runir smirked and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Come on, stop being so grumpy. You’ve been looking forward to today all month.”

Lily leaned against him. “I wouldn’t be grumpy if someone would take better care of themselves.”

“Fine, fine, no more chores. Happy?”

“No more chores for now. Don’t think you can pull that one on me again.”

“Hey, if it worked once…”

“Are we going or not?” said a new voice.

“Yeah Zoe, Runir was just taking the boxes off the driveway.”

“But the car’s outside…”

“That’s what I said.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop doing the chores,” said Runir, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get going?”

“Oh, almost forgot,” said Lily as she rushed inside. She came back with large jackets. “Heard it snows up there this time of year.”

“Snow on volcanoes?” said Zoe, fixing her hair, and fiddling with her nails.

“It looks magnificent,” said Runir. “Just you wait.”

The wind was chilly, the kind that kept the grass fresh. Lily put the jackets in the trunk. Zoe sat in the back and slung her backpack off her shoulder. She took out a couple of wires, put a bud in one of her ears and crossed her legs. Runir took the passenger’s seat and opened a large map.

“These things are so hard to follow. Why is traveling so complicated?” he asked.

“What did you expect?” said Lily, opening the door, and sitting behind the wheel. She fiddled with the keys. “It’s not like you’ll get where you need to go without knowing where it is.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Runir. Lily turned the key and the car rumbled to life. She backed onto the road, and drove to the highway. A sign proclaimed that they were leaving Fohil’s city limits.

“Take the third exit on your right,” said Runir, turning the map upside down.

Zoe bobbed her head a little and mouthed the words to the song she was listening to. Outside the window, trees and hills whizzed by. Mountains appeared in the distance, some of them giving off thin wisps of smoke.

“Who else is coming?” asked Runir.

“Most of her sisters, I think. Lunaris’ got an appointment with someone so she sent a gift in the mail instead.”

“An appointment? Lame excuse.”

“Yeah, nobody knows what she’s up to these days.” Lily pressed the horn. “Out of the way!” She swerved past the offending truck, grumbling at the LeAgua company sticker. “Adriana should take up Breize’s offer already.”

“For the flying transports?” asked Runir.

“Yeah, she was going to call them Breizeplanes but it wasn’t catchy enough.”

“So what did Lunaris send her anyway?” asked Runir. “Have to make sure ours matches up.”

“It was a… you know what, I think I’ve forgotten. Zoe,” Lily raised her voice and Zoe looked up, taking a pod out of her ears. “You remember what Lunaris sent Amy?”

“Candle,” said Zoe, popping the pod back in.

“Oh right,” said Lily. “Some sort of decorative candle.”

“Makes sense,” said Runir, leaning out the window. “Fits the tea-set she gave her last year.”

Lily nodded. The car hummed up the gradually sloped roads, heading into the Vandrake mountains. They stopped for a break at a gas station by the road. It wasn’t an impressive establishment, little more than a shack in the woods, to be honest, but they made sure to stop for a while.

“Hey old man, how are you?” asked Runir, stepping out of the car.

A short old man sat on a moth-eaten sofa behind the magic gas pumps. He popped a cheery smile without teeth and put away his newspaper.

“Ya kids ‘er late!” he said.

“Sorry,” said Lily before giving Runir a pointed look. “Somebody had to stack some boxes.”

“Alright, alright, it was my fault,” said Runir. “You coming to the party, old man?”

“Nah, don’t have it in me bones,” said the old elf. “Tell her I said hi, will ya?”

“You got it,” said Runir. Lily finished filling up the car, gave the old elf some Tel and a few cans of his favorite cider, and the three were on the road again.

“Will Vandrake be there?” asked Runir.

“I think he’s in charge of the decorations.”

“Perfect.”

“Are we there yet?” asked Zoe.

“Almost.”

Crumbling ash and sharp stones filled the landscape. The wind blew shards onto the road, and the car jostled as it ran over them. The wheels would be fine but they had to pull down the windows. Zoe bobbed her head and snapped her fingers from time to time. Runir had long since thrown aside the map, and began looking outside the window, eyes sometimes flickering to Lily with a grin. Lily kept her eyes on the road, like a good driver.

“There it is,” said Runir, pointing. The largest mountain in the area lay beyond his finger. Lava cascaded off the top of the mountain but you could just barely make out the shrine built on top of the sea of boiling rock-soup.

“Thanks,” said Lily dryly.

“No problem.”

They pulled into the driveway that ran into the sea of lava.

“Zoe, call Amy, please,” said Lily.

Zoe moved her shoulders and mouthed more words to her song.

“Zoe,” said Runir waving his hand.

Zoe snapped her fingers, sleeves falling down, letting the sun shine on her skin.

“Zoe!” shouted Lily.

Zoe blinked her eyes open and gave Lily a quizzical look while popping a pod out of her ear. “What is it?”

“Call Amy please, we don’t want to drive through lava,” said Lily.

“Would totally ruin the paint,” added Runir.

“On it,” said Zoe. She flitted with the device connected to the pods in her ears. It was a cuboid made of prisms, encased in metal. She put some magic into it and it began to shine. A moment later, the shining subsided, replaced with a gentle red glow.

“Hey Amy,” said Zoe. “How are you? I’m great, yeah, yeah, school’s fine. No, they’ve been less annoying than usual. They’re giving me death glares right now though so mind letting us in? Great.” The glow died down. “Happy?” she asked Runir and Lily, before going back to her music.

A giant slab of earth cut through the lava, laying a road with glaring red arrows painted on it.

“She should really try to make this place more inviting,” said Lily, as she revved up the engine.

“Must be the arrows. I told her she should’ve gone with smiley faces,” said Runir.

“That would be weird.”

“Not as weird as a drawbridge over a lava pond.”

“True.”

They drove up to the gates of the Fire shrine and parked outside with the other vehicles.

“Woah, did Breize drive her entire shrine here?” asked Runir.

“Apparently,” said Lily.

“Who’s that?” asked Zoe, pointing to rickety old bicycle.

“No idea,” said Runir.

Lily pointed. “Is that a…”

“Ferris wheel?” said Runir. “Yes, yes it is.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” said Lily.

“Come on,” said Zoe. “I think it’s already started.” The pods in her ears vanished and she ran through the gates.

Lily and Runir ran behind her. Music drifted out of the gate but it was only once they were inside that the booming bass hit them.

“Whoever introduced Amy to that stuff needs to jump off a cliff,” said Runir.

“Come on, it’s party music,” said Lily. “Love what Vandrake did to the place.”

“Yeah, he really went all out.”

The shrine’s tower was painted hues of red, growing lighter as it reached the sky. Banners streamed down the sides, proclaiming Amy’s birthdate with a cute cartoon caricature of her face. Red balloons blew in the cold wind, reflecting the dimming sunlight. A crowd of people bustled about tables lined with snacks and drinks.

“Oh, I forgot the jackets.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Runir. “We can handle a little breeze.”

“You sure about that?” said a grey haired young woman.

“Breize!” said Lily. “Nice to see you. How’ve you been?”

“You know, inventing tea brewers, fixing up makeup applicators, building weapons of mass destruction, the usual. How about you two?”

“Not much, good profits last month.”

“Oh, where did you work again?”

“Classic chemicals.”

“Right, right, I remember now. Oh, excuse me,” she pulled out a prism-phone. “Oh, hey Carla. The what? Okay, calm down…” She walked away.

“Always busy, that one,” remarked Runir.

“Her company’s been booming lately. People like the prism-phones more than anyone thought they would,” said Lily.

“Oh look, it’s Applecake.”

“Ha, ha, Candela, laugh it up. You know I bought out your publisher last week, don’t you?”

“So what? You aren’t going to drop me. Your greedy little heart wouldn’t let you.”

Adriana mumbled. “Whatever. Hey Lily!”

“Hi Adriana!” They hugged. “How’s Granny?”

“Too sore to make it all the way here, I’m afraid.”

“She’s always too sore to leave that swamp.”

“She swears it’s the bugs that keep her young.”

“I don’t think I’d wanna stay young if I had to get eaten out by bugs.”

“Adriana! Lily! Nice to see you!” came another voice.

“Tera!” said Lily, giving the woman in brown a hug. “Nice to see you too.”

“Haven’t aged a day sis,” said Adriana.

“You too, squirt,” said Tera, giving Adriana a bump on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, pretend like I’m not here,” grumbled Runir.

“Fine, grumpy, gimme a hug,” said Terra.

“It’s fine, please keep ignoring me.”

“Everyone’s together, I see,” said a clear voice that cut through all the noise.

“Solaron,” said Lily, smiling at the white-haired woman. “I love the dress.”

“Thanks, I’ve been keeping it for a special occasion.”

“Doesn’t get more special than this,” said Adriana.

“You know, I’ve always wondered,” said Runir. “Why is Amy the only one who holds a birthday party? You’re all sisters aren’t you, try doing as much for your family as she does.”

“We do hold birthday parties,” said Solaron. “It’s just that we’ve never invited you.”

“Oh,” remarked Runir. Lily chuckled, making his frown deepen.

“Hey everyone!”

“Amy!” said Lily, running over to hug her. Zoe was on Amy’s heels chatting with another young woman.

“Lily! I was worried living with Runir would mess you up but I’m glad that isn’t the case,” said the red-haired woman.

“What is it, roast Runir day?” complained Runir.

“It’s always roast Runir day,” quipped Lily. Runir mumbled something under his breath.

“I’m glad you guys made it,” said Amy. “It means a lot to me.”

“Of course, how could we pass this up?” said Lily.

“Although I am beginning to regret coming…” said Runir.

“Oh hush,” said Lily.

“It’s almost time,” said Terra, checking her watch. The sun had dipped a while ago, and the moon wasn’t going to come out tonight. The music stopped. Amy looked around, signaled the lumbering mountain that was Vandrake the dragon, and made her way to the stage directly beneath the tower. A group of balloons got loose and floated away. Amy reached the stage and accepted the hand of the young man onstage who helped pull her up. She grabbed a blue voice enhancer prism and the crowd quieted.

“Welcome everyone to one of the most important days of my life; my birthday!”

The crowd cheered.

“Now, most of you already know that I have no clue who my parents were.” The crowd didn’t respond. Amy’s sisters nodded. Runir and Amy looked at each other, and put a hand on Zoe’s shoulders. Zoe snickered and shrugged their hands off. She grabbed them by the shoulders and brought them in for a big hug – her head above theirs.

“But that’s alright, because I have always had a family in all of you!”

The crowd cheered again. Amy waved her hands to get them to calm down.

“But still, although I don’t remember exactly how I was born.” She shrugged it off and made a weird face. “It would be pretty weird if I did.” A few giggles escaped the crowd. “Which is why I trust my birth certificate. Anyway, thank you all for coming, I’m always glad the lava fields don’t actually keep people away. Hope you’ll have a fantastic night, there are enough rooms for everybody but make sure to clean up after yourselves tomorrow. Now let’s count it down!”

Symbols appeared on the tower, swiveling, and melting into one another to form a giant clock on the stone bricks. The second hand began ticking towards the twelve, echoing loudly across the shrine.

“10!” shouted Amy.

“9,” echoed the crowd.

“8,” said a young man and his sister.

“7,” bellowed Vandrake the dragon.

“6,” roared Terra, her hand around the fidgety Breize.

“5,” spoke Adriana, cutting the call she was getting from her marketing division.

“4,” muttered Solaron, her mind on the sister who was watching from the shadows.

“3,” whispered the sister from the shadows and the henchman by her side.

“2,” shouted Zoe, hands around the couple she’d come to call her parents.

“1,” cheered Lily and Runir, hands clasped together.

“0,” said the girl with a purple cat on her lap, watching the starry skies.

Fireworks shot into the air as the clock struck twelve, signaling the arrival of a new millennium. They lit up the sky, snaking up and bursting with exuberance and energy, energy that pushed the partygoers below into a frenzy. But although they were loud and could outshine the roar of the crowd, and although they were bright and could drown out the light of the stars, they came and went quickly.

They came in bursts, one after the other, ruling the skies for a brief moment before fizzling away. For that one split second, you could see the fury and you could hear the love, all the way from the flying islands of the Air kingdom to the floating marshes of the Water kingdom. So it was no surprise that you could see them from the foothills of the mountains, on a specific foothill, in fact, just outside a village in the North-Western edge of the Light kingdom.

That’s where the girl with a purple cat on her lap lay, watching the festivities occur on a screen outlined by the stars themselves. Where for others the lights of the fireworks were the only sign of the momentous occasion on top of the lava fields in the kingdom next door, for her it was static that obscured an otherwise seamless broadcast.

The cat raised its head and its ears flickered. Clare sat up and looked around. The screen above vanished as the stars dispersed. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, since they couldn’t see what she saw in the night skies.

“You’re here,” she said, addressing a tree a few feet from where I stood.

I walked up to the hill and sat down beside her. She kept facing the tree.

“I can’t see you in the sky anymore. You’re hiding from the stars. They won’t even show me where you were before, places I remember seeing you at. They won’t even show me what you look like.”

Waon jumped off her lap and stepped over to me. It reached my leg and tried to rub its head against it but went straight through the empty air.

“It’s almost like you aren’t even really here.”

I reached over and put a hand on the purple hellkitty. It purred although its fur never changed and my hands didn’t press its ears.

