The official unofficial SV female lead Isekai contest: Story Thread

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Traitor to her Class
Pronouns
She/Her
All Entries are under spoilers, or as sent to me if they were already spoilered.

Please vote like a quest, by putting an [x] and the stories title in a post.

Voting opens on 5TH OF JUNE at 23:59 GMT

Note 1: If you notice any content against board rules please tell me and or a moderator promptly, I've not been able to review everything cause you guys are all too productive.
 
Last edited:
Blooming Afterlife
[ ] Blooming Afterlife
Genre: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Adventure.

Prologue: Echo of Life

As a half-Japanese girl living in Tokyo, Akibana Nightingale has been the subject of the occasional prejudice. Despite having lived in Japan all her life, she still couldn't understand why some people would judge her solely because one of her parents wasn't Japanese. All her life, she strived to conform to the norms of society, and aside from one period of her life, did not falter in that regard.

So she was confused as to why Mihara Keitaro would throw all of that away.

Keitaro was what one would call a "Hikkikomori", that is to say a shut-in. Since she started her second year in High School, Aki hasn't seen hide-nor-hair of Keitaro. In fact, the only reason she knew about him was because the Homeroom teacher called her that afternoon to force him to attend class.

Considering that it's already a month into the school year, Aki doubts that Keitaro has any plans of attending school. And yet, she couldn't say no when the teacher personally assigned her this duty. Not when the teacher told her 'What a model student you are!' and 'I wish all of my students are like you, Aki-san!'

She was sure it was all empty praise, the teacher foisting off the task to her because he couldn't be bothered to, but she didn't really mind, not when she had responsibility as the class representative. Besides, she herself was interested in Keitaro, and the reasons he barred himself from the outside world.

With a start, she realized that she was at the address written on the paper in her hand, having walked there while her thoughts were adrift. She double-checked the address, and after confirming that it was the right address, rang the doorbell.

As she saw the curtains on the second floor move, she stood back to wait for the door to open. Five minutes later, she wondered if her classmate saw her and rang the bell again. Ten minutes after that, she was pretty sure her classmate was ignoring her.

Well, she didn't go this far just to return without having done what she set out to do. She rang the bell again and called out to him.

"Keitaro-san, I know you're there! I want to talk to you!" She said. With a huff, she crossed her arms and stood by the gate, waiting for him to answer. She rang the bell again, and probably realizing that she's more persistent than him, opened the door.

Aki stared at Keitaro, looking at him from top to bottom. He had thick black hair, and dark brown eyes. He wore a dirty white shirt and a blazer that looked like it was worn as an afterthought. His posture was slumped, and he flinched as his eyes tried to readjust to the sun's light. With his hands in his pockets, he walked to the gate, and as soon as he was in speaking distance, said his greetings.

"You're annoying."

Aki felt as if something stabbed her in the chest. She tried to smile, being courteous to a fellow classmate.

"Hello Keitaro-san. I'm Akibana Nightingale-" She began, only to be cut off by the Hikkikomori.

"What do you want?"

Her smile slipped, and she sighed in exasperation. "Fine. If you want it that way, then I'm here to bring you to school."

"Give it up. Futile. Normie. Jump off a cliff." Was Keitaro's successive assaults.

Inwardly, Aki screamed at the unfairness of the world, and why she has to deal with the most troublesome of people. Still, if anything she's persistent. She weathered the insults and tried to reason with him.

"Don't you want to go to school?" She asked, tying to gauge his reaction. His face morphed into distaste.

"What for? It's not like it's the end of the world if I don't go to school." He said.

"You can't live like that forever you know." She said. "Eventually, you'd be forced to leave your house, either to work or something else."

"And I'm telling you that's not happening." He said with pride. He grinned and puffed his chest. "I'll make a living from the confines of the room, so I don't see the reason to go to school."

Aki has to admire the confidence he has in his abilities. Either he believes he really could do what he says, or he's a talented actor. It only sparked her curiosity about the person standing in front of her.

"… Do you mind if I come in?" She said.

Keitaro looked surprised, but scratched his head in thought.

"Why?"

"I don't know. You're an interesting guy." Aki told him, shrugging. She pulled her bag in front of her and pulled out a few sheets of paper. "Plus, there's also the school work you missed."

"I already told you I won't be doing that." He whined, but relented. "Tsk. Fine."

She smiled.

"Thanks." She said. "By the way, I haven't finished introducing myself. I'm Akibana Nightingale. It's nice to meet you."

"Aah." Keitaro said, rubbing his neck and looking away. "Please, come in."

~ ~ ~

Oddly enough, while Keitaro was reluctant to let Aki inside his home, once he did he didn't have any qualms about letting her into the room. As soon as they entered, he sat back on his chair and started typing on his computer. With nowhere to sit, Aki sat on his bed with a small 'Excuse me.'

"Sorry for the mess." Keitaro said with perfect deadpan. Aki looked around the room, glancing at the haphazardly thrown manga and light novels on the floor, and empty containers of food on the desk. His School uniform was hanging on a hook on his closet, with a few articles of clothing poking out from under the door.

"It's fine. It's not like you knew I was coming." She said. After observing his room, she turned his attention to him. He was engrossed with whatever was on the screen, and only gave her a few noncommittal answers. "Hey, why did you become a Hikkikomori?"

Keitaro froze as still as a statue, he swung in his seat, his desk chair squeaking to follow his movements. Keitaro glared at Aki, but sighed when he realized she meant nothing with her remark.

"There's nothing good about the outside world." He said, standing up and picking up the empty food containers. "Everything I want and need I can get right here."

"That's not right, there are a lot of things in life that's good." Aki said. She stood up to help him, but he hurriedly picked up all the containers and dumped them in the trash.

"What, like school and responsibilities?" He asked.

"More or less." She sat back down, laying her bag beside her. "There are a lot of fun things at school. Friends, learning, and the festivals!"

"So you're admitting that having responsibility sucks?" He said bluntly.

"I didn't say that." Aki shook her head. "In fact, I think it's a good thing."

Keitaro scoffed and sat back down on his seat, turning his attention back to his computer.

"Having responsibilities means that people trust you, they rely on you." She continued.

"And you get blamed when everything falls apart." He retorted.

She huffed, stood back up and marched to his desk. With a press of a button, she turned off the monitor, laying an arm on the computer tower.

"You're such a pessimist, you know that?"

"And you're an extremely nosey girl." Keitaro grit his teeth.

The two glared at each other for a minute, before Aki relented.

"You're right. I'm pretty nosey, aren't I?" She said, placing a finger on her chin.

Keitaro for his part was tense. He never won an argument that fast before. What was she planning?

"So nosey, in fact, I'd keep pestering you from now on." She smiled.

"Where are you going with this?"

She began pacing around the room, her hands clasped behind her.

"You see, I'm only here because the teacher told me to help you catch up with our studies. Nothing's exactly stopping me from visiting you again." She said cheekily. Keitaro groaned.

"What do you want?"

"How about we make a deal!" Aki chirped, glad that Keitaro see things her way.

"If it gets you off my case, I'll do anything." He said. She simply grinned wider.

"Good. Here's what we're going to do-" She began. Keitaro couldn't help but think that he bit more than he could chew after she laid down the deal.

~ ~ ~

With a tug on his black jacket, Keitaro stared at his reflection in his mirror. He tried patting down his thick hair into something more manageable, but all it did was mess it up more. With a resigned sigh, he began his trek down the stairs. Grasping his doorknob, he tried to compose himself.

It wasn't a big deal. It was only for a month, he could do it. Then, he could go back to his old routine. Nothing to it. With a jerk of his arm, the door opened, welcoming the sun and its rays. He raised his arms to protect his eyes, and he wondered if it wasn't too late to get a cap to help protect his head from the heat.

"Oh, you're here. I thought I had to drag you out of your room myself." Came the voice of his recent tormentor.

Keitaro glanced at Akibana Nightingale, his so called classmate. She had long, natural brownish-red hair, like her namesake, and dark brown eyes. She was rather tall, with a more angular face than most Japanese, probably the influence of her foreign blood. Since it was a school day, she simply came here wearing their school uniform, she even brought her school satchel with her.

"I didn't expect you to belong to the 'Go-Home' Club." He said instead. He was rather surprised that she came here straight after classes were over, but that just goes to show how serious she was with their deal.

"I'm not. I'm just taking a break from club activities until we're done." She began walking, Keitaro following slightly behind her.

"This is going to be a pain, I just know it." He grumbled.

"Come now! We're going to have fun! Lighten up!" She turned around and walked backwards.

"I highly doubt that." Keitaro shot back. He slipped his hands in his pocket and hunched forward, not minding what other people thought of his posture.

"You should walk straighter." Aki instead told him, frowning at his stance.

"Why? I'm not going to conform to the norms of society just so I can look presentable." His time in the mirror was enough for that.

"Uh, that's not really what I meant." She moved beside him, and shot a finger to jab at his side. Keitaro stood as straight as a pole when the finger touched him, feeling as if an electric current went through his spine at the unexpected action. "There. It must hurt your back to always walk like that."

"What hurt was that poke!" He all but yelled.

"Sorry, sorry." She apologized, raising her hands in front of her in surrender. "My dad loved to tickle me there, so I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm not. So keep your hands to yourself." Keitaro ran his hands up and down his arms, feeling goosebumps all over his skin. "Anyway, where are we going again?"

"Oh, right!" She brightened up. "We're going to play airsoft!"

"…" Keitaro stared. Aki simply kept her smile. Keitaro thought she was joking, but when she didn't budge, he realized that she was being serious.

"WHAT?!"

~ ~ ~

BANG.

"Hit!"

Keitaro rolled into cover and leaned against the rubber tires in the Airsoft Arena. He felt his heartbeat running a mile an hour as he tried to get his breath under control. His grip on his airsoft gun tightened, and he felt his hands sweating under his gloves. His eyes roamed the forest around him, watching for any movement.

He nearly had a heart attack when he felt someone sit down beside him.

"GA-"

"Shhhh!" It was Aki, she was holding a hand on his mouth to prevent him from screaming. "You'll give our position away."

A wash of relief overwhelmed him when he realized who it was, before it turned into anger. He swatted the hand away, grabbing her padded clothes and dragged her closer so she could quietly yell at her.

"You're freaking crazy!" He said, spittle splashing on her safety goggles. "Why the hell are we playing airsoft! How the hell did you arrange a game on such short notice anyway?!"

"Oh, uh, the Airsoft club told me about it." She said.

Keitaro stared dumbly.

"They said that 'A man's romance is all about guns! The thrill of running through a battlefield, shooting your opponents, before relishing in the afterglow of victory'" She recited, her voice deepening to mimic the school's Airsoft Club president. "I didn't know what a guy would do for fun, so I asked around school."

"So you thought that an extreme sport like Airsoft would be the best thing to do?" Keitaro said incredulously.

"It was this, fighting for a kingdom against a Demon Lord, building giant mechs, or going to an Idol Concert." She said, listing the suggestions she received. "We obviously can't do two of them, and I don't know your tastes in Idols, so this was the next best thing!"

"I'd rather be at a sweaty, loud Idol Live than being in a battlefield." He said, all the tension draining from his body. He laid on the ground, all the energy gone from his body.

"Come on, we need to move." She said, adjusting her grip on her rifle.

"You're going to be the death of me." He said, resigned to his fate.

Despite being newcomers, Aki and Keitaro worked together, managing to survive for the better part of the game until they were taken out by the other players. After the game, the two sat at one of the many tables set aside around the arena. Keitaro was sprawled on the table, having nothing left to give. Aki approached him and gave him a bottle of water, which he gulped down greedily.

"So, what do you think?" She asked.

"I think that was the craziest thing I have ever done in my entire life." He babbled. "Everywhere I went, I felt like someone was watching me. I had to keep moving my body, or else they would catch me."

"And…?" She rolled her hands in gesture. "Did you have fun?"

Keitaro paused, really thinking about it.

"Yeah… I had fun."

Aki smiled.

"But next time, can you try not to kill me?" He said.

"Haha. Don't worry, I'll make sure that you won't get hurt while you're with me." Aki promised.

"And next time, I'll pick where we're going!"

"Ehh? Do you even know of a place we can go to?"

"Guh… Uh… O-Of-course I do!"

And so began the one month deal between Aki and Keitaro. Every day, Aki would visit Keitaro, and each time they would try new things to have fun. The days passed, and before they knew it, the last day arrived.

~ ~ ~

On the last day of their deal, they decided to do something more low-key than what they've been doing for the past few weeks. Namely, a trip to the park. The two rented a boat and rowed out to the lake. There, they exchanged stories, talking with each other.

"-And that's why the boys of our class are now afraid of maids." Aki finished, earning a laugh from Keitaro.

"Oh, god. That sounds hilarious! They really did that?" Keitaro asked.

"I told you that you won't believe it. You'd have to be there yourself." Aki shook her head. Keitaro rubbed his head, his laughter dying down at that reminder.

"Yeah, haha… Sure." Was Keitaro's lacklustre reply. Realizing something wrong with her friend, Aki decided to change topics.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked instead.

"It's nothing, just…" Keitaro struggled to say what he was thinking. Aki was patient, allowing him enough space to say it on his own. "Something's been bothering me."

Aki nodded, staying silent. She can tell that what he wanted to say was important.

"… Why were you so persistent when we first met?" He finally said.

'Ah.' Aki thought. She didn't really have a good answer for that. While she could have left him alone, there was something about that just didn't feel right.

"Hmm…" She hummed, her fingers gliding over the lake's surface. "Maybe because it was sad."

She stopped, thinking about what she was about to say.

"Life has so many things to offer, and the thought that someone would hide away from all of that… it was just sad." She said. "I want to laugh, I want to cry. I want to love, I want to feel pain. I want others to acknowledge that I, Akibana Nightingale, was alive, and that I lived her life the way she wanted to."

She gazed into his eyes.

"It's why I hate prejudice. Just because I'm one thing, that doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to be the other." She continued. "And when I met you, you were like a snail, hiding in his shell, scared of the world. Unable to see that, just outside of its shell, was a beautiful garden so full of life."

The two fell into silence. Keitaro didn't have anything to say to Aki, and Aki was content to let Keitaro think about her words. The two stayed like that until the time they had to return the boat. They paddled into the docks and disembarked, Keitaro helping Aki onto the platform.

When they left the park, it was getting dark. The sun began to set, bathing the sky in an orange glow. The two teens walked on in silence, both busy with their thoughts. By the time they had to wait at an intersection for the light to change, the silence became too much for Aki and she spoke up.

"Hey, Keitaro, would you return to school with me?"

Keitaro didn't speak, instead looking forward without giving an indication that he heard her. Aki was going to ask again, but Keitaro has already moved away. The traffic light says to cross.

"Keitaro." Aki called. "Hey, Keitaro."

She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him so that he would face her.

"What's your problem, why aren't you answering me?"

"You want to know?" He raised his voice, bulking up and getting ready to express his thoughts. "Do you really think it's that easy to return to school? To try and fit into society's rules? Obey the status quo? You don't know what I've been through!"

"No, I don't!" She yelled back. "You don't share it with me! I've been giving you space, because I know you'll tell me when you're ready, but you never do!"

"You'll never understand because you don't let anything affect you!" He shook her hand off from his arm, glaring at her. "Here's something you don't know, not everyone is as strong as you!"

"Not affect me?" Aki laughed, one that was twisted in pain. "Do you know how many opportunities I've missed just because I'm not a 'Pure-Japanese'? Do you know how it feels like to be judged just because you're slightly different from the rest of the people? That's my life, everyday! The only thing that keeps me going is that knowing that someday, that's going to change. People will see me for what I can do, not what they think I can do-"

The blaring of a horn cut into their argument. Both teens looked to the side, seeing a speeding truck headed their way.

"Look out!" Keitaro shouted, pushing Aki.

Aki barely had time to react before the truck hit.

And then everything went black.

~ ~ ~

_

Chapter 1: The Goddess

"Well, this is a problem."

When Aki woke up, she expected to be in a hospital, or somewhere they could treat her. An empty void was not one of them.

In front of her floated a girl wearing a white, ethereal dress that seemed to emit a soft glow. The skirt fluttered out to the sides, flowing as if it floated in water. The inside of the dress was like a canvas of stars, each one blinking independently of each other. Aki's eyes glanced up, taking in the puffy sleeves and long opera gloves the girl wore. The girl's pink lips curved downward into a small frown, looking small compared to her big violet eyes. Pink locks of hair fell down to her back, almost as long as her dress.

"What are you?" Aki asked.

"Do you mean me?" When the girl spoke, voice was light and ran through every fiber of Aki's being. It was like listening to the melody of a piano, and she wanted nothing more than to listen to it. The girl's giggle was the same, Aki felt like she would be content just hearing it every day. "I'm a goddess silly."

"A goddess…?" Aki whispered.

"Indeed. I'm one of the many deities to have existed." The girl smiled, floating closer to her. For the first time, Aki noticed that she was naked in this void, and she tried to cover herself up. The goddess smiled, grabbing her arms and pulling them away. "There's nothing to be shy about."

"Sorry…" She said, trying to look away. It was a conflicting feeling. There was something about the goddess that made her want to look at her, but at the same time she felt as if she wasn't worthy of looking at her.

"Aki-chan, how can we talk if you keep looking away at me?" The goddess gently laid a hand on her cheek, pushing so that the teen stared at her.

Then, a thought sprang up in her mind.

"Wait, you're a goddess." She said. The goddess giggled and smiled. "Does that mean I'm dead?"

The goddess's smile softened, and she laid a hand on Aki's shoulder.

"Yes and no." The goddess said. "By your definition, you are dead. By mine, you are not."

"I'm sorry… what?" Aki tried and failed to wrap her mind around that concept. How can she be dead and not at the same time?

"You see, it really wasn't your time to die." The goddess floated back from Aki, putting space between them. The goddess lifted a hand, and a folder appeared in above it. With a gesture of her finger, it opened up to reveal a file with Akibana Nightingale's name on it. "You still had 46 years to live, but there was one problem."

"Problem?" Aki echoed. "What kind of problem?"

The file snapped shut with a clap, before vanishing back into where it came from. The goddess snapped a finger, and a screen flashed to life beside her.

"You." The goddess said simply.

Aki watched as the screen played a scene at an intersection. It showed a black haired boy crossing the road before being stopped by a red-haired girl. They were talking about something, not noticing that the traffic lights changed colour. As soon as it did, a truck turned the corner on unsafe speeds, not seeing the two teens on the crosswalk.

Hearing the screech of tires, both teens froze as they saw the truck headed towards them. The boy attempted to push the girl away, but the girl was faster. She shoved the boy away, only to be hit by the truck after she did.

"It wasn't you who was supposed to die in that accident. Your friend Keitaro was." Static filled the screen before the image came back, this time showing a different event. It still showed the two teens talking in the middle of the road, and the truck barrelling towards them, but this time the boy pushed the girl away, being the one hit by the truck.

Aki was horrified.

To see her body flying through the air after getting hit by the truck was painful. To know that was how she died… and to think that Keitaro would have gone through the same thing if she was slower… She watched as her friend clutched her bleeding body close, watched as he cried over her. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to see a friend die in front of you, and that she actually died in front of Keitaro… her mind blanked.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, but it was important to what I'm about to say next." The goddess explained. "Your friend was supposed to die in that accident and it should have been him that should have met me. And yet, here you are."

"So…" When Aki heard her own voice, it sounded so hollow to her ears. "what's going to happen to me now?"

"Normally when a person dies, they are returned to the reincarnation cycle." The goddess cupped a hand, and a red flame appeared above her palm. She waved a hand, and sparks flew out of the flame, changing its colour into a pale blue. "They are wiped clean of their memories and experiences, so that they aren't burdened by their deeds in the last life. There are exceptions though."

The goddess removed her hand, the flame floating lower and lower into the void, before it touched what passes for the ground in the void. When it did, the ground rippled with the flame at its epicentre. It sank into the ground, and soon the ground was as still as a lake's surface, the flame vanishing.

"That's option number one." The goddess said.

"Options?" Aki asked. She didn't think she had options.

"Yes, Options." The goddess smiled a small smile. "It was my fault that you died when you did, and it seems unfair if I let such a kind girl die when she wants to do so much with her life."

Dreams? Aki nearly scoffed. Her wants were too small to be considered dreams or aspirations. She just wanted to live her life, without being judged for things she couldn't control.

"Not just anyone would do what you did for your friend, you know." The goddess comforted her. "You didn't only save him when you pushed him out of the way, not thinking of your own well being, but you also reached out to him when nobody would. He would never forget you."

Aki blushed. She didn't really mean to do that, things were happening so fast. Besides, she couldn't let Keitaro live his life in seclusion.

"As for your other option." The goddess continued, not minding Aki's internal turmoil. "Was the option I would have given to your friend."

That snapped her out of her thoughts, Aki looked up to the goddess and listened to what she had to say. "You see, I have a bit of a problem with one of the worlds I'm watching over. Before I was given jurisdiction over this particular universe, the last deity who watched over it made a bit of a blunder, which he left for me to clean up."

"Wait, jurisdiction? Universe? I don't follow." Aki said.

"Oh, well I guess I should start there." The goddess paused. "Do you know of the Multiverse theory?"

"Um… a bit. It's the theory where there's more than one universe, right?" Aki said.

"That's close. The thing is, We follow nearly the same principles, though not exactly." The goddess held out both of her hands. A sphere that looked similar to a planet appeared. "You know how people thought that life first started at the sea, before they evolved to walk on land?"

"Yeah, Darwin's Evolution Theory." She remembered reading that in one of her books.

"Well, what if life stayed at the sea, or they moved from the sea to the sky?" As the goddess said those possibilities, the sphere in her hands split into another ball. Now, she has three spheres, each one revolving around the center of her palms. "For every 'If', it creates a new world. It grows and grows until you have an almost infinite number of the same planet, each one different from the last."

"Of course, this isn't limited to your planet. There are universes where your planet is as dead as Mars, but life is thriving in Venus. There is also a universe where Earth wasn't the only planet in the solar system to sustain life. The same could be said for each star system."

As the goddess continued, the three spheres floating above her hands moved away from each other. A black, transparent fluid appeared and covered each sphere, separating one sphere from the others by the veil. In each of the veils, more spheres appeared, some looking like they could support life if it was a planet, the others not.

"All of these are possibilities that are true." The goddess said. "To put it in simple terms, it's like the Schrödinger's cat. The cat is alive in one universe, while the cat is dead in another. Both of them are possible, and both of them are true."

While the goddess spoke, more and more of the veils appeared around them, floating above their heads.

"I'm a goddess that watches over one part of the Multiverse. There are many like me, but I am your goddess." The goddess giggled at her own joke.

"You can think of me as the person who watches over all the universes where the cat is dead, while the other deity watched over all the universes where the cat is alive." The goddess crossed her arms, a small frown decorating her face. "Now, one of my… we'll call him co-worker. One of my co-workers made a mistake in one of the universes he watched over, and now, that universe has one dead cat. Do you understand?"

"I think so." Aki said. "I don't see how it concerns me though."

"Ah, here's where it gets complicated." The goddess allowed. With a snap of her fingers, the spheres and the veils surrounding them vanished, leaving them again in the empty void. "You see, because of my co-worker's mistake, We had to scramble to try and fix his mistake. They lessened the worlds he watches over, and now one of the worlds that was previously his, is now my responsibility."

"Let me guess…" Aki said, already seeing where this was going. "The one that was given to you was the universe where your co-worker made a mistake with?"

"Exactly." The goddess smiled. "The problem is, since I just received jurisdiction over this world, I don't have much sway over this world. And this is where Keitaro would have come in."

"Keitaro?" Aki asked.

"Yes. He would act as my avatar in that world, helping me to fix the problem. And in return, he would be given what he wanted the most."

What Keitaro he wants most? Now that Aki thought about it, she doesn't know much about what he wanted. He never spoke about his hopes, dreams, or aspirations for the future.

"What did he want?" Aki's voice came out as small and weak, afraid to know the truth. But the goddess, being a goddess, heard her.

"A new life."

"I don't get it." Aki tried to understand, but she couldn't. "What do you mean by a 'new life'?"

"… I don't think you're ready for that." Was the goddess's answer. Aki felt a flush of anger at the response, but fought to keep it down. There was no reason to take her anger out at the goddess, especially since she held her life in her hands.

"Why?" Frustration leaked into that word, and Aki gripped her hands tight.

"It's irrelevant anyway." The goddess said. "Because of what you did, his wish changed. But his fate didn't. It was only when you pushed him away from that truck that it did."

The implications dawned on Aki. "Are you saying he was fated to die?!"

"…" The goddess didn't answer, and instead turned away. "I know it's frustrating, but it already changed. Don't worry about it."

Aki grit her teeth, she couldn't believe the goddess is brushing this matter under the rug, especially since it involves one of the people she is watching over.

"What you should worry about, is your own situation." The reminder was like a bucket of ice water being poured over her head. Aki's head cooled as she remembered where she was. "I'll give you the same option your friend would have. You can either move on from this life, going back to the reincarnation cycle. OR, you can act as my avatar in the irregular world. If you pick this option, you'll keep all your memories, and I'll even give you a way to contact me."

"Can't I return to my old world?" Aki knew the answer, but she wanted to make sure.

"I'm sorry, but you already died. I can't return you to your old world."

Aki clutched her arms together, feeling more alone than ever. Both options left behind everything she ever knew, and everyone she cared about. Her friends, her family, her life… The pain was overwhelming. Her heart clenched in sorrow, and her mind ran a mile a minute.

"If it's too much for you, I can wash away the pain so that you forget everything."Aki heard the goddess say. She thought about it. She wouldn't feel this pain anymore, she would be able to move on. But if she did that, she would wash away everything. It would erase everything that made her, her.

She shook her head. In life, she always resolved to live her life the best she can. It's why she dragged Keitaro along, he was wasting away his life. It was a sad thought, to watch your life pass by you. So no, even in death, Akibara Nightingale would live life to the fullest.

"No." The goddess smiled at the determination in Aki's voice. "You're giving me a second chance to live my life right? I won't run away."

"Good answer." Was the goddess reply.

The goddess approached Aki, and with a touch on her forehead, a feeling of grogginess descended.

"When you next wake up, you'll be living your new life. Good luck."

"Wait…" Aki groaned. "I don't… know… what I'll be… doing…"

"I'll tell you when the time is right. For now, just live your life as you see fit. I know you'll make me proud to have chosen you."

Aki slept.

~ ~ ~




Chapter 2: The Anonymous Keeper

Elletoile Research Log number 3:

The planet of Kagaya is spit into seven major powers governing its surroundings.

The Continent that makes up the majority of Kaguya's landmass is divided between four ruling countries. The Holy Country of Luminaria to the South, the City-State of Cion to the North, the Voyager City Pacifica to the North-East, and Academia, the capital of Knowledge in the center. Each central power specializes in different fields of study, leagues ahead of the other nations.

The Holy Country of Luminaria, for example, trains Paladins and Crusaders that are the main deterrent against the Demon Lord's Army. Their Holy Spells exorcise the demonic army raised by the Demon Lord, and thus receive a lot of support during times of crisis.

Academia, the capital of Knowledge, is the site of Kagaya's largest library. Every book that has been written in the history of Kagaya can be found here. Academia also serves as an Academy, craftsmen of all walks of life aspire to receive education here, reaching the plateau of their trade.

The City-State of Cion was a country that expanded its boarders to rival the other great powers, having grown from a trade city into a superpower. It is the largest trade city in Kagaya at the time of this report.

The Voyager City of Pacifica is home to the Voyagers, a group of loosely associated people that operates on every part of Kagaya. They take on odd jobs, from monster hunting, to material collection. It's abundance of natural resources and manpower allows Pacifica to export raw materials and import goods they aren't capable of producing themselves.

To the west of the continent lay a series of islands ruled over by the Spiritual Country of Verunel, and their neighbours the West Islands Fellowship.

These two factions are constantly at ends with each other, competing in the fields of export, industry, and military power. While the West Islands Fellowship relies on industrial power and mass-production, the Spiritual Country of Verunel is a wellspring of Magical Power and spiritual innovation.

Finally, there's the Skynation of Soranium. The Skynation is located on a floating landmass, protected by Relics the people of Kagaya unearthed over the millennia. These protections and the fact that it is constantly on the move prevented the Research Vessel Elletoile from doing advanced scans, rendering Soranium un-plottable with our current equipment.

Currently, our research team is finishing preparations to conduct our first expedition into Kagaya.

"Now, if we could only blend in." The person typing on the report said. She pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, pushing up her glasses as she tried to massage away the strain placed on her eyes. She stood up, her tail pushing the chair into place, and was about to head out of the room when the door slid open on its own.

"Docto-" Yelled a researcher as she entered, slamming into the woman. The two would have landed in a heap if the woman didn't steady the young girl by grabbing her shoulders. "-ow."

"Raechie. Be more careful with your actions." The woman scolded her. "You're a researcher, act more like it."

"I'm sorry Doctor…" The girl's ears drooped in sadness, before shooting up in alarm. "But Doctor, I have something important to tell you!"

"Nonetheless, this carelessness is what leads to accidents. Keep that in mind the next time you rush cellular infusion because you were in a hurry." The Doctor said. She crossed her arms before she allowed the girl to continue. "And? What's so important that you would tackle me to the ground?"

The girl flushed, her ears flapping before she said her piece. "T-T-The Specimen, it was a s-s-success!"

"What?" The woman asked, before bolting out of the room.

"Ah, Doctor…" The girl whined, before following after her. It was perfectly understandable reaction after all, their research was a standstill until they could infiltrate the Kagaya, but that was difficult considering the personnel in the ship. "Not that I'd trade my ears for anything…"

~ ~ ~

Aki felt like she was suffocating.

Her skin prickling from head to toe, her fingers felt like they were made of lead, with frozen joints that refused to move the slightest inch. She could even feel that her whole body was submerged, and yet she had no problems breathing. She clenched her eyes shut, afraid of the strange sensations.

'Wake up' whispered a girl's voice in her mind. Her lips opened to speak, to say that she didn't want to, but her mouth was flooded with a thick liquid. Surprised, her eyes opened.

She was inside a glass tube in a strange laboratory. She couldn't see well, as the fluids in the tank tinted everything in a shade of blue, but she could just make out a person on a console beside her. She tried to move, but her limbs were slow to respond, and she merely tapped on the glass when she meant to pound on it.

She must have made quite a noise, since that was enough for the person to look up at her. And what she saw made Aki gasp.

The person was vaguely human, but one side of his jaw was covered in scales. On his forehead, across his face from the scales, was a long dark blue horn like a bull's. He wore a coat that wouldn't look out of place in a scientist's lab, but what caught Aki's attention the most was the thick tail poking out from behind him.

He smiled and seemed to be saying something, but she couldn't understand a word he said. He must have realized this, as he stopped talking, and instead turned away from her. He was looking at something at the far end of the room, and Aki looked up to see what he was staring at.

There, at the entrance to the lab was a person who seemed to be the same species as the man by the console, only that the newcomer looked vaguely more feminine. The newcomer ran up to Aki's tank, trying to get as close as possible by pressing herself against the glass, giving Aki a closer look at the person.

She had the same traits as the man by the console, with horns, scales, and a tail, but there were differences. The woman's horns had a bit more curve to them, and instead of being on the right side of her forehead, the horn was on the left side of her face. The scales were also swapped, covering the entirety of her right jaw with scales. The woman's tail was significantly slimmer and longer to, at least from what Aki could see. Her eyes sparkled behind her thin glasses, marvelling at Aki.

The two people (Dragon-kin, was Aki's stray thought) turned to each other and held a conversation, pointing and gesturing at the console and herself, until finally the man pressed a button on the console.

There was a sharp hiss above Aki, the strange fluid draining away from the tank, returning the colours to Aki's vision. After all the liquid was drained away, the glass retracted into the ceiling, welcoming Aki into a new world. She made a step-

Before she flopped into the laboratory floor, the wires attached to her body popping free from the strain. The crash would have been painful, but Aki noticed that it was oddly muted. She tried to pick herself up, her arms not cooperating at all.

Calibrating.

A text flashed into being in her sights, startling the girl. She looked up, trying to see where it came from, but the text stayed still in her vision.

Adjusting Arm response time.

Adjusting Leg pressure percentage.


More text flashed, and with it was the ease of moving her limbs. She pushed herself up, her face flushing at the embarrassing display she gave the two strangers. The woman tried to talk to her, but the man said something to her, earning a scowl from the woman.

The woman pulled out a pad from her coat, glancing up from her work to look at Aki from time to time. Aki, for her part, stared at the pad. It looked like it was made of light, with strange symbols illegible to her flying across the screen. When the woman was done, the pad emitted a beep, drawing Aki from her thoughts.

New symbols appeared in her vision, filling her sights.

Installing Language Pack.

Vocal Recognition Installed.

Visual Recognition Installed.

Verbal Communication Installed.

Written Communication Installed.


"Hello, do you understand me?" Asked the woman. Aki's eyes bugged out, nodding automatically.

The woman cheered talking about the success of the transfer to the man. He weathered the giddy Scientist with practiced ease, while the woman theorized about the possible applications for it.

Aki felt unnerved. Whatever the woman did with that pad affected her. She doesn't care that it helped bridge the language barrier between them, all she knows that the woman can do anything to her with that pad.

Finally, the woman turned back to Aki, smiling.

"I'm Clarise, your Creator. Welcome to the Elletoile." The woman introduced herself.

"Creator?" Aki asked, confused at the situation she found herself in.

"Indeed. We created you in the image of the Kagayans, using the latest biological samples and technological advancements available in Elletoile." The woman explained. "We incorporated Cielian Technology into your biological makeup. My colleagues all thought that it wouldn't work, but here you are, a biological and cybernetic being!"



Did she just call her a robot?

Aki lost her footing. The woman grabbed her arms to prevent her from falling again, asking the man what was happening.

"Well, Doctor. I think she's just tired. Despite having cybernetics integrated into her being, she is still a biological creature with biological needs. Her awakening must have taken a lot out of her. We should let her rest."

"Ah, right. Right." The Doctor babbled, dragging her towards the door. "Let's show her to her new quarters, shall we?"

"Haha. Yes Doctor."

~ ~ ~

Aki clenched her hands.

Aki opened her hands.

No matter how much she tried to listen, she couldn't hear any whirring of gears under her skin when she tried to move. For all intents and purposes, her body moved like an organic being, but if what she heard earlier was true, she was also part robot.

She took a deep breath, before breathing out.

Okay, she's calm now. She's not freaking out. She had enough of that while she was being dragged to her room. And speaking of her room…

She looked up. Her room as large as her old room in Tokyo, with a comfortable bed that folded into the wall, which she was currently sitting on. One side of the wall has a series of screens that were currently turned off, along with a mirror and a shelf.

All in all, relatively Spartan, not that she expected anything more, considering that this was a previously unoccupied room. She stood up, approaching the mirror to get the first real look she of herself since she died.

The young girl reflected on the mirror has some similarities with the old Aki, particularly her hair and proportions. She was as tall in this life as she was in her past life, coming up to around 168 cm, give or take an inch. Her hair has a bit more life to it, being a more vibrant red than it was in her past life. Her eyes were a different colour though, being a crystal-clear violet, and her body looks over all slimmer. She didn't have any extra appendages, no wings, horns, tail, or any other limb that would look out of place on a human.

She was clad in an orange long-sleeved turtle neck, purple skirt, and black leggings that hugged her form. A white belt was wrapped around her waist, with an empty holster on one side for an equipment of some sort.

She raised her hand to touch the mirror, the reflection mimicking her movements.

This was her now. A new life, the goddess said. She would live her life like she wanted to, experience things in her past life she didn't have a chance to. That thought made her excited, before she remembered the life she left behind.

'I wonder how my friends and family are doing?' She thought. 'Keitaro…'

The goddess said that she would give her a mission for this new life, but she hasn't heard from the goddess since she woke up in this world, so she felt lost on what to do. She might as well take her advise and live her life until the goddess contacts her.

There was a buzzing noise from one side of the room, before the door slid open. In walked the Doctor from earlier accompanied by a short, young girl with strange ears poking out of the side of her head.

"Good morning AK-1!" The Doctor greeted.

Aki stared blankly.

"AK-1. That's your designation." The Doctor explained. "It stands for Anonymous Keeper, with Number 1 being your registration number. You'll be participating in one of our research, so be proud to bear that name."

Aki's face scrunched up in displeasure. That sounds like a mouthful. She would rather be called a much simpler name.

"Aki." She said, glad to be keeping one thing from her old life. "Call me Aki."

The Doctor looked stunned, before beaming in happiness.

"Ah, of course. How insensitive of me. That's a wonderful name you picked, Aki." The Doctor told her, taking out her pad before she began typing on it. "Subject appears to have an acute sense-of-self. More observations are required to see if this is this is the beginnings of a functional Personality."

"Um… Doctor." The young girl interrupted. "You should do that later."

Realizing what her assistant is telling her, she relented.

"I'm sorry, I should be a better role model, shouldn't I?" The Doctor said. "Did you have a good rest?"

Aki nodded, letting the faux pas go.

"Excellent! We'll conduct a few physical tests to make sure that you're healthy and fit for the mission." The Doctor continued. "You already know what our mission is, right?"

"Yes." Aki said, being briefed about the details during one of her meals. "The Elletoile Research Vessel is on an expedition to see how the world developed in Kagaya after two Millennia has passed since the insertion of the Seeds of Society. The Seeds of Society- or 'Relics' as they are known in Kagaya- are pieces of advanced Cielian technology planted in this planet a millennia ago."

The Doctor nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"My mission is to go down into the surface of planet, integrate myself into the population, and gather information from the Relics scattered throughout Kagaya, and visit the Skynation of Soranium." Her eyes drifted to the Doctor's assistant. "While I shall infiltrate alone, a support staff of Elletoile will join me in the decent and build a base of operations on the landing site and prepare for an extraction."

When Aki finished reciting her mission, she felt more like a robot, and a bit of trepidation too.

"Indeed. Raechie will be joining you on this mission. I hope you two get along." The Doctor patted the young girl's hear, earning a blush from the girl.

"It's a pleasure to be working with you." Aki bowed. "Please take care of me."

"Ah, yeah! I will, don't worry!" Raechie's reply was more than a little flustered.

"Raechie, why don't you and Aki proceed to the Training Hall." The Doctor said.

"Eh?"

"The two of you will be working close in the coming days. I want the two of you to be better acquainted with each other, so you shall be performing her Physical Tests." The Doctor handed her the pad, and the young girl grabbed it before saluting her.

"Yes ma'am!"

"We're not in the Navy, Raechie. No need to salute." The Doctor chuckled.

"Yes ma'-… er, I mean, yes Doctor!" Raechie marched stiffly out of the door.

"Come along now, Aki."

~ ~ ~

Any doubts Aki had about her not being able to control her body properly had been washed away as soon as the tests began.

She could move faster, jump higher, stretch farther, and last longer than she ever could in her past life. She blew her High School fitness test out of the water, and then some.

Aside from the usual fitness tests, there were additional tests that Raechie helped conduct. Like that one exercise where all she had to do was hold a gauge, which would light up and measure her 'Magical Power'

That threw Aki into a loop. On top of being part-robot, a member of a Research Team conducting field surveys on a planet, and getting a second chance in life, Aki can now also use Magic?

Then Raechie explained that the Cielian Magic was complicated, and unlike the Language Program that was installed into her cybernetic half, Magic needs to be taught and practice over a long time; time that she didn't have with the mission looming over her head. But Raechie assured her that if she could use Cielian magic, it wouldn't be difficult to pick up Kagayan magic too.

"There's one last test we need to conduct." Raechie said one afternoon. Over the past few days, she has gotten to know the young researcher. Aki learned that Raechie was part of this expedition as a sociology expert. The thesis paper she wrote impressed the Doctor enough that she granted Raechie a spot as one of the crew members of Elletoile, but whenever Aki asked her what the topic of her paper was, she would blush and change the topic of the conversation.

"What are we going to do today?" Aki asked, finishing her stretches.

"Kagaya is filled with dangerous people and animals, so before we head to the surface, we're going to conduct a combat test to see how well you can protect yourself." As she said that, a staff-member brought in a rack of weapons, with some of the weapons Aki remembers from her past life. "You'll be taking one of these weapons to the surface. They have the same makeup as the Relics used by the Kagayans, though these ones are more subtle even after we modified them to have more output."

Aki browsed the weapons on the rack, not really knowing which one to pick. She didn't really know much about how to use a sword, and she hardly hit anyone when she played Airsoft in the past life, so she was at a loss on what to choose.

"Most of the weapons on the rack are created on this vessel, so they're experimental. Unlike the Navy though, we can only create them with certain specifications, so don't expect anything crazy from them" Raechie continued, looking at the pad in her hands. "Have you decided on one yet?"

"I don't know." Aki said. Her eyes roamed the weapons, unable to differentiate one kind of weapon from another. But then something caught her attention, this one a long, can-shaped object. Her hand reached out to it, and when her fingers touched it, she felt a jolt run from her spine to the weapon. As if by instinct, she grabbed hold of it, holding it out.

The cylinder handle extended out to both sides, forming a symmetrical pole. The lines along the shaft lit up in a yellow glow, starting from where she gripped the handle. When the light reached the end, one side of the pole opened up, emitting a curved light along the length of the weapon, forming a yellow energy blade.

She swung it in an arc, testing out the weight of the weapon. When she did, lighting shot out of the end where the blade was, startling Aki, Raechi and the staff-member. It left a scorch mark against the wall of the training room, piquing Aki's curiosity.

She settled into a stance, both of her hands gripping the shaft of the weapon, with the blade pointed to the back and the rear end pointing towards the wall. With an upwards diagonal slash, lightning roared from the weapon, striking at the wall again. She moved smoothly into the next movement, her footwork twirling to allow the weapon to slash in the air into another cut, this time a slanted downward slash. Again, lightning followed in her wake. Each time she would slash, the lightning would answer.

Aki continued her demonstration until she stopped in the middle of the room, all her strikes aiming at the wall, and the lightning never striking at somewhere she didn't intend to. She breathed heavily from the excretion, but a smile bloomed on her face at the thought of what she did.

"… So does this mean you've decided on your Relic?" Asked Raechi.

Instead of answering, Aki turned away from her, back towards the wall. She moved into a stance, this time the blade held aloft. The light changed from yellow to red. She slashed downward, flame blossoming to life from her blade. Using the momentum, she shifted her footing and her hold on the blade, the light morphing into a green hue, before she thrust forward. The gust it created blew apart the flames and scattered embers into the wind.

"Bravo." The staff-member clapped. He grabbed the rack and left the room, presumably to return the Relics to wherever they store it on the ship. "Take care of it."

"Well, I guess you're ready then." Raechi said, tapping a checklist on the pad. "Now all we need is the transportation."

"Oh, how are we going to the planet? By spaceship? Teleportation?" Aki asked, still in an emotional high from being able to use the weapon effectively. If only her old Naginata captain could see her now, who has sloppy movements? Not her, that's who!

"By Droppods."

"…" Aki's smile broke a little. "Come again?"

~ ~ ~

Clarise Drop, Head Scientist of the Elletoile Research Vessel, watched as the droppod containing her creation and her assistant decended into the planet, wishing both of them luck in their mission. Turning away from the window, she headed back to the laboratory where AK-1, or Aki as she wanted to be called, was created.

The Keeper Project was initially thought to be a failure of an experiment, creating brain-dead golems that are simply an expensive waste of money. Even Clarise herself gave up on it when she failed again and again. The purpose of the project was to create life forms that do not only look like the indigenous creatures of a planet, but also improve upon them by incorporating Cielian technology as they cultivated them in a lab.

And yet Aki was the outlier. What was different from her that helped spark life when all the other Keeper subjects refused to show sign any of consciousness? There must be a reason for it, and that is why Clarise is headed back to the lab. She would look into the records and monitor log to see when Aki stopped being a brain-dead shell, and turned into a breathing, thinking being.

The doors to the Keeper Laboratory slid open, admitting the woman into the room lined with tanks filled with specimens. The man that opened Aki's tank was still there, making sure that the tanks' life support never ceased functioning.

"Ah, Doctor. Welcome back."

She nodded, stepping up to the console and browsing the records of AK-1's tank. But no matter how far back she went, the conditions in AK-1's tank never deviated from the other tanks. So why did AK-1 develop consciousness, but the others didn't?

Did the biological component have an effect on it? That was possible, but that cannot be proven without tests. Unfortunately, AK-1 was needed for their main mission, as it was virtually impossible for them to survey the Kagaya without causing uproar. Aki was the only one that looked remotely like a Kagayan.

"Doctor." The man said.

"What is it, can't you see I'm busy?" Clarise said, glancing up from the console. She quirked an eyebrow when she saw him pointing at one of the tanks. She looked up.

One of the specimens was staring at her.

To be continued...
 
The Urban Barbarian
[ ] The Urban Barbarian
Genre: Transhumanist Survival

The Urban Barbarian

Judging by the heat on her back, the roaring flames were getting closer even as she sprinted to outrun them, but she dared not take her eyes off the path ahead to peek behind her. "Okay," she muttered to herself, "this place does NOT like fire!"

She had read about forest fires, but she had no way to know they could get this bad. Okay, yeah, the ground was littered with crunchy, dried-up leaves, and she had had to step past some fallen branches, but-

Her train of thought derailed when she saw a broad river ahead. With a triumphant laugh, she leaped into it - only to remember, too late, the electricity stored up in her waist-length hair. It fizzled out when she hit the water, giving her brief spots of pain across her skull and dots of false black in her vision as her brain strained to accommodate her modification's overload. But this soon passed, and a moment's pain was certainly better than being roasted alive. Once she could see clearly again, she beheld the forest on fire up to the river's bank.

Taking a moment to access her internal library for unassisted water traversal - "swimming", her dictionary program quickly informed her - she experimentally pushed down on the water, felt herself float up momentarily in return, then pushed again at an angle to slowly swim out toward the middle of the river. The water's embrace was cold - colder than this world was in general. Again her library came to the rescue, quickly showing her the thermodynamics of how water was absorbing her body heat better than air, and warning that it would stick to her body for a while after emergence. She knew the dangers of hypothermia, and while this river did not seem nearly cold enough for that, she figured it best to take no chances.

So she pushed herself against the water - "swam", she corrected herself - until she reached the far side. There, after walking fully out onto dry land, she reactivated the capacitors in her hair that fed off skull-mounted fuel cells that turned glucose into electricity when she willed it...and stumbled, the spots of pain returning, only keeping from falling over when she shot a hand out to grab a shoulder-level branch of a nearby tree. Thus steadying herself, she concentrated, slowly bringing the capacitors up until they had electrolyzed away all the water in her hair. A bit higher power, and her hair grew warm, enough to start evaporating the water off her face and neck.

The exertion made her dizzy, so she sat down, curling her arms around her legs, and draped her hair over them to dry off all four limbs off at once. Checking her clothes, her dark green flower patterned dress, shorts, socks, and shoes - printed to give the illusion of a continuous pattern, ostensibly chosen to complement her pale skin and flame red hair, actually chosen because it was the closest she could get to what she had imagined a forest looked like - appeared to be as waterproof as ever. She felt no dampness underneath them, which meant her undergarments were fine too.

Once that was done - more accurately, once she was about to pass out, so she shut off the fuel cells to prevent that - she flicked her head to snap her hair like a whip, making sure to hit open air this time instead of trying to make a campfire. Although she had never been able to make her hair move fast enough for a proper whip crack, the electricity in her hair made a reassuring, familiar spark and fizzle as she willed it to discharge. The motion also helped stop the sensation of the world rocking and spinning, and thus helped her keep down the breakfast that had been requesting permission to come back up. Satisfied that all was well, she reached for her backpack...

...and remembered she had left it back in the city so she could get to the mysterious blue rift. The rift that was now in the middle of the inferno that lit up the far shore of the river. As she gazed into the dancing conflagration, she wondered how long it would take to burn itself out, but in any case she was not going back over there any time soon. So she sat back, closed her eyes, and focused on the computer that had been implanted just behind her skull when she was 8, sending out a query for a map of the area. She still remembered the training period it took to get used to her computer, and the shorter one when she had it upgraded five years later, but now it was like another set of eyes upon the world.

##CONNECTION FAILED.##

One that still occasionally malfunctioned, though. She sighed and set it to diagnostic reboot - a fallback in case some configuration or task threatened to make the computer unresponsive. Spreading her arms behind her, she looked up, then winced as her eyes spied a bright light source. Squinting and letting her eyes adjust, she recognized the moon overhead - mostly from pictures, though on the clearer nights one could kind of make it out. Unfortunately, the city placed far more priority on clear day skies than night, most people being awake during the day, and so smog and rain clouds often obscured the moon.

##REBOOT COMPLETE. NO ERRORS FOUND. CONNECTION FAILED.##

Frowning and grumbling, she set her computer to another diagnostic reboot as she pondered the sky. It was by far the clearest night sky she had ever seen; she could even see stars, which she had only previously seen remotely through orbital telescopes. Supposedly, stars were invisible in the city thanks to the safety lights - which, looking around, she realized were not present. The moon, and that fire across the river, provided light here, and this light was different. Whereas the city at night was orange - sodium lights, the occasional trash fire, and occasionally foundries and smelters working through the night with windows where one could see their molten products (and feel the vented heat) - this land was draped in shades of blue. Looking around a bit, she spotted luminescent moss deep in tree-shadowed areas, like a plant version of glowing sapphires.

##REBOOT COMPLETE. NO ERRORS FOUND. CONNECTION FAILED.##

This was getting concerning. She sent out a request to map nearby Net nodes.

##NO NODES FOUND.##

What did it mean, no nodes found? The Net was everywhere! Even in a natural disaster, the Net was spread out and redundant enough to keep at least one node up in any given area.

And yet...there were trees, and water, and dirt and sand on the ground, but not a single building anywhere. No power feeds. No Net.

"I...I did it! I got out of the city!"

She grinned and pumped her fist just in time for her stomach to rumble. Looking again, she saw no dumpsters, no charity kitchens, no restaurants, nor any public food dispensers. And even with the water off of her, it still felt a little chilly.

Moments later, she heard the first howl.

---​

Most people make mistakes throughout their lives. In her opinion, she just got a head start by being born.

Not that she knew anything was wrong in her earliest years. If her parents focused a little more on her studies, if they were less social with her and each other than other parents, she had no way to know. When they were less than compassionate while telling her she was an unplanned pregnancy and they were only staying together to raise her, she only heard honesty, which everyone said was a virtue.

She went through the motions of childhood living the only life she knew, much like she imagined most girls did. She played and made friends, who teased her about her fantasies of personally visiting a forest some day. She read and studied about how the world used to be, how humanity had once been everywhere but was now believed to be restricted to one large city, how debris had been strewn in orbit to deny access to the heavens (and the efforts to clean it up that were expected to last for over a century), how expeditions had been mounted to recontact the rest of the world but found nothing nearby and tended to suddenly disappear if they strayed too far past the horizon.

The city was roughly a couple hundred kilometers across, about one and a half hundred million people, belted by "remote resource collection zones" - robot-run agriculture, aquaculture, solar collectors, and mines with no regular human presence - for about another hundred kilometers, then ocean and wasteland in every direction as far as anyone had been able to explore and return. High altitude remote drones confirmed the terrain varied further out, but reported no sign of human habitation within at least a thousand kilometers of the outer limits of the collection zones, nor were they able to find any traces of the missing expeditions. Radio signals bounced off the ionosphere had received no reply, either.

Wonder and an urge to explore were natural childish impulses, but her parents forbade her to go. When a field trip for to one such expedition came up and her parents insisted she stay home, she and her best friend begged each others' parents to let them have implant computers before the trip, even if they were a couple years shy of the medically advised minimum 10 years old. She practically lived in her friend's skin for the first few days of the trip, senses linked through their computers, breaking only for biological necessities (and occasionally sharing back: her meals were tastier than her friend's field rations), until the expedition went out of range. Numb from getting used to only being in her own body again, she barely registered the auditorium full of parents, some weeping and some yelling, after the expedition failed to return. Instead, she just asked her teacher if she could still go to class - and if so, if she could skip the boring parts she already knew since there were no other students.

The ensuing conversation revealed a little-known option for gifted children to take classes at an accelerated pace, and demonstrate their mastery through tests. At the most extreme, if one could pass the final exam for a class after skimming through the reading material, one could get credit for the class; enough classes skipped this way added up to a whole grade skipped. When she discussed this option with her parents, her marveling ears heard what she had never known she had long yearned for: honest, undistilled parental approval. Her mind thus set, she took to her studies with gusto, rarely setting foot on a school campus again. When she thus graduated high school at 13, the school's administrators praised her as a genius, though she sincerely believed most kids could do likewise.

Graduating high school gave her the rights of an adult. To celebrate she had her implant computer upgraded, increasing its data storage capacity far beyond what few book-based library-museums still stood, enhancing the permitted range of sensory integration, and most importantly removing the child safety restrictions, giving her full and sole administrator control over what she considered to be part of her brain. She looked forward to speaking with her parents on equal terms, with no chance of them spying on her thoughts (though they had denied doing it).

When she came home from the surgery, her father was gone and her mother was in a drunken stupor. This was unusual, but she knew there had to be some reason, so she dragged her mother away from the alcohol and tucked her in to sleep it off, then called her father. And called. And called. Five calls in a row with no pickup turned into ten over the next few hours, then three more, then one more before bed, then another upon waking, then checking on mother and setting up breakfast then another call, until finally her mother took the phone out of her hands and explained that her father was never coming back, that her parents had only stayed together for her sake and now she no longer needed them. Her next words were full of anger and frustration and she would long remember slamming the door, only to come back an hour later to find her mother had committed suicide.

She immediately came to two conclusions.

First: had she stayed in school like a normal child, she would still have had her parents, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

Second: if this was the world her parents had come from, she wanted as little of it as possible.

She deleted unread the messages from university scouts begging her to come to their institutions. She drifted, unsure what she should do, until meal times came and went and she realized she would have to cook for herself, so she did what she had done for years: take a remote class. The bureaucracy operated largely on autopilot, as she was legally an adult and the sole inheritor of her mother's property and life insurance. This spared her from having to find a job, something she was utterly in the wrong state of mind for. All she could do was learn, and plan her exit from society.

About three months later, one of the scouts was in the area, and decided to pay her a visit to see why she had apparently not yet decided which university to go to. He was not expecting to be greeted with confetti and a form to sign to claim his prize - but the girl he had come to see was offering it with a smile, so he complied. "Alright, the house is yours," was definitely not what he was expecting to hear. By the time he registered that he had just purchased her house on behalf of the university, she was gone out the back entrance.

Her plan had a few rough patches, but proved survivable enough. She found hotels that charged by the night; so long as she arrived in the morning, left by nightfall, and used only unoccupied rooms, she avoided having to pay. Being awake mostly at night greatly reduced the number of people she needed to interact with. While she had planned to consult the Net as needed, she soon discovered it was more practical to packrat away in her computer's library any information that might be remotely useful, so as to have it more quickly on hand when needed.

She verified the free (and, when those were unavailable, cheap) sources of food her classes had mentioned, developed and refined routines to distinguish edible food from spoiled after a few cases of mild food poisoning, and even managed to scrounge a cupcake and small candle to celebrate her 14th birthday alone. The one major expense she allowed herself, as a birthday present, was to get her hair wired up into a self-defense weapon she could take anywhere without seeming to be armed. She had intended it to be a whip, but it came out more of an electrified flail. It proved up to the task of lighting that candle.

Being unarmed in the eyes of the law turned out to be handier than she had planned. She was used to seeing police by day, but late at night they turned oppressive. Occasional stops became harassment once it became known she was just wandering around; as one cop told her, the city's government had no use for people who had no use for them. She spent more than one night in jail on charges that would be dismissed the next day - always during the day, when she was trying to get some shuteye. By the third time she was released, she knew she had to get out of the city.

She spent an hour every night planning out where she would sleep and eat next, then made her way on foot. When she needed to consult the Net, she stayed strictly in anonymous mode, even when the normally-automatically-granted requests for identification got irritating. What money she needed, she paid in hard currency, planning her one ATM withdrawal as if she was robbing the bank - and sure enough, the police showed up seconds after her transaction was complete, but those seconds were all she needed to hide. Dodging patrols with extreme paranoia slowed her progress considerably, especially once she left neighborhoods she was familiar with, but within a week she was almost out. Then she encountered the roadblock.

Police cruisers had gathered in front of a bridge to the outer zone, at the base of the ramp up to the top of the dikes. To reach the next nearest bridge on foot would take at least another day. Curious, she sneaked up on them and managed to catch them briefing an officer who had just arrived. Apparently there was a suspected terrorist infiltrator, someone allegedly from one of the other cities they had not been able to find yet, who had been reported suddenly taking measures to hide and making a beeline for this bridge over the past week.

She did not have much of a head for politics, but clearly they were looking for someone else, so she stood up - and was proven wrong immediately. Barely had warnings been yelled when shots were fired in her direction. She ran as best she could, wishing with all her heart for some way out, when she spied a crack of blue against the city lights' orange. Tossing her backpack down an alley as a distraction, she dove in.

And suddenly everything around her was different. Street replaced with grass. Trees where there had been buildings. No more shouts and gunfire, although several somethings ran past her; she barely got the impression of paws, fur, and muzzles as high as her waist before they ran off.

Then all was quiet. Whatever hidden place she had stumbled into, she figured she could wait an hour or two for the police to give up looking for her. There was an orange rift leading back out, like a jagged tear in the air just floating there, going from about knee level to just over her head with finger-width, hand-length branches here and there. She ducked away from it lest the police looked through and saw her.

As she sat down to examine her location, a cool breeze graced her bare arms and legs. Apparently the heating for this area was off. She knew she would not feel the full cold until her adrenaline wound down and her heart stopped racing, but if it was this cool already, she feared it might become a problem later. Reasoning that a small fire would not give her location away, and that setting one up would help take her mind off the police, she gathered up some nearby leaves and branches into a pile, charged up her hair, and whipped it to strike a spark.

---​

It was technically true that the police were indeed no longer her immediate concern. In raw physical dimensions, starting that fire was the biggest success she had achieved since leaving home. These and other snarky observations passed through her mind as she tried to tear her focus away from the shivers that howl had sent down her spine.

Not entirely succeeding, she let her gaze wander the river - when recognition clicked. Sitting up properly, she recalled the map she had consulted when planning tonight's bridge approach and crossing, instinctively calling it up from her computer's cache, and laid a transparent three-dimensional version over her vision. The contours of the river the bridge was over were almost an exact match for what she had just swam across, although the banks here were shallow and accessible as opposed to the unclimbable concrete dikes walling off the city's version.

With the false image of the city in her vision, more parallels suggested themselves. Relative to the river, the larger trees occupied the same spots that the city's buildings did, the canopy-shaded pathways between them roughly mirroring the city's streets. Even through the burning forest, she was able to visualize a path right back to the rift.

Where the blockade had been, was something large, furry, and bloody that looked somewhat like a large corpse - and, racing out of the forest just ahead of the fire, a trio of four-legged creatures who formed up around the corpse and began dragging it to a clear spot along the river bank. She focused on them, making a mental note to consider upgrading her eyes for her 15th birthday, but was able to get a good enough image to match to a forest animals database she had downloaded years ago and spent weeks reading through.

##CANIS LUPUS / "WOLF". ANCESTRAL OFFSHOOT OF DOMESTIC DOG. CARNIVORE. EXTINCT. ERROR ERROR OBSERVATIONAL DATA CONTRADICTS-##

She cut it off there, knowing the fruitless loop that was heading to. Carnivores, she reminded herself, ate meat: animals, even dead people if they could, though that corpse looked nothing like a person.

At the thought of food, she became aware of a mote of hollow pain from her abdomen. For a moment her eyes flicked over the wolves' dinner, but that was on the far side of the river, near a burning forest, and guarded by wolves. Ranking that as something to possibly investigate later, she looked around the forest on the side of the river she was on. Her immediate line of sight only saw unappetizing wood, dirt, and grass, but if the map of the forest corresponded to the map of the city, then a parallel to the farm she had planned to "permanently borrow" from would be a block ahead. With that thought, she got back to her feet and pushed forward.

The city's farms were neat, orderly stacks of trays of small plants - engineered since the beginning of agriculture, many thousands of years ago, for larger edible portions and smaller everything else - with a hive of specialized robots crawling all over them, surrounded by a chain link fence to keep out vermin. Security was not the tightest, but she knew the farms might be her last food source before leaving the city so she would have to take a lot without being noticed, to last her until...she was sure she would think of something. She always had so far.

The forest's analogue was a grove of fruit trees - apple, pear, avocado, even a few varieties of citrus further in, practically an orchard - with mushroom patches here and there. She knelt down to pluck one stool, rolling it around in her hand, and sniffing it briefly to contemplate its faint scent before opening her mouth to-

##NEUROTOXIN DETECTED##

She dashed the mushroom on the ground and stepped back, eyes wide, as the analysis processed. It was not an exact match, but the poison chemical signatures database she had downloaded - after she read that some restaurants laced their dumpsters with rat poison when they feared an infestation - was pinging close enough based on scent and color. Fortunately, none of it had touched her lips or tongue, though it had been a very close call.

Thus on guard, she regarded the fruit warily. Picking one low-hanging apple, its familiar red just seeming dark in the bluish light, she sniffed and let her analysis process this time. When that returned inconclusive, she bit in, intending to take it slow but the juice that oozed out when her teeth sunk in was sweet and fresh and delicious and yummy and her stomach was rumbling again and before she knew it she was nibbling on the core to extract the last edible chunks before wiping her hand on her lips to get the juice that had dribbled all over her face. Fortunately, the apple was not poisoned.

She saw no trash bins, and the poison mushrooms were basically things to be avoided anyway, so she dropped her apple core among them, then plucked and ravaged another apple, depositing its core right next to the first. Still a bit hungry but no longer dangerously so, she decided to wash up before going further, only to realize she had seen no restrooms here. The only water she had so far seen was the river, so she returned there.

The wolves were still guarding their dinner from the fire, though the fire had died down somewhat. She knelt on the riverbank, giggled at the mess of juice on her face when a lewd corner of her mind suggested a vulgar comparison, and cupped her hands in the water when a motion on the far bank caught her eye. One of the wolves had lifted a hind leg, rear quarters aimed squarely at the river, and...

"Eww," was the entire content of her conscious thoughts as she watched.

She regarded the water in her hands, considering if it was safe to apply to her face. She did not smell urine, so hopefully the river would wash that objectionable product downstream. Carefully not thinking about whether any wolves upstream might have done the same, she washed her face but did not let any of it get in her nose or mouth.

This water was not safe to drink, she decided, but it was the only water she had yet seen, so she reviewed her options. She could scout around for more, risk finding nothing, and die of dehydration. She could return through the rift and get something to drink there. Or she could purify the water - if she knew how, and that was not something she had thought to download. Obtaining that knowledge would require returning through the rift too.

Her only safe options involved going back. The fire seemed to have played out enough that she could risk returning now, but she had to get past those wolves. Her database said they had a better sense of smell than humans, so although she would have just bathed - having swum back across the river - she decided against chancing stealth, and instead just openly approaching them. Surely, unlike police, they would not be hostile on sight.

That notion was disproven two thirds of the way across, when the wolves spotted her swimming right for them. Although they spoke no words, their raised fur, alert postures, bared teeth, and growls communicated at a more primal level. Pausing for only a moment, she altered course to come ashore a short distance downstream - then corrected course again to upstream, as the earlier unpleasant vision popped up in her mind's eye. The wolves tracked her, and began slowly advancing even as she climbed out of the water and set her hair on a low charge to quickly dry out.

She glanced at them, and they picked up the pace. She began walking quickly for the burnt trees, and they picked up the pace She broke and ran, and they picked up the pace. Untrained human legs proved no match for trained pack hunter legs, and soon the lead wolf leaped at her, claws bared and mouth, already drooling in anticipation of imminent feeding, ready to bite.

Seeing this just in time, she grabbed the wolf's forelegs and pushed away. The wolf's maw bit only air just short of her neck, but the momentum bowled her over, landing her on her back hard and scraping her dress on the ground as they slid to a stop.

With no time for pain as she tried to roll left and right, both to dodge the snapping jaw and to try to dislodge the beast, she snapped her head up to flail her hair into the wolf's eyes - which at least got her assailant to pause and blink for a moment. That was all she needed.

She charged up one half of her hair, just the part in contact with one eye. Current went from charged hair, to wolf eye, up and down the optic nerves, out the other eye, and into uncharged hair. The wolf barely got out a whimper before all brain activity ceased.

The other two wolves had been circling, looking for an opening. While wolf cognition was not directly comparable to human, they easily processed the fact that their partner had just attacked this strange intruder and was now dead. Wasting no time, they fled into the night.

The girl groaned, now having time for pain, and felt her back where she had made impact with the ground. Her dress was torn but already beginning to mend itself, and she felt no blood though there was the beginning of a bruise on the back of her head, fortunately under her hair where no one would see. Slowly standing up to make sure nothing was broken, she checked her arms and chest and found a few slight puncture wounds on her shoulders where the wolf's claws had found momentary purchase.

Her medical supplies were in her backpack, one more reason to head back. So, pausing only to pick up her first kill's corpse and heft it over one shoulder, she trudged back through the blackened forest to the clearing and its lack of rift.

She blinked. Had she gotten lost? No, this was definitely the place: low branch here, over there was the clear patch of ground she had removed all the branches from, and the rift should be right over in that empty patch of air.

She stared at it, eyes growing a bit wide, then shook her head. No, no this was impossible. Openings like that did not just disappear. Surely this was inside a building or, or something, surely she was not stuck here with no water or medicine or processed food or metal or beds or people or-

Her train of panic cut off when a brief orange flare attracted her attention. There was the rift again, a bit smaller but serviceable. Not wanting to question further lest it close again, she shoved the dead wolf through then climbed in after it.

---​

The other side had smelled of wood and smoke and char. The city smelled of rock and smoke and char.

Emergency lights flashed here and there, on various first response bots sweeping the area, their spotlight eyes swinging back and forth in their attempts to find anyone they could rescue. Where before the city was various shades of orange, now it was orange and black. While the city was far more resistant to a large fire than a forest was, flame still left soot and fouled air in its wake. As she entered the alley she had left her backpack in, she breathed in a lungful of fire's aftermath and coughed, crouching in the hopes of finding fresher air close to the ground, in which she was successful.

"HUMAN VOICE DETECTED. ATTENTION, ATTENTION, IS A SURVIVOR IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE?"

Not that she had much time to savor her success. She averted her eyes in anticipation, moments before a white spotlight that would have briefly blinded her swept into the alley. Out of the corner of her eye, the smoke swirling in the wake of the robot's ducted fans was almost more visible than the bot itself, despite the robot's chromed ovoid body - something like a torso-sized floating gleaming metal potato - being studded with blinking blue and red LEDs. Its head swiveled like a turret, the shining eye locking onto her and narrowing its spotlight to barely cover her, shining proportionately brighter as it illuminated less area.

"SURVIVOR FOUND! MINOR INJURIES DETECTED. SURVIVOR, ARE YOU ABLE TO STAND?"

She frowned and looked back at the rift. It was still there, but torso-sized and shrinking; she doubted she would be able to escape back through now. "Yes." Knowing the robot was unable to patch her wounds and would not be interested in doing so anyway, she began looking around for her backpack, pointedly not actually standing up.

"ANALYZING VOICE...SUSPECT!" The white spotlight turned an accusatory brilliant red in a heartbeat. "CEASE AND DESIST FURTHER OPERATIONS WHILE LAW ENFORCEMENT IS SUMMONED."

"Suspect?" She blinked, but still did not look directly at it. Rumor said the red spotlight was supposed to be some sort of hypnotic agent to force confessions, but she suspected that was just rumor, and it was just so the police could instantly see who the robot thought might be a criminal. "Of what?" For a moment she considered smashing the thing. She knew robots like this were unarmed, and while made to look durable, sported a flimsy enough shell that even she could make a solid dent in a single punch if she tried. But she also knew the police would arrive before she could disable it.

"PROCESSING QUERY...REQUEST FOR IDENTIFICATION OF CHARGES. DIRECTIVE: SUSPECT HAS RIGHT TO KNOW WHAT SUSPECT IS ACCUSED OF. COMPLYING." It almost sounded disappointed, but she knew robots were not capable of emotion. "CHARGES ARE: TERRORISM, EVADING ARREST, GRAND ARSON."

"T-terrorism?!? What?" Even as she spouted denial, her mind flashed back to the overheard police discussion. Apparently she really had been the one they had been seeking, for some reason. "Though, yeah, I guess I did burn the forest."

"CORRECTION: 'FOREST' NONEXISTANT. SUSPECT IS ACCUSED OF BURNING INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT TO COVER ESCAPE."

"Say what? They think..." She gestured to the scorched buildings all around. "...I did this? I wasn't even here!"

"EVIDENCE FILED STATES: ABERRANT BEHAVIOR DETECTED. ARREST ATTEMPTED. SUSPECT FLED. MINUTES LATER, INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT CAUGHT FIRE. CONCLUSION: SUSPECT SET FIRE TO COVER ESCAPE."

"C'mon. If I did that why am I still here?"

"UNKNOWN. EXTRACTING DATA TO FURTHER CORROBORATE."

"Extracting-" Moments too late, she felt her implant computer acknowledge and grant an override request. While her computer did not specify where it was coming from, the source was obvious. As she tried in vain to shut it down, she yelled out, "Get out of my brain! You're violating my rights!"

"DIRECTIVE: TERRORISTS HAVE NO RIGHTS. QUERY: ARE YOU A TERRORIST?"

"No!"

"DILEMMA. ANALYZING...CONCLUSION! ACCORDING TO LOG DATA, AT THE TIME THE FIRE STARTED SUSPECT WAS..."

She braced to run, though the bot blocked the only exit from the alley. For a moment she thought she saw another branch to the alley, another way out, but it was just another column of black soot on a wall.

"...OUT OF RANGE OF ALL CITY TRANSPONDERS, THEREFORE NOT IN INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT. SUSPECT COULD NOT HAVE STARTED FIRE. SUSPECT IS THEREFORE INNOCENT OF GRAND ARSON. NO FURTHER CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE OF TERRORISM REMAINS. SUSPECT IS THEREFORE INNOCENT OF TERRORISM. NO WARRANT REMAINS TO SUPPORT ARREST, SO NO LEGAL ARREST WAS POSSIBLE, SO THERE WAS NO ARREST TO EVADE. SUSPECT IS THEREFORE INNOCENT OF EVADING ARREST. ALL CHARGES EXPUNGED."

The spotlight turned white again. She nearly tripped and landed on her face as her tension suddenly vanished. She had heard of retroactive justification of charges like this, but only as the plot of poorly-written shows. The revelation that police really were (in her opinion) that idiotic hit her harder than that she had just escaped the consequences.

"ALERT! SECONDARY MASS ANALYZED!" The spotlight eye blinked over the wolf corpse for a moment. "CANINE!" Then back to her, red again. "SUSPECT! THIS IS NOT A REGISTERED COMPANION! WHERE IS ITS TRANSPONDER?"

She glanced at the wolf. "You think I killed someone's pet? Does this look like a dog? It's a wolf!"

"ANALYZING. MASS IN EXCESS OF TYPICAL COMPANION. NO REGISTERED COMPANIONS APPROXIMATE MASS AND COMPOSITION. LABEL 'WOLF' MATCHES CANIS LUPUS, REGISTERED WILD ANIMAL SPECIES. SUSPECT HAS ENGAGED IN HUNTING. SUSPECT HAS NO RELEVANT LICENSE. FINDING APPLICABLE LAW."

She tensed up to run again.

"CANIS LUPUS STATUS: EXTINCT. NO LAWS FOUND REGULATING THE HUNTING OF EXTINCT ANIMALS." The spotlight went white once more. "ALL CHARGES EXPUNGED."

For a moment she considered accusing the robot of trying to kill her via heart attack, but decided against it. "If you're going to keep holding me here, can you at least help me find my backpack?"

"SEARCHING...ITEM LOCATED IN IMPOUND. RELEVANT CHARGE EXPUNGED. ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT FILING OFFICER - ERROR: FILING OFFICER DECEASED. OWNER LOCATED NEAR CURRENT POSITION. ARRANGING FOR DELIVERY."

"Thanks. Err...you said he died?"

"OFFICER DIED OF ELECTROCUTION NINE MINUTES FIFTY EIGHT SECONDS AGO. CITIZEN'S LOGS CONFIRM CITIZEN WAS HUNTING OUT OF RANGE OF ALL CITY TRANSPONDERS AT THAT MOMENT."

She blinked and accessed her computer. Sure enough, that timestamp matched up exactly with when she had killed the wolf, after adjusting for the two seconds for her to process the robot's declaration and look it up.

As she did so, she heard a whistling from above. Sighing and rolling her eyes at the theatrics of whoever was handling rapid delivery for the city these days, she extended her arm and held out a hand, not even bothering to look. Sure enough, moments later, the reassuring weight and texture of her backpack gently expressed itself on her open palm.

She immediately opened a side pocket, plucked out a thumb-length, white-with-red-cross tube of skin regenerator, popped open its flip cap, and dabbed it onto each point the wolf had breached her flesh. Relief flooded her system as the slurry went to work, repairing cells and mending flesh until it was as if she had never been injured. She resisted an urge to sigh, with the smoke still around.

"PRECAUTIONARY QUERY: WHAT DOES CITIZEN INTEND TO DO WITH HUNTING PRODUCT?"

Closing the tube, putting it away, and putting on her backpack, she replied, "The wolf? Eat it, I guess. Why?"

"ANALYSIS INDICATES HUNTING PRODUCT IS UNSAFE TO CONSUME IN ITS PRESENT FORM." The robot's spotlight narrowed to a beam, glinting in the smoke, and spun to point toward the river. "NEAREST LICENSED FABRICATION FACILITY LOCATED IN DIRECTION INDICATED. ALSO, CITIZEN IS ADVISED TO LEAVE THIS ZONE IMMEDIATELY. PARTICULATE COUNT OF LOCAL AIR EXCEEDS STANDARDS."

Taking in a breath through her nose reminded her of the truth of that. Reasoning that two of the officers on the blockade would have been reassigned to search and rescue after the fire, and the third one was dead, she slung the wolf over one shoulder and made for the bridge.