“This is your answer?” asked Clare, facing a few inches above my head. “You spend all these years, all those crazy repeating loops, those nonsensical journeys, and irrational patterns, just to make a world where you don’t exist? If this is all you wanted to do, you didn’t need to play games with us for so long. You didn’t need to play games with me for so long. Just fess up and say it, you’re too much of a wimp to admit you have no solution and can’t come up with a world that works for everyone, so you ran away from the question altogether.”

I waved a hand and the stars began to coalesce.

“How long do you think this world will last, huh?” asked Clare, unaware of what was happening above. “I admit its lasted longer than any other loop so far, but it’s nearing its end, isn’t it? You gave them longer lifespans, but they still have to die eventually. You gave them something to do, dreams to chase, problems to conquer, but they won’t last forever either. This world is just like the others. It will collapse and then you’ll make us all start over again, forever ad infinitum.”

The stars stopped moving.

“And no matter what happens, no matter what kind of world you make next, there will always only ever be one constant. Only one thing that stays the same no matter what.” She found my eyes this time, even if she didn’t know it, and glared straight into them. “You’ll avoid me, run away whenever I get close, never pick up my calls. You’ll never say a word worth anything and get chased off by a dragon or a clone or a demon or a talking sunflower. But no, I’m not having it. I give up. You can do whatever you want to do, make the world a torture dungeon for all I care, I will not get off this hill, ever.

She fell back onto the ground, grabbing Waon and putting it on her lap. She stared at the sky angrily and slowly realized there was something written in the stars.

“Hi,” she read.

The stars moved around again.

“Sorry, I couldn’t,” it read. They reformed.

“Bring myself to”

“See you”

“I was scared”

“After you died”

“I realized”

“My powers were”

“Limitless”

“I could do”

“Anything”

“I knew”

“Everything”

“Well”

“Not really”

“Because”

“I didn’t know”

“What I”

“Should do”

“Only what I”

“Could do”

“And would do”

“I tried not”

“To observe you”

“Because if I did”

“I would know”

“What I”

“Had to do”

“But I did”

“And now”

“It’s done”

“I’ve found”

“The best loop”

“The least worst”

“Story”

“The one that”

“Let me”

“Escape a bit”

“Of the guilt”

“In my heart.”

Lily turned back to me. “So you are running away!”

“Yes,” I said through the stars.

She shook her head and looked at me derisively. “I can’t believe it. All those experiments, toying around with people’s lives, playing with them like toys or lab rats, and in the end, the best you can do is run away.”

“Yes,” said the stars.

“You’re terrible.”

“Exactly,” said the skies.

“This world”

“Is better”

“Without me”

“Without my”

“Whims and”

“My fancies”

“And certainly”

“My jokes”

“I messed up”

“By running”

“From my”

“Problems in my”

“Old world”

“And wrapped you all”

“In a terrible”

“Terrible fate”

“I shouldn’t”

“Have run”

“If I hadn’t run”

“That time”

“Perhaps I could”

“Have stayed”

“This time”

“Although”

“I wouldn’t”

“Be here”

“If that”

“Hadn’t happened”

“Fine then,” said Clare. “Do whatever you want to. Run this least terrible loop forever, I don’t care. Nothing matters anyways.” She sat down, back to me, stroking Waon’s head.

“Actually,” said the stars again. She saw them change in the corner of her eyes and looked over.

“This isn’t”

“The least”

“Worst loop”

“The best”

“Possible loop”

“Requires one”

“Major change”

She stopped stroking Waon and brought her gaze at mine again. “It’s me, isn’t it.”

“Yes”

“Do I get a say in it?” she asked.

“Yes”

“But you already know my decision”

“Yes”

She breathed quietly for a while. The night dragged on, the party at the shrine was over, and everyone was asleep, greeting the new millennium with snores and dreams.

“Alright, but on one condition.”

“Sure,” said the skies.

“Talk to me.”

“I already am”

“No,” she said, sitting up. “For real. Talk to me, for real.”

The stars dispersed, forming the amorous night sky and ill-defined constellations that the people of Erath had grown accustomed to.

“Fine,” I said, letting her hear my voice. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me a story.”

“The one about the stars?”

“I’m sick of stars, tell me another one.”

“Okay,” I said, putting a hand under her head and letting her feel it. “The sun blazed, sending relentless waves of heat and light onto the thousands of people lined up below. The faint sound of crashing waves carried over the hot air, filling the ears of everyone present with a distant yet powerful roar…”

We sat under the sky as I told her a shortened version of the story she had lived through. It wasn’t as long and boring as she remembered, which was a good thing. Stories were meant to be enjoyable. I dropped in a few other perspectives too, to make the narration a little richer. She caught on to what was happening but didn’t interrupt, interested in how I’d tell the story. She’d pitch in some commentary from time to time; a quip about my hair or a jibe at my lackluster sense of humor, but for the most part, she sat back, petting Waon, watching the stars, listening to a washed-up video game developer tell a strange story that nobody in their right minds would ever appreciate, and when it was all said and done, and we came back full circle, she judged where my body would be based on the hand under her head and brought me in for a hug.

““0,” said the girl with a purple cat on her lap, watching the starry skies,” I finished, resting my head on hers.

“Kai…” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye Clare.” I closed my eyes and the sky became a sea of glowing stars and golden rain. But this time, she didn’t look impressed. This time, her eyes didn’t light up in excitement and wonder.

This time, her eyes swam with a little golden sea of their own. The world vanished in a stream of light and Clare was gone. I stood up, heart heavy, shoulders down, eyes on the skies. The skies were awash with color and light without a sun nor a moon to lord over them, only stars to shine, twinkle, flicker, and die.

cover idea 5

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Note: There will be a concluding post within the next 24 hours or so. Stay tuned!

them, only stars to shine, twinkle, flicker, and die.

71.0 Zero_Chapter 16: Undulating Hills

It was time. I rewrote the world again, bringing a tiny piece of code into existence. A hill appeared in the middle of the emptiness. I sat down on top of the hill, in the same position as I had all those years ago. Three figures slumbered on the side of the hill, caught up in dreams of both their own making and mine.

All of them woke with a jolt.

“Lily!”

“Amy?”

They hugged.

“Lily…”

“Runir…”

They looked at each other apprehensively.

“Is it really you?”

“You didn’t ask Amy that.”

“Yes but –”

“You!”

Runir’s voice was venomous. He’d spotted me. The others noticed me too. Lily scowled and Amy looked away. Runir stomped over, the other following closely behind.

“You son of a –”

He flinched as I turned. “As much as I love being insulted in colorful ways, I’d rather get this over with as fast as possible.”

Runir grabbed me by the neck. “You self-righteous asshole. You don’t get to say that!”

“I take it you’ve remembered everything, then.”

“You know we have,” said Lily. She put a hand on her head and said to the side, “He still won’t stop pretending.”

Runir let go of me. Amy and Lily stepped closer. I sat down again and told them to join me.

“So,” I said. “What’s your answer?”

“Answer to what?” said Runir.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah I do, just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“I knew you would do that.”

“I know you knew.”

“Stop,” said Lily. “This’ll go on forever.”

“It already has. Why hurry?” said Runir. “We have all the time in world.”

Looking at the emptiness around us, it wasn’t hard to conclude that he was right. Lily shrugged and sat down. Runir reluctantly followed. Amy didn’t.

“Come on Amy,” I said. “This discussion will take a while.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” she blurted out.

“I’ll get to that,” I said. “But please, take a seat.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“I’m getting tired of this,” said Runir. “If you know she isn’t going to agree, why the fuck do you keep asking?”

“Because, even if I know what she’ll say, it won’t happen until I’ve asked her that.”

“So you’re going to keep asking her even if it’s useless?” he asked.

“No, and that’s because it isn’t useless. It got you talking about why I acted as if I didn’t know anything despite being omniscient which in turn led me to telling you about how it wasn’t useless because it got you talking about –”

“Yes,” interrupted Lily. “We get it. So shut up and get on with it.”

“That was just to annoy you.” I smiled. Lily grimaced and I continued, “You’re all so testy. Lighten up, it’s all over now. I’m done playing games, it’s your turn now.”

“Oh, sorry for being testy, spending thousands of years in an endless loop tends to be a little annoying,” she said.

“It wasn’t a loop, things were different every time, weren’t they?”

“No, they weren’t,” said Amy.

“Well, not in the way that matters to you, I guess,” I said, quietly.

“The only difference was the world, not us,” said Runir.

“You reacted to each new world in a different way, didn’t you? I’d say that’s a big enough difference, besides, that was the point.”

“Okay, you know what,” said Lily, standing up. “Fuck this. This is what you do every fucking time. You skirt around the truth, say it was the point, or it was all for a greater goal or some other bullshit but you never, ever give a straight answer. I’m not having it. No more riddles, no more vague empty words that don’t mean shit. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Fine, what kind of answers?”

“What was the point of all this?” asked Runir.

“To get you to experience all those worlds.”

“But –”

“Shut up Runir,” interjected Lily. “You’re almost as bad as him, always asking those flowery questions that don’t get any real answers. Hell, maybe we’d know something about all this if you stopped trying to play his game.”

Runir raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. You lead.”

“Thanks,” she said. “First question, who are you?”

“Kai.”

“Fuck this.” She raised her tightened knuckles in frustration.

“Go backwards.”

“What’d you say, Amy?” asked Lily.

“He’ll keep giving you annoying answers until you do it the way he wants to,” said Amy, looking me in the eyes. “He obviously doesn’t want to start from the beginning, so ask him about what’s happening right now and work your way up.”

“You always did understand me the best, Amy,” I said, smiling. She looked away.

“Okay, how do I do that…”

“Let me try,” said Runir. “Alright Kai, where are we right now?”

“On a hill.”

“Okay, what are we doing right now?”

“Talking.”

“And why are you being a git?”

“Because it’s fun.”

Runir sighed. “Kai, we’re tired okay. Please, just give us some goddamned answers and you can go back to being a playful trickster god or whatever. Why do you even do that anyway? If you know what we’re going to do, doesn’t that ruin the fun of the prank? It’s like knowing the punchline of a joke before you hear it.”

“It’s my only source of enjoyment, to be honest. Think about it, even if you know that someone is going to sit on a whoopee cushion and you know what sound that cushion makes, it’s still funny when it happens.”

“No, this is more like seeing a video recording of someone sitting on a whoopee cushion for the thousandth time. How could that be funny?”

“From your perspective, it barely is. From mine, it’s the only bit of fun I can still have.”

“That kinda sucks, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I agreed.

“Good. At least the asshole’s bored.”

“That felt like a real answer,” said Lily.

“Because it was.”

“What, do you want us ask questions about what you do to fight boredom? Not high on my list of priorities, I’m afraid,” said Runir.

“No, I want you to ask me about which questions to ask.”

“Okay, which questions should we ask?”

“That one.”

“Fuck you,” he cursed.

“Why are you leading us around in circles?” asked Amy.

“And that one.”

“Answer it.”

“Because you were right, start from the end and I’ll lead you back to the beginning. Only thing is, there is no start nor beginning. It’s all one giant circle. Everything leads to everything else.”

“Okay, I think I get it now,” said Runir. “Even if it’s all a circle of answers, we can still choose to go in just one direction. We’ll end up where we began but at least we’ll have answers.”

“Okay, let’s try this again,” said Lily. “Where are we right now?”

“On a hill.”

“Why are we on the hill?” asked Runir.

“To ask me questions.”

“And why do we need to ask you questions?”

“To get the answers.”

“And why do we need to get the answers?”

“Because I don’t have them.”

Runir frowned. “You don’t have them? But you’re omniscient, you know what we’re going to say before we even say it. If you don’t have the answers, how could we?”

“I know the answers, but I don’t have them yet.”

“So we need to say them for you to get them.”

“Yep.”

“And why do you need the answers?”

“Because I don’t know.”

“You said that before,” said Amy. “At the end of every major loop, when I… when I locked you up, you said you didn’t know.”

“That was more of his tasteless pretending,” said Runir. “Just needed to say that so we’d react in a certain way.”

“No,” I said.

“No?”

“No, I said that because I meant it. I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” asked Lily. They were closing in, getting warmer. This was the inevitable point I’d always known they’d reach, the point of no return after which there was no coming back.

I took a deep breath, lowered my eyes, and whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” asked Runir.

“About everything.”

He frowned. Lily spoke before he could, “But you know everything, how could you –”

Finally, the question I’d been waiting for and dreading.

“Yes, I know everything that’s going to happen. I even know what I’m going to do, I even know what I could be doing. All the possible timelines and scenarios that could occur, I know all of them. But what I don’t know, and what I have never known, and what has plagued me and ailed me from the moment I sat on this stupid hill and rewrote myself to be omniscient, is what I should do.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious?” began Lily. “You should…”

“I should what?” I said, voice rising a little higher than I’d like.

Runir’s eyes widened. “That’s why…”

“Yes Runir, that’s why I did it. Because I didn’t know what to do with this world, with the powers I’d stupidly walked into, I decided to get your opinions on it.”

He cursed under his breath. “Why us?”

“I felt responsible for bringing you two here.” I gestured to Lily and him. “And Amy was the best option from the people in this world.”

“And why was I the best option?” she asked.

“You were the only one who would lock me in the Anomaly, no matter what.”

She grit her teeth.

“Okay, so you looped Erath so we could experience different versions of the world, is that right?” asked Runir.

“Yes.”

“What about the last sequence?” asked Runir.

“The ones with your perfect worlds?”

“Yeah, although Amy’s seemed to have a bit of a loop, they still weren’t looped the way Erath was.”