---​

"Over the river and through the woods, if only I could remember the rest," she half-sang, half-muttered as she trudged across. The bridge was a ramp up, a span of flat rock suspended at a height roughly two to three times her own, and a ramp back down, as if existing in part to justify the dikes, or the dikes were there to justify the bridge.

Looking down at the river - aside from the artificial shores, and the smooth concrete bottom where she saw fish-like robot submarines with brushes scouring away silt, it looked like the same river. Water was water, but this flowed in roughly the same shape, to the same depth. For a moment she considered jumping in, but she was certain the only way out was far downstream where the river escaped the city, and she was not in the mood to swim those many kilometers just then.

At least the smoke was rapidly dissipating as she crossed. The fresh air smelled positively sweet in comparison. She tilted her head back to sniff in a large breath - and thus looking up, spied a crack in the clouds through which the moon shone, as if it had opened up just to shine on her, though she knew it was probably just the air scrubbers taking care of all that smoke, and thus suddenly caring about the local sky almost as much as they did in the day. The moon looked stony white, not as dominant in the night sky or as blue as it had on the other side of the rift, but it still reassured her.

But was it the same moon? As she walked along, she projected recorded images from beyond the rift on her eyes' vision of the city, and was once again struck by the similarities. Stepping down the ramp on the far side of the bridge, she came into view of the farm - and, sure enough, the vertical gardens were placed in the same pattern as the orchard's trees had been.

Yet more of a coincidence was that some of these gardens bore engineered fruit. Rather than a full apple tree, it hosted bushes - no, modified branches, as she instinctively looked up publicly available articles about her interest of the moment. Plants that were mostly fruit, to minimize unused material, as opposed to trees of the past that wasted most of their mass on wood and leaves.

She frowned as she noticed something out of place at the base of a certain collection of apple gardens. Being highly engineered, incidents of rotten fruit should be - were, a quick check confirmed - very low.

So what were two apple cores doing there, side by side at the base of the structure, with rot patterns that looked very much like bite marks?

As she mulled this artifact, her feet swept her along the path to a flat, imposing, solid-looking, one story brick-and-mortar building, one side lined with terminals with a keypad next to a screen, the both of them over a large bin. If the faded and chipped bricks had not clued her into the building's age - bricks having given way to more modern techniques centuries ago - she could have recalled her history lessons or looked it up: fabricators like this were early city centers, where one could exchange raw materials for manufactured goods, run for the convenience of all citizens. Coming up with new designs for fabricators to make available had been a full-time career for generations of the city's brightest talents, or so her teachers had said. This building, including its various upgrades over time, was older than her age squared, making its origins ancient beyond any measure she cared about.

She almost felt humble. But right now, the apples were beginning to leave her stomach. Meal time pressed.

Walking up to the terminal on her far left - the furthest from the river, and thus getting closer to the city limits with every step - she slapped her hand on a mouth-and-sound-waves button and waited for the cheerful near-monotone response she was used to from other processors.

"WELCOME! PLEASE SPECIFY METHOD OF PAYMENT."

"Barter," she shot back near-reflexively. This, at least, was familiar to the point of mundanity from her long trek. "No bank access." She shuddered briefly as memories of her last ATM withdrawal suggested themselves, even if she was probably no longer being tracked.

"PLEASE PLACE BARTER ITEMS IN BIN." In her opinion, the best thing about machines of mercantile nature was that they did not judge, outside the scope of what made a good deal.

She dropped the wolf into the bin with a solid thunk, and began a mental countdown. The corpse had been a load, but within her carrying capacity. Just as her count reached zero, the bin retracted, having waited exactly as long for her to present any more items as every other processor had. Although she could no longer see inside the bin, she knew that the wolf was being scanned in many different ways, to identify its nature and molecular composition. It was likely being dissected already, even before she had agreed to relinquish it - though she supposed the legal fine print flashing on the screen she never bothered to read had a clause about how placing it in the bin was surrendering it.

"ITEM ACCEPTED. ESTIMATED VALUE-"

"Just give me some food, and maybe some clothes. Best option for value," she interrupted, skipping the lengthy back and forth about price, composition, goods that could be crafted from the materials on hand, and so forth. "I authorize you to keep what you don't use to pay for it."

"REQUEST ACKNOWLEDGED." She imagined she felt a brief pulse of heat as an infrared scanning laser took in her measurements, though despite knowing these machines did that she still had yet to actually find their laser. Some machines just had an aspect of ninja like in the stories, she supposed. "PROCESSING WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY FIVE MINUTES."

Knowing this would be just long enough for her to get bored if she did not distract herself with something, she thought back to the rift. It had appeared when she was afraid, and thinking hard about a way out or a way back home, and it had definitely been gone when she first returned to the area. On this side it had the alien light of the forest - and, she supposed, the city's lights seemed alien as well from the forest side, orange surrounded by the exact same shade of blue like that distracting light from down the street...

Her head snapped up, and her wondering eyes beheld another rift, hovering in midair on the far side of the street, just in front of the farm's chain link fence, hovering at about her waist level.

She crossed the street, not bothering to look first as she trusted her ears to tell her of incoming traffic, not that there usually was any in the hours she was active. Although this rift was not wide enough to crawl through, it was enough to look through, though she had to kneel to do so.

It took her one second to identify the fruit grove she had been to earlier, and a few more to line up her view through the rift to the rotten apple cores. Sure enough, on the forest side there was that same patch of mushrooms, and the cores she had left there.

Before she could do more than nod at her conclusion, the processor behind her chimed its completion, so she stood up and walked back to it, willing the rift to follow her. Once across the street, she looked back, but the rift had not budged. She relaxed her focus until the rift began to shrink, then focused on the forest right next to her, which just made the rift on the far side of the street grow again.

Tilting her head, she turned to look at the bridge, then concentrated on the forest's river and its far bank. Through the smoke on the far side, she saw another faint blue flash; quickly plotting direction and rough distance she realized that was the original rift. Struck with inspiration, she concentrated hard on the rift, pulling it wide open so the smoke could clear more quickly. In half a minute she saw the top of the rift climb over the smoke. Pumping her fist in satisfaction, she returned her attention to the processor and its once again open bin.

A few cooked steaks were there, on a platter that looked like rib bones slightly melted and fused together - which, she realized, was probably exactly what it was. Next to it were four tubes of fur: bracers and leg warmers, with buttons made of bone.

She wrinkled her nose. "That's it?"

"PRESENTED MATERIALS WERE OF SUBSTANDARD QUALITY. FOOD IS GUARANTEED SAFE TO EAT. CLOTHING MATERIAL UPGRADED TO CURRENT SELF-CLEANING SANITARY CLOTHING STANDARD."

Shrugging, she took a plastic food container from her backpack and placed all but one of the steaks inside, quickly decided to leave the macabre tray, put on the fur tubes, and looked at her reflection in the polished metal of the processor. She soon smiled in approval, deciding that this was a good step toward looking like a proper lady of the forest. Grabbing the last steak and taking a bite to get in the mood, she swallowed, tilted her head to the sky, and gave her best imitation of a wolf howl.

Which was soon answered from across the bridge.

She nearly dropped her steak. Surely she had imagined it. Surely there was not a sudden surge in emergency lights and sirens over there. Surely those gunshots and screams and sounds of rending metal-

"Okay," she muttered to herself. "Not only does that place not like fire, it is also vengeful."

As the initial moment of dread passed, she contemplated her options. To outside appearances she was just watching the chaos from a very safe distance while munching on a steak, but her mind raced, looking up what data she could.

The tactical feeds - police body cameras, mainly - were, predictably, a confused mess. While the cops might ordinarily have an advantage, the smoke let the wolves close in; lack of tactics, and the panic that took hold for want of experience in this sort of situation, claimed more lives than the wolves themselves, though the invading pack was apparently taking its fair share of losses too.

Fortunately, what few civilians had been present had been evacuated during the fire earlier. There were the usual blog posts and video feeds, none of them particularly helpful. At least their location stamps suggested that everyone had been evacuated in another direction - mostly to the sides along the river, rather than across it - so there was no one on her side of the mess to bother her. That suited her just fine.

Querying online for information about wolf behavior bore more fruit. Apparently, wolves acted in packs, and would attack if they felt threatened. It took but moments to realize the rift itself likely seemed threatening; the wolves were trying to attack it, passing through, and winding up unleashing their fury on targets of opportunity - namely, the police who came to investigate. So, she just needed to close the rift to put an end to the madness. If panic and worry and concern were how she opened it, she reasoned, then calm detachment would hasten its closure.

She took in a breath and closed her eyes to center herself, only for another scream from across the bridge and another emergency broadcast to send her reeling. She tried turning off her computer's reception for a moment, but the sounds of battle still unnerved her, and clapping hands over ears failed to silence them enough.

Heart pounding as she tried to put aside that people were dying every minute and it was all her fault, she stumbled around and wound up looking back at the farm - and where the second rift had been. Inspiration quickly begat determination, and she poured all her anxiety into that spot. Sure enough, the rift flared open before her, easily big enough to run through, so that was exactly what she did.

Quiet and tranquility embraced her like a blanket the moment she was across. While she could still hear the carnage through the rift, it was muted, with her no longer being in direct line of sight. She could see the large rift, though, the top peeking above the trees to show smoke and orange walls.

Here, she could find peace. Centering herself successfully this time, she focused on the large rift and envisioned it shrinking, its turbulence calming. After a minute of this she opened her eyes again, and the rift was no longer visible. She kept it up for another minute to be safe.

Knowing that what wolves remained on the far side would soon be taken care of, and figuring the best thing she could do was to get as far away from trouble as possible, she oriented herself on the river and the orchard, then walked away from the river down the street-like forest path.

---​

Hours later, she finally reached the edge of the forest. According to her map, this corresponded with the city limits almost perfectly. She raised a foot to step over the line...

...and as her shoe met open grass, the sun finally peeked over the horizon, sunlight dispelling the night as she walked the rest of the way over the line. Euphoria washed over her as a sunbeam kissed her skin, so she held up a fist and shouted, then listened to her voice's echo.

Mission completed, she turned around and saw the city overlaid on the forest behind her, a whim calling up imagery from her computer. Opening another rift did not bring up the expected orange flash, but instead wasteland brown and sand to contrast the grassy field she now stood upon. Poking her head through, she beheld the forest overlaid on the city.

The city, and its beds.

Looking around, she saw a whole lot of nothing in every direction except back. Grass on one side, and rock and sand on the other, seemed to stretch out to infinity, meeting the sky on a flat horizon. Remembering that she had resolved to figure something out at this point, and realizing it was getting late by her internal clock, she crossed fully over to the city side and walked back in, barely noticing as she crossed the edge of the city with her mind on locating the day's shelter. There were no hotels this close to the city limits, but she managed to scrounge a pillow and blanket, then hopped back to the forest to sleep the day away in the shaded boughs of a large tree, charging her hair for a few moments to heat the air under her blanket, because even by day the forest was a bit chilly.

For a while this was how she lived, slipping from one world to the other. But she was still human, with science and curiosity her birthright just as much as it is for the rest of us. She wandered the two worlds for most of the next year, assembling a mostly-complete map of the forest and further observing what tweaks she could do to one side that would affect the other, before she decided to figure out just how she was opening the rifts.

She made contact with a university, where they observed as she tested her power, expanding and enhancing it while learning its nature. It turned out to be a "quantum resonance"; she did not understand all the words or details, but something about her body and her implant computer happened to "line up with" a weak point in the barrier between the city and a world that was "next to" the city but not in any of the six cardinal directions. She had chanced upon a trick to amplify that weakness, causing a "wormhole" to open up for a short while.

The scientists were excited, and they probed and measured for weeks until she could take no more and departed in an annoyed huff. Still, she believed they had obtained the basics, and eagerly followed their reports in the news. Sure enough, a few years later they started opening ways to other worlds - never hers, even when they found a purple-mist-choked jungle it was not her blue-lit forest, but she was okay with that.

Credited as the pioneer (little more than an offering to try to get her back in the lab, in her opinion, but she at least sent them a sincere thank-you letter) and thus gifted with minor fame, people came to her, some with words she had not known she had been searching for all this time. Suddenly filled with purpose, she took a hoverbike and set off to the north, slipping in and out of drones' attempts to track her in flashes of blue, somehow - "impossibly", her trackers swore at the time (having thought themselves such masters of truth they did not read the news) - living off the land and thereby slipping the government's supply line leash.

She would never have found the mass grave if her friend's computer had not been waiting for her call after all these years, giving her a homing signal once she got close enough and transmitted. Nor would she have seen said computer's recording of her friend's final moments, which confirmed the rumors that expeditions were being sacrificed to "confirm" the propaganda that there was nothing worth seeing in person beyond the city. And if she had not had a positive reputation as the people learned of her earlier scientific discovery, perhaps she would not have been believed when she broadcast this grim discovery, howling in the anguish of a freshly reopened wound.

But what happened next is another story, for another time.
 
Harvest of Heather
[ ] Harvest of Heather

Genre: Science Fantasy

Heather flinched at the slap. Rough treatment was something she was used to, but that did not make it pleasant. The man before her reeked of alcohol, even through the stench of the rags she wore. That was always a bad sign and would alert her to the fact that her existence was going to be a bit more miserable than normal for the remainder of the encounter.

She turned to run. She was a short, undernourished sixteen year old in rags whose previous bruises and abrasions had never had a chance to heal before being replaced by new ones, while his muscular frame easily showed off his defined musculature and the scars and tattoos of someone who would not easily be deterred by pain, even if it was not being dulled by drunkenness. He had shaved away any hair she could otherwise yank, while hers was ragged from her failures to cut it properly.

Unfortunately, the man had much better reach than her. He grabbed her as she turned and flung her to the floor. She whimpered as she struck the tar beneath her. "I asked you why you Pakis don't leave." The man spat at her. "The blacks have already taken our jobs. I don't need no Pakis making the problem worse."

Technically, those of Indian descent, like herself, were actually more common in South Africa than those from Pakistan, making the mistake even less reasonable. Of course, the slur would not have been acceptable, even if she had belonged to the group it described.

She got up onto her hands and knees and crawled away from the light of the street lamps. It was a moonless night and the litter which was strewn along the side of the street was something she hoped to blend in with. She was not far from the dump in which she had slept ever since running away from her adoptive parents and she knew the streets well. The pain, humiliation and hunger she felt was still not enough to make her regret her decision. She had not liked the way her new father had looked at her. It was a look not unlike the expression worn by the man who walked towards her from the street light, but at least she would presumably only have to deal with that man for a single night.

Suddenly, the man's eyes widened and he stumbled backward, dropping the beer bottle he held in his left hand. Heather felt war and a pink light surrounded her. She wondered for those three seconds whether or not she had acquired a guardian angel, like those she had heard about in the orphanage. Had one decided that she had finally suffered enough? That she had endured the punishment needed to pay for any past sins she had committed to deserve her current fate? That it was finally time for something unambiguously good in her life?

Her longing contemplation was interrupted by a feeling of being sucked through a pipe that was far too thin. Her vision snuffed out and a storm of screeching filled her ears. She felt herself inflate again and light returned to her eyes in a glaring display of fluorescent tubes, the shine of metal, the spark of electricity and shades of red she could not identify. Nor could she identify the dark shapes moving within the light as she blinked away the glare. The rest of her body noticed an immediate difference. It was cold and her body felt crushed, like a large weight had been dropped upon her. It was also noisy. One of the noises was her own scream. Other sounds included hums, throbs and sparks of machinery, and something else, in the background. There were also calls of gibbering. Yet, despite not being recognisable as any form of language, she suddenly understood the meaning of the closest anyway. "We've got another one! Take it for processing!"

She blinked some more and realised that the things calling to each other were large, muscular creatures, like enlarged rhinos pumped full of steroids. They had six, hoofed legs and hardened plates over their leathery, grey skin. Their faces were mostly flat, but they had large brow ridges over their four eyes and a large, bony, upturned spike in the middle of their faces. Spines ran down their backs to a thick tail ending in a thagomizer. There were tendrils dangling from the back of their heads, which clung to various unidentifiable tools. The nearest one grabbed her with its tendrils and began to drag her. "No!" she squealed. "Get away from me you demon!"
"What else could these things be?" she had reasoned. Especially as she had so ambitiously and with such entitlement assumed that she was being rescued by the opposite.
She recognised the sound that the creature made as laughter. "You think I am a demon? That's rich."

She wriggled out of its grasp in its lapse of attention.

"Hey! A little help here, please!? It's not easy to drag without damaging it!" At the creature's call, three more stomped on over and grabbed her as well. She continued to thrash as she was pulled onto a metal table. More of the creatures awaited her. Unlike the previous ones, which had been dressed in cloaks of grey and brown splotches, these were covered in tight-fitting, white plastic.

Heather screamed again as she saw one pick up what was clearly a knife. "Hold it down," the knife-wielder grumbled. She was squeezed tighter as the creature lifted a set of lenses to its eyes. She screamed once more as the knife penetrated the skin in the back of her neck, but she was starting to get hoarse and soon began a pitiful whimpering, punctuated by sobs. The creature held up a round, metallic object before her eyes, clearly showing it to her. It then shoved the object into the incision at the back of her neck, causing her to gasp at the sudden intrusion and increase in pain. Her sobs deepened in rhythm with the insertion of the needle which sewed her back up again. When finished, the creature that had maimed her turned her head to face another table. Upon the table lay another of the round objects, like the one in her neck. The creature pointed a device at the object and pressed a button. The object on the table exploded. "Do you understand?" asked one of the cloaked creatures, gruffly.
Heather nodded. "Yes," she whispered.
The creature turned away from her. "Put it with the others."

Heather was dragged to her feet and she stumbled her way into the dark room she was led to, before collapsing to the floor. The room was neither empty, nor filled with the nightmarish monsters that had been manhandling her. Instead, it was a menagerie of various creatures of highly diverse shape and size. Some of them had been chained to the wall and all of them had wounds that had been freshly stitched together. The door would repeatedly open to throw in yet another creature, fresh from having been sliced up and sewn back together. As it was cold, Heather huddled against her fellow victims, but found that only some of them radiated heat like herself.

Eventually, the lights turned on. Their kidnappers stood behind a window. "We apologise for the pain," said one. "We couldn't risk anaesthetics. The little we know about your biologies was recorded by those with no desire to help make you suffer less."
"If you really care about our suffering, why did you kidnap us, cut us up and stick bombs in us?" growled a creature with a long, worm or snake-like body, which crawled on a multitude of three-fingered limbs.
"An unfortunate necessity," came the reply. "You should know that those will detonate if you ever leave, tamper with them, or if we feel you've become a danger to us."
"You're not doing well when it comes to convincing us that you have our best interests at heart," Heather responded.
"I'll get to that," the creature dismissed her. "We didn't always do this procedure. It became necessary after we had defectors. We cannot afford to give the enemy more resources. They have enough already. That is why we brought you here. We need the reinforcements. You are now part of the resistance."
"Who is this enemy?" asked a slimy creature with tentacles around its mouth.
"And why should we help you?" added a scaly creature with four claws and a tail below a more humanoid torso, with horns upon its fanged head. "Especially after the way we've been treated so far?"
"Well, firstly, you'll help us because we have bombs implanted next to your brains," replied their kidnapper. "And if you ever want your freedom again, whether to return home, or not, you'll do as we say.
"Secondly, the enemy is known as the Initiative. Our planets were once at peace, but one of their scientists wanted to speed up travel between them and to use that to further his own ambitions. It was he who developed the technology to tear holes in space, to travel to vast distances, or even to other universes. But other things followed back through the holes. The demons so many from both our planets had dismissed as convergent mythology crawled through the holes. They flattered the scientist, calling him brilliant and deserving of reward for his discovery. They whispered in his ear that he had proven himself as the driving force behind the Initiative and deserved the position that implied. He led a coup and assassinated the previous emperor, coronating himself as the next. He then conquered our planet as well. Since then, his dynasty has been consolidating its power over our planets and preparing to expand.
"Don't make the mistake of thinking that this would have never affected you had we left you out of it. We only know about your worlds because of hacked reports from the demons. The current emperor already knows about your worlds and one day, he will attack them. His family has been preparing since his grandfather's coup."
"'One day'?" asked a creature with pincers, but prehensile feet. "That's not very convincing when it comes to the claim that this would've affected us anyway. If they haven't attacked any planets in generations, why should we fear they'd attack now?"
"Are you eager to take that chance with your world?" asked their warden. "In any event, the current emperor is petulant, easily bored and has inherited his grandfather's ambition. He won't remain content to rule such a small portion of space for long."
"And why do you need us?" asked Heather. "What can we do that you can't? Are we just here to be your canon-fodder?"
"Well, we will train you, because we certainly hope you'll end up as more than that, much as we'd appreciate the sacrifice of any who end up that way," came the reply. "But, we do have limitations which are not the same as yours. Facial recognition software knows us. It cannot easily pick up new species without too many false positives from the wide variety of demons out there.
"We are too large to get through most of the parts of the emperor's palace, unless we send a child.
"Our drones would be quickly hacked without on-site technical support.
"The palace is protected by gasses toxic to us. They even seep into our skin. It also uses biological warfare in the form of spores that quickly kill us upon exposure. Other species are immune.
"Finally, each of you comes with the advantages your own species' evolved to provide you. Advantages we will enhance."
"What advantages?" asked a crawling creature with six eye stalks, antlers and a long, prehensile tail. "Being average at everything?"
"Breeding with anything?" suggested an eight-legged creature with spines along its back and a long, thin trunk upon its face.
"Tasting delicious?" asked a two limbed creature with a star of tendrils coming from the centre of its face.
"Those are just the myths common to those who have no other sapient species to compare themselves to," replied their captor. "Each species has adapted to a different niche, from a different background. From the excellent chemoreception of the Enlightened," it pointed to the creature with only two limbs, "to the sprinting speed of the Fortified." It indicated the trunked-creature. "From the ability to defend a position while performing another task, which the Unbroken specialise in," it gestured at the antlered creature, "to the true flight of the Perched." It waved to a large, bat-liked creature with four talons below its body. "From the stamina of the humans," it waved at Heather. She knew inside of her that to those that did not know the word, which was everyone else there, it sounded like "the Similar". "to the flexibility of the Covered." It pointed at the worm-like creature with many limbs.
"So, what, exactly, are we here to do?" asked the Perched. "You said that we are meant to be more than canon-fodder, but haven't told us our roles."
"We need to break into the palace, assassinate the emperor, destroy the AI protecting his reign and exorcise the demon lord aiding him," came the reply.
"Oh. Is that all." A large creature with spider-like limbs and a beard of tendrils snorted. "Would you also like us to dress the guards' corpses in fancy ribbons and rearrange the constellations to proclaim your victory while forging a crown of lace and fairy tales for you to wear at the parade we'll be hosting in your honour?"
"The sarcasm really isn't necessary," replied their captor. "We will train you and provide you with what you need."
"I don't know," Heather replied. "I think that you're very lucky to have gotten away with nothing more than sarcasm so far. You ripped us away from our homes, are keeping us prisoner and as slaves, have tormented us just to give you the power to kill us should we turn against you and you are forcing us to be your army. Are you really stupid enough that you are surprised by hostility?"
"Don't pretend that we didn't do you a favour," growled their warden. "I saw what was happening to you before we summoned you."
"Oh, and I'm sure you grabbed me out of the goodness of your heart, thinking only of my welfare and not about how you wanted another conscript for your army." Heather rolled her eyes.
"Fine. If you want to stick to sarcasm, do so." Their captor snorted. "Did we think a human could be helpful? Of course. That's why we were scanning Earth in the first place. Did it have to be you? No. It didn't. But we've been trying to summon those who did not have a particularly great life they'd miss when brought here."
"And who would not be missed by others?" asked a creature with a long snout and several tendrils for tails.
"Of course," came the reply. "We are not the demons. We have no desire to cause unnecessary suffering on other worlds."
"You keep insisting that you're not demons," said a jellyfish-like creature with three eye-stalks. "But you haven't told us what it is you actually are. Who are you really? Why should we trust you?"
"You should trust us, because you don't have much option right now," replied their warden. "Though I hope you'll see that trust was not misplaced in time. You can call me 'Valiant'. It's what my name means. We are the Settled. This is Crag. It is our home planet. We live in a binary star system. Crag orbits one star, Guide, while Shelter, home of the Initiative, orbits the other, Seeker. We are the slaves of the Initiative and their demon partners. Together, they, and their AI servants, will spread their slavery to your worlds as well if we do not stop them. We will train you in combat and sabotage, take care of you, enhance your bodies with our technology and teach you to exorcise demons, channel angels, use psionic power and cast spells. Is that a good enough explanation for now?"
"Wait, spells?" asked a creature with a fish-tail, frog-like legs, flippers and a neck-frill of tendrils. "Psionics? Angels? Are you saying that those are real as well?"
"Of course," Valiant replied. "If demons exist, is it so hard to believe their opposite does as well? The demons taught our enemies magic. It is only natural that we would learn it and use it against them as well. As for psionics, few are talented with it, but with the right stimulation to your brains, we can unlock that as well. We do not expect you to fight unprepared, untrained and unequipped. We can train you, provide cybernetic enhancements, dose you with hormone therapy and more." Valiant gave a cough. "Admittedly, our understanding of your biology is limited, so we'll need to study your bodies to perfect the process. We're already analysing your biochemistries to find out what hormones to dose you with and what is safe for you to eat. Speaking of which, only eat what we provide you. Any food from the natural environment could be toxic to you. It may be based on the wrong elements or have the wrong chirality, for example."
"And how long before you find that out?" asked a small creature with eight, clawed limbs with eye stalks next to its tail, which ended in fingers. On the opposite side of its body was a long snout. "How long are we going to be left to starve before you learn what you need and we get to eat?"
"Not any longer," replied another of the Settled as it opened the door. It pulled in a large trolley covered in bowls with a cloth draped over them.
"How do we know you aren't going to poison us?" asked a round-bellied creature with six long arms, but no feet.
"If we wanted to kill or drug you, we could have easily done that already," replied Valiant.
"Fair enough," the six-armed creature conceded. It began climbing down the walls towards the trolley.
The Settled by the trolley took off the cloth and began passing out bowls and the spoons that lay alongside them. The bowls were filled with sludge of various colours. Heather looked down at the beige goo within her own bowl.
"What is this trash supposed to be?" asked a tall creature lifting itself up with tentacles. "If we're supposed to be your heroes, we should be eating like monarchy!"
"You won't find any of the ingredients of your meals from home here." The Settled with the trolley sighed. "Your food has to be chemically synthesised in our machines. That has side effects on the final presentation. It may look, smell, feel and taste different, but it has all the nutrients you need. We literally cannot do better."
Heather shrugged and scooped a spoon into her mouth. She had certainly had better while living with her adopted parents and even while at the orphanage, but while it was hardly delicious, she had also had far worse when scrounging on the street, so she ate in relative contentment. "It's still better than what I've been eating recently," she confessed.
One by one, the rest of the prisoners joined in, and while there was grumbling, that was the extent of their protest.
"We are going to start by working on your individual talents," Valiant announced after they had eaten. "We'll split you up to provide raining uniquely suited to each of you."
Heather was led by another of the Settled to a giant centrifuge. "I will be in charge of your training," the Settled explained. "You can call me Alert. What's your name?"
"Heather," she replied. "Heather Pillay. Do you have family names?"
"We do," Alert replied. "Mine is Wall. I'm sure you can understand I want to train you as well as I can to protect the rest of the Wall family. I have parents, a brother, a husband and a daughter who I care for and want liberated. That is why I am going to be thorough."
Heather nodded. "I get it." As poor a relationship she'd had with family, ever since her mother had abandoned her as an infant, she could still understand the strength and appeal of familial bonds.
"Good," said Alert. "Hopefully that means you'll take this seriously."
"I will," Heather replied with a nod. "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing properly. Besides, the last thing I want is to die because I was too lazy."
Alert giggled. "Glad you've realised that much at least. So, first, I want you to get into that centrifuge. We've built you a treadmill for you to run on while it's spinning. You'll be tethered down for some safety and added difficulty. Your ancestors could run non-stop for hours until their prey dropped dead from exhaustion. We want you to surpass them. That's why we are making this difficult. The centrifuge will mimic high gravity."
Heather raised an eyebrow. "It already feels like the gravity here is a bit higher than Earth's. How high is the gravity of Shelter that you want me to train in even higher gravity?"
"As you said, the gravity here on Crag is slightly higher than that on Earth," Alert responded. "However, the gravity of Shelter is actually slightly lower than that of Earth. We're not acclimatising you to Shelter. At least, not yet. We're training you to do what we need in the worst conditions possible, so, when the time comes for you to fulfil your role, you'll be able to do it effortlessly. You'll have enough problems that the Initiative and their allies will provide before you start struggling with performing the tasks we assign."
Heather frowned. "I see. I get that. Though, you said you'd enhance us in addition to training us. Should that not be done first?"
"All in good time," Alert replied. "I'm glad that you're eager, but as we said, we need to study your biology. Some we know already from what the demons mentioned in their notes and from our previous experiences, but we're still learning. We want to do the best job we can, not just to give us the best chance for success, but because we really don't want to accidentally harm any of you.
"In the meantime, we can work on what you already have. And that means training. Surgery, cybernetic enhancement and hormone therapy to improve your capabilities can all wait for now. It will come soon. Don't worry."
Heather nodded. "As I said, I want to make sure I do this properly."
"Then get in and let's get started," Alert replied.
Heather gave a grin for the first time in years and stepped into the centrifuge. She stepped onto the treadmill and strapped herself in with the cords before turning the treadmill on.
"Good," Alert said gently. "I'm going to close the door now. Don't be alarmed. I will warn you when I start up the centrifuge."
Heather smiled again, as the door closed, already performing a light jog.
"I'm starting the centrifuge," came Alert's voice over a speaker.
With a hum, the centrifuge started spinning. It rapidly accelerated and Heather felt the crushing force she had already become used to quickly increase. She grimaced as she strained to hold her body up against the effect threatening to flatten her.
"Is this the best you can do?" A tinge of amusement coloured Alert's voice.
"No," Heather growled. "I'm not going to fail because I took things easy. I need to push things up a notch. Speed up both the centrifuge and the treadmill."
There was a pause. "All right! That's the kind of attitude we're looking for!"
Heather's feet sped up in order to keep up with the increasing pace of the treadmill while she struggled ever harder to hold her head up high as it felt continually heavier. Suddenly, she slipped and smashed down onto the treadmill, the friction from the conveyer belt's speed tearing away at the skin on her cheeks.
The treadmill and centrifuge quickly stopped. "Heather! Are you okay?" Alert called out.
Heather struggled to her hands and knees, blood splattering from her fresh abrasions. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I'll get it right next time. Let me try again."
"No!' Alert insisted. She ripped open the door of the centrifuge and rushed in, before gently cradling Heather in her tendrils. "We need to get you checked up on. We can't risk infection. We're here to train you. Not to abuse you."
Heather accepted Alert's help in getting to her feet. "Fine. But when we're done, I'm trying again."
"Well, I appreciate the determination," Alert replied. "Agreed. As soon as you're cleared by the nurse, you can try again."
Heather smiled. "Thank you."
Heather lifted her head and shifted her gaze around her to take in as much as she could while she was led to the medical bay. They were clearly underground. Not merely figuratively, but literally as well. Despite that, the facility was cavernous, with a high ceiling that seemed to be that of a natural cave or roughly hewn, stone chamber. There were metal girders strung with fluorescent tubes of white, yellow, red and pink crossing above them. The floor was covered in metal plates and the sides of the cave were lined with metal and stone pillars and rolls of wiring. Walls of stone, metal and glass cordoned sections off from each other and machinery from beyond her understanding stood in every room. Blue, white and red sparks fizzled in and out of existence from coils around antennae and an eerie glow of red and pink gently pulsed as it permeated the corridors.
Eventually, they reached a heavy, steel door. Alert lifted a pebble with one of her tendrils and used it to rap on the metallic surface. "Come in!" called a voice from behind the door.
Alert gave the handle a yank, pulling the door open and revealing a gentler glow of pale yellow covering a floor of cushioning. The desks along the side of the room were still metal, though they were covered in sheets of thin, pale green fabric.
The Settled standing within the room had the same white, plastic covering that those that implanted the bomb in her neck had worn.
"This is Heather," Alert explained. "She had a tumble onto a conveyer belt at high gravity and was bashed around a bit.
"That's not good." A twinge of concern filtered into the nurse's voice. "But I am here to fix that kind of thing. My name is Vigilant and I want you to know that I am here to give you all the care you need. Let's look at your injuries."
Heather held up her hands and turned her cheek to give Vigilant a better view.
"Yes. Those could end up quite nasty if we don't do anything about them," Vigilant muttered. After he had cleaned and dressed the more easily visible abrasions, Heather showed him the ones on her legs, torso and elbows and Vigilant did the same with them.
Heather turned to face Alert. "Right. You promised to let me try again now."
Alert pointedly turned away from Heather t face Vigilant. "Is she okay to continue training?"
Heather scowled and clenched her fists at her sides. "We had a deal! I get to try again after the treatment!"
"Doctor's orders trump all that," Alert replied. "If Vigilant says she thinks you need rest, then that's what you need."
"That's right, Heather," Vigilant added. "Your health is important. If you train to the point that you're no longer healthy enough for the mission, that wouldn't help, would it?"
"Besides," Alert added. "I said that you could try again once you were cleared. You aren't cleared until Vigilant says you are."
Heather's scowl deepened and she slowly folded her arms. "Fine. I get it. But I don't want to waste time on my backside when I could be getting prepared."
"That's understandable," Vigilant responded. "And I'm glad that you're enthusiastic. But you need to remember your priorities. That said, I'm glad that you understand and I think that these injuries are minor enough that you can return to training."
Heather unfolded her arms and beamed, before running over and enveloping one of Vigilant's legs in a hug. "Thank you! I won't make you regret it! I'll train until I'm perfect for the job!"
Vigilant froze and blinked before letting out a giggle. "It's a pleasure. I appreciate the gratitude."
A bruised and battered Heather joined her fellow inmates for her next meal. As enthusiastic as she was, she was still malnourished and needed a lot more practice. None of her newer injuries were serious enough to return to the nurse's office, but she still winced as she sat down for her meal.
"I was training near you," said a quadruped with rabbit-like ears and a row of tentacles along its back. "I heard most of your session. Why are you so eager to help the Settled, putting yourself through all that pain and effort and planning to risk your life, when they kidnapped us all and are forcing us to fight for them in their war?"
Heather cocked her head. "I think it's short sighted to look at it that way," she replied. She stood up and projected her voice to fill the room. "I see all of you here, huddled in this room! I know what you must be thinking! You are wondering, 'How is this fair? Why do I deserve such punishment? When will I get to see my home again? Why should I care about this war? Why do I have to suffer this way? Will I see my family and friends again? Why should I help those who have kidnapped me and forced me to risk my life? Will I die here? Why should I die here?' and so forth. Those thoughts make sense and so you cling to them. But they ignore the bigger picture." She waved an arm to indicate the Settled behind her. "These people need our help. They were desperate enough to fetch us from other worlds to do it. Was it right? You can easily claim that it wasn't, but their need is still real. And so is the need of the people they are fighting to protect who have done nothing against us. And we don't have to take their word that the Initiative will attack our planets. It is just the way that empires work. They spread, unless they are stopped. It is stupid for us to let them get stronger so they can hurt our peoples as well. If the Settled can summon us, we should naturally assume that the Initiative can gain easy access to our worlds as well. Also, we're here already. We're involved. If we want to survive, we should train to fulfil our mission safely. And if you would rather try escape, well, even though I don't suggest you try, I do suggest training if you want to stand a chance of managing that. Still, if you train to become skilled enough to escape, congratulations. You just have to hope we save your planet without you. That's something that would be much more likely to work with another ally who had become so skilled, they could escape.
"In the meantime, we have a great opportunity. We get to experience whole other worlds! Aren't you curious and grateful for that opportunity? I must admit, that I don't have much waiting for me back on Earth, but I doubt I am unique. Even if you are in desperate need for your home, wouldn't that also make you desperate to defend it?
"And when we succeed, would the Settled not be grateful and treat us with gratitude and allow us to return home? Even assuming they are not the type, we would have demonstrated our ability to overthrow tyranny." She smashed a fist onto the table. "It would be in their interest to stay on our good side. If they don't realise that, the Initiative would have ended up as a warm up. Overthrowing a second tyranny would be simpler after practicing with the first. Now, who is ready to give this all they've got?" She threw a fist into the air and the room filled with cheers from both Settled, and their conscripts.
Heather lowered he hand and turned to face the creature that had first questioned her while wearing a smile. "Does that answer your question?"
The creature bowed its head. "It does. I'll be sure to put in more effort from now on."
Heather turned again to face the Settled, beaming. "I've gotten them ready for you."
"And thank you for that, Heather," Valiant responded. "We really appreciate that. We all need to work hard to defeat the Initiative. We can't waste talent by refusing to exercise it. However, we also cannot waste it by starving it. Let's eat!"
They dug into their gooey meal with far more enthusiasm than they had previously displayed. After the last spoon had dropped, Valiant rose again and bellowed out another announcement. "We have started training your bodies, but this mission will require more than that. As I previously said, we will use our technology to enhance you beyond were mere training can take you. In addition, as I previously mentioned, you will need more skills than those supplied by a fit body. As you seem to have been inspired to exert all your effort in becoming ready for the mission, I believe that we can already begin with the spiritual training as well. We will teach you to exorcise demons and channel angels, just as I promised."
The other Settled in the room gasped at that announcement, but then transformed it into a cheer.
"I realise that some may think this decision is premature," Valiant said. "But the sooner our trainees are ready, the better, and if they are proving eager this early, we should take advantage of that opportunity."
"What does this training involve?" Heather asked.
"That is better left for your personal trainers to demonstrate," Valiant replied.
Heather frowned at that, but stayed silent.
"However," Valiant added, "I am willing to give a demonstration of something you can look forward to learning to do." Valiant's eyes closed. "Come to me, Nathaniel. I offer myself in service. Use me to build our path of righteousness." Valiant began to glow with a vibrant, yellow light. A golden, insubstantial halo formed above Valiant's head and large wings of orange flame sprouted from Valiant's back. The wings flapped down, and Valiant's huge form easily lifted into the air. Without bothering to continue flapping, Valiant opened a set of glowing eyes. Then, Valiant pointed a tendril and a beam of light fired from it and sliced a bar of metal in two.
Valiant's wings disappeared and the floor shook as a large mass of muscle dropped to the ground. Valiant winced and panted while straightening legs to return to full height. "Admittedly, that kind of thing takes a lot out of you, but I'm sure you'll find it helpful sometimes nonetheless."
Heather's eyes widened and shone. This was certainly the kind of new experience she had been looking forward to. "I can learn to do that?" she asked.
"Well, you'll probably end up making contact with a different group of angels, but the general idea remains the same," Valiant replied. "Of course, angels, like demons, vary a lot between one another, so you may end up finding a different set of abilities easier."
Heather bit her lip and quivered with anticipation.
"Okay. I have to admit that learning stuff like that would be really cool," said a long limbed quadruped with a long snout that trailed tentacles from its upper lip. "That will be loads more fun than physical exercise."
"Physical exercise is still very important," Valiant replied as a stern reprimand. "The flashier abilities do not help if your physique doesn't let you survive long enough to use them, for example."
"Fair enough," the tentacle-lipped creature conceded.
"However, if you're that eager to learn, I suggest returning to your personal trainers and beginning right now," Valiant advised. A mass of differently shaped bodies shuffled away from the table and towards the exit. Heather hurried down the passage back to the room she had been training in. She tapped a foot and folded her arms as she waited.
Soon, Alert slowly loped into view. She blinked as she gazed upon Heather. "Impatience isn't going to be helpful in learning what you need to know."
Heather snorted. "Neither is dilly-dallying."
"You need to pace yourself," Alert replied. "Rushing will not help. Rest is also important."
Heather rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now that we've rested, can we get started?"
Alert giggled. "You're not easily dissuaded, are you?"
"Nope."
"Well, we can start your spiritual training, but we should really move rooms to do that. We'll need more space."
Heather rolled her eyes. "Fine. Lead on." She waved a hand.
Alert giggled again and turned around, leading Heather out of the room and down the corridor. She opened another door and the pair entered a much larger room that was covered in stained and torn cushioning.
Alert turned to face Heather. "In your mission, you will have to fight against demons," she began. "It is vital you learn how. Fighting against demons the same way as one would fight mortals is possible, for the weaker examples at least, but inefficient and doesn't accomplish much, as the demon will simply reform. Exorcising them is a far better alternative, as it casts them out of this world. However, they are not going to willingly allow you to exorcise them, so you need to learn to defend yourself and fight them as you perform the exorcism."
Heather's face fell. "I take it I'm not learning what Valiant showed us yet."
"The time for channelling angels will come," Alert replied. "Valiant sometimes gets a bit enthusiastic. He was trying to show you what you can work towards, to give you a goal. Protecting yourself is important. It is something you need to learn before you try anything more complicated as far as spiritual combat is concerned."
Heather sighed, lowered her head, drooped her shoulders and let her arms fall. "Fine. I get it. What do I have to do?"
"Pray," Alert replied. "That's the first step, and what you should continually return to. Ask for strength and protection. You will need them. Then ask or your weapons and your strikes to be blessed. As you fight, ask for debilities to fall upon the demon, finally requesting that they are cast out and bound, trapped and rendered helpless, so they may never harm another again."
"So ... I just talk?" Heather asked, cocking her head.
"It's more than talking," Alert replied. "It's asking for aid and using your strength to hold your connection to the divine, so that you can receive aid and manifest the divine's righteous will in the world. It takes effort. And the demon will be attempting to distract you, while fighting you. Neither of those things make the task any easier. You have to keep your concentration while still protecting yourself and continuing the fight. I will give you a demonstration of what it's like in a safe environment like this one first. Of course, it won't look as impressive without a demon to use this blessing against, but I'm just teaching the basics, safely, in a controlled environment, for now." She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Please grant me what I need to survive this battle. I am here only to serve the path of righteousness. Alone, I am powerless, but with your protection, I am undefeatable. In you, I trust that the tainted spirits shall fall. Allow me to be your weapon. I offer myself to you to scourge your enemies away. May their reign of suffering end. Guide my blows and armour my skin. Shield my soul and empower my strikes. Bind this unclean spirit and make it helpless and harmless. Cast it back into the darkness, and into the crushing depths, where it shall never harm another again. I ask this so that I may fulfil your will and I may be your hand in this world." As she spoke, her voice began to deepen and echo, as if another was speaking through her. She opened her eyes. "Of course, you'll have to learn how to d that in the midst of battle against your enemies. That will be harder, but with practice, it can be done."
"So, I just do what you did?" Heather asked, cocking her head.
"The general spirit of the action is more important than an exact replica of the details," Alert replied. "The important thing isn't to copy my actions and words exactly, but to get into the right frame of mind and right state of supplication. After all, the power isn't naturally yours. It's a gift you are asking for."
"So ... it's about having the right attitude?"
"Exactly. Why don't you give it a try?"
Heather exhaled. "Okay. I can try that." She closed her eye, lowered her head and hummed to herself. "I ... um ... would like to have power, please. If that's okay with you, I want it so I can beat the demons and stuff. I think it'd be cool. I hope you agree. So, please give it to me?" She opened her eyes. "How was that?"
"That was ... not quite what we're looking for," Alert replied. "But we can work on that. It wasn't bad for a first try."
"What did I do wrong?"
"I think the fault is more with me," Alert replied. "I obviously wasn't clear and specific enough. It's not about begging. It's about demonstrating your honest desire to help."
Heather frowned. "I think I get it. Can I try again?"
"Of course."
Heather closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I stand here knowing that for good to succeed, I need more than just physical strength. So, I ask of you, to please give me what I need. I ask for protection to shield me as I fight our common foe. I ask for guidance and power to strike down evil. I ask for this evil spirit to be trapped and made helpless, because no one should ever suffer because of it again. I ask that it gets placed where it shall never get a chance to hurt anyone else again." Heather opened her eyes. "How was that?"
"Much better!" Excitement rang through Alert's voice.
"So ... Now do I try it in combat?" asked Heather. "Or maybe move on to channelling angels?" She raised her eyebrows and smiled eagerly.
"Remember not to rush," Alert admonished her. "We need to train you in mundane combat before having you try exorcism at the same time. And we're going to do that, and some other physical training, before moving on to channelling."
Heather sighed, dropped her smile, lowered her head and clenched her fists. "Why does it have to take so long? Ugh ... It's frustrating!"
"Remember that this is still your first day here," Alert responded. "You are already making amazing progress. You have a lot to be proud of."
"Being proud of my progress is not going to complete my mission," Heather replied. "Better to aim higher so I can learn the skills I will need to do so."
"That's true," Alert acknowledged. "But balance is important. Having the proper insight and a healthy view of yourself is important to keep sane and able to absorb new skills. Both of those will help you in the future."
Heather shrugged. "I can't argue with that, I guess. Still, I'm really looking forward to this."
"I see so," Alert said. "But why? Why are you so eager? Why is this so important to you?"
Heather bit her lip and then sighed. "Look. My whole life, I've been pushed around, always at the mercy of people who are stronger than I am. All I've been able to do so far is run away or accept it. I've never been able to fight back before. I've been helpless. But you brought me here and gave me a chance to make a difference. I have an opportunity I never had before. I want to reach out and grab it and to be able to say, 'I did this. I helped people. I stopped evil. Because of me, others will not suffer like I did.' It's a feeling I can't get enough of. But waiting means delaying that feeling, delaying that power and that others continue to suffer while I merely wait. It's frustrating. If I'm going to get a chance to actually do something good and make a difference, I want to go out and do it. I'm tired of just being a helpless victim. I want to be the hero for once. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it makes sense," Alert replied as she looked down at Heather with affection. "I understand the feeling. After all, I joined the resistance myself. I understand being tired of being oppressed and wanting to take action to be the hero. But if we rush things, you will achieve less and it would be a waste of your talents. With a little patience, you can become a greater hero and achieve far more. Doesn't that sound like a good bargain to you?"
Heather lowered her head and her shoulders slumped. "I guess so, but what if my chance never comes? What if I lose the opportunity and I have to die having achieved nothing? Maybe someone else will become that hero and the good I could have done before them never happens? Or if I trip and fall down the stairs and break my neck, so I die before my chance to be a hero?"
"Well," Alert replied, "I can promise you that we'll train you to make it less likely that you'll die by something as simple as falling down stairs."
"That's still not very reassuring," Heather replied.
"I understand," Alert replied. "But the fact is that no one can be positive about what the future will be like. All you can do is prepare and respond as well as you are able. I cannot promise you that none of those things will happen. What I can tell you is that we wouldn't have summoned you and wouldn't be training you if we didn't think it'd be helpful to our cause. We are doing this because we believe you can help us. We have put our trust in that. Can you have faith that we are not setting you up for the purpose of snatching an opportunity away from you?"
"I don't know you very well," Heather slowly responded, "but I realise that that would be a waste of your resources. So, I guess I can at least accept that much."
"I suppose that'll have to do," Alert replied. "I'm guessing that you're eager to begin combat training though. Is that correct?"
Heather's eyes widened. "It is! I really want to be able to kick some butt! I'm tired of being the one smacked around! It's time for me to take charge!"
"Well, let's start be giving you some weapons," Alert said.
"Awesome!" Heather replied. "Am I going to get laser guns or something futuristic like that? You're space traveller, so you must have really advanced weapons, right?"
Alert hesitated. "We do have them, but I don't think you'll be allowed to use them yet."
Heather frowned. "Trust needs to go both ways, you know. How am I going to be an effective soldier if you don't arm me properly?"
"Well," Alert slowly replied. "I understand your frustration as far as trust is concerned. Do try to remember that this is a sensitive location and a secret movement. We're very vulnerable. And we barely know you. You haven't even been here a full day. You will get the opportunity to use any weapons you need though. That said, firstly, you must remember that you are not going to be an ordinary soldier. You won't be fighting in a standard war on a normal battlefield. You are going to sneak into the most sensitive part of the government as part of a strike tea to sabotage and assassinate. It's not the same thing."
"It's close enough," Heather mumbled.
"Sure, you have to risk your life to fight and kill as part of a war, and so there are similarities," Alert acknowledged. "But there are important differences. Stealth is more important than firepower, for example. That's why we are summoning species better at that than ourselves.
"Also, you will be fighting demons and their influence. So, ideally, you should bless your weapons. That becomes a problem for things like lasers, because they're made of light."
"So what?" Heather asked. "Is there a stupid rule that you can't bless lasers?"
"It's not that it's impossible," Alert replied, "but a blessing applies to the whole of the weapon. That means that, for ranged weapons, the smaller the projectile is, compared to the entirety of the weapon, the less effective the blessing is upon the ranged attack. Photons are very small, so blessing lasers isn't normally very effective. So, while we can give you lasers, we want you to practice with some melee weapons for now."
"Fine," Heather replied. "What were you thinking of?"
"We've been looking into your planet's history," Alert replied. "We think we can take a weapon of yours that used to be popular, and improve it."
Heather raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"
"We're actually already forging it," Alert replied."Perhaps it would be better to just show you." She turned to face the door and beckoned with her tendrils.
Heather followed her down the corridors to a new room. As they approached, the heat slowly rose and Alert began to pant. An orange glow emanated from the door. As they entered, Heather gasped. She lifted her head and her eyes prowled the room. The glow originated from enormous furnaces in the depths below the entrance. Steam flowed from the many, whistling pipes. Red hot, molten metal poured down in streams, filling moulds. Enormous cogs and cranks creaked as they turned. Pistons pumped up and down and the clang of hammers filled the air. Mechanical arms reached from the walls to manipulate tools with clamps, claws or artificial fingers. Throughout the room, round drones hovered on propellers, watching and picking up tools with their artificial hands.
"This is where we do our forging," Alert said. "We have been preparing your weapon. I believe it should be ready now. Let's have a look." She walked over to a set of railings and screens that blocked the entrance from the rest of the forge and tapped a symbol on one of the screens with one of her tendrils. "Bring me Heather's weapon," she said.
"Acknowledged," a voice replied.
"What do those symbols mean?" Heather asked.
"Oh, that's our language," Alert replied. "You didn't expect aliens to speak the same language as you, did you? Remember that we told you that we use magic? Well, it's the only reason we can understand each other. We use a spell that allows everyone in the facility to understand each other's languages. Writing doesn't count though. It's considered symbolic transcription of the language, rather than the language itself, for the purpose of the spell. There are spells that are more inclusive and would translate writing as well, but they are more difficult and it is not normally considered worth the extra effort for what we do here."
Heather frowned. "That does explain a lot. It did seem weird that everyone was speaking the same language. It wouldn't really make sense for all these different alien species to speak the same language."
"Exactly," Alert replied. "But it's important for us to understand each other so we can teach and instruct you. Also, speaking of the other species, while we are training everyone differently due to their unique talents, we are going to do some group training as well. You'll be a team, so it's important that you learn to work together and to help each other. You can also benefit from each other's talents in training as well. We especially want you to practice sparring with each other. You need to learn how to fight diverse opponents, especially as you're going to fight demons, whose bodies aren't even constrained by normal rules of biology. As we want you to work on your human stamina, we're actually planning on having you fight gauntlets of one opponent after the other without breaks. Humans don't get tired as quickly as most other species and we want to maximise that strength in you as much as possible. It will be really helpful in an extended mission."
The side of Heather's mouth curled up. "I'm looking forward to it."
A robot holding a black, rectangular case flew over. "Heather's weapon, as requested," it reported.
"There we go," Alert said as she grabbed the case and passed it to Heather. "Open it."
Heather flicked open the latches and opened the case. The case was lined with felt and inside an indentation was an axe. She picked it up and looked up at the blade.
"The handle telescopes out to create a halberd," Alert explained. "Also, the spearhead can be unscrewed, giving you a dagger. You can charge the blade with electricity and the dagger can be heated to enhance your attacks and provide a bit more versatility, such as if you need to quickly melt ice. Do you like it?"
Heather twisted the handle and it telescoped out. She glanced up to the tip of the halberd. "Yes. Very much."
"I'm glad," Alert replied. "Would you like to try it out?"
Heather turned her face towards Alert and grinned. "Absolutely."
"Then follow me," Alert said. She led Heather back along the corridors, but this time, to a different room. It was large and covered in thick, brown mats. The walls were padded and the ceiling was high, with extensive lighting. Cushioned benches ran along the walls and large, abstract sculptures resembling collapsing piles of logs made of clay dotted the floor.
"This is where you'll do most of your combat training," Alert explained. "First, we need to teach you how to use your weapon. We've collected data on how humans used to use halberds and have made some instructional videos for you. Play human use of halberds instructional video one."
"Loading," said a voice.
The light dimmed and shifted in colour. Multi-coloured beams coalesced in front of them and a holographic image formed. The hologram was of an armoured, human soldier, carrying a halberd. He shifted position, moving his feet and clutching his halberd closer to prepare for attack. "Notice the positioning of the hands," the voice continued.
Heather furrowed her brow and leaned forward to pay better attention. She then lifted he own halberd and copied the soldier's movements.
The instructional video continued for half an hour before the voice announced, "End of part one. Part two shall be scheduled for tomorrow."
Heather suddenly straightened up, lowered her halberd and swung to face Alert. "Oh, come on!" she cried. "Tomorrow? I have to wait till then to learn more? I was really getting into that!"
"Remember to be patient," Alert replied. "You need time for your lessons to sink in. We've found that most instructional videos from Earth are of a similar length, so we're deferring to their judgement. In any case, there are other subjects you need to learn. It's time you found out a bit more about what enemies you'll be facing. Play introduction to the Initiative and their demonic allies."
"Loading," the voice repeated.
This time, the image that formed was of a planet. "This is Shelter, home planet of the Initiative," said the voice. "The Initiative evolved from grazers that used opportunistic, ambush tactics to supplement to make their diet more omnivorous. Originating from lush plains, near the equator, they developed sapience, became the dominant species on their planet and began space exploration. This was aided by their three moons of different composition, their neighbouring region in the system and the fact that their star had a binary partner that had its own sapient life."
The image zoomed out to give an image of the star system.
"That's not to scale, obviously," Alert said.
It was a busy system. Shelter had two large moons and one small, irregular one. There were two more, smaller, terrestrial planets one each side of its orbit, each with tiny, irregular moons of their own. The closest planet to Seeker was a gas giant. After the string of terrestrial planets was another gas giant, followed by an asteroid belt and then another three gas giants. Each of the gas giants had multiple moons of their own, including several large ones.
Guide was further out and had its own planets orbiting it, with five, large terrestrial planets and their moons, followed by an asteroid belt and then another five gas giants and their moons.
Red dots sprinkled over the system, including within orbits. "Here you can see where the Initiative have settled the system," said the voice. "But their capital is here." The image zoomed back in to a dot on the equator of Shelter and then the image transformed to show a city of skyscrapers dominated by an enormous palace. "This is the palace where Emperor Ascendant lives. He also shares it with the demon lord Fester and his AI, Categorical."
The image shifted again. This time, it showed a round, lumpy creature with a mouth made of a three-sided beak on the top of its head. The mouth was surrounded by thee eye-stalks and the round body had four, elongated arms stretching from it, each of which split in two at the centre joint, of which there were five. The elongated arms ended in hands with four, clawed fingers each.
"This is what an Initiative looks like," the voice informed Heather. "They are highly dextrous, have quick reflexes and they have claws. However, they travel slowly, so keeping out of the range of their arms is not just advisable, but normally not too difficult."
The image shifted again. This time it showed what appeared to be a large, fat, red caterpillar with six, clawed arms, a crown of horns, sabre-tooth fangs and tentacles that hung from its mouth and drooled green slime. "And this is the demon lord Fester," the voice continued. "But demons come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes."
The image changed again. This time it showed one of the Settled carrying a large, flail with hooks in its chain links and no handle. It was also carrying a tubular, metallic object with a trigger. In front of the Settled was a large, red eyeball with three green tentacles covered in yellow fangs sprouting from it. "And this is an example of what a demon can do in battle," said the voice.
 
<<Hereafter>>
[ ] <<Hereafter>>

The Offices of Mister Exidor.

The President of the Exidor Electric Company was a man of taste.

The floor of his office was black marble. The walls were paneled in fine dark wood. Bookshelves lined the perimeter containing treaties on every subject in every language in the Hereafter. Mister Exidor was fluent in them all.

The wall behind his desk was spanned by an aquarium reaching from floor to ceiling looking out over the city of Terminus. Something swam in the clear blue water. Sleek and predatory.

Mister Exidor looked up from the work which had been consuming him. A chess board. The pieces were evolved to the end game.

"Ah, Ness. Please, come in. Don't mind the mess you're making."

His voice was high and not intimidating. Mister Exidor had people for that.

"You're the one who wanted to see me, Mister Exidor."

She was tall. Tall and slim. Tall and slim and very fare. She looked distinctly elvish. Which was one of the least strange things someone could look like in the Hereafter.

She carried her duster folded over one arm, a satchel on her shoulder. The holster on her hip was empty. Mostly as a courtesy.

Dark forms with glowing blue eyes stood to attention in their booths to either side of the door at her back.

Exidor pressed an inlaid button, an ornate brass and wood mechanism unfolded itself, retrieving the chessboard, and returning it to the shelf beside all the others. Mister Exidor had a thing for correspondence games.

"You could have found the time to decontaminate yourself."

"Yeah, I could use a shower." Ness agreed, taking a seat and putting up her mud caked boots. "But you're not paying me to store high value goods." She tossed the satchel into middle of the President's king sized desk.

Extracting a glass bulb that fit comfortably in his cupped hands, he screwed the apparatus into the input on his terminal and raised his spectacles to study the monochrome readout.

"An Engram. From the Salem Pit?"

"You took down your bounty."

"I was running out of bounty hunters." He lowered his glasses. "Reckless, Ness."

"Terrors are getting really bad out that way." She said, studying him with eyes that weren't quite human, bright with an ember of inner light. "Must be a war on the other side."

"There's always a war on the other side."

"Must be a bad one then. So, you still want it?"

"I can arrange hard currency or a wire to your account." He stroked the glass tenderly.

There was no need for tenderness. Thin as the bulb was, it was created out of Engram knowledge. Take a sledgehammer to it and it wouldn't be the bulb which broke.

The contents were a glimmer, a shimmering of inarticulate light. Not really a thing. More a potential to be something. That was what made it valuable to the likes of Mister Exidor. The most valuable commodity in the Hereafter.

"I don't think I can carry that much cash." She said. "So wire it is."

"See my secretary on the way out." He leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers. "While this is welcome. It is not what I wanted to see you for."

"Another job?"

"I'm clearing my debt."

Chair legs hit the floor. Her boots were off the table. Eyes open.

"You found what I'm looking for."

His answer was to open his desk drawer. He held up an envelope between two fingers and flicked it neatly across the desk.

"They arrived at the right time. Right location. Spoke the right language. And referencing my Engram library against what little you could provide, there is reason to think, yes, that they are who you are looking for . . ."

"This says . . . He's a woman now." Ness said.

"That's the not strangest thing to happen to someone crossing over, you know." Exidor said. "Just look at you." The Elf's eyes flashed. The paper under her fingertips browned and turned brittle. A heat suffused the air and then was gone.

"The Marches. Lot of Terrors between here and there."

"It's not so far. I merely told you where you want to go. How you get there. And what you do. And what you do them . . . well . . . that's up to you."

Ness stood, nodding to her client. She turned to go.

"If I might ask. What do you intend to do when you meet them? The person who killed you?"

"First. They did a lot more than kill me." Ness stared through the oak double doors. Her hand hovered over an empty holster. "Second. What do you care?"

"Take it from someone who knows more about their past than most anyone in the Hereafter. Ness." Mister Exidor said. "Nothing good comes of bringing that world into this one."

"I'll keep that in mind. If you need me tonight. You can phone the Red Fox." Then she stepped through the doors and was gone.

Terminus City.

It was the first and sometimes last place the Dearly Arrived saw when they got to the Hereafter.

It was a melting pot. A tossed salad. A rat nest.

A vile, hypocritical, gilded city on a hill.

It was home.

Ness was carried by the wave of disembarking passengers at the trolley stop of Italy and Jakarta streets.

They came in all shapes and sizes. Most people were people shaped. Some ugly. Some beautiful. Some extra ordinary. They were dressed in every style of every culture of every time. Sometimes in bewildering combination. Short. Tall. Fat. Skinny. Then there were the extreme morphologies.

One didn't need to walk long before coming face to crotch with a giant. Or to be asked to make way for a dwarf.

Faeries and Tengu squatted on the eaves of rooftops.

Pig-men in white smocks cut apart pig-pigs in the windows of butcher shops.

A pair of towering many armed devis, their iron black skin glinting in the light, their iron black breasts hanging within their scant colorful robes, tailored clothes for waiting customers while laughing with one another as they chatted in Bengali.

A centipede in a nice suit skirted by, humming a tune to himself as he he straightened his tie and lapels.

Ents. Golems. Werewolves. Amazons. Magic boys . . . and girls . . .

The list went on. Nobody knew why it was this way. Why people incarnated so differently. It just was. For what it was worth, the really bizarre ones didn't seem to mind.

Ness tucked a cigarette into her mouth and held up her hands, lighting it. If the cross street of Italy and Jakarta formed the gut of Terminus, then the Red Fox was tucked away anonymously in the appendix. A vaguely shabby red oriental facade hung with paper lanterns and a perennially flickering neon sign reading VACANCY.

"Good to see you Ness!" A metallic voice grated from metal man just inside the front door. His hide was was rusted and covered in scars like spot welds.

"And you too Lyman. Mae hasn't sold you for scrap yet?"

Lyman gave a burst of static laughter. "Ah well, you know I've been thinking about putting myself on the scrap heap. But the little lady couldn't run this place alone." A nixie tube eye winked at her. "Gotta stay around for her sake. So, are you here for a room or going to the bar?"

"The bar first." Then sleep. A shower. And more sleep.

"Then I'm going to need you to check your piece."

"Thank you kindly." She handed over her revolver and stepped into the bar. A few of the usual customers looked up at the new arrival and then went back to their drinks, their food, or their card games.

The Red Fox was an odd establishment for odd people. Odd by standards where you could bump into a sapient centipede on the street and nobody would bat an eye. They didn't fit in anyplace else. The proprietress, a beautiful young looking woman, stood behind the bar counter carefully arranging roses in a carefully arranged kimono. Her hair and fur of her ears were red. So was her tail.

"Welcome back Ness." She said in a carefully arranged voice. "Will it be your usual?"

She nodded, taking a seat at the bar. Mae placed the order with her cook and retrieved a bottle from beneath the counter.

"You look troubled." Mae said.

"Trying out the bartender script?"

"Partly." The fox-woman admitted. "Partly because you do look troubled."

"I got a lead on the person I'm looking for."

Silence.

"What's wrong?"

"This person." Mae handed her the bottle. "They caused you great suffering. Yes? What exactly do you intend to do when you find them?"

"You know. You're not the first person to ask me that today."

"It is a good question." Mae said. "It deserves to be answered."

Ness frowned. "If this is some sort of maternal advice . . ."

"You are not my Kit. Ness." Mae said. "You don't need me to show you how to hunt your food or dig your den."

"You really were a fox." Ness said. "Weren't you?"

"And you were a human. Once. Your point?"

Ness didn't have an answer to that. The Hereafter didn't discriminate. Every time there seemed to be a rule it had an exception. The only sense was that it didn't have to make sense.

"Look, I'm grateful for everything you've done for me Mae. When I came through that door the first time I didn't even have a name. You put me back together and you didn't gouge me while I got on my feet. I'm grateful for everything. But the hereafter has enough problems without letting more in."

Ness at least was in a position to do something about this one.

"Is that so?"

Ness popped the bottle cap and took a long swig. "It's exactly so."

Mae put her hands over Ness' "I just don't want you to be unprepared."

"Meaning?"

"You are a mage." She squeezed Ness' hand. "There is a reason you cannot use this magic."

"I can use it just fine." Ness took her hand back and demonstrated. Snapping her fingers. A spark then became an open flame in the palm of her hand. She made a fist and fire guttered harmlessly. "See? Easy."

"That is a parlor trick." Mae admonished. "I mean really use it. If you would let me teach you . . . "

Ness opened her mouth. Closed it again. "I can use it just fine . . . I just don't . . . want to."

She put a hand over her brow as she tried not to remember the fire.

And the burning.

And burning.

You didn't get to pick what you remembered. And what you remembered was precious little. That was the price crossing over exacted.

"The Hereafter does nothing to us without reason." Mae said. "If you are fated to cross paths with this person then it would serve you well to to understand yourself."

"Fate huh? Do foxes care about fate?"

"Not a fig." Mae said. "Mostly we care about food and mating. But I am also a woman. And I find the thought of fate to be a sustaining thing. Like a little water. Or these roses." The fox woman turned as the door chimed again, and boots stormed down the steps. "Welcome." She bowed.

"Ness!"

"Oh bloody hell." The elf turned around on her stool.

There were five of them. All dressed in the same sort of sturdy clothes and dusters that bounty hunters out in the Wilds, Ness included, preferred. Four of them looked mostly human. The fifth was exceptionally human. Tall, lean, dark haired, and bright eyed. Too damn pretty for this line of work.

He was also the only one to look genuinely reluctant.

Three looked resigned.

The last and shortest, at the front, looked pissed.

"You got some nerve crawling back here Ness."

Short. But built like a tank. All muscle. Almost no neck. And fists that looked like they were carved out of granite. He was covered in silver tattoos patterned like unraveled mandalas.

"Leroy." She nodded. "Why wouldn't I come back here?"

"Cause you ran off with my money."

"Funny." The elf scratched behind one ear. "Last I checked I didn't have a deal with you. I had deal with your crew. You don't get their cut because they died."

Leroy stepped in, pushing up against her personal space. "And how is it that everyone else is dead? Ness? You walked right into a nest full of Terrors. Ness? And only you came out alive. Ness?"

"Just lucky. I guess."

"Hah?" He nodded slowly. "Lucky? They were my crew. So it makes it my money. Lost hands." He looked her over slowly from head to toe and back to head again. Now he was really pushing her personal space. "Unless you're thinking you wanna pay me back some other way. Maybe in installments . . ."

Ness rolled her eyes. "For the kinda dosh we brought in? Sure. I'd strip down to my little bra and panties for you. I don't do foot licking though. Sorry."

"Not what I'd want you to lick."

"Not who I thought would do the licking. But tell you what. I've never done it with a midget. Name your price to go up on me." Two of his crew grabbed Leroy as he tried to get at Ness. The stout troll of a man advancing as they piled down on his back.

He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. Ness grabbed a fork from the counter top.

-cla-chick-

All parties stopped at the sound of Mae calmly chambering the first shell.

"I would ask you kindly to take this outside." The Proprietress sighted down the length of the barrel. "Unless you wish to learn what a load of bird shot will do to you."

"Buzz off Mae." Leroy growled. "I've been shot at by worse and got the scars to prove it."

"Not where I am aiming." She emphasized with an exaggerated dip of the muzzle. "Do you want Mister Exidor's Tin Men crawling all over this place?"

That question got the attention of the rest of the bar regulars. Most the exact same sort of bounty hunters as the men causing trouble.

There was a whine of servos as Lyman peered in from the front, the eyes painted by his nixie tubes turned solid red. "Can I be of help, Little Lady?"

"Leroy and his crew were just deciding whether to sit down or take their business somewhere else." Mae said. "The Red Fox holds no grudges and tolerates no disputes. Yes?"

His crew were nodding vigorously. Leroy seemed ready to disagree. Finally, he settled for spitting on the floor. Mae's eye twitched.

Turning to leave. "I swear to God Ness you pay me back or you're a dead woman the next time you step out of Terminus! Do you hear me!"

"Don't be a bitch Leroy." She answered, inciting his crew to fight him out the door. The good looking one stopped for a second, glancing back anxiously, then was gone. The atmosphere in the bar returned to normal.

"You really shouldn't antagonize him like that Ness." Mae warned. "Who knows what happens if you die in this place."

"Maybe we reincarnate again back on the other side?" The elf muttered. Dying another time might just about do it for her scrambled memory.

"Then maybe you should watch your karma."

"That money isn't his, Mae." Ness said. "Most of the guys had girls. And most of the girls had guys. Those are the people who deserve their cut. Not a thug like Leroy. Look, I have to head out tomorrow, before the trail goes cold. If I wire you the dosh, can you make sure it gets to the right people?"

Mae nodded.

"Good." Ness knocked back her drink.

Unlimited hot water and clean beds.

Really the two things the Red Fox had going for it.

It made up for the cramped rooms. The thin walls. The street noise. And and the absence of almost every other luxury.

Ness concentrated on the roar of the water drowning out all sound, the beating on her skin numbing her to touch, the steam filling up the air and smothering scent. She closed her eyes and let the water pour over her.

She remembered.

Mae had been the one who had taught her to meditate. At first as a way to heal her mind after dying. Only later had it become a way to separate herself from what little she could remember, trying to relive it dispassionately for clues.

Mostly what she remembered was tangled up in him . . .

Ness ground her teeth. The water began to steam off of her skin.

And dying . . .

The only memory that didn't fill her with anger and shame.

She remembered staring down the barrel of a gun. She remembered being shot. But that wasn't how she had died.

The smell of gas.

Fire.

Unbearably hot.

That was enough . . .

Ness grabbed the valve and shut it off. She rested against the stall until the thick air began to grow cold.

She dried and half dressed before stepping out of the shower stall, scrubbing her hair with a towel as she took a seat on the narrow bed and looked over the train schedule. She could be in the Marches by the next night. Traveling all in one day would avoid the Terrors. They didn't come out much in daylight. They didn't care much for too many people in one spot either.

There was a knock at the door. Ness took the revolver from her holster and, keeping it behind her back, went to check.

Tall dark and handsome stood in the hall outside.

"Set, right?" She'd caught the name sometime since he'd joined up.

"Miss Ness." He nodded, eyes darting. "You're . . . naked . . ."

"I'm wearing pants and I have towel." She told him. "That's not naked. It's . . . half naked . . . What are you doing here?"

"Could I-I step in for a minute?"

She nodded, making room for him to crouch through the doorway. There was just barely enough room for them both inside the closet of a room. The bed springs groaned under his weight and he apologized for nearly knocking over the vase full of roses on the night stand.

"I'm still not used to moving with this body." He admitted.

"It's alright." Ness said. "I was tripping over myself for months. You're . . . two months old?" From the day he'd incarnated in this world.

"Three." Set nodded. "You?"

"Five years next month." God had it really been five years?

Set eyed the revolver in her hand. "Insurance policy." She said. Mae would't have been happy with holes in her establishment. But it beat being dead a second time. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Leroy's serious."

"Of course he is."

"If he can't get his money from you tomorrow he's going to try and kill you."

"Of course he will." Ness fiddled with her revolver, testing the action with the chamber open. "He's not getting that money by the way."

"Don't take the train."

Ness' eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Leroy's got a guy who can hijack the Tin Men. He's going to have the ones at the station looking to detain you and hand you over to him. He wants to do this quietly."

"One. That's impossible. The Tin Men are Engram Tech. And two. Mister Exidor will kill every one of you if he finds out Leroy can do that."

"That's why he's only doing the ones at the station. And only long enough to get to you. And it's why I'm telling you instead of going to Mister Exidor." The big man ran a hand through wild black hair. His expression troubled. "I owe Leroy and the crew, Miss Ness, he took me in when I didn't have anyplace else to go. There's gotta be a way for this to end without anyone getting hurt."

"With Leroy? Not in my experience." Ness sighed, sizing him up. There was clearly a pretty good brain inside all that handsome brawn. "Alright. I'll take your advice. If I were you though, I'd make myself scarce for a few days."

"Okay. Why?"

"Because Leroy isn't going to calm down when he realizes I've given him the slip. He's got it in his head I owe him a smooth million. If we meet out there you're going to have to have to make choices you'd rather not."

"He took me in, Miss Ness." Set repeated. "I can't abandon him."

"Brains. Brawn. And loyal." She shook her head. "Leroy doesn't deserve you kid." And she meant kid. Whether they looked it or not, there was a certain way they carried themselves, that they swung their weight around, and a certain lost puppy way they looked at a woman who caught their fancy.

He looked at her with those lost puppy eyes right then. Not sure what he was supposed to do in a room with a, half naked, woman.

"You like what you see?" She asked. Getting a nervous nod. "Believe me, we'd both regret it in the morning." She put a finger over his lips as he tried to apologize. "Just do what I say Set. Keep yourself safe. I'll defuse this thing with Leroy. And maybe once you have some more experience under your belt, who knows, this line of work always calls for reliable partners."

"R-Really?" She coaxed him up and back to the door.

"Good Night, Set."

"Good Night. Ness."

Ness had finished dressing before his foot steps had faded.

If Leroy was doing something as stupid as crossing Mister Exidor he wouldn't be above doing something even stupider even sooner.

She debated going back to the man himself and neatly seeing Leroy strung up. But like she'd told Set, Leroy would be swinging beside a lot of other boots who didn't deserve it.

So she stole out of the Red Fox and onto the night streets of Terminus, sight unseen.

She passed a police booth. A pair of Tin Men charging. They looked like Lyman without the lifetime of personality. Heads rotated like battleship turrets. Pale blue eyes followed her across their field of vision.

Disarmed.

Safeties on.

There was a storage yard on the edge of town off of Zimbabwe and Algiers, near the river docks. She had a key for the gate and a key for the locker where she kept an arsenal.

What to take and what to leave?

Rifle. Lever action. Reliable. Ammunition. Boxes and bandoleers. A survival pack. And a lot of spare cash. If she needed more than that she was dead anyways. She locked up the rest and was gone.

Terminus was built on defensible ground. It made it easier to keep the Terrors out. And anyone else who wanted to take a crack at raiding the place. Sometimes wars happened here in the Hereafter as well.

She'd paid cash for a horse at the edge of the docks and by the time the predawn was lightening the sky, Terminus was at her back, illuminated in Mister Exidor's electric power.

She kept to the countryside. The forests and fields. Avoiding the townships. Riding parallel, just out of sight, of the railroad tracks. Leroy couldn't know which way she was headed and he didn't have the manpower to canvas everyplace.