“Because Erath was meant to show off a few ways of running the world. For example, in the latest iteration, the Light kingdom was a feudalistic monarchy, the Dark kingdom a technocracy, the Water kingdom a corporate state, and so on. Every iteration had different characteristics, you remember the communist Fire kingdom and the anarchic Earth kingdoms from several iterations ago, don’t you?”

“So the perfect worlds were…”

“Your ideas of what a utopian world would have looked like, before the loops began.”

“When did the loops begin? So much has happened, I can barely tell,” said Lily.

“For you and Runir, it began the moment you were dragged to this world. For Amy, it began sometime after she left her shrine.”

“I saw Yunni and Jeffy die thousands of times,” she said. That had happened before the loops.

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t reply.

“Let’s talk about the perfect worlds then. Why was Amy’s wrong?”

“I never said it was. None of your perfect worlds were wrong.”

“You made us experience them in a biased way, of course you thought they were wrong!”

“No, I don’t know what’s right or wrong, damn it. And if you think Amy’s world wasn’t perfect then that’s your opinion.”

“You interfered with our worlds,” said Lily. “The cookies, the box, the candle, you put them in our worlds. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“I planted the box and candle with my stories, no rewriting involved. What you did with them is your problem. By the way, you brought the cookies in yourself.”

“Back to Amy’s world,” said Runir. “A normal life with everyone. Hell, she almost got married to you. How is that a bad thing?”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a bad world. The only reason it broke was because Amy herself had a problem with it, a problem she couldn’t reconcile with the way the world was supposed to work.”

“And that problem was?” asked Lily.

“Her guilt,” I faced her. “Thousands of iterations of Erath, and every time, she ends up betraying me and locking me up in the anomaly. And the last iteration wasn’t so bad, we only had sex once and it was a forced, artificial relationship, more for me than for her, but for some of those loops, we’d been together for years. Yet every single time, when given the choice, she would –”

“Enough! It’s not my fault. I had to do it, you wouldn’t bring back Jeffy and Yunni. I –”

“I don’t mind. It’s why I picked you in the first place, remember.”

“Why?” she asked. “If you had the power to pick me, why didn’t you stop me from locking you up? All you had to do was promise to bring back Jeffi and Yunni or say you couldn’t do it. One lie, you’ve lied worse than that. Just one loop, you could have done it in one loop.”

“No, I couldn’t. Your perfect world wouldn’t break without the guilt.”

“So you did influence our perfect worlds. You made them so they’d collapse on our heads,” accused Lily.

“No, I led them to highlight the theoretical flaws in the worlds you were building. A perfectly normal world where we all lived happily ever after, nobody died, and Amy and I got married, sounds great if you cut away everything leading up to it. Without the guilt of letting Jeffy and Yunni die or locking me up, of course you’d have a happy life. That doesn’t mean those things never happened, it just means you’re choosing to ignore them. But see, she could’ve done that at the end. Just throw away all that guilt and her world would never collapse!”

“So her world was perfect because she was ignoring the imperfections,” said Runir.

“Exactly. Think back to the second part of her series of perfect worlds. There she ignored our existence entirely and lived a life solving the problems of her people with Jeffy and Yunni. It was the perfect life of a goddess, the life she could have lived had they never died and we’d never existed. I’m sure the first part was the most telling. A world where only she existed, to willingly go into the Haze to experience the high of leaving it. Forget all your problems, cut away everyone else, and you’ll have a perfect world.”

Amy spoke, “It wasn’t perfect.”

“Your opinion.”

“I was blinding myself on purpose, running away from the reality of the things we had experienced. The pain and suffering I had endured. I was so willing to run away that I went all the way back to the Haze. Pathetic, I hate myself, I –”

“Shush, it’s not your fault. It’s a respectable train of thinking and I’m still not sure if it’s wrong. Why shouldn’t we all forget our troubles and live in a world of perpetual bliss? No need to think, just feel the pleasure for all eternity.”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t want it.”

“I don’t like it either,” said Lily. “But Runir’s world, what was his problem?”

“Rationality,” answered Runir. “That was what the world was based on and that was my problem with it.”

“You know your response is ironically quite rational,” I said.

“Screw you.”

“But you’re right, your perfect world was completely rational and with you in complete control. Quite vain, if I may add.”

“I wasn’t in complete control, those terrorists managed to beat me.”

“They only existed because you needed them. You needed the opportunity to exercise your rationality, to assert control. Vain, but vanity doesn’t have to be a sin.”

“So you’re telling me I broke my perfect world because it was boring?”

“And because rationality is irrational. That’s what led to the er… goat.”

“What was with the box?”

“The confines of rationality and self-containment, especially of the emotional kind. You realized the stifling nature of a rational society, and yearned for the ability to let loose, to do something outside of the box.”

“Of course,” he said dryly.

I shrugged. “Hey, it’s your world.”

“Also, why was the last iteration so different from the previous ones?”

“I’m sure you’ve already guessed.”

“The statues?”

“Yep.”

“So you didn’t put them there, after all.”

“I knew they were going to be there, I even knew what they would do and how they would effect you. I just have no idea how they got there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be omniscient?”

“They didn’t come from our world,” I replied. “I’m omniscient in this world, not Earth.”

“I see.”

“Okay,” said Lily. “My turn.”

“Your world was similar to Amy’s, you were with your loved ones – all still alive and immortal – and lived in a world of love and compassion. Like Amy, you cut out the painful parts.”

“So I did what Amy had done. I cut out the painful parts, willful ignorance.”

“Yes and no. You did that but it was different from what Amy did. She cut out her own guilt, her own conflicting emotions. What you cut out was an exterior sense of justice. You didn’t cut out the guilt of not being able to save Granny Nipa, you cut out the event itself. Then what you lacked was justice for it.”

“Why does it matter if it never even happened?”

“It only matters if you think it does, which you did.” I leaned closer so only she could hear. “You didn’t just want your mother back, you wanted to punish the corrupt officials who let her freeze to death on the street.”

Runir and Amy didn’t try to eavesdrop. This was the only part of Lily’s world I’d hidden from them. Lily nodded, she understood.

“Right, there’s a lot of stuff we could discuss. The thousands of iterations of all the six kingdoms of Erath and their pros and cons. We could talk about the differences in international relations and other structural differences or, like in your perfect worlds, we could talk about the smaller, interpersonal relationships and their differences, pros, cons and so on. We could talk about human greed and compassion. Recklessness and ruthless pragmatism. We could do all of that but it would take forever, and we’ve already lived through forever. Now I want your opinions.”

“On what?” asked Amy.

“Everything!” I gestured with hands opened wide. “How to construct this world. Should I make people immortal? Should countries exist? Should there be a central conflict to unite everyone and provide a sense of purpose? Should there be inequality to encourage competition, or a totally equal world where competition doesn’t feed anyone’s yearning for a purpose or reason for existence? I personally really liked the iteration of the Air kingdom with all the artists and musicians. We could go with an entire world like that. We could –”

“None of them are perfect, Kai,” said Lily. “All of them have their own problems. The Art country had so much art it lost all value.”

“Nothing is perfect,” I replied. “Which is why I need your help deciding which is the least imperfect.”

“We can’t do that,” said Runir. “There’s no way to quantify and compare these things. Any decision we make will be subjective, biased.”

“Exactly, that’s what I’m looking for. Your subjective opinion!”

“But Kai, what’s the point?”

“There is none, which is why we need to make one up.”

“That makes no sense.”

“We’ll make it make sense. Don’t you worry, just pick the world or system you think was the best and we can take it for a test run. Or you could make one on your own, it’s not like all the versions I showed you were the only ones. Choose something you definitely want in your new world, maybe something like immortality, and work from there.”

“Immortality does sound like a good place to start. Can’t think of much against it,” said Lily.

“It was a part of your world, of course you’d like it. But then again, do you want the people who killed Granny Nipa to be immortal too?”

“Sure, spend eternity in prison.”

“Really? You’d allow prisons? What if a bad person came to power and used that system to their advantage. Hell, they’d never die, they’d be an immortal tyrant.”

“We make a world where that can’t happen.”

“Okay, how? Do we set it up so that you’re in charge, like Runir was in his world? Let you be the benevolent dictator.”

“No, we don’t need to do that. Just make it so nobody is bad.”

“We did that in your world, Lily, if we make the bad people good, why would you need to punish them?”

“Damn it Kai, you said we could just pick a world and go.”

“Of course you can,” I said. “Just know what you’re in for, is all I’m saying.”

“Kai,” said Runir. “If you couldn’t pick something after all this time, why even ask for our opinions?”

“Because it was too much for me, okay? Do you know how I felt when I sat on this hill for the first time? I realized all the suffering in this world was my fault. All the people who died, all the pain they experienced, all of it was my fault for making this world the way it was. Not just because of the Fate thing; I ran that iteration without Fate, didn’t I? It wasn’t much better.”

“Wait, so you hated yourself for all the pain you made people go through,” said Lily. “And to fix it, you decided to make everyone go through more pain thousands of times? Sounds messed up to me.”

“That’s because after gaining omniscience, I realized that the pain didn’t matter. I could just fix it later.”

“Kai,” said Runir. “You’re not making any sense here. First you say you need our opinion because you couldn’t handle making the choice to condemn people to a world of suffering, then you say it doesn’t matter because you could fix it later. Where does the ball stop, Kai?”

“The ball stops with you telling me what kind of world you want!” I declared.

“You just want to thrust that burden on us, don’t you?” he asked.

“No, besides, don’t worry. I can just fix it later!”

“Then what?” asked Lily. She gestured aggressively with one hand. “Do we go through all this again? A pointless argument that keeps going in circles?”

“We’ll keep going until we reach a conclusive decision.”

“And what will that decision be? You already know what we’re going to choose, so why not just pick it already? In fact, why go through any of this. You could have just skipped ahead and chosen what we were going to choose.”

“No, see, I had to let you decide because –”

“Because you wanted to throw that burden on us,” finished Runir. “Admit it Kai, the only reason any of this is happening is because you don’t want to take responsibility for your actions.”

I raised an eyebrow. “This is how I take responsibility for my actions. By letting you decide!”

Runir frowned and spoke in a loud voice, “No, this is how you run away from feeling bad about everything you’ve caused or will cause in the future, by making us choose. It doesn’t serve any other purpose and you know it!”

“No, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

I didn’t respond. This was the part where I took a deep breath, admitted my own cowardice to myself, and proceeded to say…

“Sorry.”

“Apology not accepted.”

“That’s fine. But now that we’re here and everything has already happened…”

“Urgh,” yelled Lily. “I can’t take this, damn it. You knew you’d apologize, you could’ve stopped this. Hell, I’m sure you could go back and prevent any of this from happening in the first place.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want, I’ll go back in time and change the world to however you want it to be. None of this would have ever happened. It’ll be as if I looked into the future, saw this ending, and decided to skip straight to it. Happy?”

Lily’s mouth hung open but she didn’t say anything. She closed it and parsed her lips.

Runir spoke, “But that brings us back to the kind of world we want.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, so I think immortality should stay.” I was about to speak but he cut me off with a wave of his hand. “I heard the drawbacks but honestly, removing death is too big of a benefit in my eyes. How do you two think?”

“I agree,” said Lily.

Amy nodded.

“Okay, but I just wanted to ask if you think you’d value things if you were immortal.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” asked Lily.

“He means we only value things because they don’t last forever,” answered Runir. “Shakespeare said something along the same lines too. Spring is only valuable because of the winter, youth because of old age, and so on. I don’t think I buy it though.”

“It’s true, you experienced it in your world.”

“I got bored.”

“You stopped valuing things. Including your relationship with Lily.”

He frowned. “Fine, we change human nature then. Keep us valuing things forever.”

“That’ll lead to stagnation. Like the country of art, if we everything and we value it all completely then nothing stays valuable. If we lose the ability to recognize that then we’ll lose the ability to evolve and change too. If you were in a relationship, you’d stay in it forever! Amy over there would be stuck with a loser like me.”

She didn’t react.

Runir said, “I still think immortality is worth the stagnation. We don’t need to advance in a perfect world.”

“Assuming the world is perfect.”

“You said you’d pop us out of it if we didn’t like it.”

“How would I know if you didn’t like it in a world where I remove your ability to dislike anything?”

He thought for a second. “Damn it, I don’t know.”

“Immortality doesn’t work, living with your friends and family doesn’t work, giving yourself a fake purpose doesn’t work, drugs don’t work,” said Lily. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“Just pick something.”

“Every time we try to do that, you say something that fucks it all up!”

“No, I’m only telling you the problems with it. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah we have, because we keep going in fucking circles!”

She heaved, Runir massaged his forehead, Amy stood alone to the side, unresponsive. I took a deep breath. This was as confusing and useless as I remembered it would be. I felt the annoyance I’d felt then, as well as the echo of annoyance I’d known I’d feel about it. All my feelings had been magnified like that after I gained omniscience, which made them all feel less impactful, less meaningful.

“Look, just pick a few things you really, really want this world to have. Let’s start with something small, like chocolate and cookies! We can stop them being bad for you too, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem? Of course, they won’t be as enjoyable if we could eat them all the time, and maybe we’d get sick of them quite quickly but it’s worth a try! In fact, I know we’d enjoy a world with only chocolates and cookies for a very long time before it becomes annoying. Hey! Maybe we can keep cycling through these worlds forever, that could work. How about –”

“Kai…”

“Yes Amy?” I was breathing a little heavily.