The tracks diverged through the foothills and it became impossible to keep with them while staying out sight. She checked her map and set off for the mountain path, intent on regaining the tracks on the other side.

That was when Ness first sensed that she was being followed.

It kept its distance. A dark silhouette matching her pace at around a half mile.

A Terror.

Ness pulled back on the reigns, bringing her horse to a halt. The terror went still. She shouldered her rifle and took careful aim.

A shot.

The Terror stumbled back before regaining its starting position.

Again.

And again it returned.

A third time.

She hit something important. The silhouette toppled and was still. Ness frowned, spurring her horse onward. She hadn't been flippant with Leroy. Terrors usually didn't bother her. She didn't know what to make of one stalking her in daylight.

The sun rose high in the sky over a heat rippled landscape. Ness drank sparingly from her canteen. Checking her map again she navigated for a narrow pass that would get her across the hills and back to civilization before dark. The important thing was not to be alone after the sun set. Just as they avoided the cities and daylight, Terrors were drawn to lone night travelers like moths to flame.

The impression of being followed did not leave her though. Ness did not know why until she stopped for rest. Again a dark silhouette. The same dark silhouette. Closer this time. Perhaps a quarter of a mile. It stood. Seemingly waiting for her to set out again. And when she did, it kept a steady distance.

"Bloody hell."

Again she had sighted. Again she had shot. And again it had fallen.

She turned her horse back and advanced on the still body. Standing off at fifty yards. The crumpled carcass looked like nothing so much as an indistinct tangle of long, twisted, blackened limbs. Something like an amputee tarantula hit by a blowtorch. Ness drew her revolver and emptied the cylinder. Satisfied, she turned her horse and set off again, reloading as she went.

It was waiting for her at the pass.

Ness stared. The Terror stared back. It did not move. It simply waited. Like it knew she had to go through it. The sun had passed its zenith. It was starting to sink over the hill tops. Night would come early here. If she was going to make the lit roads by sunset she had to go this way. Stroking her horse to calm its unease she drew her revolver. She checked her aim.

First shot. Cleanly through the shoulder. It staggered.

Second. Shot. Center of mass. It stepped back.

Ness spurred her horse into a gallop.

Third and fourth shots doubled it over.

Fifth shot. The head. It tumbled back.

Ness had a brief moment to glimpse it up close. About twice the size of a man, twisted char blackened limbs and protruding bone, a glimpse of tortured expression on its face. Faces . . .

She'd seen enough of the unsettling horrors before. But something about this one wouldn't let go. She couldn't look away until her horse trampled over it and the Terror was vanishing in the dust behind her.

She pushed her horse at a dangerous pace, feeling the sweat soaking its coat, taut flanks heaving. It couldn't keep this up for long. Just until the next bend she decided, coming around the shade of the trees.

Something moved fast beneath the canopy. Its limbs a blur.

Coming up parallel with her, it dove from the shade to swipe her from the saddle. Elvish reflexes broke her fall. Ness landed and tumbled fast and hard across the rock strewn ground. A hammer blow struck between her shoulder blades as she came to a stop. She gasped out.

Her vision was filled with a face full of horror.

The Terror pressed down on her. Its weight pushing down on her. Exhaling on her. Its breath . . . smelled like nothing . . . But its whole body was cloying with the scent of smoke. Of fuel. The reek of burning hair and flesh that set Ness into a panic. The Terror grabbed her by the head with a skeletal blackened hand. It squeezed like a vise.

Pressure built at Ness' temples and then pushed inward. A throbbing pain that was sending her vision red. She clawed blindly for something, anything . . .

A rock.

Rage boiled up. Her hand closed around rough stone and she swung blindly into the Terror's side. Aiming for where she felt what she thought was it's skull.

It squeezed. And she bashed.

Ness screamed, trying to let out the pressure.

Squeeze.

Bash. "JUST" Bash.

Squeeze.

Bash. "FUCKING" Bash.

Squeeze.

Bash. "DIE" Bash.

The air grew hot. Impossibly hot. The Terror's charred hide began to smolder and smoke.

Ness' vision was going from red to black. The throbbing grew in her temples. Then . . . Suddenly the pressure was released. She collapsed, panting, head spinning, ears ringing, vision swimming.

The Terror was backing off. Falling back into the cloud of its smoke at the advance of something sleek and swift.

The last thing Ness recalled was a fearsome howl.

The smell of smoke.

Burning.

Ness snapped awake. Eyes open. Breath coming quick and short. She sat up, searching for her pistol. She found it in its holster at her side.

"Calm yourself." A serene voice instructed her. "You are in no danger any longer."

She looked around. She was at a fireside. Nobody else around. Only her and a dog. Or maybe a wolf. The shape looked wulfen, as did the size, but the coat was sable. It was clad in metal armor. Light plates adorned with canine heraldry. It must have belonged to someone. The guard dog of a Bounty Hunter or a caravan.

It watched her skeptically.

"Is that it boy?" She offered her hand to sniff. "Did you and your master rescue me? Where are they now I wonder?" She craned her neck. They were surrounded by darkness. Only the fire to keep the unknown at bay. Odd, she didn't feel vulnerable.

"I will pretend you did not say that." The dog's eyes narrowed. "I am my own master. Thank you very much."

Ness processed this. "Are you your own best friend?"

The dog huffed. "Do not make me regret saving you."

"I am grateful." She offered, wincing as she tried out her left arm. She was a little stiff, a little sore. "I meant no disrespect. One of my best friends is a vixen."

"I am no animal." The dog's expression became a canine scowl. "I am, or was, a man. Once. A Heaven Sent General. I do not remember my earthly name but you may call me Xiao."

"Ness." Ness offered back. "So, Xiao. You didn't happen to catch my horse, did you?"

"I am afraid I was indisposed saving your life."

"Yeah." Ness could see only as far as the firelight. Beyond that, all was pitch blackness. "That was a tough one."

"Indeed. It was hunting you."

"Terrors don't hunt." Ness replied. "They latch onto a scent and they just keep coming until you put them down . . . But I did put it down." Checking her revolver, there were five spent rounds in the cylinder. That's what she thought. The residual throbbing in her temples flared up. She winced.

"Where were you going that you risked traveling the mountains alone?"

"I'm heading for the Marches. On the edge of the Everplanes."

"Lots of Terrors that way recently." The dog observed.

"There must be a war on the other side."

"There's always a war on the other side." Xiao frowned. It was an expression he made only with his brows. "Is your journey personal?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You are a Bounty Hunter. Nobody else travels the wilds so far and so lightly. You must have spent a great deal of time in the field. You've encountered Terrors before."

Ness nodded. "People think it's about fighting them. But a good bounty hunter doesn't attract a lot of Terrors in the first place . . ." No horse and now she was a marked woman in the middle of the Wilds. "This is a problem." She was relying on moving across the Wilds to avoid Leroy and his crew. If her profile with the Terrors had gone up that meant she'd be forced to pick her executioner.

"Perhaps." Xiao said. "If you are trying to reach the Marches. I could show you the way through the mountains."

"On foot?"

"It is a harder path. But much shorter. And I shall be with you if your Terror returns."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" The Dog-General asked.

"Yes." Ness answered flatly.

Xiao pawed at his muzzle. "I believe I heard the jingling of coin when I dragged you to safety. I would never dream of taking payment that was not freely given. Nor for saving a life. However . . ."

"Payment for services rendered is another story." Ness sighed. She appreciated the candor. "Name your price."

"Half of what you are carrying." Xiao said. "Half of that now. Half when we arrive at the Marches. For that I shall be your guard and guide."

He watched silently as she poured out a handful of silver coins and put them in the pouch Xiao indicated on his armor.

Ness laid herself back down gingerly, resting her head on her pack and staring into the sky. Something nagged at her. "We're alone? How did you start a fire?"

Xiao gave a canine shrug. "Ancient Chinese wisdom."

They set out the next morning. Xiao pissing on the embers and covering them with a few kicks of his hind legs.

Ness debated stopping to search for her horse. The truth was it would slow her down. She'd bought it knowing she was going to sell it for next to nothing. So sending a prayer it's way, she had set out with Xiao.

It turned out for the best. The hound new the hills. Every animal track and footpath. The paths which looked easy but were treacherous and the ones which appeared impassible until approached just so. And the all but invisible shortcuts which could cut hours off of a journey.

They talked sporadically as they traveled. Mostly when they stopped to rest. Xiao knew where to find clean springs and shaded resting places too.

"I have guarded travelers of the hills for many years." Xiao answered when asked about his knowledge. "We all need a duty to sustain us. This one is mine. Or perhaps it is penitence for sins I do not remember."

"Not that sinful. You saved me out of the goodness of your heart."

"And you?" He looked at her, weighing her. "Why do you seek to end this persons life? Do you think it is a penance?"

"Penance? No. This is to make them penitent. I want to look them in the eye and know that they remember what they did. Then I want to pull the trigger."

She wanted justice. It hadn't been fair. It was his fault.

"Hmm." Xiao bowed his head after a time. "Have you considered that this is futile?"

"Meaning?"

"Consider this." Xiao padded along a little ahead of her, showing her the less than obvious path through scrub and brush. "When we arrive in the Hereafter, we are bereft of most our memories. Our very identity is in flux. Crossing over takes from us. Who is to say what is left is not our best nature?"

"Come on. I don't believe you really think that. We've both met people."

"An evil inner nature is not the only cause of evil." Xiao answered.

She cast her eyes down. "Then there wouldn't be anything left of him to come over to this side."

Maybe she would have believed differently before. But dying changed some things. Stripped away the delusions and old habits. The ones that had stopped her from fighting back.

She saw what he was now. He was supposed to have loved her. Now she hated him.

"Perhaps." Xiao said, and was then silent for many hours.

There were animals in the hills. Sheep and goats. And a creature which resembled the crossing of a pony and an Ibex. They were ridden by the shepherds, Xiao told her, the men who raised the protected the mountain flocks.

Ness expected to feel herself being followed again. She'd never experienced that sensation before. Not in this lifetime. But now it was inescapable. She kept checking over her back.

Nothing . . .

Eventually morning had become noon had become evening. They were still heading North, broadly the direction she wanted to be going and this at least took her far from anyplace Leroy would be looking. They had settled to rest overlooking a caravan route. Not so far from the fires of other travelers. There had been no Terrors that night either. But from time to time Ness had woken to Xiao's growling as he stood watch.

The next day they ate before setting out. Xiao revealing roots he had left to roast in the embers of their fire and returning from the brush with a twitching hare in his jaws. He'd shown Ness which berries to pick and she had traded him a tin of canned meat and a bag of herbal tea.

The path had grown steep. The route became hard. The only evidence that they were traveling someplace were the stone markers which began to appear and the carved steps which made a path where no other was possible.

Another day was nearly passed when Xiao stopped so suddenly that Ness nearly walked into him. He seated himself erect. Eyes forwards and ears piqued.

"We are here."

"Here?" Ness looked up to where the path terminated under a wooden gateway. The roof of a small hut peaked out from the summit.

"We will be staying here tonight. Tomorrow we will start on the downward path. It is steeper but shorter. Come. There is someone I would like you to meet."

Xiao stood and trotted up the steps.

With no choice, Ness followed.

A man was waiting for them when they reached the summit. An age wizened hermit dressed simply in homespun clothes. He smiled as if they were expected.

Ness stepped across the threshold of the gateway and looked out on the world that spanned to the horizon under a cloud streaked painted evening sky. The jagged scars of lesser peaks and valleys. The wrinkles of the foothills. The flat checkered planes. And in the far distance the small island of Terminus lit in the shadow beside a snaking ribbon of river. Ness was surprised how far they had traveled. Like Xiao's knowledge of the mountain paths had annihilated the distance and remade it behind them.

"Xiao. You are a sight for sore eyes." The hermit's voice was old but full of good spirits. "I see you have brought another one."

"Excuse me?" Ness hovered her hand over her holster.

"You are not the first traveler Xiao has guided across the mountains." The hermit said. "Or the first he has brought here."

"She is on her way to the Marches to kill a man." Xiao informed him matter of factly.

"A woman now." Ness corrected habitually. Wincing as her temples throbbed. "Strange. I know."

The hermit's eyes widened and he looked to Xiao who gave a canine shrug and trotted up to the door of the hut.

"I do not know about any killing." The man said. "But you have traveled a very long way. Please, come inside. I have a little to eat and to drink. It is not much. But we will make due. Norbu is my name."

"And this is Ness." Xiao introduced.

Norbu's hut was as spartan as Ness expected. It was a single room built around a small hearth and appointed with age worn cabinets of painted wood containing the lone occupant's few earthly possessions. A pot of porridge cooked over the hearth accompanied faintly by the scent of herbal tea.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. It is not much. But it is home."

In the brief time he was out of sight, Xiao had somehow shed his armor and curled himself up on a pillow beside Norbu. The wizened hermit reached down and stroked him absently behind the ears.

Ness sank to the floor. Sitting crossed legged.

"So. Tell me, Ness. Why is it, do you think, that Xiao has brought you here?"

"I hope it is because it is the fastest way across the mountains." She glanced at the dog. "Is it?"

"Almost." Norbu said. "I am sure he would have used that one if he thought it was appropriate."

"Forgive me Ness." Xiao bowed his head. "But traveling with you, I was convinced to come here. Because of your Terror."

"My Terror?"

"You have been uneasy about it since we met." Xiao said. "I have been driving it off. But it hunts you. It is relentless. I will not have guarded you well unless I keep you safe from this danger."

"So you brought me to a wise man? I'm not in the market for spiritual enlightenment."

"Ha." Norbu sighed. "You are a very determined woman. Your karma earned you a strong young body when you incarnated in this world. It is easier for you to fight than listen. Clearly this is not a spiritual lifetime for you."

He reached around to take the tea pot from the hearth and poured for them. Setting a rough clay mug before each of his guests. Ness took the mug. The smell was nice . . . It tasted like an air freshener. She put the mug down quickly.

"But determination will not allow you to prevail against what chases you."

"I've dealt with them before. It's my work. This time isn't any different."

"Is it not? Then I do not know why Xiao brought you here."

"I don't . . . Understand . . ." Ness said. "I killed it. And then it was right behind me. I killed it again. And it was in front of me. Why?"

"What are the things you call Terrors?" Norbu drank his tea. "Why do you think they attack people?"

Ness looked down at her reflection in the tea. In the dimness of the hut, the faint fire within her own eyes caught and formed two points of starlight.

"Because we dig up engrams out in the Wilds. And that's where they live? Because people who have just been incarnated are easy pickings?"

"Those would be very good reasons if the Terrors were dangerous animals." Norbu agreed. "In fact. There is no reason. The Terrors have none. It is their name. Terror. Fear. Disharmony. The chaff of a lifetime which is separated from us when we cross over to this world. They respond violently. But there is no intent. Our intentions direct them."

"You are almost five years old, Ness?" Xiao asked. "Surely you did not think about revenge all of that time."

"No. I was busy surviving." For the first few months she might as well have been a child. If not for Mae, who knew what would have happened to her. "Besides, I didn't have a place, a face, a name."

"But you did think about it from time to time?" Norbu asked.

"Yes."

When it was quiet and she was alone. In her darkest dreams. When she had looked in from outside at what he had done to her. She had realized it was wrong.

"And you felt anger at these times?" The hermit continued.

"Yes."

"You never thought to let this anger go?"

"No."

How could she? It wasn't fair. It was his fault.

It wasn't fair.

It was his fault.

He was making her do this.

"It is very difficult." Norbu sighed. "Anger is a natural emotion. But very dangerous. You should allow yourself to feel it and then let it go. If you do not, it will be impossible to overcome this Terror of yours."

"Shooting them usually works." Ness answered.

"That is only meeting force with force." The hermit shook his head and Ness had the vague impression she was supposed to feel ashamed. "You may stop it for a time. But it will only come back stronger. Ness. You must let go. Let go of your anger." She shook her head. "Let go."

"No." She said flatly. "I can't do that. This person? They don't deserve a second life." It wasn't fair. "And even if I could forgive them. I can't let them do the same thing to somebody else."

"So you are judge and executioner now?" The hermit asked.

"I am their keeper." Ness resolved. "When I died. When they killed me. I killed them. I shot them . . ." Ness winced, she'd been the one who was shot. "That's why I knew to look for them. This one is here in the Hereafter because of me. I am responsible for them."

"What if they have changed?" Norbu asked. "You are not the same. Stronger than you were. And you say this man is now a woman. Could his life here not have taught him remorse?"

Ness shook her head. "I could never be in their head to know for sure. And living knowing that would be insane. I couldn't do it."

Norbu breathed another long sigh. "Very difficult. Very difficult Ness."

"Do you ever saying anything other than 'very difficult'? Must be easy lording it down on everyone. What does monk know about feeling for anyone?" The fire in the hearth grew hotter and brighter. Ness just wanted to lash out. She wanted to . . . to . . . Both Xiao and Norbu looked alarmed. Ness realized she'd half stood and half raised her voice. And when she did, she felt . . . ashamed . . . She sat slowly. "Sorry."

Norbu ignored her apology for a moment as he tended to the hearth.

"It is a mistake to think that we on the path of enlightenment are devoid of human suffering. Ness. After many years I am not that enlightened at all. Do you know what I remember from my past life?"

"You're going to tell me." She predicted.

"I remember my younger brother. He was very important man. Very honest. Very kind. He was always talking about his troubles even with a lowly sweeper. And listening to others troubles. I regret that he was not at my bed when I died."

"I wouldn't want to die alone either." Not again. Not given the choice.

"I was not alone. I had my sons with me. But I knew he would have wanted to be there. I know he was troubled that he was not there. I wish I could have lived a little longer. I wish I could have spared him that little suffering."

"Even hermits have regrets." Ness said.

"Ha." He nodded.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I want you to know that I know what it is when I say it is difficult. And I hope you will try to remember and learn. Even to the last minute of your life. You should not hate this person. If you have the strength to protect yourself from them then that is enough. Instead you should try to help them."

They sat in the silence and the dimness of the hut lit only by the hearth flame. Finally, Norbu decided that the porridge was done.

Ness hadn't realized how hungry she was.

Anything would have tasted good.

She set out with Xiao at dawn. Norbu had pointed out the way they should take, following the shoulder of the mountain and then a steep valley into the foothills of the far side and at last the Marches.

Despite Xiao's warning and Norbu's urging, Ness thought about what she was going to do. There wasn't another way.

Even if Leroy was after her for skipping town. There wasn't another way. Even if her own personal nightmare was hunting her. There wasn't another way.

It was his fault she was doing this.

He was making her do it.

It was as Norbu said. The path was long. And it was steep. But it was downhill almost the entire way. Funny how that sounded easy until you had to do it.

They encountered more animals on this side of the mountain. And in the distance, people. Shepherds and goatherds mostly. The Marches and the Everplanes were the breadbasket of Terminus. The mines sunk into the this side of the mountains tore up copper that was ever in demand by the Exidor Electric Company as they sought to electrify the whole of the Hereafter.

Eventually they had reached their parting place. A fork in the road. One path lead back, the shorter path through the mountains. The other . . .

"Will take you to where you want to go." Xiao said.

"Thank you." Ness nodded as she kneeled to offer Xiao the rest of his pay.

"You should not thank me." The dog said. "I could not convince you to avoid the path of ruin."

"You could try to stop me." She reasoned. "By your logic I am going off to kill an innocent. They're not innocent."

"Kill you so that you will not kill them? That would be arbitrary. You are not a murderer Ness."

"Restrain me then."

"You have a Terror hunting you. I think that speaks that you would find a way." Xiao shrugged. "Either way, we will not meet again. Farewell Ness."

She had watched him go. Stopping on the first rise to let out a howl. He had broken into a trot and been gone.

The Marches were sort of a satellite of Terminus. Fortified townships. They existed because of the City. A buffer against the Wilds and the other Cities that pinned down the corners of the Everplanes. And an always convenient place to dump people too troublesome for Terminus and too much trouble to dispose of another way.

Ness found good hill overlooking where she had been told she would find him. A homestead on the edge of one of the new reaches. She took the time to scope out the place with an oil-lens monocular. Rotating the focus until she got a good view of the homestead.

Stop.

Focus in. A woman. Very human. Average height. Long brown hair.

Ness squinted. The throbbing at her temples was getting worse.

Something cold and hard pressed against the back of her head.

"G'Day Ness." A drawling voice announced. She felt a hand removing her pistol from its holster.

"Jank." She sighed.

"Come on. Let's go see the boss."

"If it isn't my favorite girl. Ness. How ya been?"

Leroy sat atop the hood of a skeletal tracked vehicle mounted with search light and a high caliber machine gun.

The sort of all terrain crawler that was favored by bounty hunters on expeditions across the Wilds.

One of Leroy's crew manned the gun. Another manned the spotlight. Set stood silently beside them, watching in subdued panic. Ness pointedly avoided looking at him.

There were eight of them. Leroy and Leroy's second in command, Jank, a lean, mean, hatchet faced man with short cropped red hair who preferred to show off his mercenary chops with a bondalier of pipe bombs. Set. The crawler crew. And three more. Not part of the crew. But something else.

"Mister Exidor is going to kill you when he finds out you have those." Ness nodded at the trio of Tin Men standing watch like stern modern art installation. Their blue eyes were currently yellow.

Armed.

Safeties On.

"He'll never know." Leroy said. "I got a guy on the inside put these together from scrapped parts. Just as good as the ones walking the beat in Terminus. But man, almost broke these guys out for nothing, you were not easy to track down Ness. ."

"How'd you find me Leroy?"

"A little birdy told me."

He pointed to the sky as a shape slipped down over the hill, stretching out talon studded legs. It landed, absorbing the shock as it folded into a crouch and folded black feathered wings flush with its back.

It stood. Abnormally tall and long nosed. Extending a hand as a perch for its wingman. A completely ordinary crow.

"A tengu." Ness muttered. "You hired a Tengu."

"Desperate times am I right?" Leroy laughed.

"Pretty desperate to be hiring a Tengu." Ness raised her voice. "I thought you said you'd never work with any of the freaks?"

The Tengu and its pet crow pivoted their heads to look between Ness and their employer.

"Well obviously I didn't mean you!" Leroy laughed and waved at his tracker. "I mean some other freaks." Smiling mirthlessly at Ness. "You know. I was going to let you keep your cut. But after making me come get you . . . Yeah fuck that."

"There's no payday for you Leroy." Ness shrugged. "Bank don't generally make withdrawals at gun point."

Leroy bobbed his head along with what she was saying. "I can fix that." He drew his piece and touched it to a long elvish ear. "I hear these are real sensitive. How much of'm d'ya think I'll have to shoot off before your change your tune, Ness?"

"Boss", Set started, "Boss this isn't right."

"Shut up Set." Leroy said without turning from Ness. "Just watch. You might learn something . . . What's it gonna be Ness?" He cocked the hammer.

Leroy shook his head. "Shit, Mae knows your account information doesn't she? I'll just get it out of her." He changed his aim to the middle of her head.

Ness felt her temples ache. "You're in my way Leroy."

"What're you going to do? Shoot me?"

Jank waved her pistol with a little "-tsk-tsk-".

"Heh."

"What's so funny?" Leroy frowned.

"You remember I'm a mage right?" Ness's eyes flickered.

Leroy squinted then laughed. "Hah! You mean your parlor tricks? If you call that being a mage."

"How bout I light some candles?"

Ness snapped her finger. There was a flash of heat and a tongue of flame that caused Leroy and his crew to Jump.

Leroy laughed. "That's it?"

"No. That is."

A faint sizzling filled the air. All eyes turned to Jank. His vest had started to smoke.

Leroy's second pawed madly at at his bandoleers. Trying to tear them free.

Leroy was faster. The troll of a man delivered a powerful kick into the chest of his second, throwing the man back. Then put two rounds in his chest before he could panic and run back at the crew.

Ness took the opening. Grabbing Leroy, she muscled him between her and Jank.

The fuses ran out.

There was very little light. Just a flash. Smoke. Leroy absorbed most of the concussion and then delivered it into Ness in a body slam. They'd fallen together.

The Elf drove a knee into Leroy's stomach, dragging herself out from under him.

The Tengu squawked as it took to the air with its pet.

The Tin Men were already responding, turning in from their perimeter watch, eyes red.

Armed.

Safeties off.

They took two steps and then were staggered mid stride.

A heavy repeating -thunk- filled the air as the crawler's machine gun opened fire. Set was at the trigger. The original operator rolled down the front of the crawler and onto the ground clutching his head. The kid might have hesitated to pull triggers on his own crew, but the bots were another story.

Tin Men were built like tanks. Ness had seen them shrug off shot and rifle fire. But a rain of half inch full metal jacket was beyond them. One went down, battered to pieces. The other two turned on the crawler, their automatic brains reappraising it as a threat.

Hostile.

Destroy.

One of the bots was wielding a repeater. It took aim at Set and missed, one photo receptor flickering. Leroy's quality guarantee had been exaggerated. The second was given no chance to demonstrate its aim as its head was taken off. It seized, and then dropped its shoulder and charged the crawler.

The light vehicles skidded on its tracks. The fuel tanks ruptured, the smell of kerosene filled the air.

"Set!" Ness shouted.

Jumping down from the gun mount, he ran across the hood, narrowly escaping a dive bombing by the Tengu. The bird-man squawked in anger, then pain as the blind grip of the beheaded tin man closed around his legs and pulled him from the sky. Ness didn't see what happened next. Just the pummeling of hydraulic fists and the wild beating of wings which were quickly broken. Then a bright flare of heat as sparks of the damaged Tin Men met kerosene fuel. The whole crawler went up as Set jumped from the hood.

"Miss Ness!" Set ran for her. "We have to go. We have to get out of . . ."

-Bang-

Set kept running.

-Bang-

His expression twisted.

-Bang-

He realized he'd been shot.

-Bang-

His legs came out from under him. He sank to the ground, skidding and rolling to a halt.

"Set?" Ness shouted. "Set!"

She ran to him. He was still alive when she got there. He saw her as she turned him over. As she tried to staunch the bleeding. But the shots had been true.

"Set." Ness looked him in the eyes.

"T's okay Miss Ness . . ." He managed. "Sorry I didn stay low like you said . . . Couldn abandon'm . . ." He looked through her and his gaze went blank.

Ness didn't really feel herself being shot. She felt herself being spun from the shoulder. At the time, the second shot which grazed her ribs hurt more.

"You bitch!"

You bitch!

"Look what you've done!" Leroy screamed.

Look at what you've done. He screamed.

The stout man was back on his feet. His face was blood covered and twisted in rage. He reloaded his revolved as he advanced.

He was unbuckling himself from the driver's seat, trying to reach her in the back.

Ness's eyes swept across the destruction. Set's body. The burning crawler. Stomach twisting. The sound of the crawlers crew as the vehicle blazed. It went on for a while, unearthly, but no long. It was replaced by the smell. Like burning pork.

She'd done this. She'd distracted him. It was her fault!

The smell of kerosene and smoke.

The smell of gas fumes.

And the noise.

And the sound.

And the fire.

And the flames.

The gun shots.

The gun shots.

"Its on you Ness!"

No.

"My boys are dead. Jank. Set!"

No!

"You made me do it! It's your fault!"

Leroy advanced, taking aim at her head. Ness looked at him and through him. This wasn't how it had gone.

It's your fault.

The expression on the other side of the gun hadn't been wrath. It had been fear. Maddening, blinding, fear.

It's your fault.

And he hadn't loomed large over her. He had been laid out beneath her as she reached down with strong arms. Wrapping her hands around his head and squeezing.

It's your fault!

And it hadn't been him. It had been her.

She'd pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. The flash must have ignited the fumes . . .

Fingers slipped through her hair. The unbearable pounding in her temples. She saw Leroy. Something simply broke.

She snapped her fingers and he fired. The flash dazzled him. It opened the way. Ness pushed off, grabbing hold of his head with her right hand.

Light ignited behind Leroy's eyes and from inside his throat. Both roared their rage. But only one of them was a mage.

The light grew and grew. And when it guttered out, it left behind only blackness as smoke streamed from Leroy's mouth, his nostrils, his empty eye sockets.

The Bounty Hunter fell dead. Ness sank to the earth, shaking.

The feeling of being watched was back. She looked up. On the far side of the flames her Terror loomed, watching her with empty eyes.

It was the first time she had looked at it clearly. Illuminated by the fire. Charred bent limbs. Two pair of arms two pair of legs bent and twisted around one another until they became one. A smaller shriveled torso caged within blackened ribs. One head resting beneath the other, expression twisted in a death mask of agony, it's tormentor contorted in rage.

It stared at her.

Ness stared back.

It didn't move.

What was it waiting for?

It turned in the direction of the marches. The direction of Ness.

"No." Ness shook her head. "No!"

It set off, ignoring her, bones and joints cracking and breaking endlessly as it moved. Torturing itself.

Ness staggered to her feet and ran after it. She thrust out a hand, parting the flames and throwing them across its back. Charred carcass shrugged off the fire as if it were rain.

"Stop! You want me!"

Ness saw her piece glittering on the ground, not far from the crater that marked Jank's final resting place. She scooped it up and fired. One shot, then two, three, four, five. Each round staggered the Terror less. It ignored her.

No. It didn't ignore her. It was her Terror. It was her terrible intent.

Ness knew she'd been right.

It was his fault. And she had to make it right.

She pressed the barrel firmly to her temple.

She pulled back the hammer.

She pulled the trigger.

. . .

-click-

The sound was so small. It echoed off the hills and the mountains. It rebounded off the sky.

The Terror stopped. It turned.

-click-

Ness heaved a breath.

-click

She shook. Tears ran from her eyes. She sank to her knees, trembling and sick.

The terror loomed over her. Ness looked up at its empty eyes. She closed hers. She waited.

Nothing.

She opened her eyes.

The terror was gone.

Only the sounds of fire remained.

-bang-

Ness jumped. Her piece skipped across the ground, smoke streaming from the barrel.

Silence once again.

The Red Fox was waiting for her when she limped back to Terminus.

Lyman was waiting for her to check her piece.

And Mae was waiting to inspect her wounds.

"That wasn't all of Leroy's Crew." The Fox-Woman observed as she worked. They sat at the counter together. Nobody said a word about a shirtless bleeding woman. The Red Fox was a strange place for strange people. "What about the rest of them?"

"We came to an arrangement." Ness answered quietly. Disposing of the wrecked Tin Men before Mister Exidor found out had bought her in to the new leaderships good graces. It also helped that they liked her more than Leroy. They weren't going to be bothering her anymore.

Ness winced as Mae swabbed her welted skin. "Can you be careful?"

"Could you have found a real doctor to have treated this?" Mae asked.

"Not many real doctors out in the Marches." Ness pulled her shirt closed as Mae set something stronger than beer in front of her. She stared at the amber liquid and when she finished her first glass, and poured herself another, a question of the philosophically inebriated came to her mind.

"Mae?"

"Yes?"

"Am I . . . A good person?"

The Fox-Woman did not answer.

"Mae?"

"There are much worse." She decided. "You try to be better than most."

"Maybe you just don't know the real me."

"You mean a secret inner nature?" Mae asked. "I do not believe such a thing exists save as the salve of a guilty mind. No amount of wishes or excuses can make you what you are not."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It is exactly so." Mae answered as she poured herself a glass to drink with Ness. "What am I to think? You left to kill a person and when you returned you asked me to wire them your cut of your last job."

"Anonymously." Ness said.

"Of course. But why the change of heart, Ness?"

"No reason really." Ness touched a hand to where her temple no longer throbbed. "She just . . . Wasn't who I thought she was."
 
Chrysalis of Capgrass
[ ] Chrysalis of Capgrass
Genre: Mixed, Being Kidnapped and Brought to another world, followed by being magicked back to the lead's world of origin (so Reverse Isekai, basically)

It is weird how I can remember one of my first days so vividly and clearly. I saw my mobile hanging above my crib, its soft music lulling me into a deep slumber. That's when a noise woke me up. Before I began to cry, I saw a hand come over my face and smother me…

Next thing I knew, I was in the arms of someone I didn't know. I could feel the wind breeze past me and I could see the starry night sky. I felt afraid, but for whatever reason, I couldn't scream. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I knew that I was in the arms of a man who was not my father.

This was the only memory I had of the world I was from.

Everything afterwards, there were only memories of a lush, idyllic forest, full of music, color, and nice breezes. The first memory I had of this place was me being placed next to another baby. A girl that was my age. I remembered crying loudly as the man put me in a crib next to her. She cooed and grabbed my hand. Afterwards, I remembered feeling calm and drifting off into sleep.

----

"Rise and shine, Mary!" I felt something jump onto my bed, tackle me, then lock me into a tight, yet relaxing hold. Instantly from the frizzly blue hair alone that Marina had woken up early. "How's my best buddy doing?" She nuzzled her head into my shoulder as she giggled.

"F-fiiine…" I rasped as my body felt the pressure of Marina's grip. She soon gave me a quick peck on the cheek. It stopped being surprising after the dozens of times she did that. We were close. Sometimes a little too close. Though, it may be because I was her first friend, dating all the way back to when we were just babies sharing the same crib.

"Great! I found this amazing spring that we can take a dip in. You interested?" She asked me. I sighed and nodded. She closed her eyes and gave me the cutest grin I could ever see before she picked me up and carried me like I was her bride…

Well, I will be…

It's a long story.

----

As Marina carried me outside our house, blue, translucent butterfly-like wings unfurled from her back. As far as I can remember, this was one of the reasons I knew I was different. Most people had the ability to fly using their wings, but me? I had no wings. Marina's solution was to carry me and fly over to places. I just blushed and buried my face into her shoulders.

I felt the gust of wind and my body losing all sense of gravity as Marina took flight. I held onto her for dear life.

"Don't worry! It's not far!" I could hear the pitter-patter of her wings as they constantly beat. I felt sorry for her, since she assumes I have a fear of flying and thus tries to get to places as soon as possible. In reality, I'm just embarrassed that I have to be carried around by her. True to her word, we were at the springs within five minutes. Marina's bare feet touched the grass as she set me down. I got up and looked around. Seemed there was nobody here.

"See! There it is!" Marina pointed to a small pond. Surrounding it were a series of smooth rocks, piled on top of each other until they formed a sort of wall to keep the water in. By the pond was a huge oak tree with a large crack on its trunk.

"Well, I'll keep watch-" I tried to stand firm, but Marina grabbed my hand.

"Come on! Let's jump in!" Marina dragged me into the pool before she jumped up and landed right into the pool.

"Aaah!" I shouted as I fell in, my clothes drenched in the fresh water. Marina didn't seem to mind that her plain white dress was soaked as well, but me? These were my last pair of clean clothes! Not to mention that I felt chills as the water went all over my body.

"See? Isn't the water fine?" Marina swam towards one of the edges of the pool and laid her back against it. She still held me by the hand, but soon let go as she reached the wall. I rested my back against it as well and sat next to her.

"Y-yeah… It is…" I sighed. The water's temperature soon became less cold, which was good, but I still wasn't happy about this. I was unprepared for a swim, let alone visiting any pool of water. Marina giggled as she moved her feet about. A few moments later, they stopped moving as greenish blue scales grew over them. Within another moment or two, her feet soon merged into what appeared to be the bottom half of a fish.

"Much better!" She smiled. I looked at my own feet and swished them around… No clear sign of any changing. While almost everyone can use wings to fly, only Marina and a few others, labelled as Mermaids, were able to turn their legs into a fish's tail. I frowned. "Hey, don't feel left out." Marina placed her arm around me.

"I don't feel left out. I feel… mundane. Everyone can do all sorts of things, but me? I'm… plain." That's when Marina hugged me.

"Aaaaw! Don't worry! You're special to me! After all, you're gonna be my wife!" I groaned a bit as she kissed me on my cheek.

"C-can you not?" I blushed.

"Oh! Don't worry, we're not getting married for a long while. Dad's still got a few decades left in him before I'm to take his place." Marina said.

"There you are, Marina…" The gruff voice of Fenix caused Marina to sit up straight as the man with an old, wrinkly bird's head flew down and landed near the pond. It was a Vogelian. A royal knight to the King and tasked to instruct rookies to fight alongside them. The faded red rags wrapped over his body helped cover his featherless body. "Your father's getting tired of your constant excursions…" He glared at me with his black-bead eyes. "At least you brought your bodyguard."

"Yeah! I never go anywhere without Mary!" Marina subtly laid her hand against my back.

"Of course. Well, I'll inform Our Majesty of your whereabou-"

"Too late, geezer!" Another Vogelian swooped down behind Fenix. In contrast to Fenix, Garda's head and body were full of golden feathers. He showed it off by not wearing a shirt and only wearing a chainmail kilt. His large talons dug into the dirt. "Already told the King."

"Show-off…" Fenix muttered. "Very well. Shall we leave the girls to their… swimming?" His eyes scanned the pool before turning to Garda.

"Sure. Hey, Mary! Training's gonna happen in an hour. I suggest you dry up in a bit." Garda flapped his large wings that took the place of his arms and flew up into the air. "Last one to the barracks is a rotten egg, Fenix!" He flew away. Fenix just sighed.

"Just wait until I'm reborn, then I'll show you whippersnapper what for!" Fenix ran after Garda. I turned to Marina as I saw her frown.

"I guess we have to cut this short then?" Marina asked.