“You know what I’m going to ask, don’t you?”

“Yep!”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

“Nope, I’m not.” I looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to say it on your own.”

“My loops started after Yunni and Jeffy died, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you said you couldn’t bring them back?”

“I did say that.”

Runir and Lily stared intently. The air was growing heavy.

“But they were there in my perfect world.”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“It was almost them.”

“Almost?”

I sighed. The second most painful thing I was going to talk about today. “Yes, almost.”

“What do you mean,” she said, face caught in a mirthless smile. “They were there. Exactly like I remember them. It was them, I could feel it. I –”

“They were Yunni and Jeffy as much as you are the Amy they knew.”

“I don’t understand. You’re telling me I’m not me?”

“You are you, but then who you are is not the same as the Amy from before.”

“I’m confused.”

“Took me a while too,” I said. “To explain this, I need to explain something else first. But it’s something I need to tell Runir and Lily.” I faced the two of them, who were caught unaware. “It might get a little private so it’s up to you if you want Amy to hear it.”

“You know our answers,” said Runir. Lily gave me an expectant look.

“Okay, she can stay. Just thought I’d ask. It’s the principle of the thing that matters.”

“Whatever,” said Lily.

“Runir Candela was shot on the roof of Fenbay high school just days from his graduation date. The assailant was taken into custody and sent to prison for life, mostly because he would not reveal what he had done with the body.”

Runir frowned. “I got summoned here, we already know that. Glad Stone got fucked for it though.”

“Lily Grayscale was beaten to death in front of Darby Superstore at the behest of the local gangs, while shoplifting. It took ten years for the case to reach the courts, spearheaded by a boy who saw the event transpire. The boy had felt so guilty for allowing it to happen he took his own life after he ensured the incarceration of the perpetrators.”

“Rusty…” muttered Lily.

“The body was never recovered.”

Amy shifted. Lily looked down.

“A young video game developer committed suicide by setting his house on fire. Needless to say, the body wasn’t found.”

“What was the point of going over that?” asked Runir. “We know the bodies weren’t recovered because we were transported to Erath.”

“No, Kai’s body was burned to ashes. Runir’s body fell through an open manhole cover into the sewers below. It was incinerated by the city’s automatic treatment center. Lily’s body was stored in a cold meat storage facility and disposed of in the sea.”

My words hung in the air. Amy’s eyes were stretched wide. Runir and Lily were speechless.

“You mean we’re dead?” asked Lily.

“No, the Kai, Lily, and Runir of Earth are dead.”

“But then who are we?” asked Runir.

“What they did find in Kai’s home were remnants of a banned artifact acquired through an extra-dimensional excursion carried out by the government. The exploration initiative was cancelled after all the teams were annihilated by the strange worlds they went to, but someone managed to smuggle a book back through the portals, a book that Kai Zero used to cast a powerful spell on the game he’d created. The spell created a copy of his personality and merged it with the code he had written, which is how I came to be. Later the spell copied a few more people who died near copies of the game.”

Runir asked, “So we’re all copies?”

“Kind of. See, I personally believe Earth didn’t have an afterlife either, and if that’s true, there is no difference between us and the people we were based on. We only died in the sense that our former selves don’t exist in the present, but that happens all the time. Every moment we live is like a past version of us dying and a new version coming into existence. If, however, there was an afterlife or a soul to be reincarnated, then yes, we are only copies.”

“So we don’t have souls?” asked Lily.

“No, and that brings me back to Amy’s question. The reason I said I couldn’t bring back Jeffy and Yunni, was because I couldn’t really bring anyone back. All I could do was recreate a perfect copy of them formed from the code that gave them their memories and personalities.”

“Wait, if that’s how your power works, does that mean you’ve been killing different versions of us in every loop and then making new copies?” asked Runir.

“No, after the loops began, nobody died. Even if they seemed to be killed, all that happened was I relocated their code instead of erasing it, which is how the world worked before the loops.”

“So Granny Nipa didn’t –” began Lily.

“The people we personally saw die, had already died outside the loops. The Ashfiend and Granny Nipa, both had their codes erased but preserved. The ones we met were copies.”

“I see,” said Lily, her voice trailing. It was confusing.

“So the Jeffy and Yunni in my perfect world –”

“Were copies, yes, although does being a copy even matter? In a world without a soul or distinctive consciousness attached to an individual, all these concerns are irrelevant. Are Lily, Runir or I any different from the Lily, Runir, and Kai of Earth? Apart from our abilities and new experiences, not really. My erasing Zoe’s memories could be akin to making a new copy of her! It doesn’t matter. Likewise, it doesn’t matter what world you choose.”

“If the world we choose doesn’t matter, why the fuck are we even having this discussion?”

“Because why not? I don’t have any better ideas for how the world should work. Life in this world has no meaning apart from whatever we choose to give it right now – assuming we decide to give it one at all.”

“You know what,” said Lily. “If you can just zip us back here, let’s just make another world and see how it goes.”

“Yeah, makes sense to me. Besides, nothing seems to matter when you can change literally anything,” said Runir.

“Exactly! Now pick a world and let’s get started!” I said, heart sinking. It was time.

“Alright,” said Amy, stepping forward and thrusting a finger at my chest. Hadn’t seen her this angry in a long time. Maybe back in that iteration where I claimed to have killed Jeffy and Yunni. “If we can’t have a perfect world, and nothing matters because you can make a new world if this one fails, I know exactly what kind of world I want first.”

“I feel like I know exactly what you’re talking about, Amy,” said Runir, grinning.

“Yeah, same,” said Lily, nodding resolutely.

I laughed. “Would you believe me if I told you I know what you’re about to say, too?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then if we’re all in agreement, it’s time for me to say goodbye.”

I prepared to trigger the keyword I’d prepared on the hill. But before that, I pushed the others away, opened a door behind me and opened it. I was a sucker for theatricality, even if no one would remember it.

“Nothing really matters,” I said over the roar of nothingness swirling around the hill. The others braced themselves against the winds, looking at me from the bottom of the hill with narrowed eyes and nervous expressions. “Since there is no absolute objective truth, I figured I might as well tell a little white lie to get my friends to agree to something painful but necessary.”

“What are you saying?” yelled Runir with an arm over his head.

“Well it wasn’t a lie, really. I just forgot to mention something.”

“Kai,” shouted Lily. “What the fuck are you trying to pull now?”

“Nothing,” I replied, one foot inside the door. “It’s just that, even if I can bring us all back here if you don’t like your new world, it doesn’t mean I will.”

Runir and Lily looked surprised but Amy was absolutely horrified.

“No, I take it back! I don’t want that world after all, I –”

“Don’t worry Amy,” I whispered as the world went silent. “You’ll be fine.”

“No!” she raced up the hill, Lily and Runir hot on her heels. The edge of the hill where they’d been, began to fade into nothingness.

“Kai, you lousy piece of shit.”

“Love you too, Lily.”

“Kai, we can talk this through, don’t –”

“I already know what we’re going to talk about, Runir. And you were kinda right at some point, I did all this so I wouldn’t feel guilty about what I was about to do. But I also did it so I could make some fun memories with you guys.” I stepped through the door, looked back at them appearing over the crest of the hill and smiled. “Thanks for everything guys, I’ll remember you forever.”

I waved. They shouted and cursed. Amy was crying, Lily was fuming, and Runir’s face was contorted in thought. The door shut as I whispered,

“Goodbye.”

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70.0 Ignis_Chapter 13: Mixed Feelings

I rubbed my eyes, and stretched. The candle was burning on the nightstand but the light from the window drowned its subtle, orange glow. Yawning, I made breakfast – toast and eggs, just what I needed. I washed the dishes, swept the floor, wiped the table, and snuck a bite of pie before noticing the time on the sundial and running out the door.

I cursed. I’d forgotten to put out the candle! It’d die by the time I was back. Ah well, I’d just have to buy a new one on the way back. No time to go back; I was late, had to take drastic measures.

I jumped off the cliff. Wind jostled my hair, made my cheeks flutter and my eyes burn, but I kept my knees bent and my back straight. The ground rumbled as I stuck a perfect landing and resumed running. I slid into the gates, breathing heavily. Patting down my hair and fixing my shirt, I climbed the steps to the crimson tower. I knocked on the door to my room and waited three seconds.

“There you are!” I said, as I entered the room. I hopped onto the stone podium.

“Right, let’s get this started,” I said, arching my back, and closing my eyes.

Purple vapor flooded the back of my eyes. My eyes were shut tight, but I could see the floor, walls, ceiling, curtains, pedestal; all an aggressive shade of red that cut through the purple mists.

Ping!

The warmth in my chest receded, driven back by an apathetic chill. My senses went behind the veil; I could see, touch, listen, smell, taste, but I couldn’t process any of it.

And finally, I felt nothing. No heat, no cold. No pain, no joy. No sorrow, no happiness.

It took a while for the unease to set in – it always managed to burrow its way through the haze eventually – but when it came, I panicked like always. I was a cog in the machine, an unfeeling gear. I barely existed at all and relished the moment something tinkered with me, with my soul, changing parts of me without any regard for what I wanted.

It was horrifying, but it was necessary. Because without this, I wouldn’t have what came after. The sweet, sweet release.

The purple mist dispersed, my senses returned, and a wave of warmth washed over me. I gasped for air like I was drowning, flailed, and tripped on my own pedestal. When I hit the floor with my head and the pain shot through me, nearly choking me, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it because even though it was a painful experience, it was something, and anything was better than the haze.

My breath calmed after an hour or so on the ground. The room was dark, save for the silver glow behind the curtains. As usual, I’d been out all day. I straightened my clothes, took a deep breath, and went down the staircase. The walk home was always more fun; wind on my skin, moonlight on the creeks and streams, and the scent of the forest and the mountains. It was all so clean, so pure, so real; I loved it.

Opening the door, I realized I’d forgotten to pick up another candle. At least the windows were open, letting in all that silvery goodness. Then again, I never opened the windows in my bedroom so it was probably dark in there.

I threw off the coat, slipped out of my shoes, and grabbed something to drink before reading a book by the window facing the moon. It was a good book although I didn’t remember how I’d gotten it. Then again, since when did that matter.

“Pagebreak,” was its name. Silly name for such a serious book but perhaps that was fitting. I closed it before I could start reading, because the clouds had covered the moon and I was drowsy. Time to go to sleep in the dark.

I opened the door to my room – perhaps I could keep the door open to let the moonlight in. Perhaps I could open the curtains like a normal person. Or perhaps I needn’t do any of that because the candle was burning just fine, flickering and dancing, and casting all sorts of shapes on the walls. It hadn’t gotten any shorter either, nor had any wax melted off to make weird bulges and pools on its sides and bottom.

I settled into bed, pulled the covers over myself, and gazed at the candleflame. The shadows on the walls were dancing but I had no idea what they were trying to do. Was that the silhouette of a little girl? Wasn’t me, but then who else could it be?

Who could it be? Who?

Another figure danced around the pronged sun. A little boy, his figure blurred and hazy. He danced around the flames with his sister – why sister – and someone else – a taller figure I didn’t recognize.

The flame flickered to the side, engulfing the taller figure in darkness. The wind blew, driving the flame further away, making it grow tiny, insignificant. The girl lagged behind, she wasn’t going to make it.

The boy came back, pushed the girl away. More wind, and he was gone. The tall figure came back, too late, too little, too insignificant. Even when the wind settled, the girl’s figure began to fade until only the tiny tall one was left.

The wind blew and I fell asleep.

“Wake up!”

I groaned and turned.

“Come on, don’t be lazy.”

The back of my eyelids lit up. I buried my face in the pillows.

“Want me to bring the bucket?”

“I’m up, I’m up,” I grunted, rubbing my eyes. I stretched and opened my eyes.

“Honestly,” said Yunni. “It’s getting harder to wake you up.”

“No, it’s getting harder to ignore you,” I replied.

“Whatever, breakfast’s ready. Wear something decent before coming down, will you?”

“Whatever,” I said. The door shut and her footsteps faded.

I threw my blanket off and changed into a long, red robe. The curtains had been flung open viciously, flooding the room with sunlight. The poor candle in the corner could barely shine. I fixed my bowtie in the mirror, brushed my hair, washed my face, and went downstairs.

“Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, Jeffy,” I said.

“They’re waiting for you outside,” he said, jabbing his finger at me. “Just get out there already.”

I nodded, tousled the angry little boy’s head, and left the tower.

“… she’ll be here any minute now. She’s – there she is!”

“Sorry for the wait, everyone,” I said, walking on stage.

“I’ve been stalling for fifteen minutes,” hissed Yunni as she stepped down and wiped her brows. I made an apologetic face only she could see.

“Right,” I said aloud, causing the seething mass of people below me to hush immediately. “How can I help you today?”

Only one voice spoke, “I have a headache.”

I snapped my fingers. “Next.”

“My cat’s missing.”

Snap. “Next.”

“Sore throat.”

“Icky food.”

“Tight heels.”

Snap. “Next.”

I spent the whole day there, fixing the tiniest of problems the people of the world had brought to me. The crowd thinned out eventually, and by the time the sun set, there were only a few people left.

“Will she love me?”

“Ask her yourself.”

“Should we have the baby?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“Should we break up?”

“Still love each other?”

“Not really.”

“Got any kids?”

“No.”

“Go ahead.”

And with that everyone went home. I wiped my forehead and descended from the stage.

“You did great,” said Yunni. I smiled and hugged her.

“Thanks, Yunni, you’re the best.”

“Hey!”

“You too, Jeffy.” I hugged him.

Back in my room, I took off the elaborate yet comfy robe and jumped into bed. I snapped my fingers and the curtains closed gently, just waiting to be thrust apart by an annoyed little girl. The only light came from the candle, burning brightly and steadily on the nightstand.

It cast shadows on the walls; a tall figure, all upright and proper, a girl and her brother, dancing in a circle. Had to be a circle, of course.

But there were more this time. Another girl – taller, brighter – danced on the other side of the room. With her was a boy with a gap in his face – a smile, perhaps. Another, much smaller figure with strings, no, chains, flying around her tiny arms.

I went to sleep staring at the last figure, a black blob in the shape of a boy. The darkness of unconsciousness took me but not before I could blur the boy’s figure inside my vision.

I woke with a jolt. “Get off me,” I shouted with the little breath left in my lungs.

Snickering, the little devils ran away.

“Damn it, just you wait,” I said, crawling out of bed, bleary-eyed.

“You weren’t waking up.”

“Doesn’t mean they can jump on me.”

“Of course, it does.”

“Get out of here, Lily.” I threw a pillow at her.

“Fine, fine. Just get down in time, will you? Being late to your own big day would be the worst.” She didn’t shut the door on her way out.

I rubbed my eyes and the room swam into view. Same red curtains, walls, floors, and door. Maybe a change in décor was in order. That candle in the corner was an eyesore too. Then again, I probably wouldn’t be staying here much longer. I stretched and yawned. Nothing beat a good night’s sleep, it was the best feeling in the world. The getting up part I could live without.

After getting ready, I made my way downstairs. Outside the windows on the stairs, the sun had only just risen so it was still dark. Getting up early was always such a pain, but today wasn’t the time to complain. It was a big day after all, the big day.

“There she is,” said Zoe as I reached the ground floor.

“You little rascal,” I said, trying to catch her.

She ran, giggling. “Your fault for sleeping in.”

“I wasn’t sleeping in!” She was too far away to hear.

I sighed. Whatever. Making my way to the kitchen, I ran into Runir.

“Hey, you ready for today?” he asked. “That bed-hair will look great in the photos.”

I glared and tried to mat down my unruly strands. “I’ll take a bath in a bit. Is Lily making breakfast?”

“Yep.”

“Goddess help us all.”

“Sure, get on that, will you?”

“Where you headed?”

“Gotta set up the stage.”

“Good luck.”

In the kitchen, Lily stood over a boiling pot.

“Have some!” she said, trying to pour me a bowl.

“I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Fuck no, can’t go on an empty stomach.”

“It’ll just come back up, anyways.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m so nervous I couldn’t keep it down.”

“Damn, makes sense. Must be all jittery and fluttery inside, huh.”

“Yep, you should try it sometime.”

“No way, we’re not there yet.”

“Oh come on, you might as well be.”

“Damn it, fine, go eat an apple or something.”

“Okay.” I ate an apple.

We waited in the kitchen for a while, me munching on an apple and Lily ignoring the sludge in the pot. At least she wasn’t going to try and eat it herself, wouldn’t want her sick today – she had duties to perform.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, softly.

“Imagine how I feel.”

“Seems like just yesterday we were in the bushes.”

“Yeah, I was such a piece of work back then.”

“Good thing you loosened up, huh.”

“Totally.”

“It’s almost over.”

“What is?”

“I dunno, just felt like something’s ending.”

“Well, it’ll be the start of something new, too.” I threw the apple core away. “Right, time to get prettied up.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, I’ve got this.”

I went into the back room and looked at myself in the mirror.

This was it; the big day. Gotta look pretty, embrace the goddess inside, Aia. Embrace the goddess!

I took a bath, soaking for an hour in the tub full of lukewarm water. I let my hair drift on the surface before diving in and holding my breath. I scrubbed every last corner and took a shower for good measure. Dousing myself in perfume and covering my face in makeup, I looked at myself in the mirror with trepidation. I had to look the part, had to be the Fire Goddess for just one day. Not like it’d impress him, it was just a ceremonial role, after all.

I puckered my lips. Maybe lipstick wasn’t a good idea, just in case I messed up on stage. I wiped it off but then my lips looked weird. Lip balm was a decent compromise.

I blow-dried my hair with a little magic Runir had taught me – the guy was a genius. I brushed it with long and short strokes, as recommended by Lily. Never had to deal with messy hair before, to be honest. No idea why, it was always just perfect. I’d hated it.

I stared at myself in the mirror, slapped my cheeks, and took a deep breath. This was it. I donned a bathrobe and came outside. A few dresses were laid out on the bed, ironed to perfection. The laces were frilly and the frills, lacy. Breathtaking.

I wore it gingerly, afraid I’d bend a string or fold a crease. Probably didn’t have to worry, Adriana said this was the best dress in existence. She wasn’t the kind to lie so it probably was. All the more reason to treat it carefully, then.

I checked myself out in the full body mirror Lily had left by the dresser. I held my breath, it was too surreal. Was that really me? All this white suited Solaron better, I thought. I need a dash of something else, something more me.

I rummaged in my cupboard. Where was it, where was it? Ah, there it was. I pulled it out and tied it in my hair. In front of the mirror once again, I twirled.

“Looking good,” said Yunni.

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you!” I said, tottering over to her.

She chuckled and stepped out of the way. “Don’t wanna ruin the dress.”

I growled. “Once I’m out of this thing, I’ll –”

“Be too busy to worry about anything else?” she finished. “Don’t worry, I doubt I’ll be waking you up anytime soon.” She giggled. I frowned. “Now come on. Runir’s calling, it’s time to head out.”

I sighed and caught a glance of myself in the mirror one last time. As long as things went as perfectly as I looked, it would be fine. Out in the flying car, Runir, Lily, Zoe, Yunni, and Jeffy were waiting impatiently. I sat shotgun; couldn’t let my dress wrinkle. We left the shrine as the clouds covered the sun.

Huge, and with so many people too! The butterflies in my stomach were throwing a party and I could barely stand. There was that gnome, and the kids from the Academy. The kids from Ashpoole too, boy was that a long time ago. A dragon lay around the marquee; I’d thought he was part of the scenery. Might as well be.

My sisters ushered me into a secret room. Couldn’t let them see me just yet.

“You look gorgeous,” said Adriana.

“Love the hair,” gushed Opal.

“The dress fits you perfectly. Damn, I’m a little jealous,” said Lunaris.

“You’ll have your time,” I said. “Probably,” I added under my breath. She punched me playfully.

“Settle down, don’t want to ruin your perfectness,” said Breize.

“Baby girl’s all grown up,” said Solaron, sniffling. Never pegged her for the sentimental type.

“Hey, we’re the same age.”

“Sure.”

I shook my head. We chatted for a little while until they finally left me alone, a few minutes before the ceremony. I sat behind the mirror, marveling at what looked back in me. Not to sound full of myself but I couldn’t find a single flaw. Perfect face, no wrinkles, no bags under my eyes, skin so smooth you could roll a stone over it. Hair sitting just right – no loose ends or knots or whatever. Earrings matched the dress, dress matched the shoes, and everything tied together by the big red ribbon in my hair.

Perfect, it was perfect.

“It’s time,” said Lily from outside.

I took a deep breath and gave myself one last glance. I got up to leave and reached the door but hesitated. I looked at the mirror again. The room had no windows and only one candle burning bright in the corner, so I could barely see myself. But it was enough.

I tousled the front of my hair a little. A few strands came loose, hanging over my forehead. I smiled and left the room.

“Looking great – oh, wanna fix that up?”

“No, I’m good. Let’s go.”

We walked down the red carpet, my long gown trailing behind me. The guests stood up and clapped, even the dragon roared joyfully. Music played, a long, ceremonial song I’d never thought could be so moving, so emotional. I almost teared up on the way, but Lily’s strong arm on mine and the enormity of the occasion held them back.

In the distance, on the other side of the long walk, I saw him. In a tux and tie, no glasses, which made him look odd, but in a good way. He laughed nervously. I wasn’t the only one with butterflies, I reckoned.

It was getting late and the dipping sun was hidden behind the clouds. They lit the candles, hundreds of them all over the place. Breize’s contraptions with a little bit of fire magic, wonderfully convenient. They lined the carpet, hanging over people’s heads. The walk seemed to take forever yet it was over too soon.

He grabbed my hand and we met each other’s eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“You look okay too,” I said, mischievously. His smile broadened.

“Come on, I wanna eat cake,” said Zoe from behind me. I shot her a furious glance.

“Now, now, settle down,” said Solaron from in front. “Time to begin.”

The crowd hushed. Kai squeezed my hand.

“You have known each other for a long time,” said Solaron. “Through thick and through thin, through snow and throw rain, you have supported and loved each other. Do you promise to continue your love for each other, to look beyond your partner’s vices and shortcomings and cherish them for who they are?”

“I do,” we both said, together.

“You are imperfect, we all are, yet do you promise to not ignore each other’s imperfections but to love and acknowledge them. To recognize your own and seek your partner’s help in overcoming or coming to terms with them?”

“I do.”

“And finally, despite what happens; whether the candles burn out, the sun disappears, and the world is wrought with unrest and despair, do you promise to stick by one another, to stand together and face the difficulties of life, whatever they may be.”

“We do.”

“Then by the power arbitrarily invested in me as the Light goddess, I now proclaim you husband and wife. You may now –”

A burst of wind interrupted us. I looked around. The dragon was gone, had it taken flight to arrange some fireworks? Vandrake was a jumpy one.

The candles were out so it was dark. I couldn’t see anyone in the seats below. I turned to Lily, had to tell her to get Breize to light up the place again.

But she wasn’t there. Probably already off to fix it. The moon wasn’t up yet but the sun was down. There was just enough light for me to make out Kai’s outline, a shadowy silhouette looking at me. I couldn’t even see Solaron.

Oh yeah.

“Solaron, a little light would be appreciated.” Odd, not what I’d wanted to say. My words felt a lot stuffier, all of a sudden.

No reply.

“Solaron?”

A single candle came to life, the only candle on stage. It flickered brightly, casting shadows around the marquee. Figures in a forest, one of them sleeping behind a bush. A tornado, then a blanket. A crumbling cliff. A boat. A flying island.

A Ferris wheel, but with only two figures. A little girl in the distance. Another boat now, two figures talking. A tea party, a wall of darkness. Flying off, the two meeting again.

A mountain. Two figures merging. Falling down the mountain. A cave. A bubble. One of them was inside, begging for help. The other reached for the bubble but didn’t pop it. No, she made it go dark, dark and solid.

Then a bridge.

I looked at Kai, eyes heavy. “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t see his face, even though I wanted to, oh how I wanted to. No matter what he said, I could tell what he really thought if I could just see his face. That’s all I needed, a quick peek, a lightning flash, the candle flickering the right way – something.

“Me too.”

“All I want,” I sobbed. “Is you. You and Lily, and Runir, and Zoe, and Jeffy, and Yunni, and my sisters. All I want is a normal life with everyone.”

The moon was rising behind him, making the outline starker but the silhouette darker. The candle burned rapidly, wax dripping like a river. A puddle of hot liquid formed but never cooled. The candle kept burning and burning and burning.

The world kept growing darker and darker and darker.

“That’s all I wanted.”

The candle died.

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69.0 Candela_Chapter 20: Solved Game

“Where should I leave the box, sir?”

“On the table.”

The deliveryman placed the black box on the table and left without a word, closing the door quietly without being a nuisance. I didn’t get up to open it since I had better things to do. Like watch TV. There was only one channel, but I didn’t mind. There was always something good to watch, without the pain of having to choose.

The screen flickered to life, revealing my favorite reality TV show. A group of philosophers and academics were about to challenge an obstacle course, but first, they had to design the course together.

“Let’s keep it easy so everyone can finish,” said an old man with a grey beard. “If we can reduce pain and maximize pleasure, that is the best course of action.” The old man chuckled while everyone else groaned.

“Your ideas are as terrible as your jokes, old man, and nearly as ancient as your utilitarian reasoning,” said a young man in an apron. “I say we make it as difficult as possible so only the best and most physically qualified amongst us will win.”

“I agree with the idea of making it challenging, but testing physique among a group like ours seems like a missed opportunity,” said a middle-aged woman in a pink dress. “We are, first and foremost, a group of intellectuals, so I suggest we make an intellectually challenging course.”

“How would we even begin to test each other’s intellectual abilities, considering the diversity of fields we represent?” asked a lady wearing a monocle.

“A test of logic!” proposed a woman in a leather jacket.

“What kind of test and what kind of logic?” asked the old man with a beard.

“A written test testing empirical logic,” suggested the young man in an apron.

“Peer reviewed theses,” said the middle-aged woman in a pink dress.

“A debate!” said the professor.

“A debate?” echoed the woman in a leather jacket. “The idea is intriguing but who would be the judge?”

“Get a few people from the organizers. Maybe the producer of the show and his assistants?” suggested the bearded guy.

“What qualifications do they have to judge us? Besides, there’s a clear conflict of interest there. Their decision will ultimately hinge on what they deem will get them the best ratings,” said Pink-dress.

“How about leaving it to the public? And to pre-empt any concerns over the stupidity of the masses, I say what is the point of what we do if it isn’t useful to the layman?” said Monocle.