"Yeah… Gotta learn how to protect you and all that." I said.

"You're already good at protecting me." Marina pouted.

"Well, except for the whole 'not having magic' thing." I looked up to the sky, only for me to find that the tree had provided me some shade. I noticed that there weren't any leaves on the branches. Instead, tall grass lined up all along the branches. They swayed against the wind.

Part of my training with Garda and Fenix was learning all there was to know about this world, which included the plant life. This was what was known as a Capgrass Tree, named so because the tree covered is grass instead of actual leaves.

"Hey, look over here!" Seemed I wasn't the only one who noticed it. I saw Marina get out of the pool. Her tail split back into legs once it touched land and she ran to the crack in the trunk.

"H-hey! Wait up!" I got out of the pool and rushed after her. By body became colder as the wind passed my soaked body.

----

As we entered the tree, we saw that the entire tree had been hollowed out, though the inside of the tree were smoothed out to be more akin to walls. We also noticed that there was a winding staircase spiraling upwards.

"Wooooah!" Marina's jaw dropped. I merely looked at the stairs. Almost every denizen here can fly, so why is there the need for stairs?

"Marina, I think we should go back." I said to her. She merely grabbed me by the hand.

"Oh, don't get so worked up! We're just gonna check this place out and then head home." Marina lifted me up and fluttered up the hollow tree. What would have normally taken hours of climbing became instead five minutes of flying. By the time we made it to the top, Marina was already pooped out and dropped me off onto a wooden platform. She landed as well and panted heavily.

I soon saw in front of me a huge egg with a translucent green shell. Inside was a dark green goop that lied inside the egg. A giant stone statue resembling a dragon's claw held the egg, its talons digging into the shell. Already, danger signs were blaring in my head.

"Marina, we better go." I looked to her, but the moment she lifted her head up and saw the egg, I knew that wasn't gonna be the case.

"Oooh! That's cool!" Marina jogged towards the egg as I ran after her.

"Marina, wait!" I shouted, only to feel a tremor. Marina and I fell onto the ground as I saw the goop in the egg shake. There was another tremor… and another… and another. That's when I saw a pair of hooves. A large bull-headed, brown furred beast stood before us, adorned in a green breastplate. He held an axe, ready to swing.

"WHO DARES ENTER THE TREE!?" The monster bellowed out as Marina got up.

"M-my name is Marina, daughter of Oberon and Princess of Marchenwald." She tried to stand straight, but obviously her legs were quivering.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THIS CHAMBER?" His eyes turned to me. "OF COURSE…" Before I could even ask, he swung his axe at me.

"No! Wait!" Marina waved her hands as a blue bolt shot out of her hands towards the minotaur. He backed away as the plate began to frost up. The minotaur just shook off the ice and roared. "We don't wanna fight, we just want to explore!"

"NO! YOU WANT TO CREATE A DRAKE!" The minotaur charged towards Marina. My heart pounded as I rushed to the bull-man. I thought back to the lessons from Garda on how to grapple large creatures. My feet dug in, hands clenched hard around the monster's arms, and then…

Push!

I shoved the minotaur, though I kept is arms locked in my hold so that he wouldn't use his axe against me. The further I can get him away from Marina, the better. I gritted my teeth and continued to push. To my surprise, I made the minotaur step back. Though, that was for a moment before I saw him lower his head. He thrust his large, pointed horns at me, not to impale me, but to lift me up over his head and throw me off. I fell onto the ground as the minotaur readied his axe. I tried to stand up, but pain shot up from my left ankle. Damn, must have sprained it. I saw Marina in what might be her last stand.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I saw Marina's hands glow red hot. She held them out as fire spewed out from her palms. The minotaur used his head as a makeshift shield and pushed against the spray of flames. His fur burned off his flesh, and yet he did not even wince.

"YOU FARIIES ARE ALL THE SAME! YOU STEAL HUMANS! YOU MAKE SLAVES!" That was the first time I ever heard someone say that word: human. The memory of the night sky and the man who took me began to make sense. My explicit training to be a bodyguard for Marina? Me being so different from everyone else, even the Vogelians? Me not even having magic? It all became more sensible. "AND WHEN THAT'S NOT ENOUGH… YOU CHANGE THEM!" Change them? What did he mean? I turned back to the egg. I was a few feet from it. My mind began to piece two and two together.

The room is the chamber, that's obvious. It seems its purpose is to create something called a Drake, something that apparently involves changing a person. That's when I added the egg into the equation. The egg was large enough for a person to fit inside. I looked back to Marina. The minotaur looked beaten with his burns, though with the way he roared and swung his axe, he sure as hell wasn't gonna be quitting anytime soon.

I took a deep breath and took a gamble. I went for the egg and touched the egg with my hand. Its shell easily gave way, its substance becoming more like a sticky glue rather than a hard cover. The minotaur turned around and saw me pierce the egg's defenses with my hand.

"NO!" I fell into the egg and crashed into the goo. Well, that caught his attention. I tried hard not to let the goo enter my nostrils, but the moment I gasped for air, I felt as though I had swallow them. It didn't take too long before I felt my stomach churn. I had every urge to vomit out the goo, but it soon dissolved into my body. Aches and chills took over my body as I sunk into the goo. The green slime covered my entire body as I felt my skin grow goosebumps… and then more goosebumps on top of it, and so forth until I felt a hard crust form on my arms, legs, and body, followed by a feeling of growth at the bottom of my spine. Headaches came next. There was a pulsing, pounding sensation in my head. The buzzing of wings was a constant noise in my ears as I screamed out in pain.

"MARY!" I could hear Marina scream for me, but it sounded so faint and quiet. Thankfully, the pain stopped, though only because I stopped feeling anything. Even the sprain in my ankle went away. I rose out of the goo, its remnants dripped off me. I saw the goo harden, then break up into dust. I turned to face Marina, who only screamed. The minotaur just growled.

"You…" His voice was quiet for a second… "DUG YOUR OWN GRAVE!" He charged, horns pointed to me. I jumped and felt the skin of my back rip apart. I experienced flaps of my skin pulled out of my back. This all happened in a split second and before I knew it, I hovered in the air while I heard the buzzing sound of wings flapping…

My wings.

I took the chance to look at my body as I flew up above the minotaur. Gone were my clothes and in its place was a shimmering lime green chitin shell over my chest, like that of a bug's thorax. I saw a similar design with my shoulders, legs, and I even touched a similar shell on my head… Along with large mandibles and even larger eyes. My hands had become gloved in the same material, though there were long, blood red, pointed nails that looked more like claws.

There was another part of my body now, located on the lower portion of my back. It looked like a tail, though it was long and stick-like. I was able to move the tail and clubbed the minotaur in the head with it. He was knocked down to the ground as I flew towards Marina. She merely shrieked and held her arms up. I stopped and hovered for a bit. As I landed, I noticed my vision was tinted in a dark green shade. It took me just a split second to realize what had happened…

I became a Drake.

"Marina! It's me, Mary!" I spoke to her, but the only words that came out of my mouth were buzzing.

"What did you do to her?!" She shouted.

"She… did it to herself…" The minotaur gasped a bit as I went over to him.

"Explain. Now." I said.

"What's going on!?" Marina was on the verge of tears.

"You mean you don't know?" He chuckled. "Seems I've been mistaken…" He grunted and got up. "My apologies, both for my actions and what you experienced. My name is Toros, Mother Earth's protector. I spent these past few years watching over the Chrysalis and making sure no one was to use it… And now…" He looked at the broken egg, its goo gone and its shell hardening. "I don't need to. The best I can do now is prepare for what comes next." As he said that, the inside of the egg began to break apart. As the pieces fell, I saw a large, swirling green portal. Before long, my body pulled into the portal. I grabbed the floor with my claws and tried to stop myself from getting sucked in. Marina, on the other hand, was unprepared and was dragged right into the hole.

"MARINA!" I shouted as I let go of the wooden floor and flew into the portal towards her.

----

I saw the starry night sky again as I made it through the portal. However, I could also see Marina plummeting to the ground. I flew down to grab her, then make a soft landing onto the grass beneath us. I held her in my arms like I how Marina carried me. Marina was screaming a bit before she saw how she was held.

"Huh?" She looked up at me as I smiled. The shell of my helmet soon fell apart as I could see Marina in my normal vision again. "M-Mary? What's going on?"

"I don't know. I think I became some sort of bug monster thing and…" I looked around. We were no longer inside the tree. In fact, we were no longer by the tree. We were out in the middle of a grassy field in the middle of the night. There were two long roads paved out. "Where are we?" I asked. I placed Marina onto the ground as she got up. She got onto the road, then looked straight ahead.

"Well, I don't know, but all roads lead to the castle! Chances are, we'll be back home in no time!" She walked ahead. I saw something behind her, coming at her very fast.

"MARINA! LOOK OUT!" The helmet came on again as I grabbed her and pushed her out of the way of a running animal. It roared at us as it passed by. While it moved too fast for me to see, I knew that its eyes were able to emit a light. We landed on the other path.

"What was that!?" Marina shouted. I looked as another animal was on its way. A big one. Its head was segmented from its body, its eyes low to the ground and emitting the same bright light. It had a large body behind it and I could see that there were more than just four legs on it. It gave a lower pitched roar, but it was the same kind of roar that I heard. I picked up Marina and flew up, dodging the elongated animal. I could feel Marina tremble in my arms as I saw that there were more of these kinds of animals on the road. It was almost inspiring, seeing them move with such fast speeds, zooming past us. My helmet came off again.

"We should just fly…" Marina nodded as I flew us towards the end of the road. As I did, though, I saw more of the animals slow down. They wanted to look at us. "Marina, I don't know what these things are, but… You can talk to them, right?" I asked her. If they were animals, a Fairy's bond with nature can help bridge our communication gap.

"Little creatures, I am Princess Marina of Marchenwald, where can I find my home?" Marina sang to the animals. While almost all of them stopped in single file, none of them were willing to answer. Soon, there was small, little roars. A sequence of them, actually. One of the patterns I noticed was one medium roar, three short roars, and then one long roar. Another was three long roars.

After moments of roaring, there was a new roar. A higher pitched one and a very long one it seemed. The creature that made this roar had black and white armor. On its side was a language I cannot understand. Like the other creatures, its body structure was slender with a hump in the middle. However, the creature had something on top of its hump. It looked to be a long but stubby horn that shined both red and blue lights that spun around in circles at us. The roaring stopped as it approached us, though the lights still shined and spiraled. I saw what might be a limb or even a piece of its skin open up as I saw…

It was someone like me. A person with a body structure like mine… Was this what another human looked like? The human took out a strange weapon. It looked akin to a crossbow, though instead of the main structure, it was a large cylinder where one of its ends expanded outward. He put the device's other end close to his mouth.

"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND AND CALMLY LET THE HOSTAGE GO!" He spoke loudly and clearly at us… Perhaps the item was a translator? I flew down and did as he said, even letting Marina go.

"Erm… I don't wanna be rude, but I'm not a hostage. Mary's a friend of mine. We're just trying to-" Marina approached the human, he held his hand up.

"It's okay, get behind the car and wait until I give the all clear." He put the translator to his side but was still able to speak to Marina in our language. Marina pointed to the creature.

"This thing? Um… Okay…" Marina walked over to the back of the creature as the man approached me.

"Okay, good, we're cooperating. I just wanna ask you some questions. That's all." The man said. I saw him reach for something at the side of his belt. The headache came back, though it came with my heart beginning to beat rapidly. Instantly, my helmet came back as the man pulled out a tiny black crossbow-like object and fired. The bolt bounced off my armor. He looked at his crossbow, then to me. He dove right for the creature and reached inside. He pulled out what might be an organ from inside the creature and spoke into it.

"Attention all units, attention all units! We have a hostile located off Route 66!" He held his weapon at me, though his hand trembled.

"We're not hostile! We're just lost and looking for directions!" Marina said. The man just looked to her and spoke into the organ.

"Hostage may possibly be a schizo, I'll bring her in for questioning." A what? Is that their term for fairies? I saw the man approach Marina and I instantly ran for him.

"STOP!" I shouted. He turned around and fired a few more bolts at me. None of them managed to hit me, though I could still the kinetic force of it impacting my armor. If I couldn't do anything about it, chances are the next bolt or two may crush my ribs. That's when I heard a familiar roar and an equally familiar thud.

I turned to see Toros as he walked across the two roads. I saw one of the large creatures run to him as he got onto the second road. It gave out a loud screeching sound as its legs grinded to a halt, only for Toros to shoulder check the head. The creature's face crumpled in and its body jumped a bit into the air before it fell. Toros brushed his shoulder off and walked to the man as he pointed his crossbow at him.

"FREEZE! Don't move, o-or I'll shoot!" Toros just cocked his head as I heard audible pops from his spine.

"So, you traded your bows in for tinier sticks? I hope they're not as annoying as-" The man fired and let out a huge blam that caused Marina to shriek and hide behind his creature. The bolt hit Toros square in the chest. He staggered a bit and looked as the bolt had pierced his flesh, but clearly stopped and flattened after that layer. "I stand corrected. They're more annoying than arrows." Toros hoisted his axe as the man just screamed and ran for the creature, hiding inside it as it sprung to life, eyes lit up and its horn flashing the blue and red lights. The creature ran off as Marina flew out of the way. I turned to face Toros who came up to me.

"Thanks, I owe you one." I said as the helmet came off.

"This land is dangerous. Even when I first traveled here centuries ago, they had more magic than any of us can muster." Toros said.

"They being humans, right? Like me?" I asked.

"Exactly. It is that what makes your kind so desirable to the fairies. However," he looked at the corpse of the creature he killed, followed by a few creatures that had died crashing into it, "the thing is that this realm is the magic, not your kind in general." I then heard the roaring of more creatures, the kind that the man with the crossbow rode on. "We better hurry." Marina and I nodded as we flew off and carried Toros away from the area.

----

We carried him as far from the area as we could, though Marina panted heavily and even I felt my arms getting weak. We let him down onto the grass by a white wooden fence and caught our breath. It was at this point where my green armor fell off as well, leaving me back to my regular clothes.

"You may have a lot of questions for me, but sad to say that I can't answer them all. However, I can explain what had happened. That egg you entered was known as a Chrysalis of Capgrass. There was a time where Marchenwald was involved in a great war. In that war, dozens of Chrysalises were made with the purpose of converting young humans like you," he pointed to me, "into armored soldiers called Drakes. From there, an enchantment would activate, dropping the Drake into this realm and having them wreak havoc. However, when the wars ended, most of the Chrysalises were discarded along with the Capgrass trees they grew in if they weren't already used… Except for one. The one you used up."

"So why didn't you break that egg then if they were so dangerous?" I asked.

"You ask me to destroy nature herself?!" He raised his voice, though not in his signature volume. "No. I wished to protect the last Capgrass tree. That is why I guarded it. And now, I have resigned to my new fate…"

"What do you mean?" Marina held her hand up close to her face.

"It means that the Chrysalis was a one-way ticket… Unless we can find a means to go back, we're stuck here." With that, Marina sank to her knees.

"N-no…" She murmured.

"There has to be a way back, right?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Not that I know of. However, the humans' magic has grown exponentially since I was last here. That said, what they can and can't achieve is a mystery right now. Best we can do now is lay low while I find out more info." As Toros walked away, I raised an eyebrow.

"Um… Looking like the beefcake you are, I doubt you'd-", he snapped his fingers as his fur receded into his flesh. His skin turned to a lightish brown. When he turned around, I saw his bull features were gone, and in trade had a human face. "Fit in…" I shut my mouth as Toros chuckled.

"A simple illusion. I best be off now." Toros then left. I turned to see Marina as she buried her face into her knees.

"I'm so stupid… I shouldn't have brought us to that dumb tree…" She cried. I knelt on one knee and patted Marina on the back.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay. We'll be back in Marchewald before you know it." I said. Marina grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"And… There's what he said about daddy… W-would he really wanted to have turned you into… into…" She couldn't finish before letting out a sob. Truth be told, I had no idea what the King had in mind when I was made into Marina's bodyguard. I doubted he had the idea of turning me into a Drake in mind given how that birthing chamber was the last chamber and was heavily guarded. I just stroked my hand against her wavy blue hair and kissed her on the forehead.

"I doubt it, Marina. We'll ask him all about this when we get back. I promise." I got up and looked around. It was night time. The stars were out, shining in the sky. It felt nostalgic. However, I observed the structures around me. Each structure was the same. A large square with a pyramid on top. They were like our houses back in Marchenland, right down to the door in front of the structure. I looked to Marina, who stopped crying and instead yawned. I knew we had to find a place to stay.

That's when I heard the door open.

"Um… Excuse me…" I turned to see a man dressed in what appeared to be a gray cotton suit that fitted his entire body save for his hands. He had messy black hair and bags underneath his eyes. "I-is there anything I can help you two with?" He asked. I marched to him as my eyes glared daggers at him.

"We need a place to stay, at least temporarily." I said.

"A-ah… W-well…" The man just chuckled and looked away. I heard Marina run up to me and pushed me out of the way.

"PLEASE! We're far from home and we have nowhere to go!" Marina burst into tears again. I saw the man blush. He thought for a moment before he looked to me and nodded.

"O-okay. You girls can stay." Marina hugged him.

"THANK YOU! M-may I have your name?" Marina asked.

"Robin… It's Robin. Yours?" He smiled.

"Marina, Prin-" I grabbed her mouth. The last thing we want is for people to be aware of Schizos in their area.

"Marina Primrose. I'm her friend. We managed to get ourselves lost and need to find a way back home." I said to him. He nodded instantly.

"Sure, okay. Erm… Make yourselves at home." He led us into his house.

----

The inside was vastly different to our house, and yet they were still similar. There were the familiar like a couch or the stairs, but then there were the new. A constant, never flickering light that had been fixed onto the ceiling. A strange, large screen fixed onto a wall in the room where the couch was. And the strangest of all…

I followed Marina into a room with a different kind of flooring in contrast to the wooden floor that was in the main hall. The floor was white, like marble, but the overall look and feel of it felt like an inferior quality, especially considering how they were cut up into squares and separating them was a grayish indentation. Marina saw a large, steel container with two doors, one large, the other small. There was a handle for each door. She tugged onto the small handle, but the door wouldn't budge.

"Here, let me help you with that…" Robin walked over to her and pulled on the door. It popped open as a gust of cold air rushed out of the compartment. Inside was a miniature world made of ice. Inside, there were a few foods inside, frozen by the temperature of the frozen world.

"Woooah, cool!" Marina put her head inside, though I pulled her out and closed the door.

"We'll check out the area tomorrow. Right now, we need our rest." I turned to Robin.

"The guest bedroom is upstairs, to the right. Erm… It's a queen-sized." He told me a few moments after we got accustomed to the place.

"But I'm not a queen!" Marina looked to him.

"N-no… It's the kind of size. I… mean to say that… the two of you have to share." Robin blushed again. S-share!? Marina beamed and squealed. She picked me up and rushed upstairs all while squeaking out many thank yous to Robin.

As soon as we entered the guest bedroom, which looked as though it hadn't been touched in what seemed to be decades, she tossed me right onto the bed before she jumped on herself.

"This more than makes up for everything that's happened!" She stretched all her limbs to feel the soft cover of the bed, all while I was within her arms reach.

"Don't get too comfortable," I firmed up, "we're only here temporarily until Toros can find a way back. After all, I came from this realm. There has to be other ways to reach Marchenwald."

"Yeah… I guess so." Marina stared up at the ceiling.

"Though, I want to ask one thing of you…" I turned to face Marina. "Don't, under any circumstances, reveal who we truly are." She tossed and looked at me.

"I… don't see why." She said.

"We almost got ourselves killed tonight. It's best if we kept a low profile. Alright?"

"… Alright." Marina smiled. "You know what the best part about tonight is?"

"Wha-" Marina grabbed me, her legs locked onto mine as her head nuzzled into my shoulder.

"Sleeping in your arms." She said. After that, she began to snore. I shook her, though she wouldn't budge. I had to face the fact that I was locked in a grip… A nice grip… The scent of an ocean was captured in her azure locks, with her warmth becoming the only blanket I needed. I wrapped my arms around Marina and smiled.

"Goodnight, Marina…" I kissed her on the forehead and fell asleep.
 
Babysitting Rulers in a Bar
[ ] Babysitting Rulers in a Bar

Babysitting Rulers in a Bar

"I need a break dad!" Jenna said as she stormed out of the bar.

"Jenna Wolfe, you get back in here" she didn't hear the rest as a painful jolt coursed through her body and she collapsed onto the ground.






"Hahaha!" Jenna heard someone laughing as she woke up, an unfamiliar voice, "You're awake, who would think the dread Bar Mistress would collapse from a single bolt of lightning. At least you're back on your feet and it hasn't been long, world's almost blown up and you're one of the few things stopping it after all."

Jenna looked over at the source of the voice; a large hulking man, but the thing that drew her eyes were the large teeth in his mouth, almost like tusks. Despite that he was dressed in a dress shirt and suspenders. The formal clothes contrasting his large stature.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she asked, scared of this strange man.

The man rubbed the back of his head as his lips pursed. "Did that bolt jostle your memories a bit? Ah geez, that's bad. Do you remember how to bartend?"

"Of course I do, but why?"

"Look, I'll explain later, but I'm your friend and I have been for a long time now, and the world needs you to get back to work before one of the few pillars keeping it from devolving into chaos collapses."

"Where's...where's my dad?"

"Your dad? How should I know? You've never talked about family. That bolt really messed you up, didn't it. Did all your memories get replaced or something?"

Jenna opened her mouth to retort, but someone wearing a doctor's uniform came in.

"Doc, can she go back to work yet?"

"Her reading are all clear, she should be fine."

"Great!" the apparent friend said as he hefted the confused bartender up and carried her out, the shock of what was happening keeping her silent. While she was being carried Jenna had to wonder, had all her memories of her family been the result of freak lightning? Memories were fickle, and they make up most of someone's history and character but they change over time, and maybe in response to lightning sometimes too. Well...that possible truth slightly depressed her.

The world around was very different to what she was used too, the buildings were all incredibly ornate and unique and the few vehicles she saw zooming around the streets were something of a cross between motorcycles and cars, only they didn't use wheels, they flew. She didn't really have time to contemplate just how amazing that way because she remember she knew almost nothing about the world around her.

"So, is there stuff I should know?"

"Lots, and probably more. But I don't have time to give you a history lesson. The gist of it is that all the major countries in the world currently hate each other, and the only reason no one has tried to take out anyone else is because all the other countries are also ready to attack. But they've been rumors of people going behind each others backs to get informal treaties, it's only a matter of time. The other reason is people like you, who are really powerful but are keeping war at bay by threatening whoever attacks first."

"Powerful?"

He stopped in his tracks as soon as the word left Jenna's lips and put her down. "Please tell me you're joking and you remember how to use your magic."

Jenna looked down and backed away a bit. He pulled her down a street where there were less people.

"No, no, no, no, no, no! You were one of the major players! If they figure out you're out of the picture we're doomed!" he muttered as he lead her oneward. Then Jenna walked into his back as he suddenly stopped in front of a lone bar with no other buildings anywhere nearby.

"Okay look," he began while turning to face her, "I know you forgot everything, but you need to pretend to be...yourself, from before you lost your memories. All you need to do it give people drinks and tell them not to argue in your bar or you'll get mad. Please."

"U-um...I don't have anywhere else to go I guess…" she replied meekly.

"No, that won't do at all! You can't act like that, people will know instantly!"

She'd need to act, and act like someone completely different from herself, for who knows how long too. She cleared her throat.

"Get out of my way and let me do my job before I move you myself, fool!"

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am. Wait, you're faking it, aren't you?"

"Yup, now move, I have a job to do."

Stepping inside th- her bar was surreal. It looked just like dad's, except more old fashioned, but the layout was exactly alike. Someone brushed past, her new/old friend, he slipped something into her vest's pocket. Wait, she'd been kept in the hospital in her work clothes? Whatever, in her pocket was a set of notes for drinks. Hey, some of these compositions were just like the ones her 'dad' taught her, just with different names.

Her friend meanwhile, retreated down a hallway into some kind of storage room, he probably wouldn't be much more useful now. She was on her own.

It also seemed the bar was currently empty...well, that makes sense considering she'd been out of commision for a while. She got behind the counter and starts to familiarise herself with the location of the various liquids along with the combinations and their names, it seemed like most of the alcohol used for mixing actually shared names with the ones she was used to. What she'd always considered a talent for memorising these things was coming in very handy now.

As she was finishing up the inventory a sudden fanfare at her door. The shock made her jump and drop a bottle, which thankfully didn't shatter.

"His Royal Majesty King Edmund the Fifth of Xanyth enters!" came a voice as a luxurious red carpet unfurled. Fighting every instinct in her body that was yelling to run and hide, she instead managed to stay where she was and give a deadpan stare to the man dressed head to toe in shining rubies. Well, it was less managing to stay calm and more her body freezing up, but nobody could tell the difference, so why clarify?

The king's confident swagger stopped as soon as he saw the sour expressing on Jenna's face. "A-ah, Barmistress, I know you've said not to do that any more, b-but I was simply overjoyed by your return that I had to express it."

"Edmund, I was struck by lightning and just got back from being treated right now, the only thing your expressing has done is give me a headache. Sit down and order something."

Jenna was honestly amazed by the fact she had managed to say that to a bonafide king without so much as stuttering, the fact he was terrified of her probably helped, but still! As the red king hesitantly made his way over to a table, a smaller man dressed in blue entered as well. Unlike Edmund this man was dressed much less gaudily, but still in a fashion that denoted him as a ruler, his appearance made him look somewhat mouselike though.

"I see Edmund has made his typical cacophonous entry. I'm pleased to see you've recovered so quickly Barmistress," said the blue ruler while taking a seat at the bar, when he sat Jenna saw that his appearance wasn't just a feeling, he had an actual mouse's tail!

"Don't be such a suck-up Theodore!" called Edmund.

"So, what can I get for you Theodore?" Jenna asked loudly.

"Oh, a Willow Twister would be lovely."

"Why don't I get a drink?!" Edmund continued yelling.

"You annoyed me so you're going to sit there while I make drinks for people who haven't first."

He quietened down after that. Checking her list it turned out a Willow Twister was just a Mimosa, easy to make, but it kinda suited the guy from a first glance, simple and classy. Edmund would probably get the equivalent of a long island iced tea and try to down it all at once. As soon as Jenna had grabbed the two bottles to make the Mimos- Willow Twister and begun to mix the liquids, another two people walked in, a man and a woman.

The man wearing a fancy black suit with a shiny red shirt underneath. It fit wonderfully with the woman's simple yet elegant white dress.

"Barmistress, happy to see you in good health," the man greeted.

"You too Stanley? Trying to get on her good side? Are you going to join in Stella?" Edmund piped up once more. As annoying as he was, he's was proving very helpful by yelling out every person's name. As soon as Theodore's drink was done Stanley and Stella sat down as well, ignoring Edmund.

"A pair of Tursks if you would Barmistress," comes the request from Stanley. Tursks, Tursks, aha! Those were just Sidecars, a fancy drink for the refined sort. Did her memories just change the names of all the drinks on here? Either way, the pair was soon sipping on their suave, lemony cocktails in pleasure. With no one else having entered, it was time for Edmund to get his drink.

"A shot of whiskey! No, three!" came an unsurprising request. The drink was poured into the tiny glasses and carried over. Predictably, as soon as they're put down he tries to drink them as fast as possible.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, it turned out Edmund was worse when drunk, and completely unable to hold his liquor.

"Hey Theodore!" he slurred, "Yer country's stinkin' with cowards and spies!"

"Unlike yourself I see the value of gathering information when preparing for conflict," came the cool reply.

"Ha!" Edmund barked out a laugh, "that's just 'cause yer army's too weak to fight people the right way!"

"And what, pray tell, is the right way King Edmund?" asked Stanley.

"Ya take yer army, and you march it on the other guy's army. Simple! Oh wait, yer tiny republic doesn't have an army."

A tremor passed through Stanley at that remark. Jenna was wondering how the actual Barmistress would handle this. How does this world work when its leaders start squabbling like children after a few drinks?! Well, that's why it's on the brink of war…

"Whilst the republic we are representing is small, I can assure you we would be more than able to match your barbarous nation should you turn to conflict," Stanley replied hotly.

"Our technology more than makes up for the difference in numbers," Stella agrees.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the fighting is interrupted by a plump irritable looking man wearing an elaborate yellow hood walking in. Everyone went silent and he didn't speak to anyone. He just sat at the bar and demanded a drink.

"Flaming Blitz, yesterday."

Flaming Blitz, Flaming Blitz... it wasn't on the list! How could she make a drink she didn't know the ingredients for? Everyone's just staring at her right now too, she wants to melt into a puddle. But she can't, she need to figure out what this Flaming Blitz is. Hold on, some drinks just say flaming to say they should be set on fire before being served. Checking her notes again, yes! A Blitz exists! And it's a Backdraft...yay. Apparently you can order them to be pre-put out here.

The new arrival sat at the other end of the bar, time for some performance. Sliding a fancy looking snifter glass across the table, Jenna pulled out the two liquors necessary for a Backdraft, running after the drink as it was sliding to the yellow man. As soon as it'd been poured she took out a match and set it alight as it slid into place in front of her customer. That actually worked! That was the first time she'd done something like that successfully! She'd gotten close before, but that was flawless!

The man whispered a word and a glowing hand appears over the drink, snuffing out the first as it burned away its oxygen.

Theodore broke the silence, "Using the powers of a Grandmagus to snuff out a flame, isn't that beneath you Archibald?"

"Quiet, my day was filled with many nuscenses, I want peace and quiet while I forget about it all."

"And you think our lives aren't filled with trouble?" Stella asked.

"You have an entire council to work with, I alone have to resolve the problems of my nation."

"You think it's any easier to give solutions when you have five different suggestions for how to handle them and they all get the same number of votes?" Stanley retorted.

"Don't you just use magic to fix everything anyway? The rest of us don't have that luxury," Theodore continued.

Archibald downed his drink in a single gulp before responding, "Do you really want to argue with an angry and drunk magus?"

"You threatening us?" yelled Edmund. He'd almost been forgotten with how quiet he was all of a sudden, "You don't want to fight me."

"Please, we all know you and your backwards kingdom is terrified of magic," counters the magus.

"My warriors are fearless! They'll cut down any nation that opposes them!"

"Bah, they'd be blasted to pieces before they were anywhere near my mages."

"Left confused by my tactics," Theodore adds.

"And unable to get past our technology," Stanley and Stella finish the counterargument in sync.

Edmund's face flushed in anger, "More shots of whiskey!"

"I think you've had enough alcohol," said Theodore.

"You insult me! To think a mere three shots of whiskey would be too much for a man of Xanyth? Preposterous!"

Well, it had been long enough for Jenna to start to get these people, as bartenders tend to do. Edmund was a proud ruler of a large nation but rejected technology and magic to rely on strength. Theodore was ruler of a likely weak nation who relied on trickery and tactical superiority to win. Stanley and Stella were members of a group of leaders for a more technological nation that lacked numbers. And Archibald was a powerful mage who became a leader because of that but was unsuited to it, his army of mages making up for that. Of them, Edmund seemed most likely to start a war, and Theodore was most likely to be one of the ones making alliances in the shadows. Though it wasn't like these four nations are the only ones.

"Hey, remember where you're drinking!" Jenna yelled.

"You know," Archibald began, "you've been acting strangely Barmistress. I'd chalk it up to the lightning strike, but I just scanned you and none of your normal impressive supply of magic is visible.

"I've found a way to hide it."

"Prove it."

"Archibald, this is a dangerous game, maybe you shouldn't bluff while drunk," Stanley cautioned.

"I'm not bluffing. I suspect this is an impostor. Have any of your drinks tasted like they normally do?"

"That's..." began Stanley.

"...true," finished Stella as the two stood up.

"In all my years of coming here, nothing has ever made my Flaming Blitz taste different. Until that lightning bolt."

"My whiskey tasted the same," Edmund pointed out.

"That's because it's whiskey, there's nothing for her to do to it you fool," Theodore hotly countered. "And she's been looking at notes before making our drinks too, don't think I didn't notice that."

"You dare insult me?!" he roared in response.

"Sit down. We have bigger things to deal with," Theodore yelled back before turning to Jenna, "Well? Who are you really?"

"I'm getting annoyed at your accusations. If you want to lose your war before it even starts keep going," she replied. This was bad, it didn't seem like they were buying it, but what else could she do?

"I'm willing to take that chance," Archibald declared as he sent a bolt of magic towards Jenna. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself, but it was of no use, the instant the bolt hit she collapsed again.

"See? If she was really the Barmistress she wouldn't have collapsed"






"Jenna? Jenna? Honey? You're awake!"

Jenna looked over to see her father's face, tears streaming down it. Had that whole thing been some kind of coma-dream? Guh, she'd questioned reality too much already in the past hour or two.

"Dad? What happened?"

"You stepped outside, then you collapsed. I rushed out in worry but then you got up. But you weren't acting like yourself, you were demanding to be called 'barmistress'. You ended up sticking a fork in the power socket and electrocuting yourself, that's why you're here."

Wait, so all that had been real! That was the secret to memories! Other people, other things that proved they had happened.

"Um, I guess I must have had my brain jostled when I fell or something."

"I'm just so happy my little girl is alright, I don't care what you want me to call you as long as you never do something that dangerous again," he declares, hugging her and getting the shoulder of her gown wet with tears.

"Don't worry dad, I'll stay safe," she said, hugging him back.

Whether this was reality or not didn't matter. This was her dad. He was real to her.
 
Ushinawareta Shoujo Sophia
[ ] Ushinawareta Shoujo Sophia

Chapter 1

Late one Wednesday afternoon, the door to Flood of Wonder Books & Fantasy opened with a chime. Brett looked up from the sales counter, cluttered with everything from paperback books and dice to Excalibur letter-openers and cheap Steven Universe key chains, as his friend Sophia came into the shop. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, and she was wearing a pants-suit with a blue tie.

"Hey, Brett. Any new books come in?"

"Just a couple light novels and a Hunger Games wannabe," Brett replied. Sophia had started moving towards what he called "the otaku corner" before he finished his sentence. "Oh, and someone sold their Sengoku Night Blood manga if you're interested."

"Isn't that another Sword Art knockoff?"

"Not really. I mean, it's isekai, but it's better than most."

"So was SAO," Sophia pointed out, flipping through one of the new novels. "But even if Night Blood's a good isekai, and I'm not saying it's not, I'm kinda tired of them."

"Fair." Brett leaned back, watching people pass by outside for a minute. "So. What's with the suit? Did you get another interview?"

"Yes, finally."

"How'd it go?"

"Pretty well, I think." Sophia sighed and put the book back, grabbing another. "Of course, so did the last few."

"Yeah...but you've still got that volunteer thing, right? Houses for Humanity or whatever?"

"I guess. It's better than nothing, but I wish I was doing something related to history. Or something useful, at least."

"Kinsey's still not trusting you with much of anything?"

"Yeah. I mean, I get why, but it's annoying to just fetch crap and run errands."

"The two-by-four incident was months ago. Is that not enough to earn a second chance?"

Sophia opened the book. "Guess not."

Another customer came in while Sophia was examining the second book, and she had moved onto a third before Brett finished helping him.

"It's kinda frustrating," Sophia grumbled.

"What is? Kinsey?"

"No, the job stuff. I keep trying and trying, and nothing keeps happening. I feel like I'm in the same place now that I was when I graduated. I want to be...somewhere else, you know?"

"Where?"

"I'm not sure. Somewhere closer to..." Sophia shrugged.

"You don't know where?"

"Out of my dad's basement and into my own apartment would be a good first step. But past that...I dunno."

"What's your next step?"

"Keep getting interviews, hope one of them sticks?" Sophia sighed. "If I just knew where to go next, what my next goal was, I feel like I'd have a better idea of what to do. I could figure out what I need to get there and how to get those bits, one by one. But I don't." She closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

"You need a destination before you can get directions?"

Sophia began taking books out and putting them elsewhere on the shelf. "Yeah, pretty much. I kinda know what I want, but it's all about the details, and I didn't realize I needed to figure those out until it was too late. I thought I could just get some crappy job or internship or something and work out what fit me and what didn't, but even the crappy jobs and internships have tons of competition from other people who are trying to do the same thing. And the people getting those jobs are the ones who already figured out the details, who have the passion and—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but what are you doing with those books?"

"Huh? Oh, it looked like other customers had put some of these books in the wrong places, so I'm trying to fix it. Why?"

"Um, how are you organizing them?"

"...Alphabetical by author, why? Is that—"

"Don't worry, I'll fix it later."

"Oh! Sorry, it's just that the shelves looked almost in alphabetical order, and—"

"It's no big deal. You and my manager are the only ones who care."

"How should I—"

"Don't worry. Seriously. Just...find something you're actually interested in, alright?"

"Um, okay." Sophia looked around.

"But I get what you're saying. About job stuff, I mean. You've got this script for how things are supposed to go. Graduate high school, get a degree, get a crappy job, eventually get the job you want if you work hard. Some people tell you to figure out where you want to go, and some people tell you don't worry, you'll end up somewhere you never expected. But here we are."

Sophia picked up a book. "They got one thing right. We definitely didn't expect to end up here."