“No, the masses are fickle and easy to manipulate with rhetorical flourishes and theatrics. Content matters not in a debate judged by the average joe because he relishes logical fallacies instead of abhorring them,” said Apron. “Besides, they are barely capable of understanding the light discourse we are having right now, how will they fare once we shift to denser vocabulary and more complex concepts?”

“Well, how about we judge each other then?” said Leather-jacket.

“A jury of our peers. I like that.”

“Agreed.”

“Seems we have consensus on the means of judging,” said Leather-jacket. “But what about the topic?”

“Mathematics is the root of everything, so let us debate whether the Collatz conjecture can be disproven,” said Apron.

“That question seems to have more to do with philosophy and logic than with mathematics,” said Monocles. “I say we choose a philosophical dilemma, but one with a clearer, less abstract solution. The producer is signaling that we need to keep our debate brief.”

“I know!” said Pink-dress. “Let’s talk about society. Isn’t it fitting that our ideal obstacle course be a debate about our vision for an ideal world?”

“Yes! It’s nearly a veil of ignorance!”

I turned off the TV. Enough dilly dallying, time to get to work. I opened a door to the side.

My office was empty, save for a chair, fireplace, and desk. No silly portraits adorned the walls nor were there any useless rugs covering the mahogany floorboards. The telephone on my desk rang as I sat.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning sir,” said my secretary over the phone. “Your schedule is empty again once again. All macro and micro economic indicators are in your favor. The people are happy and the world is perfect.”

“Thank you, Debby.”

“Have a good day sir.”

I hung up. My feet were on the desk. I pulled open a drawer, took out a video game controller, and pressed a button. A screen materialized in front of me. I proceeded to shoot zombies for the rest of the day. After finishing the game, I left things as they were – I had people to clean up after me – and left the office.

I smiled as I entered the living room. “Welcome home!”

We kissed. She put down her bags, and lay on the sofa. I sat beside her.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“The usual.”

“Good,” said Lily as she moved closer. The sofa became a bed as we made love.

Later in the night, Lily’s head on my arm, and her sleeping face next to mine, I turned the TV on to see how far the intellectuals had gotten.

“A world based on empathy is a perfect world,” said Beard. “If everyone avoids doing what will harm others simply because it will cause harm, there will be no more conflict.”

“What if harm is inevitable? Who bears it if everyone is trying to take it upon themselves?” asked Pink-dress.

“We distribute it equally.”

“Assume that is not possible. That only one toe may be stubbed.”

“Then we randomize it.”

“Why not stub everyone’s toes? That’s more in line with your egalitarianism.”

“But that increases the overall pain in society.”

“Okay, but then why randomize it?”

“What do you mean?”

“If someone’s toe is larger and will therefore hurt more, should they be as likely to get a stubbed toe as someone with a sturdier but less plump toe? It would reduce the overall pain in society if we had that person take it,” finished Pink-dress. Beard went silent, stroking his facial hair in contemplation.

“My ideal world is better,” said Apron. “Because in my world, we would stub the toe of the one who feels the least pain. My world wouldn’t be based on empathy but on rationality. Cold, emotionless, logic. Let reason drive everything, I say!”

I turned off the TV and went to sleep. Dreaming of boxes and statues, I pulled myself out of my dreams once they became too absurd. Lily’s smiling face greeted me as I awoke.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning,” I replied.

Back at the office, I picked up the phone that rang as I sat. “Morning.”

“Morning sir,” said Debby. “Your schedule is empty and everything is perfectly rational, once again. The economy is growing just as you predicted. People’s lives are functioning the way you said they would.”

“Thank you, Debby,” I said. I was about to hang up but a thought came to mind. “How is Zoe?”

“Your daughter is performing well in school. She is on track to achieve all the standards you set for her by the end of the semester.”

“I see.” I nodded my head lightly and listened to the noise of my own breath echoing over the phone.

“Will that be all sir?”

“Debby.”

“Yes sir?”

“Is everything really perfect?”

“Yes sir, everyone is sensible and everything is orderly.”

“I know it is, but… never mind. Thank you, Debby.”

“Have a good day, sir.”

I swiveled on my chair and looked out the windows. The sky was blue and the grass was green. The hedges were trimmed so well they lined the edges of the yard like a green brick wall. The lawn was mowed evenly. The fountains flowed without a splash, every drop hitting the walls of the marble bowls at just the right angle. I mulled Debby’s words; everyone is sensible and everything is orderly.

A robot flew into an apple tree. It harvested all the fruit and whizzed away, slicing them en route to the kitchens. I turned on the TV. The intellectuals were still debating.

“But a world of rationality would lack the human experience that only irrationality can provide,” said Leather-jacket.

“No, we would simple redefine the human experience. One where surprises aren’t welcome and logic takes precedence over feelings. That is not to say that emotions would no longer exist, just that when faced with the decision of doing what was right and what felt right, people would choose the former,” said Apron.

“But how would they define what was right, if not from their subjective opinions and emotions?”

“Easy, logic.”

“You’re a child,” said Pink-dress. “Logic functions between premises but those premises need to exist in the first place for logic to function. We need to make a subjective evaluation of right and wrong before we can even begin to apply logic.”

“Sure,” said Apron. “Which is why we need to just go ahead and pick one.”

“Pick one?” said Monocle.

“Yes.”

“How? If you agree that morals are subjective that means we won’t be choosing which morals to use as the basis of our reasoning, but whose.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Apron. “We choose one conception of morality and make it apply to everyone! And deciding whose morality to apply is the easiest part.”

I turned off the TV. I needed to get some fresh air. Take my thoughts for a walk. I jumped out the window. My guards looked at me but didn’t move. I landed on the path, nodded to them, clasped my hands behind my back, and walked.

The weather was just right. The sun was shining brightly but not too brightly. A few wispy clouds hovered in the sky, granting shade in stripes along the ground. Birds flew in V’s heading in the same direction, the direction I was walking in.

There was a pond in the backyard, where we kept some fish. I stopped, not because of the fish popping out to swallow insects, but because of the sand on the banks. There was a deep hole in the sand, with specks trailing away from the pond. Someone was stealing sand? Odd target. Made no sense. Irrational, even.

I followed the trail of sand out of the lawn. A guard stared at me for a while but said nothing. The sand piled up outside my front door. I opened it, sending the pile of sand flying into the wind. The clouds thickened overhead.

There was no sand inside. That made no sense, the trail had been growing thicker, how could it vanish so suddenly? I searched the room, checking under the rugs and between the sofas. I couldn’t find a speck of sand or dust; the place had been cleaned meticulously. A robot whirred to life behind me, sweeping up the dirt I’d dragged in.

I grabbed the robot and checked its memory banks. It had recorded the last three spots it had stopped at to recharge. From the corner by the fireside it went to the socket beside the door before plugging itself under the table in the front of the room, which is where it had been before it came to wipe my footsteps. I released the robot.

The black box lay on the table, untouched since yesterday. Its sides weren’t as smooth as I had assumed, with little markings carved into them. Some sand stuck to the engraving on the side facing the wall. I turned that side toward me and frowned. A triangle, a couple of squares, and a few broken lines. What was that supposed to be? The sand hadn’t filled in all the cracks so I traced it with my hands.

A castle, it was a castle. Something surfaced in my mind but I fought it back. Dreams were irrational, they had no place in a perfect world. I picked up the box. It was heavier than I’d thought it’d be. All its sides had a castle engraved in them except for the top, where there was only an arrow pointing to a flap.

My phone rang. Odd, nobody ever called me. There was never a need to. I reached into my pocket and put the phone against my ear. “What is it?”

“Sir.”

“Debby? What’s the matter?”

“Sorry to disturb you sir, but your presence is urgently requested in the Oval office.”

I started walking. “Details, Debby.”

“Nukes, sir.”

I cursed. “We got rid of those years ago. I made sure of it.”

“It’s Square, sir. They managed to build one from scratch. They’re threatening to blow up –”

The door to my office swung open, revealing a bunch of people in suits and uniforms. They stood, I waved them down.

“– Babel. They’re on the bridge right now, demanding to speak to you,” finished Debby, who stood beside my desk.

“Thank you, Debby. Luna, what have you got for me?”

“Sir, we thought Square had been eradicated but it seems they were hiding in the Wastelands, building this weapon.”

“Are we sure it’s nuclear?”

“Our scouts ran radiation detection magic and all of them came up several times higher than average. Even if it isn’t as powerful as the weapons of old, it is definitely radioactive.”

I cursed. “None of this leaves this room. Suppress the news, detain all the traders on either side, I don’t want the public to panic.”

“It’s too late,” said someone.

“Azoth, don’t tell me…”

My Vice President turned on the TV. Instead of bickering intellectuals, a newsreel greeted me.

“The terrorists have closed off the Bridge of Babel with threats of a nuclear bomb, one they claim to have manufactured themselves from their secret base in the Wastelands. The Black House has yet to respond to the terrorists’ demands but we at ElHydro News have been assured that the President is preparing to deal with the threat.”

“Thank you, Adriella. That was Adriella from the foot of the Bridge of Babel, where terrorists from Square are threatening to detonate a bomb unless the President of Erath concedes to their demands. I’m Opis Lazuli, and you’re watching, ElHydro News.”

Azoth turned off the TV.

“It’s sad that I have to find out about this shit from the television,” I said. “Where are my intelligence reports? How did we miss any sign of this?”

“We aren’t sure, sir, but we believe they snuck into a caravan and rode it straight onto the bridge.”

“And no one checked the caravan?”

“They must have, but no one would have thought to run radiation detection magic on a random caravan.”

“A random caravan? They had a nuclear bomb in their caravan. I’d imagine it would at least look strange enough to contact the intense vetting agents at the borders.”

“Unfortunately, sir,” said Azoth, handing me a piece of paper. “The bomb does not look threatening in any way.”

I eyed the picture in front of me, my mouth frozen agape. “This…”

Silence hung over the room. My phone rang, breaking me from my stupor.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Runir,” said Lily. “They have Zoe!”

I turned on the TV.

“ElHydro News has obtained footage of the terrorists from our airborne drones. There appear to be three terrorists and a hostage. The bomb is housed in a black box the size of a car. The terrorists are wearing the signature Square masks, while the hostage has yet to be identified.”

I knew who it was, could tell with just a glance. “Zoe…” I whispered.

How the hell did she get there? She was home in the morning, she couldn’t have… but was she home in the morning? No, I hadn’t seen her all day, nor the day before, nor the day before. How had I missed this?

“Runir,” cried Lily over the phone. “Please do something!”

“Mr. President,” said Azoth, his words light but grave. I followed his gaze to the TV.

“The terrorists are threatening to kill their hostage if the president does not answer their requests! However, they have yet to attempt to contact ElHydro News or the Black House, raising questions about how they intend to communicate with the president.”

I ran out of the room.

“Mr. President!”

I ignored the cries of alarm behind me and rushed into the living room. There was a quiet buzzing sound in the air, getting louder as I approached the front door. I grabbed the box, wrenched open its top, and pressed the phone inside against my ear.

“President Candela speaking.”

“Mr. President! So glad you could join us,” came a young voice over the phone. “We have your daughter.”

“I know.”

“We have a bomb too.”

“I know.”

“And we have demands.”

“I accept.”

Silence.

“I accept,” I repeated.

“But you don’t know what they are?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. I want assurances.”

“You have them.”

I could practically hear him scowling on the other end. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. I know what your demands are, they’ve been the same for years, but I just don’t care anymore. Give me my daughter, diffuse your bomb, and you can have what you want. You win.”

“In person. Come give it to us in person.”

I hung up. “Debby!” I fixed my cuffs. “Bring out the airship.”

The airship touched down on the northern end of the bridge. I asked Lily to stay behind but she refused. Azoth and the rest of the cabinet stayed behind in the Black House, just in case. I walked across the bridge, a bitter feeling, and a thumping heart in my chest. The Squares sneered at me as I approached, one of them tugging Zoe forward.

Zoe herself was calm, just as she’d seemed on TV. Her rational mind told her, her father would come rescue her, and he had.

“The item, first,” said the cloaked figure standing on the box. His was the voice I’d heard over the phone.

“Here,” I said, throwing the box at him, casually. He caught it, eyed me nervously, then opened it.

He smiled. “It was an honor doing business with you, Mr. President.”

They released Zoe. Lily ran forward and embraced her. The terrorists pulled out their guns, only to drop them seconds later.

“What?” said the boy on the box.

Several dozen soldiers appeared around us, their guns and staffs pointed at the terrorists. Lily lifted Zoe up and calmly joined my side.

“What is the meaning of this? We have a bomb, a nuclear bomb!”

“Do you?”

If I could see under the boy’s mask, I was sure I’d see his eyebrows furrow. “Alright, I’ll show you I wasn’t bluffing. Let’s all get blown to smithereens, together!” He stamped his foot and the box opened. He disappeared inside and screamed.

“You okay?” I said, my tone mocking concern.

“Where is it?” he said, dangling on the edge of a hole in the ground.

“Excavated by a team of Earth magicians and mechanical engineers in the short time we were talking.”

“That can’t be…”

“I’ve wasted enough time here, soldiers, arrest them.”

I turned my back on them, grabbed Lily’s arm, and walked away.

“This isn’t the end!” shouted the boy from Square as the soldiers handcuffed him. “You’ve built your castle, but it won’t last forever! It will crumble, I say. It will crumble piece by piece.”

“That’s okay,” I shouted back, putting on a show for the cameras undoubtedly hovering above. “I’ll just build it up again.”