"Yeah. But we were supposed to have some idea of what came next. You've finished college, time for your entry-level crap. But it's not like that. You get a minimum-wage job because you've got a family friend who needs a warm body, or..."

"Nothing."

More time passed as Sophia looked at a couple more books. After putting the last back on the shelf, she turned to Bret. "Are you doing anything on Saturday?"

"No, why?"

"There's an Amtgard newbie thing this weekend."

"That's the LARPing thing you do?"

"It's LARPing the same way World of Warcraft is a roleplaying game. You can get into character as a knight or wizard or whatever, but most people just hit each other with foam swords. Lots of fun."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about it. I'm glad you're enjoying it, but I don't think I would."

"It's nerdy exercise," Sophia pointed out as she put the third book back. "What's not to enjoy?"

"Getting hit with swords?"

"Foam swords. It wouldn't be much fun if they were real."

Brett sighed. "I guess I'll think about it."

"Alright, I'll take that. Hope to see you there." She headed for the door.

"I'm obligated to ask if you're going to buy anything."

"Still unemployed, sadly. Besides, all the books here are either ones I already own or crap."

"I'm underemployed, and the store's not doing great financially. Besides, we sell more than books. We've got some miniatures and figurines over there, a couple board games by the D&D stuff, these nice letter openers...lots of stuff."

"Nice sales pitch."

"You're one to talk."

"Fair. Still, why should I buy any of this?"

"You've been reading our books for months."

"I buy some of them!"

"Some, yeah. But don't you want to support your local business so you can keep reading those books?"

Sophia shrugged. "I'll take a look, I guess." She glanced at some of the figurines before moving on to the various knickknacks on the counter. She picked up a fluid-filled stress ball made to look like an octopus and a belt buckle with two eyes and seven stars on it. "What are these?"

"I think this is just a cute stress toy thing. And this is the holy symbol of some D&D moon god, I think? Which someone made into a belt buckle? It's just stuff the manager had and wanted to sell, I guess."

"Because they're just kitsch."

"Yeah, but they're charming kitsch, aren't they?"

"I suppose. Not something I'd pay ten or fifteen bucks for."

"You're not the only person who said that. A couple of weeks ago, some kid was playing with the octopus while his dad browsed for some gift or something. The kid wanted to buy it, but he changed his mind once he heard it was ten bucks."

"How does your manager pick his prices?"

"Hell if I know...you know what, I'll make you a deal. Twenty bucks for both of those."

"Buying two kitschy things for the price of slightly less than two?"

"Hey, take it or leave it."

"...How about this. I'll give you your sale, and you come to Amtgard."

"Deal." They shook hands, and Sophia dug a twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet. Bret tossed the stress octopus and belt buckle into a plastic bag, before taking the money. "Have a nice day."

"You too. See you Saturday."

"I'll try to look forward to it."

"Don't worry. If you've got knee-pads or anything, you might want to bring them. Save us the trouble of fitting them to you."

"Sure."



Sophia left the store and glanced around. The street and sidewalk were not completely empty, but not many people were around. A few were window-shopping, and an occasional car drove through the area on some errand or another. Sophia had parked in a lot a couple of blocks down, and crossed the street after letting a car pass. She was still watching it when she heard a car horn blare.

Things seemed to slow down. A car, probably going close to twice the speed limit, had swerved around the corner and was coming straight for Sophia. She turned, throwing the arm she carried her purchases in towards the car, as if the plastic bag could shield her. But Sophia and the driver had noticed each other too late. Sophia felt the bumper hit her leg, throw her forward off her feet…

...and she hit a brick wall.



Sophia landed on the ground and just lay there for a moment, staring at the cobblestones beneath her. She had almost been hit by a car—she had been hit by a car—and needed to catch her breath. But after the moment passed, she realized a number of things were wrong.

Where had the wall come from? Where had the car gone? Why didn't she have any broken bones or anything, just a sore spot on her shoulder where she hit the wall? What were cobblestones doing? And why had it gotten sunnier all of a sudden?

Sophia stood, brushing herself off. She had been in a city made not of one- or two-story buildings with concrete sidewalks and asphalt roads separating them, in the middle of a street. Now she was in an alley, surrounded by three- or four-story buildings crammed together, separated by narrow cobblestone roads and alleys. No air conditioning units hummed and no automobiles growled; instead, hooves clattered noisily on rock, echoing down corridors of brick and plaster.

The sun was now high in the sky. It was like Sophia had gone back a few hours...and several centuries.

Okay. I'm stuck in a strange city, where I might or might not speak the language of anyone here and definitely don't know my way around. Even if they speak modern English somehow, I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb. At best, I'll be mistaken for some foreign aristocrat and targeted by every mugger within a mile. At worst, they'll think I'm a witch or a demon or something.

But on the bright side, I'm not roadkill. I might have come out of this ahead.


Sophia took off her suit jacket and tie, stuffing them in the plastic bag with her new belt buckle and weird octopus-thing. Now I should look slightly less posh...and it's pretty warm out, so that would probably be a problem eventually. Now what?

Priority one, figure out what kind of place this is. Priority two, figure out what the hell I can do here. Priority zero, don't be a sitting duck for muggers.


Sophia strode out into the street, trying to ignore the weird looks everyone gave her. Then she realized the looks were brief and only moderately interested. What, do 21st-century job-seekers pop in regularly? I would have thought something this weird would warrant more… Sophia's thoughts were interrupted by a carriage crossing a nearby intersection. Her first reaction was to step back, even though it was fifteen feet away. Her second was Hold on, does that carriage have a lit interior?

Following the sunniest, least empty streets, Sophia made her way to what seemed like a market. Along the way, she saw numerous odd sights. Many buildings, carriages, and so on had those weird artificial lights, almost like big LED's without the plastic shell. While most people looked more or less white, with hair various shades of brown or black, some had odd hair colors or caricatured features. And where some cities had stray cats, this city had weird lizard-rat things fighting over scraps. In case all of this wasn't enough, at one point Sophia saw someone magically pulling water out of a weird barrel on their back and using it to wash trash through a ditch.

I'm not in the past. I'm in another world. A fantasy world, to be specific.

Sophia looked around the marketplace, watching people buy and sell everything from fruit to bread to weird fantasy-looking plants while a street performer mixed magical and acrobatic ability. If I know my fantasy, and I'm pretty sure I do, there's probably some kind of evil overlord or demon king or something. Where there's a villain, there's a hero. If I'm not the hero, he'll probably be some distinctive-looking guy with a cool sword. If I am the hero, I'll probably have a supporting cast...at least someone to fill me in on why I'm the Chosen One or something. So I'm probably looking for a distinctive-looking young man with funny-colored hair and a sword, or an old guy that's been watching me ever since I showed up but hiding.

After fifteen minutes by Sophia's watch, spent trying to look interested in the merchants' wares and not at all suspicious, she saw what she was looking for. A boy with spiky red hair and a fancy-looking sword hilt sticking up over his shoulder, probably in his late teens. Sophia quietly kept her eye on him as he bought lunch and began to follow as he left the market. She kept far behind him, at least a block, and tried to focus on keeping the protagonist-looking boy in sight. This took her from the clean, crowded part of town into one with smaller, dingier buildings somehow pressed even closer together. Where is he going? Is he meeting a resistance movement, or going to meet a mentor, or...anything that makes me more comfortable being around here?



The protagonistey boy ducked down an alley. This is it, she thought as she hurried forward. This kind of alley is where I'd expect a hero to meet with some kind of shady contact, or a secret entrance to some secret base. She reached the alley and glanced down it. It looked empty, aside from the protagonistey boy and a lizard-rat. Or where the hero saves some girl from an implied rape, I guess. But there's no...shit.

"Why have you been following me?" the boy asked, his hand disconcertingly near his sword.

"Uh—huh?" Wow, great first words.

"You've been following me since we passed that blacksmith. Why?"

"Because you—" Because you look like a hero? Who says things like that? Because... Sophia stepped into the alley. "Because you're going to be attacked here." By some generic mooks who the hero can use to show off his heroic spirit and raw strength.

"What are you talking about?"

As the boy was talking, the wall behind him split open silently into a door, and two suspiciously generic-looking guys in generically suspicious-looking black cloaks stepped out. "And who told you that?" one of them asked.

The protagonistey boy spun around, drawing his sword. It was an oversized sword, almost like a Buster Lite. Sophia thought she saw something engraved on the blade, but it began glowing like the sun before she could make out any details. "And who are you people?"

"We'll be asking the questions here," a voice behind Sophia said. She spun around, fumbling out her pocket knife as she saw two more generic cloaked guys who had stepped out of the wall behind her. "Questions like how much you value your lives...and what you have to pay for them."

"Lady!" the boy shouted. "Duck down, now!"

Sophia did as she was told, throwing her bag and knife in opposite directions as she did so. A moment later, a blast of wind hit the alley at about chest height, throwing the goons Sophia saw into the street and presumably doing much the same to the ones by the boy. Sophia quickly grabbed the knife, almost cutting herself on the blade in her panicked haste.

The street gaped open, and a single stone pillar emerged. On top of it was a less-generic guy with long white hair and an eye-patch, holding a cane-sized staff against the pillar. "Interesting...very interesting. That sword you have there must be worth a small fortune. And if the girl's outfit is anything to go by, she's quite wealthy as well. I think we'll be taking both off of you...along with anything else of value you have, of course."

"Never!" shouted the protagonistey boy. He swung his sword again, hurling a burst of wind.

Weird how he's using air, Sophia thought. His character design practically screams "fire magic". I'd expect green hair for a wind-mage-knight...person.

The obvious bad guy twisted his staff, causing a wall of earth to raise itself out of the ground, blocking the burst. "Your sword may give you great control over the wind, but between my humble staff and my years of experience, I can counter anything you can do." He then raised a hand, causing the sword to rise up into the air. "Particularly if I rob you of the source of your power."

He then turned to Sophia. "And you? What are you going to do?"

If I try to do anything, Sophia thought, he'll probably hit me with a rock or drop me into the sewers. And if he didn't, that gash around him is too long. I can't reach him with my pocket knife, and if I tried to throw it at him it would just fall into the sewer. I have a wallet, a cell phone, a battery pack, and the crap I just bought. I have nothing useful outside an adventure game. Sophia glanced around the area for anything she could use her random possessions on as the terrakinetic watched. He smiled. "Good girl. I'll have my men be gentle with you."

And there it is. I hope that kid's actually the hero.

On the other side of the wall, a thump indicated that the protagonistey boy finally dropped his sword and landed on the ground. "You're right," he said. "Without that sword, I'm not much good at wind magic. But I was never that good with the wind."

Fire?

The obvious bad guy turned around and gaped as he saw...judging by the bright orange glow, something fiery.

"Dragon's Rush!" he shouted, shooting at the bad guy. The bad guy cried out in fear before being whalloped by a burst of fire which contained the protagonistey boy, being knocked over the nearby rooftops and presumably into a sky-twinkle. As Sophia got up, her focus was on the generic bad guys who were still in her zip code. Not that this world probably has zip codes… But the mooks were gaping in awe at their leader flying off into the distance. As the alley and nearby buildings returned to their initial state, they ran off.

Sophia dusted herself off before collecting her possessions and looking around for the staff. Unfortunately, the semi-generic bad guy seemed to have pretty good grip strength. Meanwhile, the protagonistey boy grabbed his sword and turned to Sophia. "Thanks for the warning."

"Um...oh, you're welcome."

"Are you okay?"

"Um, I think so." Sophia walked over to the boy and held out her hand. "Sophia. My name it Sophia. It's nice to meet you."

The boy stared at Sophia for a moment, before shaking her hand. "My name is Shou." He let go. "But I'm guessing you already know who I am."

"More or less. Though I'm a bit short on the details."

"...I—"

"I mean, I don't know many of the details. I'm guessing you're planning to..." Sophia glanced around as if to check for listeners, giving herself an excuse for talking in vague terms, before lowering her voice. "...the overlord?"

"You mean Emperor Ketesu?"

"Yeah, him."

Shou glanced around as well. "Since you seem to be on my side...it's probably safe to tell you that he's my half-uncle—"

"And you're the prince who should rightfully hold the throne," Sophia continued, "so you plan to put an end to Kotatsu's evil and bring peace to the land and stuff."

Shou stared at Sophia for a moment, glancing at her hair-bun, blouse, and shoes before back at her face. "You're strange, lady. But you seem to know some useful stuff, so..."

"We have a lot to talk about."

-----

Chapter 2

"This Imperial Library place...you're sure it's safe?"

Shou smiled. "Of course it is! My grandma set up a bunch of these and gave them to a bunch of wizard guilds and stuff. They're not actually run by the Empire."

"Maybe don't talk about being related to royalty in public places?"

Shou looked up and down the line of stone shelves, covered with books. "...There's hardly anyone here."

"And that means that sound is going to travel pretty far. Besides, it's best not to let yourself develop sloppy habits."

"I guess. But, um...what are we here to talk about, anyways?"

"Our plans for the future, of course. I know that you're a prince, planning to take your place on the throne. How? Are you going to claim some MacGuffin, discover the secret of Kotetsu's power, unite the Empire's enemies?"

"...What's a muguffen?"

"A magic item or something that gives you a bunch of power."

"Um, something like that." Shou drew his sword and leaned it on a bookshelf. She could make out the carvings on the white-and-gray blade, which looked like outlines from a stained glass window. "This is the Sword of the Sun, forged from the Sunrise Sword and—"

"—and let me guess, there are a bunch of other powerful magic weapons you need to unite?"

Shou stared at her. "Um, kinda?" He pointed to the image nearest the hilt. "When the King of the East and the Queen of the West—my grandparents—married, they united their kingdoms and their royal regalia."

"The Sunrise and, I'm guessing, Sunset Swords were part of them? And I'm guessing we need to get a jewel and a mirror, too?"

"Um, the Jade Teardrop and the Mirror of Eight Faces? Yeah, those were part of the Eastern Regalia, and the Golden Lance and Crown of Foresight were part of the Western Regalia. That's five powerful magical artifacts. Emperor Ketesu grabbed the Crown when he usurped the throne, but the rest of the Regalia were hidden by my surviving family members and their friends."

"And this is the kind of 'hidden' where even the people trying to protect the kingdoms don't know where they're hidden, because that would be too convenient?"

"Um...I guess?"

"More importantly, do you know where any of these Regalia are?"

Shou put his hand on his sword.

"Alright. So we need to figure out where each of these Regalia are, track each down, claim it for the glory of the True King, then have a big final showdown with the Emperor."

Shou glanced at the bookshelf behind him in concern. "...How do you intend to figure out where they are?"

"I'm not sure yet. Probably not by reading these books, though."

"Oh, thank the gods. What are we doing, then?"

Sophia paced down the hall. Shou quickly sheathed his sword and followed. We probably aren't going to be able to get much down without being introduced to the other main characters. The rest of the five-man band, or at least the power trio, would be a good place to start. "I don't suppose you know where any of your family or other allies would be? Ideally ones about your age and willing to go on quests with you?"

"What? Um, no."

"Right. If you knew that and hadn't already joined up with them, you wouldn't be adventuring alone." And then you couldn't be a badass hero instead of a pawn in someone's scheme.

"Um...right..."

"Are there any smaller-scale problems?"

"What?"

A side quest to get the main characters together, and establish the world. Maybe the Shou's-royal-heritage thing was supposed to be a secret for the first few episodes, though given how quickly he told me, that's not likely. Either way… "Something heroic to do. A sort of...entry-level hero stuff, killing monsters or fighting bandits or something. Something to help you find other altruistic questing sorts and, um...establish you as a heroic person. You know, so the common people will support you."

"Oh, that makes sense. Um, there've been some monster attacks lately. Which is weird, because the King of Monsters was—"

"Right, kill some monsters, figure out what's going wrong, and see how much of a party we've got assembled by then."

Shou sighed. "I mean, I don't have any better ideas, but...I kinda wish you'd let me finish more of my sentences."

"I can only abide so much backstory at once. You need to focus on the relevant stuff and keep things moving."
 
Love and Cats
Some late entries are coming in.

[ ] Love and Cats

"You know what Frank? I'm sick of this shit, and I'm sick of this goddamned world." A red-headed lance corporal said, as she pointed an unsteadily bobbing finger at the sergeant next to her. "I wanna go back home, and try and patch things up with Kristen. We've been on this side of the portal four months, and I swear everyone's gotten hitched but me." Hiccuping, she continued "Don't get me wrong, I love you guys, but when I see the girls Lieutenant Bear and that fucking retard ended up with, I just get so jealous."

"Jessica, why the fuck would you want to patch up your relationship with her?" the sergeant said in between sips of his own beer. "She's a fucking harpy, and she cheated on you how many times?"

"Three times... that I know of…" Jessica muttered.

"Then why not forget about her and try to play the field here?" the Sergeant said. "It's worked out for literally everyone else. Besides, it's a different world, and we're not even sure it's in our universe. What happens here stays here."

"I'm not going to waste my time chasing bartenders or fucking whores who aren't actually into me, Frank." Jessica shot back. "It's like every hot local chick is straight as an arrow and thirstier than Private Bevan."

"How is she doing anyway?" Frank replied, morbidly curious.

"She's bringing home enough dudes that when there's finally a herpes outbreak she'll probably be patient zero." Jessica continued as Frank's beer shot out his nose. "And she's loud enough I usually just give up and sleep in my office. Especially when I see that fucking cat dude loitering around."

"I don't know what to say then." Frank said. "You're pretty damn hot, there's got to be someone in town who might bite. Like one of the PHS nurses or something. Hell, you can probably hitch a ride with Vegas' lunatics or Lieutenant Bear when they go to the capital again."

"Fuck. Thanks for trying, but that's not exactly giving me hope." Jessica said as she downed her beer in a few gulps before motioning for another.

"Do you want me to like magic some girl out of thin air?" Frank said. "I'm in intel, not miracles."

"You say that like there's a difference."

"Don't you mean staffing? I mean, we somehow ended up with only one lieutenant that can't tie his shoelaces, and he's Civil Affairs for fuck's sake. When are we gonna need him here, ever?" Frank laughed weakly, pulling on his own drink.

"You'd rather have Captain Lee wouldn't you?" Jessica said as her drink arrived with the cute bartender who had somehow managed to get herself a crop top and booty shorts (probably from some american admirer,) instead of the wrap dress every other local woman wore.

"Fuck yes I would." Frank replied. "At least Captain Lee only crawls out of the bottle for meetings and wouldn't try to get involved in my job. The goddamned lieutenant just keeps fucking shit up, and I can't wait until we have a civilian city government so it isn't my goddamned problem anymore."

Jessica's phone went off. "Fuck, the game's about to start. I'm going to head down to the Mess and actually eat something." She said before downing her beer in one go. "Tell Miguel I said 'hi' when he gets here."

"I will." Frank said.

~

It was about midnight that same night when Sergeant Frank Valois and his husband Lance Corporal Miguel Villalobos heard a familiar jingling over the sound of the space heater in their tent. They'd only had the tent for a couple of weeks since they had gotten married, but it had become homelike, even if interruptions like this had become depressingly common. The newlyweds waited a few minutes before Frank popped his head out of the tent to take a look around.

"What is it this time honey?" Miguel said as he looked over at the tent flap from his perch on a crate they had pilfered to be a couch.

"A pheasant." His husband, Frank, replied as he stared at the dead and unplucked bird hanging down from a convenient tent-pole.

"Is she ever going to get the message?" Miguel said as he ran his fingers through his black hair. "We've told her you're off the market twice. I'm about ready to call the MPs."

"I don't really think that's necessary." Frank said, before taking the pheasant in. "Sheti is a nice girl with a cute kid, and I don't want her getting in trouble over this."

"Because you want to tap that." Miguel said as he sighed. "I didn't know you were a breast man though. I might not have said yes if I'd known. That lip rug is bad enough."

"I like all kinds. Besides, you're just mad that she can pull off that dress better than you can." Frank shot back, stroking his mustache.

"I could pull that off." Miguel replied, "I'd just need some new heels is all. Maybe a nice set of pumps. Oh, and a new wig."

"Sure…" Frank muttered dutifully, trying to find his boots. His bald head reflecting the lamplight.

"You're going to give it back to her aren't you?" Miguel said as he sat up. "I'm coming with."

Sheti lived in a farming hamlet about a mile out of Metella proper, and only a few hundred yards from the fence line of the main base. It was on a small rise that was just above the high-water mark for the spring flood. The hamlet itself wasn't much more than a couple of barns and corn cribs, with maybe a half dozen pithouses and a low wall working their way around the rim of the rise. Sheti's late husband had been one of the farmers there after they'd had their first child, and his family hadn't yet thrown them out of the house on the edge of the hamlet yet, even if they were loathe to tolerate, never mind support a Yrcen full-blood and her half-breed toddler.

Frank knocked on the door, and after a minute Sheti opened the door and popped her head out. The smile on her face quickly faded when she saw Miguel and her blue-grey ears drooped, almost hiding in her hair. The maltese cat-woman then came out to talk. In the light of the moon (and a flashlight) her eyes glowed even as they narrowed.

"I guess this is actually a no then." She said in pidgin as Frank and Miguel nodded.

Frank handed the pheasant over. "Yeah. I'm married. I love my husband, and I can't just leave him for someone else."

"Could I do your laundry or something? Could you set me up with someone?" Sheti replied nervously, with her ears back, eyes wide and voice low. "I need to go somewhere else, they won't let me plant, and I can't leave my daughter with anyone here to really hunt. She's too young to travel into the mountains, and they might try something if I'm gone…"

"We'll ask around, but there's not really much work at the base if you can't speak English, and you can't stay in our quarters." Miguel said.

"Maybe try with someone else?" Frank said.

"Some of the boots in my section or the sergeant could probably go for the whole single mom catgirl thing." Miguel continued. "Alternatively there's Captain Lee. Only problem is he's Captain Lee."

"I don't think that would work out." Sheti replied. "I'm about ready to give up on men anyway. You let two women marry, right?"

"Johnson's a dyke, so maybe her?" Frank said switching to English.

"You just described half the women in the brigade." Miguel replied.

"The redhead. Weather forecaster, sings Duran Duran songs on karaoke night." Frank said. "I know she's on the rebound."

"Right, her." Miguel said. "She might be worth a shot."

"So," Frank said, switching back to Meledli, "We might have a plan."

"What kind of plan?" Sheti said nervously.

~

"Sergeant, what are you planning?" Jessica Johnson said when she got the look on Frank's face, trying to decide if she'd had enough coffee to handle this bullshit on top of her hangover.

"I just want you to go out on a date with someone." Frank said, pulling something up on his phone "Just as a favor."

"Who is it this time?" Johnson said, "It better not be one of your husband's boots. I've been pretty clear I'm not interested in men, and I don't need a merkin. Why you think I'm one of those boatfuckers down trying to build a dock is a mystery to me."

"That's funny. I remember that you were practically begging me to set you up last night." Frank continued as he handed his phone over to Jessica. "She's a nice full-blooded yrcen girl. Looks kinda like a Maltese cat, and she's cute I guess. It doesn't even need to be much more than the two of you and her kid having a picnic or something."

"Cute or not, she has a kid." Johnson said, her green eyes narrowing even as she looked at the screen, before handing the phone back. "You probably should've led off with that Frank. Even if she is cute enough that I won't report you over this."

Frank waved his hand, pulling out a cigarette. "It's not like that. Her daughter is adorable, and is why I'm trying to find her someone. Her late husband's family hate her, and she can't really hunt or travel with a toddler." he said, lighting up and offering the pack to Johnson "and I said I'd help her find someone if she'd stop bothering us."

"Why is she a widow, anyway?"

"He was one of the guys who died in that first skirmish, along with the nomarch and a few others." Frank said. "She doesn't hold it against us, and she's been essential for the Clinic's research since her daughter is the only eared yrcen child in town, but his family are pretty anti-everything as a result. Most of that hamlet, really."

"Christ, what is it with you and charity cases? This is like that damn dog."

"I'm a bleeding heart. Sue me." Frank replied with a shrug. "Anyway she's hot, and she has a pretty good sense of humor, so do you want to go out with her or not? If you don't want to, I could try and set her up with Captain Lee."

"Fuck, if that's the alternative, I'll go out with her." Johnson said. "Christ, talk about going for the throat. I mean, you might as well let them kill her or something, put her out of her misery.

"Well, that's option three," Frank muttered, puffing away. "Except the minute she's dead, the kid's getting thrown in a sack and stoned to death or something. Probably just as much to spite us as to just kill the kid since the locals know we're doing very important research on her, which makes it my problem and you're the only decent asset we have for this, outside putting them in protective custody or playing favorites with a particularly hated widow. Plus you were the one complaining about not getting any."

Jessica gulped, and swiped the proffered cigarette from earlier. "That would probably have gotten me to agree sooner, you know. 'Oh hey, this kid's on the line and the circumstances involve a threat to our control of the town, do us a favor and show up a few times, maybe get her to scrawl on some paperwork.'" Jessica said as she lit up. "But no, you have to mention Captain Lee, didn't you?"

"There is no fate worse than Captain Lee, except maybe a posting in the sandbox, and even then the second one has danger pay." Frank said. "So I used what worked."

"You still could just take this up with the MPs or something, instead of trying to be sneaky." Johnson continued. "God knows this would be the perfect dry run to get a women's shelter or something going."

Frank scoffed, and waved his cigarette dramatically out towards the base wall. "You tell me, with a straight face, that you think we can get the people and the money to work out a woman's shelter when we can't even get a goddamn seven-day forecast that isn't 'mid sixties with a chance of rain, bring a poncho you fucking boot'? When my entire job is hunting down dumbfuck boots who might have run into spoopy shit and making sure we don't get smited for fucking up another holy site? When the USDA people are trying to figure out the best way to drag these people out of sustenance farming without causing a famine along the way, and I'm the go between for all of it?"

"Fuck you, you'll get a good seven day forecast when we get a radar worth a damn." Jessica growled, puffing angrily for a moment as Frank's cold summation of the facts warred with her rosy recollections of the past few weeks. "but you have a point. It's still not right."

"Never said it was." Frank replied, as he tossed a butt into the sand bucket. "And this case can't wait, so we'll do what we can. I'll go with you to bring it up to the brass if you want, see if something isn't done, like what happened to that son of a bitch Schmuckatelli bought his wife from."

"Where is your husband, anyway?"

Frank sighed, looking up at the stars. "We flipped a coin. I won."

"Christ on a cracker." Jessica muttered, the remains of her cigarette falling from her lips. "You sent him to Captain Lee."

"Ayep."

~

The area at the edge of the old town where Jessica met Sheti for their date was actually pretty nice. Being floodprone and too close to the walls to be cultivated, the current plan was to turn it into a park once some benches and playground equipment came in. In the meantime, it was a good place for a picnic, as long as you didn't sit in the swampy bits. With that in mind, Jessica had brought a tarp, and a tote full of food and drinks. In this case a couple cheesesteaks, a thermos of coffee, fruit cups, and a parfait.

Sheti had brought her daughter Nauta, a sack and a hunting bow and arrows. The toddler looked a lot like her mother, except she didn't have fur and her milk teeth were unsettlingly prominent.

The two sat on the tarp and conversed as well as they could in pidgin, even as Nauta ran around, tugged on her mother's hair and tail, and gorged herself on the parfait.

"I've needed this." Sheti said as she flicked her tail around, "Since my husband died, I haven't had a moment to relax. They've killed my dogs, threatened my daughter, and left me with no other way to feed us outside of picking off deer or pheasants stupid enough to go into the orchard."

"You live a hard life."

"If I could get away with it, I'd probably kill them all." Sheti said wistfully as she looked at her daughter playing with a doll. "It wouldn't be hard if I could get some poison, but shooting them or hacking them all to death would be too slow for it to be safe for her."

"Are you really capable of that?" Jessica asked as she looked at the grey woman who was pensively flicking her ears around, "I killed a man last week, and I don't think I could do it again unless it was him or me."

Sheti laughed. "I did it to put food on the table when it was just me, and those people didn't even deserve it." She continued confidently. "Not like they wouldn't do the same to me, if they ever left their huts for anything except the corn and their sheep."

Jessica laughed nervously even as she unwrapped a philly and handed it to Sheti. "I can understand that."

"Are you all that squeamish about violence?" Sheti said as she looked at the philly, covered in cheese and peppers and mushrooms, even as her ears tracked her now sleeping daughter's movements. "Is your land really so peaceful even your soldiers can be like that?"

"I'm supposed to be a fobbit, and I didn't join the Marines to go out and kill people." Jessica said as she unwrapped her own sandwich. "I joined up because if I didn't I'd have been stuck in Logan County waiting tables for the rest of my life. Nothing to see, nowhere to go, nothing to do… the boredom and drugs would've gotten me faster there than my odds of getting an arrow here, or getting blown up in Afghanistan."

"I left home for much the same reasons." Sheti said. "I had good timing too, since plague carried off my parents a year later."

"I couldn't handle being alone like that." Jessica said. "I know my family would hate me if I came out to them, but I still send money home because I know they couldn't get out, and I do at least want to give my sister's kids the chance I got even if there mother is a good for nothing."

"How do you even eat this thing?" Sheti asked, her ears folded back in confusion as she looked at the sandwich

"You eat it like this," Jessica said, before holding her philly up in Sheti's line of sight and taking a bite out of it.

Sheti followed suit. "What is this?" She asked in between bites, with her ears perked up, "I've never had anything like it."

"Bread, beef, provolone, green peppers, onions and mushrooms." Jessica replied. "There's no tomatoes or egg whites in it."

"What are those?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "We kinda found out the hard way there's a lot of food the locals like you can't eat. Tomatoes, egg whites, certain sugars: they all make you sick."

"Glad I'm not the one who found that out the hard way." Sheti joked, taking another bite. "Did Skior find out about it?"

"Skior?"

"Old… comrade? I think that word is right? Comrade of mine. He did sales down here. Actually met my husband through him after a business dispute."

Thinking for a minute, Jessica tried to decide how to broach this topic gently. "Was he about yea tall, bushy unbraided beard, spat a lot, kinda greasy looking?"

Sheti shrugged. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Well, since he was pimping some girls he'd brought in on our base and that's not allowed for a number of reasons, some of the guys tried to run him off, and followed him back to his camp. Except then they found a kid and… well…"

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's pretty dead." Jessica shrugged. "Just got shot 'resisting arrest' instead of having his heart torn out like that pimp did."

"Eh, he was horrible in the sack anyway, and tried hoarding our share of the loot." Sheti groused, finishing her cheesesteak, and going for the other half. "These are pretty good!"

"Thank the commissary." Jessica grinned. "After Awri puked up all over their floor from sweet tea and some kid's mother freaked out over bloody stools they made a local-safe menu, aside from the omelettes, which are whites only now."

"You know, if it means food like this on a regular basis, I'd be more than happy to come to the base with you." Sheti said, batting her eyelashes and smiling. "This is delicious!"

"It's on a rotation, but everything is pretty meat heavy." Jessica replied as she poured herself a cup of coffee and Sheti's expression shifted to something that reminded Jessica of a housecat that just heard a can opener even as she scooted closer to Jessica. "I've been in for three years, and I'm still not used to how good and how much food there is."

"Is it unusual?" Sheti asked, looking concerned as she leaned over. "I thought you all came from paradise."

"No," Jessica said, in between sips of coffee. "I just grew up really poor in the country."

"What about the medicine?" Sheti asked, as she moved to brace herself with an arm. "I've been taking Nauta to the doctors so she'll be safe from plague and worms, and because we need the food."

"I think that's cheap enough you don't have to worry about it." Jessica said in between sips as she tried to calm the older woman. "The doctors here are working very hard to make sure we don't accidentally make everyone sick, and that's why they're not charging for anything or outright paying people with peanut butter and spam to come in. Of course wives and children get priority over other civilians, but everyone does that."

"But isn't that why you give offerings to the gods and pray and keep food safe? Do your gods not protect you-" Sheti said, before being interrupted with a kiss.

"You're cute when you worry that much." Jessica said after pulling away. "We've got good doctors here and none of you are stupid enough to avoid vaccination."

"It's just, she's all I have left." Sheti said. "After my husband died, I don't have any family left, my former partners are all dead or gone, and Skior is dead. So it is the two of us, and I don't want to lose anyone else."

It was at this point that Jessica pulled a confused Sheti into a hug. "You're not doing this alone. I'm here, as are Frank and Miguel, and from what I've seen the enlisted wives here are pretty tight as well."

"Where are you going with this?" Sheti asked, unsure of how to respond to the gesture.

"I mean you were looking to get married right?" Jessica replied.

"Yes, I was." Sheti said.

"Then let's keep doing this." Jessica said before pulling back. "Grab your shit, I'll grab the kid, and we'll go to my quarters before we talk to Sergeant Valois."

Nauta didn't even stir once on the walk back, and Jessica laid her down on the small bed in her quarters to continue sleeping. Sheti watched over her and silently judged the shoddy construction of the B-Hut, and the moaning from next door. Jessica, having decided against hauling the two of them all the way across camp for what amounted to a socal call, called Sergeant Valois. By the time the Sergeant came around, it was late enough that the pair of locals were asleep, although Jessica was still up.

"So, how'd it go?" The Sergeant said as he sat down on the bench outside the B-hut.

"They're both out like a light." Jessica replied. "Hopefully her neighbors don't do anything to her house while she's gone."

"I don't think they're stupid enough to give us an excuse to come down on them. If they think she's fucking an American, that's protection enough for now." Frank said as he lit up. "You think you might end up marrying her?"

"She's certainly cute enough." Jessica chirped.

"You better start doing the paperwork then." Frank said. "I'll have the numbers for the people you're supposed to talk to on your desk tomorrow morning."

"Fuck." Jessica said. "Is that new?"

"No." Frank said. "You're just not enough of a fuckup to get special treatment."
 
Dreams of a New Age
[ ] Dreams of a New Age

~!@#$%^&*()_+

Your adventure begins, as movies tell you these thing sometimes do, at an estate sale. You've visited these regularly since you was a kid because your parents had the bizarre idea it made for better birthday and Christmas presents when you could pick through some old ladies stuff. It used to be boring, even annoying... then you started selling the stuff you got on Ebay... the bidding war one of your sales set off made things much more interesting. With pocket money to spare and the advent of smartphones with touchscreen internet they became positively exciting.

This particular estate sale is in memory of Madam Vivienne Varma. Recently deceased at the age of 93, black, short haired, rather pretty despite her advanced age, and possessing an astounding collection of pseudo-Victorian-era finery. The old house is filled with ball gowns, gilded masks, leather bound books and jewelry. You carefully peruse the dead ladies belongings as they're laid out on the auction table, googling everything and occasionally calling friendly professionals with picture IM's to gauge the value of one thing or another.

Then you see it. A necklace. A large Aquamarine stone on a long silver chain that seems to glint at you invitingly. Against reason, you're captivated and add it to your purchases.

You leave the sale several hours later, car loaded down mostly with old books. Jewelry is nice and can fetch a good price, as can dresses, but the really good stuff is rare and snatched up quickly. More often you've found that with an old book and the right highbrow auction house you can make enough money to take vacations and not need a real job. It's almost better than finding vintage 'one of a kind' collectables people on Ebay go nuts over.

At home, you catalogue each of the books, even read bits of them, set up pictures of everything and send emails to your friendly experts. They'll send emails to their buyers and by the end of the month you'll be in another auction. For reasons beyond you, you forego cataloging the aquamarine necklace and instead, fall asleep in your Lazy-boy, the gem in your pocket. As you sleep the gem begins to glow.

You awaken in a landscape full of green mist. The stone is uneven forming a cobweb of rough hewn archways. In the distance you can see... people you think... walking along the stones like ants. Or those people from M. C. Escher's painting "Stairs". On one horizon there appears to be a city out of Lord of the Rings, on the other, you see a brightly glowing disk with more people going in and out of it. Walking around a little you take note of things closer to home. You seem to be in a clearing of sorts with a gigantic blue stone wart smoking at its center.

The stone pathways out of your clearing are steep up or down and idly you wish you had climbing gear. As you imagine the equipment you're startled out of the surreal bliss of your imagination by a tightening across your hips and chest. You are now equipped with a rock climbing harness, a coil of rope wound around your shoulder and a fanny pack full of carabiners and climbing hooks.

You decide to amuse yourself before figuring out who the people are. As long as you're in control of the dream you might as well. Focusing on a memory from your childhood where Scrooge McDuck dives into a pile of gold coins and dollar bills. Before your eyes a giant blob of money begins to form in the void off to the right. Laughing like a loon you dive into it. It's not quite swimming around as you had imagined. You're weightless, and the notes and coins spread and flow easily, but it's a lot like crawling through a tunnel. You shrug and kick yourself to the top, the money disappearing and reforming itself into the strange green stone of the nearby ground now that you no longer want it.

The next thing you'd like to try is flying! Not falling either, flying like a bird! Isn't that usually what people talk about having dreams of? As idea swirl around in your head, you feel the wings growing out of your back and reforming themselves. It's odd and surreal, just like the whole rest of this experience and you really wish you could see yourself. A short bit of focus and a large standing mirror you resold once appears in front of you.

The current set of wings you're wearing are those of a peregrine falcon; long thin and angular. Good for acrobatics and controlling a dive, but not for flying, requiring large amounts of flapping or very strong thermal updrafts. Musing on the issue you go through several other types; fantasy succubus, full dragon wings, bat, sugar glider, angel wings.