I turned on the TV that night, Lily snoring lightly by my side. The news was done praising my heroic actions and the intellectuals were back on. It seemed like they’d nearly reached a conclusion.

“We’ve established that some chaos is essential for order to exist. Disorder is the natural state, and order is the artificial one, and although that does not mean that it is the right state, that does mean that we cannot have order without the chaos that is its antithesis,” said Leather-jacket.

“But where do we draw the line?” asked Monocles. “Do we make the obstacle course a random assortment of chaotic ideas and problems? How do we determine just how much chaos is necessary?”

“Just enough to make things fun and unpredictable,” said Pink-dress. “Let the norm be order but the defining points be disorder.”

“How do we translate that into a course for the game?” asked Apron.

“A set of questions, one designed by each of us, administered in a random order and with randomized parameters,” proposed Beard.

The others agreed. I turned off the TV, satisfied by the balance between chaos and order. I could predict everything, run the numbers a million times, but as long as there was the tiniest uncertainty, the faintest hint of an irregularity, life would be worth living. Order must be the norm. Disorder was there to spice things up from time to time.

I went to sleep with a smile on my face.

Your castle will crumble! That’s what the boy from Square had said.

Good, it would be boring if it didn’t.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning,” said Lily, beaming. I wasn’t usually the first to greet her in the morning.

“Got time for a walk?” I asked.

Her eyebrows went up. “Yes!”

So we went for a walk around the backyard. The lawns were still perfectly trimmed, but I’d told them to cut the hedges into different shapes. Circles, triangles, even squares, they were all there. The fountains splashed loudly but rose higher than before.

“What’s that?” asked Lily, pointing to the pond.

“They haven’t filled it in, yet?” I said. “I’ll tell them to get on it right away.”

It was deeper than before and there was a new trail of sand.

“In fact,” I said, letting go of Lily’s hand. “I think I’ll go tell them right now.”

I followed the sand trail out of the garden, several guards following me. A few shouted for me to slow down but I didn’t; the trail was getting thicker. I reached a small thicket of pine trees and darted inside without a thought.

“Who is it?” came a voice from inside.

I stopped. That voice was familiar. “Amy?”

A red-haired woman stepped out from behind a tree. “Runir? What are you doing here?”

“I was following this…” I stuttered and continued in a muffled voice. “…trail of sand.”

“A trail of what?”

“Sand.”

“I see.”

“It’s not as stupid as it sounds.”

“Never said it was.”

I spotted another pile of sand near a bush beside Amy.

“Right, better get on with it,” I said, brushing past Amy.

“Runir,” she said, her back to me.

“What is it?”

“It’s depressing, isn’t it?”

“What?”

She walked away without answering, disappearing behind the trees. My guards hadn’t followed me into the thicket for some reason. The sand pile in front of the bush quivered, the wind gently blowing a bit away. I approached the bush and gingerly parted the leaves.

There was another pond behind it, one without fish. On its banks was a sand castle with intricate carvings, tall towers, and ornate battlements. It had been there for a while, since there were cracks everywhere, and sand piles at the base.

“The fuck is with the castles, damn it.”

I stepped behind the bush as a strong wind blew from behind me. It slammed into the castle, making the cracks widen, eroding the battlements, and collapsing one of the towers. It wasn’t going to last for much longer.

My phone rang.

“What is it?” I barked.

“Sir,” said Debby, her voice faltering. “There’s an emergency!”

“I assumed there would be if you’re calling me, tell me what it is?”

“Aliens.”

I cursed. Really, aliens? God damn it.

“On my way,” I said, rushing out of the thicket. My guards didn’t greet me when I got outside, on account of them not being there. What did greet me, however, was a giant, glowing flying saucer. Just stellar.

“You are the human leader, are you not?” said a stereotypically alien voice.

“President Runir Candela, at your service,” I said.

“This conversation is being broadcast to your human communications networks. We apologize for interrupting the riveting debate you were having over the chaotic nature of giant rubber balls.”

“No, no, don’t mention it. Please.”

“We are here to conquer your planet.”

“Straight to the point, I like that.”

“Will incinerating you give us victory?”

“No, you’d still have to fight the rest of humanity. Although, if you can incinerate me, you’ll probably be able to take over the world fairly easily.”

“Very well.”

Bright green lights flared as I shot to the side. A giant hole appeared where the thicket had been, with no trace of trees or sandcastles. The lights flashed again so I ran. Another loud boom and the ground shook. I chanced a glance behind me and saw another hole leading to god knows where, with singed rocks and magma lining the sides.

“Accept your fate, human.”

“Screw fate,” I shouted. I ran towards the spaceship, dodging the green beams of incineration, or whatever they were called. They took forever to charge and couldn’t aim after they began charging; why have a giant green beam of incineration if you could never hit anyone with it?

I reached the ship without incident, jumped on top of it, and poked out the glass eye shooting the lasers. A scream erupted and the spaceship floundered, crashing into the ground, and rolling over like a dog. I hung onto a groove in its skin but it flung open, eliciting more screams. I dragged myself over the flap and jumped inside the ship.

There was no one inside but I already knew that. I grabbed the closest circuitry I could find and pulled it all out. The ship-alien’s screams grew in intensity but I kept pulling. Green goo splattered over me as I shattered glass tubes and spilled canisters. After I pulled out a purple cube, the ship’s screams subsided.

I jumped out of its head and wondered how much of this had been broadcast. My phone rang again. I’d been ignoring it during the fight.

“What is it?” I breathed.

“Sir!” came Debby’s voice. “Look out!”

I jumped to the side as another boom rattled the ground. I rolled over and spit out the dust in my mouth. Hundreds of flying saucer aliens whirred in the air, flashing angry green lights.

Fuck.

I did a backflip, narrowly avoiding another laser. I kept running continuously, glancing behind occasionally to measure where they were aiming. There were holes in all directions, I’d be cut off soon. Where the hell were my guards? Why was my phone still ringing?

I picked it up. “Fuck.”

“Mr. President, they have surrounded all the cities of the world! Please, tell us what to do!”

“Give me intel, we must know something about them?”

“Sir, all we know is that the terrorists from Square have been laughing hysterically for hours. Two of them have already committed suicide.”

“Get me the third one on the phone!” A laser cut off the back of my shirt.

My phone beeped as the call was redirected.

“… with the president, you say?” came a voice over the phone, a voice I remembered.

“You bastard, this is your doing, isn’t it?” I shouted.

“No, sir,” I could practically see the smirk on his face. “It’s yours.”

He laughed like a madman and wouldn’t respond to my curses and threats. I had some guards ruffle him up but to no avail. The lasers incinerated the back of my left shoe.

I cursed and flung the phone behind me. All the alien ships aimed at it and sent it to phone heaven. I stopped in place. They flashed back up to me but didn’t fire. They hovered in all directions, looked back at the massive hole where my phone had been, and flew off into the distance.

“They see radio and micro waves,” I said into the public phone.

“Sir, you’re alright!” said Debby.

“Of course, I am. Now forward that intel to the army. They should be able to handle it now.”

“On it, sir.”

I hung up and slumped against the walls of the cubicle. My heart was still racing from all that laser dancing. I still couldn’t wrap my head around those aliens, they’d come completely out of the blue. At least their attributes still made sense. Radio vision and fixed aiming; now that we knew their weaknesses, we’d defeat them in a few days.

Reason wins once again.

I stepped out of the cubicle.

“Hey, you sure took your sweet time in there!” said a tall British man.

“Sorry,” I said, off-handedly. The guy brushed past me, ripping off his shirt to reveal a large S in red. He entered the phonebooth and it began rumbling and twisting. Then it faded away.

I didn’t bother thinking about it.

Something hit me on the head. Something hit me on the head, again. And again, and again. It was raining but the rain wasn’t wet – it was slimy.

“Frogs?” I said, picking up one of the croaking critters. It was green, slimy, and froggy. My phone rang.

“Sir!” said Debby.

“It’s the frogs, right?”

“Yes, sir. They’re terrorizing the world.”

“They’re just frogs.”

“Exactly, terrifying.”

“Fine, where are they coming from?”

“We have no idea.”

“Then get the space agency to look into it.”

“Understood.”

I hung up as another frog hit me on the head. I ran to a store and bought an umbrella. The umbrella had rainbow swirls and a red clown nose on it. Perfect. I ran down the empty street and reached the Black House at last. There were no guards outside and the gate swung open on its own. Frogs fell like a pile of snow from over the gate as I ran inside.

“Runir!”

“Lily.” I hugged her. “Where’s Zoe?”

“In her room. What’s with the frogs?”

“Good question.”

I walked into the office and picked up my phone. “Debby, report.”

No answer.

“Debby?”

The call ended. The door to the secretary’s office burst open. A giant goat burst through, roaring a visceral, goaty roar. The corners of my eyes twitched. A goat, really?

“Debby…”

The goat charged me. I cursed and dodged. My desk and chair got crushed and the goat’s horns shattered the windows.

“Lily, run!” I shouted, looking at her.

She screeched and pecked at me; neither in a sexual way. Her owl beak went straight for my neck, missing it by a hair. I rolled out of the room.

“I don’t even do drugs, damn it.”

The goat and owl burst through the wall behind me so I ran. A manatee appeared in the fountain in the main hall.

“Let me guess, Zoe?”

It flapped it’s feet aggressively, which I took for a yes. The goat was right behind me and the owl was circling overhead. I jumped out of the window to the side as the two crashed into each other. Pain shot through me as I twisted my ankle. I forced myself up, dragging my leg behind me. I glanced back just in time to see the Black House – my palace – collapse in on itself. The animals were still screaming so I wobbled away as fast as I could. I grunted as my foot hit a rock but bit my lips and carried on.

The lawn was patchy, singed in places, dead in others. The hedges were thorny and amorphous. The stones in the pathways had been crushed, pressed down, or replaced with bubble wrap. I reached the pond where the fish floated dead on the algae covered water surface. But the most surprising thing of all, was that the hole – of all things – was perfect now. It’s sides were chiseled and polished forming a square tunnel that lead into the darkness. As the bleating goat and the screeching owl approached, I cursed and flung myself into the hole.

I woke up in a white room. The walls were squares, I was sure of that even though I couldn’t make out any depth in the place. The ceiling was low and had no hole, I could tell because I’d traced it with my hands while standing on tiptoes. There was no sound, no irregularities, no imperfections. It was a perfect room, isolated from everything. Everything made sense here; no goats, no aliens, no god damned trails of sands. Just me, the walls, and absolute, rational, silence.

I lasted three minutes before I began banging the walls. Let something happen, anything happen. I kicked the walls with my still aching leg, relishing the pain that broke the monotony of the perfect cube.

“Let me out!” I shouted. “Let me out of this damned box!”

This was the part where the walls fell over and I went out to play with my friends. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Instead, the world went black.

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68.0 Grayscale_Chapter 21: Monochrome

Bright sunshine flooded the streets, making the pavements glitter like a river of pearls. The air was the kind that scrubbed your lungs clean and made your breath smell like a snowy mountain breeze. I knocked on the polished mahogany door. Tat, tat, tat, then another tat, tat, for good measure.

It swung open smoothly, swiveling on its hinges with a soft whisper, inviting me in. A burst of warm air caressed me with the smell of freshly baked bread, and flowers undoubtedly planted in a flower pot. I smiled and stepped in, breathing in the cozy, homely air. A gentle voice came from behind me,

“Back already?”

“Of course, old lady. Did you really think you could bake your banana bread and not have me come over to have some?” I said, smiling at the old lady wearing kitten mittens.

“No, but I’m not done baking yet.” She looked through the oven-door, frowning intensely.

“If I waited for you to be done, I wouldn’t get a single slice.”

“School isn’t over yet. They won’t be back for another hour or so.”

“Perfect! I can eat all the banana bread!”

She shook her head. “Damn kids.”

I giggled. The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” I said, running to the door. I opened it without a thought.

“I knew you’d be here.”

“You always know where I am,” I said, giving him a quick kiss.

“My Lily senses are perfect,” said Runir with his trademark smile. Warm, inviting, maybe even a little dazzling, his smile was what first caught my eye when we met.

“Sure they are,” I said, heart aflutter. “Come on in, the old lady’s making banana bread.”

“Sounds tasty but I gotta bounce,” he said. “Just came over to give you this.” He handed me a package wrapped in white cloth.

“What is it?”

“I dunno.”

“You didn’t check?”

“Why would I do that?” He chuckled. “It’s yours, silly.”

My ear tingled. I brushed my hair behind my ears. “Right, how silly of me. I’ll open this later.”

He kissed me, smiled, and left, trotting down the road while whistling a funny tune. I eyed the parcel. It was large, and didn’t have a note on the outside. The cloth it was wrapped in had a strange, silky texture that I had never seen before. It was bizarre, unnatural, and I didn’t like it. I really didn’t like it. It shouldn’t have been there.

“The bread’s ready, Lily!”

“Coming!” I shouted, leaving the parcel on the desk beside the door as I ran to the kitchen. The Old Lady cut out a slice for me, poured some tea, and sat in front of me. We talked a little about how the kids were doing at school.

“And how’s Runir?” she asked.

“He’s fine.”

“I know that. I heard him at the door. I mean how is he.”

I groaned. “We’ve been over this. I’m not getting married yet.”

“Why not? He seems like such a lovely boy and you’ve been dating for years. Might as well seal the deal.”

“It’s not that simple,” I complained, looking away.

She chuckled. “Come on kid, how long are you going to make me wait?”

I sighed. “Yeah, can’t make you wait too long. You’re old enough as it is.”

She looked at me with her glasses askew. “So?”

I blinked. What was I saying? I shook my head. “I just thought it was rude making you wait so long.”

“My little devil never grew up huh.” She chuckled, finishing her tea. I picked up my plate, wiped the crumbs on the table onto my plate, and got up. I was going to help her clean up and then I –

What was I going to do after that, again? I frowned. I was forgetting something, but what? Oh, the parcel, of course. I spotted in the corner of my eye as someone knocked on the door. I opened the door, putting the small parcel in my pocket. Pockets were so useful.

“Hey!”

“Oh, hi Amy!” I said, greeting the red-haired, rosy-cheeked girl. “What brings you here?”

“Nothing, I was passing by so I thought I’d say hi,” she said.

“Good timing, the Old Lady just pulled out a fresh loaf of banana bread.”

“Nah,” she said. “It’s such a wonderful day, I couldn’t bear being cooped inside right now. Say, wanna join me for a walk?”

“Sure, just let me clean up with the Old lady.” I turned, but saw that the dishes were clean and the old lady was nowhere to be seen. Probably went to the bathroom.

Wait, what was that again? A cold breath went down my back. I turned. Amy was looking at me with confused eyes.

“What is it?” she said.

“Nothing. Say, did you see where the Old La –”

“Lily!”

A little girl slammed into me and hugged me tightly, her scruffy hair getting in my nose. I almost sneezed.

“Damn it Zoe, you’re too old to be jumping on me like a puppy,” I said, swallowing my giggles.

Zoe lifted her face and smiled gleefully. “No!”

I shook my head, hugged her back, patted her hair, and fought my way out of her grip. “Where’re Kelly and Chen?”

“Making out under a bridge.”

“For real?”

“I dunno.”

“Then what do you know?”

“That they said they were going to be late.”

“But –”

“Oh, I just remembered something!” she interjected, ruffling in her pockets while ignoring me. She pulled out a parcel, this one wrapped in a black cloth with the same awful texture as the white one. “Had to give this to you.”

“Where’d you get it?” I asked, frowning as she put it in my hand.

“Kelly said someone wanted to give it to you.”

“Do you know who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does! You don’t know who that person was, you can’t just trus–”

A sharp pain pierced me head for an instant. I blanked, mouth agape, regained my senses, and blinked.

“I can’t just what?” asked Zoe.

“Huh?” I said, disoriented. “I don’t… oh yeah, like I was saying, you can’t just thrust this at me without telling me who it’s from. I can’t handle the suspense!”

“Then open it,” said Amy.

“I’m not going to open it in front of you guys! This is a private package.”

“Fine.” Zoe shrugged. Her eyes lit up and she sniffed the air. “Is that… banana bread?”

“Yeah, go help yourself.”

“Yay!” She skipped inside, brushing my shoulder with her hair as she went past. I caught a whiff of something strange, something salty. Like a… sea breeze. I frowned again.

“Hey, let’s go already!” said Amy, as she tugged my hand. “It’s such a wonderful day!”

“It’s always a wonderful day,” I said, chuckling. “Where’d you wanna go?”

“I don’t know, let’s explore!”

“Explore? What’s there to explore?”

“Everything!”

“Sure, let’s go.”

We left the golden gates outside the house and walked down the pearly street. Manicured lawns and trimmed hedges lined either side, with a few fountains of clear water sprinkled in for good measure. The roads were empty, no pedestrians in sight. The sun was still shining brightly, like always, and the wind was still fresh enough to wash away my worries. Why would I have any of those, anyways? Life was perfect.

“Oh hey, it’s Adriana’s place,” said Amy. “Let’s go say hi.”

“Sure,” I replied, letting her lead me inside a blue house floating on a crystal-clear pool.

“Hey Adriana, you home?”

“Yeah, come on in.”

The interior was warm and cozy, although the walls and floors gave off a chilly air, like a fresh mountain stream. Adriana lay on the couch, reading a magazine while scratching her belly. I threw a pillow at her.

“What was that for?”

“Wanted to spook the lazy cat.”

“What lazy cat?”

“You, dingbat.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said, looking around. “Where’s Granny Nipa?”

“In the kitchen,” she grumbled.

“Hey Amy, look after this dumbass while I go find granny, will ya?” I turned to Amy but she wasn’t behind me.

“Got it,” said Amy, making me swing around. She was sitting next to Adriana, ogling at the magazine. I frowned. What was so great about a dumb magazine, anyway?

The kitchen was bright, cheery, and exactly as I remembered it. Granny Nipa had her back to me, the smell of porridge wafting from the pot she was stirring.

“Hi granny!” I said.

“Is that you, Lily? I’d turn around to hug you but this porridge is just about done.”

“Take your time, granny. I’ll be in the living room.”

“I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”

Amy and Adriana were still on the couch, staring at the magazine. I raised a corner of my lips and tutted. Was this magazine really that special? I asked them what it was called but they didn’t respond. I peeked at the cover myself and found that it read, “Write Way Magazine.” A cheezy ass title, to say the least. The cover was pretty trashy too.

“The porridge is ready dears!”

“Coming granny,” said Adriana and I, while Amy kept reading the magazine. Adriana ran into the kitchen but my foot caught the corner of the carpet, making me sway. The white parcel fell out of my pocket but I grabbed it before it hit the floor. The cloth still felt strange as I ran my hand over it. Now was as good a time as any to find out what was inside. I reached for the knot.

“It’ll get cold,” said Granny from inside.

The parcel could wait. There was porridge to be had. I tried to pry Amy from the couch, but found that she wasn’t there. When had she snuck past me? Must’ve rushed to the porridge so she could grab a bigger portion!

I raced into the kitchen. Light filtered into the room through the blinds, casting shadowy lines over the wooden floor and table. The room was full of the smell of porridge, and a large bowl of Granny’s signature porridge lay in the center of the table, giving off wisps of steam.

Yet, there were a few problems with this perfect moment. First, Amy and Adriana weren’t there. Second, Granny was still facing the stove, motionless, a large ladle in her hand, and apron fallen around her feet.

“Granny,” I whispered, my hair on end. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t respond. I hesitated, before taking a deep breath, and reaching for her shoulder. As soon as I touched it, she spun around, and I tried to wiggle out of her grip, instinctively. Instead, she grinned viciously and stared into my eyes.

“Happy birthday!” shouted several voices, Granny’s included.

I blinked in surprise. Someone pulled up the blinds, letting in more light. Runir, Amy, Zoe, Adriana, the Old Lady, Kelly, Chen, and Granny Nipa stood around me, grinning lightly, some of them chuckling. Runir had a big box in his hands, which he laid on the table and opened to reveal a beautiful cake.

“Surprise!” said Zoe, hugging me. I laughed as my heart fell down my throat. Why was I worried anyways? Everything was perfect. Nothing could go wrong.

“You got me,” I admitted. “I thought something weird was happening.”

“Well it is your birthday, which is pretty weird in itself,” joked Runir. I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Damn, I was worried too. What if… nah, never mind. Hey, let’s cut up this cake.”

Granny Nipa pulled out a knife and cut the cake for everyone. There was so much of it that no one complained about getting smaller pieces. We talked and ate cake, the smell of frosting mixing with the grainy aroma of the porridge cooling on the table. We’d have to eat that soon.

“Thanks everyone,” I said, tears of joy welling up in my eyes. “I love you all so much! You’re the best. You’re perfect. Everything is perfect!”

With my blurry vision, I saw my friends and family enjoying my birthday cake on a warm afternoon inside a cozy little kitchen. There was enough cake to go around, Granny Nipa was alive and well, and the kids from the orphanage were here, right in front of me. Runir grabbed my waist and flashed his perfect smile, making me giggle like a little kid. I met his eyes and thought about how much I wanted to…

Steal a kiss; such an awkward expression. Wonder who thought of it. You didn’t need to steal a kiss if they were willing to give you one anyway. I kissed Runir. No stealing here, not anymore. You don’t need to steal anything in a world where everyone has everything they want!

Laughter. Swimming vision. I was happier than I’d ever been.

“Did you see what was inside the package yet?” asked Runir.

I chuckled. “So, it really was from you, after all!”

“No,” he said. “Our gifts are on the table over there. I think the package was from someone who couldn’t be here and was sorry for missing your party.”

“Oh,” chimed Zoe. “Then the one I gave you was probably from someone like that too.”

I blinked my eyes clear. Although, I couldn’t think of anyone I cared about who wasn’t already here, I guess I could check them out. I fished inside my convenient pockets and took out the white package. I opened the knot, revealing a white chocolate cookie. There was no note, just a cookie. Yet, I felt – in the back of my mind – like I knew who it was from.

I couldn’t touch it. In fact, I almost dropped it. It wasn’t a gift, it didn’t belong to me. I didn’t want it to belong to me.

I heard a whisper in my ear, “Take it, you already paid for it.” The voice was familiar but it filled me with anger, not nostalgia. Anger, I wasn’t supposed to feel that here. There was no reason to be angry in a perfect world. Nothing to be angry about, nothing at all. Not even he could make me angry here.

“What’s the matter, Lily?”

“It’s okay Granny, I just –”

My voice got caught in my mouth. Bright lights, but not sunlight, flared. Flames; Granny was on fire. She smiled as the flames licked her tiny frame. “Why are you crying dearie?”

My hand touched my cheeks. My fingers were wet.

“Come on dearie,” said Granny as the flames engulfed her. “Don’t you cry.”

I screamed. Adriana cried, scowled at me with disdain, as if she blamed me for what happened to Granny. She evaporated into mist.

“What happened, Lily?” asked Zoe.

“Granny’s –”

I turned to her voice but couldn’t find her.

“Zoe…”

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

Giggles. No answer.

“Lily, dear, who are you talking to?” said the Old Lady who ran the orphanage.

“Zoe, you know her, she –” I paused. “Why do you know her. You never…”

The Old Lady chuckled. “Little devil, always breaking things. You broke your own perfect world.”

“Why are you here?” I shouted, wild-eyed. “You shouldn’t be here, who’s taking care of the orphanage if you’re here?”

“But I was never here.”

I blinked. The Old Lady was gone. Kelly and Chen stood in her place, their faces empty of features, except for large, white smiles.

“Big sis,” they said together. “You left without saying goodbye. You even forgot to bring the snacks. The snacks that you stole and got killed for.” Their bodies vanished but the ghost of their smiles hung in the air.

The light in the room intensified, making my eyes water. In my blurry vision, I caught sight of Runir, approaching me with his perfect smile.

“Lily!” he said, his voice clear and worried. I felt his hands grab my shoulders, his eyes met mine, cutting through the muddled tears, straightening out the world for a second.

“Runir,” I cried, clinging to his arms. “Everyone, they, they…”

“Shush,” he said, hugging me closer. “It’s going to be fine.” His hands rubbed my back. His warm chest rose with mine. I was safe. Things made sense again.

Then he stabbed me in the back.

A croaking noise escaped my throat as pain shot through my back and something warm ran down my skin. My hands shook as Runir’s hands loosened and I staggered back.

“Y-you…”

He smiled his perfect smile. No, he smirked. The smirked the way he always did. I didn’t want him to do that, it sent shivers down my spine. That was the least of my problems, though.

“Shush,” he said. “It’s fine. You can trust me. No one will betray you in a perfect world.” His smirk grew larger and brighter, until it filled my vision.

I fell on my back. The pain was gone and my back was cold again. The cookie was gone even though I didn’t remember dropping it. Everything was gone; replaced by blinding whiteness. My heart jumped as I felt something warm on my waist. I put a trembling hand into my other incredibly convenient pocket and pulled out the black package – the only sign of color apart from my sorry self.

“Do it.”

My face shot upwards. “You…”

“Open it,” said the skinny, brown haired boy wearing a grimy yellow t-shirt and patched up jeans.

“No,” I said. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he said. “To open the box.”

I grit my teeth, rose to my feet, and charged him, anger propelling me forward. A hand grabbed me as I neared him. It threw me to the ground. Someone kicked me. It didn’t hurt after the first kick.

“Open it.”

“No,” I groaned.

The kicks continued but I wasn’t paying attention. The package was on the ground in front of my face. The knot had come loose so I could see inside. A bottle of chocolate milk lay inside, a reminder of a different time, a different place, a different world. An imperfect world, just like this one.

The kicks stopped.

“Good.”

A gust of wind blew the black cloth away, leaving the chocolate milk alone on the ground. My breath appeared in front of me, misty, and still smelling of cake. Snow fell on my cheeks, melting, and rolling down them like tears. I propped myself up, my heart caught in my throat. I knew what was going to happen but I didn’t want it to.

Sure enough, a woman lay in the snow, shivering while curled up in a ball. A little girl shook her, the little girl’s hair covering her face. I backed up and my foot hit something with a clink. I stopped. The bottle of chocolate milk lay beside my foot. I looked at the girl, the woman, and the milk. I couldn’t hear the girl’s shouts but I knew what she was saying. I knew exactly what she was saying.

I picked up the milk and stepped up to the girl and her mother. I stood right behind her, holding the bottle of milk with a trembling, outstretched hand.

It slipped from my fingers and shattered. Brown liquid splashed over the pavement. My mother vanished in a puff of snow, getting blown away by the biting winds. The younger me turned around, her tearful eyes, snot, and puffed cheeks glaring at me.

Then a voice came from afar and everything went black.

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