Ooh, angel wings, keeping that one.

Stretching your wings, together, one at a time and moving them around like fingers, spreading out and curling. It's amazing how real it feels. Their weight on your back, the muscles stretching in the new limbs, the soft prickling as the feathers move over each other. You remember a could of really vivid wet dreams, but this is more. Or perhaps it's not? Maybe this is what it's like in every dream, you just don't remember 60-95% of the details afterwards. With that thought in mind you take off, legs crouch, wings spread and you jump, pulling down with your wings with all of your might. You rocket up into the pea soup clouds.

You've gone far higher than you expected, but the rush as your stomach sinks into your shoes and air rushes past your face. You crest above the clouds and see the city in the distance as you roll over in the air. You shrug, it's floating on the horizon, a multitude of tiny lights offering a sense of scale and incredible distance. It's much further than the people at the light and you're not sure you want to visit any of the cities in your memory. The people at the light are closer and if this is a dream, because of course it is, it's fewer people for you to invent fantasy conversations for.

Turning down into a dive you fall again, grinning as the wind tries to pull back your cheeks. You can still breathe easily somehow, but you attribute that to inconsistencies in dreaming. It would be inconvenient and probably mean that you'd rolled face down into your pillow...

Except that you were in your armchair last you remembered. ...And now an armchair is falling beside you through the emerald mists.

You dismiss it and spread your wings. You have more important things to do, like seeing which old relationships your dreaming mind has dredged up for you to revisit today. As your wings catch the imagined air, your flight levels off and you begin gliding at speed. An arm of stone loom out of the gloom and you pump your wings some to skim over the top of it, the rough stone just skimming your shoes as you pass.

You dive and weave around a few more before approaching the arcing precipice of rock where you saw the light.

Now that you're closer you can see broken half finished structures of what looks like a medieval castle. The light is coming from a room on one of the upper floors where the walls have been blown out. It appears to be a full length mirror and... holy shit those are not people down there.

Or, well, two of them are.

Both of the humans look like fantasy characters from a role playing game with one foot in the grave... or a couple years in it. The rest of the... figures... are humanoid in the same way a clay statue that's been left to sit too long is. Some of them look like a craze sculptor thought it might be cool to craft a person out of magma before the stone had cooled below a cherry red, others looked like the same artist had given up halfway through and left the thing to cool, soot and all. There were a few succubus looking things as well which seemed to be either the center of attention or directing the flow of traffic, you couldn't decide, but the armored girl who looked like a fresh casting from The Walking Dead seemed to be keeping everyone else away from the glowing mirror with her glowering presence.

The wrinkled old man on the other hand... seemed to be holding a soap bubble? If that bubble were 300 feet in diameter and covered most of the broken castle.

As you approach the knight the world seems to change, growing harder. Your wings itch and the feathers start to fade, forcing you to focus to keep them on your back. As you get within a dozen feet of the room your quarry sets herself within gravity has fully reasserted itself and the walls have become solid. They write with black mist and the worn stones are covered by a bright, transparent wall of plaster. The door to the study also has a strange duality to it, strong solid and polished on the outside, a large section broken out of it and significant damage from water and time on the inside.

What could that mean, you wonder? It's not as if you're old.., only 42. You certainly don't look or feel old or worn out.

You open the door to confront your gremlin.

"Fledgling, step no further. This one has no need of your presence."

You clear your throat and chuckle, remembering hecklers at the Renaissance Faire. "Forsooth, M'lady, but perhaps this one is in need of you. What say you then?"

The zombie turns to you fully, expression turning slowly from its sour mask to considering. "The dreamer has this one's interest. Speak, before it loses more."

Aaannnddd... the creepy double voice zombie talks about the dream you're both in. Fourth wall break? At least it's not speaking to an audience you can't see, making rude comments about your wings or confusion.

"The things one sees in dreams are issues unresolved in the waking world; so we were curious, what pray-tell are you?"

The monster looks at you incredulously and then laughs at some private joke. "This one is The Dryden, Sophia. This one is trapped. This one would see new places, seek new sensations, but The Avernus holds us tight. Keeps us prisoner. And now you walk into our midst, a meal to the brethren."

This... is definitely not a common dream. Well, unless you're schizophrenic and this is the first sign of your second personality. "The man holding the bubble keeps you here, does he? If he troubles the, why doth ye not strike him down?"

"This one cannot." Sophia replied simply. "This one has bound itself to The Dryden, seeking hope, craving change tasting delicious sensation and hidden places. But these things come with a price. The waking world is solid and does not yield easily to this one's commands. The Avernus has barred the door with his stones and his magics alike. This one cannot move beyond these three rooms. But this one is patient. The veil continues to weaken and the Avernus to tire. A century more and this one will be free. To roam, to see, to feed..."

"And if I were to speed things along?" You ask, edgily. You've really no intention of helping this thing, but the comment about being a meal for her and the... other things... has left you nervous. You're really rather not fall to some psychosis and if any burgeoning personality disorders could be turned on one another while you get treatment? Well...

Deciding it's best to leave the creepy lady alone for the moment you head for the old bugger holding the soap bubble. As you get further away from the ghoulish knight a weight lifts off your metaphysical shoulders. Walls become old and pocked with large chunks missing, gravity ceases to be so cumbersome and your wings stop trying to burn away. Not that you particularly care about them, but it's the principal of the thing. You're not the one trying to dismiss them, so them trying to crumble away sucks. It's your dream isn't it?

Though you're rather starting to doubt that last bit.

Flying loops around the causeway between the broken castle floating on it's chunk of rock in nowhere and the half tower supported by a few floating bricks, you approach the transparent rooms. As you approach the walls of the tower itself the air changes. It doesn't weigh you down or become thick like it did around Sophia, but the walls of the tower are no longer transparent. Flaring your wings you drop most of your speed and land against the walls.

Ooouch, that could have been nasty. Like falling in a dream. You wonder briefly if you'd have woken before the impact or with it.

You stand up, reorienting yourself. Gravity at least is still under your control, but now you have to deal with the surreality of a castle being above you, a tower below and a thin string of incomplete rock suspending it over your head. As you walk over to the causeway and the door you fold your wings and let them sink into your back. You're about to reach the door when the stones under your feet begin to shift and reform themselves. jumping out of the way you look down at the wall you're standing on and see that it has become a stone face.

"Yes? Oh, hello, who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm here to see the wizard?" you ask with a grin.

"Cheeky. So, you're a dreamer are you? Yes, I can sense you're not one of those uncouth demons. Come in, if it suits you; it's not often an old man gets to speak his mind."

With that, the face flattened out into a plain stone wall and the door a few feet behind you drops open.

You, perhaps against better judgement, walk in. "Enter my web, said the spider to the fly," you mutter. Then again, this was looking to be less dangerous than what you'd done last time. Assume this is still a dream, Avernus looks to be your rational mind holding your issues in check, while Sophia is one of the more cohesive representations of those issues. Given Avernus spoke of demons and she speaks in the third person, she's probably the usual fantasy about how much you would have liked to strangle your boss back when you still did 9 to 5 or what fun it would be to bash in that jerks skull at the bar.

If this isn't a dream... somehow... then meeting this entity seems safer than what you did flying up to Sophia Dryden earlier. At the very least Avernus hides the evil creepy shit better. Such as not being a zombie, no leering and not having a threatening multilayered voice.

You step onto the causeway, reorienting where down is again, and walk through the door. You have a better feel this time as the restrictions of the area close in around you. There aren't as many of them as there were in Sophia's space and you feel as if you could ignore them without a whole lot of effort... but then this guy is also holding what looks to be a bubble that's interfering with other people's spaces too, so who knows how strong this personality really is. Assuming he's not part of you.

You walk through and outer chamber and something catches the side of your eye. There are... pages... and writing hanging in the air. You can only see it from certain angles and the words are all in Norse runes, something you're only passingly familiar with. As in you know what they are, but reading them would be beyond you.

Weird.

Moving into the next room... is about as disturbing as Sophia was up close. The walls are lined with ghosts of people in a variety of conditions, most of them laid out over tables or in cages. They appear and disappear. Play out little scenes that at a glance look to be... medical experiments? Human trials, nasty business.

"Hrm... interesting." Avernus drones, his accent posh and tired sounding. "Let me have a look at you..." The old man walks around you, looking you up and down like a specimen on his lab table, or a car he's planning to buy. "You're a dreamer, that much is obvious... and you're not a mage... but you could be! How curious indeed. I has been quite some time since I met one such as yourself. Are you perhaps a late bloomer? Or... well, no, that's quite impossible."

You tilt your head. "What are you talking about, old man? As cool is that'd be, magic isn't real."

The man stared at you for a few seconds before bursting out in a great belly laugh. This continued on for nearly a minute and a half before Avernus calmed down enough to meet your glower. "Oh, oh dear maker, thank-you son. I needed that. Perhaps more than I knew..." He straightened himself up and brushed down his robe. "Magic is in fact quite real, and You, my friend, have the talent for it. Where precisely do you live that you think the arcane to be a myth?"

"America." You reply flatly. Then you brighten, assuming once more that you're not dreaming or going nuts... magic! Bullshit of course, but it's been a personal fantasy pretty much since you first saw Lord Of The Rings, say nothing of reading Harry Potter or playing Video Games.

Avernus looks pensive. "Hmm... America. I have never heard of such a place myself. Is it perhaps across the Amaranthine Ocean? Or north of Par Vollen and the Anderfels? It must be a nice place to never have heard of demons." His frown deepened. "Unless the humans there are like the dwarves... blind to the fade and it's mysteries." He peers at you closely. "You do not seem unfamiliar to dreaming, have any of your dreams been vivid before this night?"

You shake you head. "Not really, though I think I might be from somewhere a bit further away than you imagine." You reply. For one thing you've never heard of Amaranthine, let alone an ocean named such. And you're pretty sure there aren't any countries still in the feudal or medieval ages. Hell, even in the dark pits of Africa there's still signs everywhere of modern times.

"How far?" he asks sharply.

"Cosmic." You state dryly. "I'm still not convinced this whole thing isn't a fantasy of mine, I quite like fantasy stories and the dreaming mind can do funny things. But assume you're real and not some manifestation of buried psychosis. You say you can teach me magic?" You utter that last part with an eager grin.

The old man looks thunderstruck, but quickly lowers his head in contemplation. "I could teach you. Much of my research is done here in the fade before I conduct my experiments. So much easier to hold information in a place it never, heh, fades and cannot be set aflame. But I'm afraid I'm not entirely qualified and who knows if what you can offer an old man would be worth his time?"

"What do you need? Or perhaps, what could I do for you?"

The corners of the man's mouth twitched. "There is the matter of the demons haunting this castle... And of course knowledge from another world would be quite valuable on its own. How able are you to access the lore of your peoples masters, for instance? Or I could direct you to the dreamers of the local Mage tower, Kinloch. Your choice..."

"Sure," You say, "knowledge is easy enough. I used to tutor people for pocket change in college. Mind you though, I'm not a proper scientist or even a doctoral student, so a lot of the specifics of stuff like advanced chemistry, engineering, non-basic medical sciences and other advanced shit is quite beyond me."

Avernus raised a wrinkled brow. "For all that you cannot do, you seem quite confident you'll have something valuable to offer me."

You grin broadly. "Do you have guns? Horseless carriages? Industrial metallurgy? Civilian electricity? I know a lot of basic sciences that to a medieval fantasy would seem a lot like magic. And I've gone through enough entertainment media with magic to spend an inordinate amount of time imagining what I could do to make science better. Call it... a hobby."

"Hrm..." The old mage grumbled to himself. "Be that as it may. Show me the first of these lessons and I shall help you achieve your first arcane blast. After that exchange I should know enough to determine a system of value we could work by."

"Alright," you say and close your eyes, dredging up more amusing memories of highschool Chemistry. "Have you ever heard of guns? Or perhaps cannon?"

Avernus thought for a moment, then nodded sharply. "350 years ago, give or take a decade a group called the Qunari came through and did a good job of conquering the known world. They were driven back however by their poor treatment of mages and brutal attempts to convert civilians from the church of the maker to their philosophy of the Qun. Their primary weapon was the cannon. A mechanical beast powered by the mysterious substance Gathlok. The Qunari have guarded the secret of the Gathlock well and when last I left my tower 180 years ago none had yet uncovered its secrets except that with a small spark it can explode with the force of a strong fireball spell." He chuckled darkly and his grin became positively bloodthirsty. "That was actually how the men of the free marches turned them back. The qunari mages were worthless and their greatest weapon easy to turn against them with the simplest of spells. When the mage circles were set to destroying a Qunari forces Gathlock stores their cannons exploded in the center of their armies and fleets, killing many and allowing our armies to face them on even footing."

"Huh," you reply "go figure. Think the knowledge of how to do it better would be of interest?" The look of greed in his expression was answer enough. "Find yellow curing salts, potash if you can, the crystal saltpeter that forms in sewage if you're desperate and grind it to powder. Then take charcoal..."

Avernus held up his hand in a stopping gesture. "What is charcoal?" he asked, wanting clarification. "Is it different than regular coal?"

"Ah, yeah" you reply scratching your head. "Charcoal is carbon ash obtained by baking things in sealed furnaces where extra air can't get to it. It becomes black and breaks down without burning. That ash is what you want. You can use Coal dust, but you need to bake the coal first to remove any liquids or gasses before it starts to burn. The last ingredient is sulfur. You want to grind them into a fine powder and mix them together. 2 parts sulfur, 3 parts ash or coal dust, 15 parts yellow curing salts."

Avernus shook his head. "Maker preserve us. So simple. Indeed, if my sins are atoned and the demons of this castle exorcised, that information alone could be sold to kings for enough gold to fund my research for decades at least." He looked at you, "I will have to test this of course, I think I might have the needed materials, though if not, creation magic should be enough to give me what I need. Have you more such world shaking revelations?"

Your grin was answer enough.

After that, Avernus walked you through the steps for creating both an arcane bolt and shield with the instructions to return to him once you'd gotten the hang of it. And further orders to practice it while awake. "In the fade all is possible and merely requires imagination and force of will. It is in the limitations of the waking world where skill is developed." The lecture and instructions for the spells were long, detailed and boring, but... essentially, they boiled down to four simple steps. First, draw on your awareness of the fade, doing so will build your mana pool. You'll understand what I mean next time you wake up. Step two, focus on the new feeling of vitality the mana will give you and draw it forth. It should be a simple act of will now that you have awakened and will manifest as a blue light with sufficient concentration. Finally, concentrate on precisely what you want to do and push the mana away from you. In the case of a shield, you want it to form a wall between you and the rest of the world, cutting you off from that which inspires fear. For a mana bolt you will need to feel some form of anger or repulsion that can focus your mind onto a point; that will allow you to fire it and hurt things with it.

Simple, right? Well, it certainly was in the fade. You figured it out within minutes and spent several more amusing yourself with blasting rocks from the underside of Avernus fortress.

Now that you have the basics of Avernus two lessons down, you need a place to practice the hard way. Since you're having too much fun to force yourself awake you decide to take what's actually Sophia Dryden's advice. The Mirror and entering the physical world of Thedas come with the consequences of reality and it's confining rules. Since that's what you need to practice properly according to Professor Avernus and you're actually used to doing things the normal way... you head for the mirror.

The Mirror has the same problem it did last time, that specifically being the swarm of things you now know to call demons on either side of of the barrier. Since you don't particularly want to deal with them, but want to get through, your plan is to swoop in like a bird and punch through the loose flock of monsters and get to the other side before they know what's going on.

Pumping your recently recalled wings you rise well above the castle before pausing to take in the panorama. You can see the emerald city in the distance, almost on your level, and at this height you can even see a glimpse of other structures here and there. One of them looks like a fingerprint far to the west, to the north east there's a sort of singing mountain and to the south, a giant crystal glacier looking thing. Turning your mind away from all of that, you stoop into a dive. Under the direction of your will as much as they height itself you steadily gain speed with each meter. As you approach the castle once more you're easily going 60, 70 miles an hour. Your wings flare slightly and the angle if your descent changes parabolically and you swoop, maintaining most of your earlier momentum in a lateral motion now. The conversion is much better and less straining in the fade where perception governs reality rather than the other way around, but you aren't thinking about that... you've just glided past the demons hovering around the entrance and there are a lot more of them than you thought at first.

There are the dark sooty ones and the magma spirits of course, but there's also a lot of ghosts, ghostly skulls and this wickedly dangerous looking succubus creature who manages to make pink look absolutely sexy. As you punch through the cloud of monsters at 50 miles an hour you feel all of them pulling at your mind, shredding your wings and greying out your vision. You only catch the briefest flashes, but the black ones want you to drown in despair or sleep forever; the red ones are trying to show you worlds where you're playing Red Hulk on everything and the purple one... You're sitting behind the desk of a highrise in a business suit below you is a panorama of a city you somehow know instinctively has been shaped by your orders...

And then it's gone. Rules of physics and magic wrap around you like steely bands even as you catapult through several walls, your vision going dark briefly as you pass through solid stone walls one to two meters thick. The air parts thickly for you, providing drag that devours your speed in a way the walls simply do not and flailing your arms around feels much like you remember from swimming in pools.

You finally come to rest half buried in a snowbank on the far side of the castle. Standing up, you brush yourself off, only to notice you're not covered with snow. Hell, you haven't even made an impression in the snow. Examining your body you find yourself to be vaguely transparent... like a super-concentrated ghost. Your pants feel like denim when you touch them, your shirt cotton, pliable and solid... but you're still just see-through enough to be noticeable. You cast around for a comparison if what you're dealing with now and come up with Astral Projection, but more Prue from Charmed than Charles Xavier or Dungeons & Dragons.

You take in a deep breath and let it out, but produce no breath mist in the frigid snowy landscape. Odd. Though, being a ghost, perhaps not?

You shake your head, you're drifting off topic. You came here to practice, so, you should practice, right? You get as far as step two before something odd starts to happen. One of the floating skulls you saw earlier has started poking around. It sees the mana in your hands and howls. With a flash it disappears and the snow begins to shift. With the distinct cracking of ice a shape begins to rise from the snowbank.

It's a zombie...

A fucking zombie. Complete with desiccated skin clinging in wrinkled chunks to white bone and adorned in armor with weapons sticking out of it's body at random points. It's movements are clumsy, but you still down get quite out of the way, and the swords edge carves a nice gash down the side of your leg. You look at the wound for half a second before the pain hits you like a wall and you stumble out of the way of the undead warriors second attack. You stare up at the thing in horror and as it raises the sword up to chop you in half where you sit, you raise your arms, still alight with mana in a warding gesture.

CLANG!

The sword rebounds off a distinct wall of mana, the shield spell you practiced earlier responding to your fear of being harmed and the presence of mana, manifested in your hands.

Clang!

The sword strikes your shield again and you feel a slight fatigue rush through your body. You mind runs through several game models where you've played magical characters and swear. You're using a mana shield like in World Of Warcraft where damage blocked takes 15% of the damage as mana, shielding you from the rest. You probably can't keep this shield up for as long as the ghost skull can animate that body and empower its weapon to touch you in your ghostly state.

You need to do something.

Scrambling, you float backwards, away from the zombie and dismiss the shield. You focus on flight, which is much harder and slower in Thedas than it was in the fade and when you're sufficiently above the monster you begin to gather your mana again. As you point your hands at the monster and gather focus the magic into a bolt you look back down at it and feel like crying. The creature has found a bow somewhere and is working on removing an arrow from it's body to fire at you. Pouring your rage, fear and frustration into the magic you're about to unleash on it, you fire the arcane bolt. It shines like a star as it speeds forward with the speed of a cannonball. You feel another greater wave of fatigue as the bolt of magic leaves your hands, but it's satisfying as hell to see the zombie collapse like a puppet when your spell blasts the ghost skull out of it's body and explodes with a small muted flash.

Floating back down, the strain of flight taking too much out of you to keep it up, you make your way over to where the monster fell and glare at it. There was a sort of ball lying there where your enemy fell and in a fit of pique you kick the remains of the spirit that just tried to kill you.

The reaction was not what you expected. Instead of flying off into the distance, the ghostly residue flows into your ghostly foot and up your leg, wiping away the exhaustion you feel from recent spell-casting. Your eyes go wide as the implications of this hit you.

You hover over your recent kill for several minutes, thinking to yourself. You just defeated a spirit and consumed it boosting your power back to what it was before it attacked you. More interestingly it felt the need to take a physical form before launching its attack. The chance it left more essence on the body and a curiosity over what it thought it needed with the body drives you to examine the corpse more thoroughly. squatting down, you focus on picking up the withered frame and suit action to thoughts. Your hands slip through it a few times, with an odd resistance like moving through cobwebs before you finally manage to move it.

There doesn't seem to be any more essence as you continue your examination, so you lay down in the body, looking for any change. As you finish settling into position the world ripples and distorts until you are seeing double.

You stand alone in the fade, a rocky grotto around you devoid of other figures, demonic or human.
You lay in the snow, your limbs heavy, lungs cracking as you try to breath.

Your strength has returned, but you feel restricted, unable to move as easily as you had before.
Your strength is reduced, significant amounts of your mana being needed to perpetuate your movements.

"Well this was... brilliant." You groan. Ooh, your voice is doubling like Sophia's.

The double vision thing is going to be quite distracting for a while, you decide, as you look around both your stony fade clearing and the snowy crag to one side of the castle. Because you're not quite used to multitasking yet, you focus on the part of you now possessing the soldiers corpse. Raising a brittle, frozen hand you gather mana and cast the mana bolt spell again. It's a lot easier than when you fought the ghost skull a minute ago, but still much harder than when you were in the fade and firing them off like party favors. You're not sure however whether this is because you're possessing a body, or because of the spirit you just ate.

Regardless of which it is, you're feeling vindictive and need to return to Avernus in order to figure out just what you did. You focus briefly and try to shed the body you've picked up.

...It doesn't work.

You focus on the matter harder. Then add in the concept of trying to push the body away from you. Your magic reacts, and you find yourself, corpse, spirit and all, thrown 50 feet backwards where you land in another snow bank.

Well... Fuck.

It's then that you remember the words of Sophia Dryden. The Dryden was useful, but taking her flesh came with a price. Fuck.

You draw in a large breath of air and wheeze as you feel it whistle out through cracks in your ribs. Ok, you can work with this, it's not like you've done anything to your real body, you'll be whole once you wake up and if you can get back to Avernus he can likely show you how to fix your current predicament.

You grab the sword and bow and begin removing the arrows from your torso. You have a feeling you're going to need them before you get back to the one friendly in who knows how many miles.

Searching your armor, you find that your vessel does in fact have a quiver, but there's a hole in the bottom, so it won't hold the arrows you've just recovered. Second, the sword and bow are both cracked; you'll destroy them after a couple of uses. Best to make them count. The bonus at least is you still have most of your armor. Iron Pauldrons, chain and splint main shirt over a padded doublet, Iron Greaves and gauntlets. It's all low quality and full of battle scars, but aside from missing the helmet you sort of expect something of the like from a battle casualty. More curious are why his armor and body were not recovered and how the bleeding hell his sword had hurt you when you couldn't even touch his armor without conscious effort.

Examining the sword closer you find it shines in with flickers of fade green along the blade. Running your hands along the metal offers you more of the same energy you consumed when you kicked the slain ghost.

Comprehension dawns. The ghost put magic into the sword-blade. If a host could enchant a sword, you, a much stronger spirit, can do better. Gathering your mana again, you focus on it flowing into the blade. It lights up emerald white for the briefest of moments and becomes weightless in your hand.

Excellent.

Allowing your focus to split itself again, you walk the body around the outside of the castle while in the fade you explore the grotto. After a short inspection you find that there are things cemented into the walls. Spines of books, laminated swords, eating knives, skinning knives and daggers. Mostly buried sets of armor, many of the shattered. Even some faces. Each of them holds a memory, shattered and faded as they are. None of them are distinct enough for you to draw anything from them, which is perhaps a good thing as it you've read alot of literature about how psychics loose themselves to the memories of those whose minds they invade.

You try shape-shifting within the fade as the corpse stumbles around under your direction but manifesting wings as you had several times recently is... difficult. Your vehicle stumbles, and you shift your attention to Thedas. Twin lengths of meat and bone stretch out from your mid-back, just below and between your shoulder-blades. It's barely a shadow of what you've manifested in the fade and malformed beside, but it gives you a few ideas. First, you're worried about getting back into the tower. You don't know the layout of the towers base in the real world, and there's likely to be more zombies you'll have to fight if you go up the steps inside.

Focusing on your boots you gather your mana around your feet and push. It takes enough power to make you stagger, but the metal of the boots flow out to form Ice Climbing teeth. Doing the same to the gauntlets sends your avatar to it's knees as you try to build the mana to continue locomotion. You wonder for a moment if expending all of your mana could potentially separate you from the body and add a mana shield over yourself. The lack of mana causes the body to collapse, but because of your dual presence there's an instant trickle of refilling power.

Hmm... An experiment for later. see if you can pull out by draining your mana and trying to cut yourself off then. Right now you can't manage to build the focus, this duality thing is just distracting you too much. On the upside this will help you with multitasking later, something you've never had the best success with before now. Necessity is the mother of growth after all.

When you've gathered sufficient mana in your alternate form you try to change things again. This time, you focus not on your armor, but on your zombie, trying to make it more like your body. The wings disappear and flesh begins mending. The holes are quickly closed and missing chunks of muscle stretch to knit together before you're face-down in the snow once more. Deciding that, as magical locomotion is apparently your prerogative as a ghost, repairing your lively physique is a secondary concern. Your next manapool is devoted to manifesting proper eyes, rebuilding the corpse's nose and reviving the throat and tongue. As much as you can see and speak despite logic or reality without them, the chances are, Avernus will smite you before you get a chance to explain if you don't look somewhat alive.

It's as you're finishing off your fifth recharge to build a proper face that the next spirit finds you. This time it looks like a proper ghost of sorts. It howls and disappears too, but instead of raising a zombie nearby to attack you you hear the faint thumping and howls of something on the other side of the wall you're resting by. You laugh, an odd sound as one is lively and echoing while it's mirror sounds like someone trying to cough up a hairball. They're in perfect sync too, so you can't pretend it's two different laughs either.

You can work on building a proper face later, you decide, if spirits are finding you now, it's time to get to the tower.

Your body at mana saturation it's easy to move the body and you start to run. Avernus tower is easy to recognize by the bridge connecting it to, or perhaps separating it from, the rest of the castle. More spirits show themselves as you move and piles of bones and desiccated bodies begin appearing throughout the courtyard as you move. They're drawn to you, some of them confused, some of them enraged, others hostile to the spirits raising themselves. It creates a necessary bit of chaos for you to get past the lot of them and reach the base of Avernus Tower.

Contrary to expectations, there is in fact a door at the base of Avernus tower. As expected however, it's blocked by something on the other side. Judging by the number of risen corpses in the courtyard, probably something pretty substantial. Cutting back to your original plan you jump for the wall outside and latch onto the roughly shaped stones. Whether by shoddy construction or the decay of elements and ages the towers blocks are rough and bowed outward like stacked bags of flour or sandbags. It would be possible, though difficult to climb with living hands, with regular metal gauntlets it would have been quite impossible. The modified claws however, you began climbing it with the same effort as crawling on your belly across the ground.

Less really, because you don't really feel the strain of physical muscles as you move, just the constant trickling loss of mana providing you with motion.

You nearly fall several times, holding on by only one hand and your feet, one hand and one foot, or your hands without either foot. You recover however and reach the tower causeway after an hour and a half of effort.

The downside of your climb, and what actually caused you to nearly fall several times are the new arrows sticking out of your back and the backs of your legs. At the top of the causeway you look at the walkway itself and groan in frustration. Though currently inanimate, there are six bodies in much better cared for armor laying there, with arrows sticking out of their skulls. You move over to the quickly, divesting them of weapons, trading up twice, and throwing the others over the side.

Just in time too, it seems as the corpses now each have spirits settling into them. You catch a glimpse of two floating skulls, three ghosts and... fuck, one of those glowing red magma demons before they finish melting into the bodies and raising them. Two newly looted swords in hand, you roar and charge your weaponless opponents. They're stumbling around reaching for swords and bows that aren't there and you quickly cut them down, except for the one animated by the demon. It's not hard, unarmed opponents allowing your form, which boils down to pointy end goes into the other guy, to dispatch them without challenge.

The last body however, bursts into flame and posing, roars at you Hulk style.

You drop to the floor as it charges you, flames pushing it forward into a body slam. The fire hurts, but thankfully it's too stupid to tackle you. You raise a shield and pat out the flames, taking a fireball full on and draining a significant chunk of your mana. You need to end this new opponent quickly, but you don't know if you have the power to deal with this different more powerful type of spirit. This demon.

But... but..! You gained mana from looting the corpse of that last ghost! Perhaps you can do it again? You're only at half mana, not nearly drained like last time... It may make divesting yourself of this body harder, but hell, it's better than the pain of these magical attacks you've been taking the last few hours.

You charge the demon, catching it on your shield and forcing it aside with your rush, heading for the fallen spirits. Ducking and weaving, you crouch by each body and on quick inspection find each fallen spirit and consume them. High on your newfound power and bursting with energy you turn back to the demon, ready to fight...

Wait, where is it? You look around and don't see either a body or the demon you were fighting. You think back to when you fought it and it hits you... You hit it with a bull rush and knocked it back. Right over the edge perhaps?

A fireball flies over the top of your walkway and explodes, answering your question. A quick look over the edge reveals the burning corpse, now a burning skeleton, forming a puddle in the middle of the courtyard sixty feet below you.

You burst out laughing.

You're brimming with energy, your goal is in sight, and you're out of enemies to fight. You head for the door of the tower. Focusing in your glut of power, you try once more to transform, healthy, if somewhat pasty white flesh spreads across your vessels skull, replacing the skin charred from your first contact with the demon. Muscles develop under the flesh, giving it's face articulation, and a proper throat forms. The effect continues to spread, slowing as it gets away from your face, forcing you to shift your focus and think about your memories of anatomy and various body systems. Soon enough you're looking freshly dead... and bald.

It's odd. And uncomfortable, but unimportant at the moment.

You knock on the door, and it opens for you. You enter and close the door. Moving through the outer rooms of the tower you find Avernus once more and Avernus sits up from his bed, looking baffled. "What in the makers name are you doing possessing one of Arland's footmen, outlander?"

"A bit of foolishness," you reply, shaking your head and explaining the situation. Avernus comes over to you and examines the body.

"Fascinating..." he murmurs. "Fascinating..." He looks up at you. "I've seen transformation magic like this before. Once with a Chasind woman, and many more times with abominations. I had not expected it to be so easy to do. Can you feel anything? How far have you taken this spell?"

"I don't feel cold, heat or pressure," you reply, "but spells from the spirits outside hurt like a bitch."

Avernus nodds slowly. "Indeed, indeed. It's oft been theorized that as to why enchanted weapons could allow a normal soldier to fight demons, but significant dismemberment was required to banish a demon otherwise." He looked us up and down, a speculative look on his face. "I did some work, early in my tenure under Commander Dryden, binding spirits to bodies of the fallen but none of it bore any useful fruit. You wouldn't perhaps be interested in testing a fe..."

"No." You reply, a flat finality in your voice. Avernus seems to pout for half a second, but the expression is gone before you can be sure you even saw it. "I don't suppose you knew any means of separating a spirit from it's body? I'll admit that I like the significantly increased mana regeneration this body grants me over being an astral projection in Thedas, but not being able to leave on my own is... unfortunate. God, I never thought I'd say something like that. I'm rather attached to my real body back in the waking world."

Avernus nodded absently. "Indeed, I'm sure you are." He hummed, and went over to his bookshelf and pulled down a thick tome. The pages seemed to be made of a thin creamy leather... and were inked in blood. Fuck, is this guy about to use his worlds version of the necronomicon on you? This may not be the most... sane of choices.

"I have something I'm pretty sure will help you." Avernus replied eventually "but such assistance does not come cheap."

"Spinning lodestones around a piece of metal will produce lightning." You reply, impatiently. "Set it up on a wheel with a crank and any nonmagical civilian can have lightning at their fingertips. In my world we have a million uses for lightning, i'll be happy to tell you about. Now show me what to do."

Avernus blinks at you. Then he smiles, not quite a leer. "That wasn't what I was meaning in terms of price, but I think we're going to have a wonderful friendship."

Pulling out a dagger, he cuts his finger and begins drawing on a piece of velum. "This," he explains, "is a basic summoning contract." You watch him as he draws it. "It creates a hole in the veil between the Fade and Thedas. Such things are generally self repairing and open but for the briefest instants. As such, the spirits you get are generally quite random. More advanced contracts can be made to search for increasingly specific types of demons, those ones of course require progressively larger offerings of blood and spells calling out through the fade. However, If a demon divests the barest portion of their essence into the vellum, they can be summoned anywhere in Thedas, and from anywhere be it in Thedas or in the Fade. This includes pulling them out of bodies. It is a blood mages secret as such research and learning is of course banned by the church. Demons themselves have their own means of vacating possessed forms, though they don't like too, and don't like to share. In most cases, they simply transform possessed bodies to perfectly reflect their chosen forms, rather than vacate, or get forced out when the body is destroyed by an enterprising hero."

Grinning, you take the Vellum and tuck it into your armor. "Thanks professor. I feel alot calmer knowing I've got a way out. Was stupid becoming a zombie in the first place, but it's been informative."

Avernus smiled blandly. "I'd be quite interested to hear everything you observed during the experience." He doesn't seem concerned that you aren't using his necronomicon page, but he's already given you a surefire way out (destroy the body) and a possible way out (interrogate a demon) and of course, the question of what may or may not happen when you wake up at home.

"Sure," you reply shrugging. "I'd be happy to regail you... as soon as we finish our next magic lesson. That shit saved my life I think" you finish with a laugh.

Avernus looked at you reprovingly. "Yes... Dangerous enough to wander the fade as mages are required to do nightly, you had to do something unprecedented on top of that. If you were in danger, it was your own fault." Then he chuckled. "On to your lesson however. You believe yourself to have mastered basic evocation, arcane blast and shield. Show me!" You do so, going through the paces slowly at first while Avernus takes notes, and then faster. He insists on judging your stamina as well, which is currently at 21 arcane bolts before you're near collapse. This also in a short timespan, so your absolute moment to moment Avernus calculate to be 18 shots or two per minute recharge speed.

You'll have to work on that.

It's also alot better than you thought it'd be given not a few hours ago you were dying after three shots, granted you were a spirit in the material world and not because of an anchor. After allowing you some time to recover Avenus continued, taking a sip of conjured wine. "Alright. You've show yourself to be quite talented with the creation tree, so we'll start our next lesson there." With that, Avernus goes into a complicated lecture on manifestation and conjuration, the difference between the two and how both can be applied to heal or bolster the body and provide a variety of support options. For all that the man goes into a deep and detailed lecture on the subject, waxing into one tangent after another and happily and clearly answering your questions, Avernus makes the oddest claim of not being particularly well versed in the subject.

If a litany of over 100 different spells covering four conceptual uses of magic is poorly versed, you shudder to think what a proper education in the subject is.

In the end, Avernus walks you through four spells. The first is healing. His reason being that after being able to recreate most of your current body from a desiccated corpse, being able to close minor wounds should be quite straight forward. As is his teaching method. As the two of you have determined that physical wounds don't actually harm you he hands you a knife and directs you to carve 'your' arm open and seal the wound repeatedly while he observes your progress and makes comments. After an hour of this comes the next spell, Heroic Offense. Heroic offense, like most of the spells in the enhancement spell line of the creation tree relies on using magic to support your own movement. In this case, allowing you to hit things harder. This spell you get down in five minutes, mostly owing to the fact of how you're practicing this already to animate the corpse you're riding in. The final spell is conjuration. Making things out of the fade. In this case, grease. A circle apostates favorite spell he says, because if you're being chased it cannot be countered and can easily be set on fire.

You're rather befuddled as to why your teacher starts you on something as complex as animal fat rather than carbon cubes, but the lesson doesn't take more than an hour before you've created enough grease to have the whole tower smelling like bacon and old lamps burning on every surface.

You didn't summon the lamps, just the oil. That's in a few weeks of lessons away apparently.

Your lessons concluded, the old mage insists you recount your experiences and findings since becoming a spirit. All of them. In detail. Pages and pages of notes are written, much of it you believe to be supposition on the part of Avernus because you're certainly not saying as many words as you've seen him write.

He also seems to have guessed that you're not all that interested in using his means of De-possession and asks you to tell him how it goes when you finally figure it out. Because he wants to publish a paper on the subject. Apparently the churches means of exorcising a ghost is to cut off the victims head. And what kind of church calls themselves a chantry anyways? This is when you realize your thoughts are going in circles and you're feeling rather light-headed.
 
Almost a Nightmare
[ ] Almost a Nightmare

Into Another World Through Social Necromancy
Ch1: Almost a Nightmare


"So you're hiring me?"

"No," Mary said. "I'm asking if you would like to stay on as is. To get more working experience."

Experience stocking shelves? I kept an eye on the monitor to make sure the eponymous boss of the Caul of Armide was going down as planned while I'm afk. Tinny sounds of spells and chain attacks waft from my headset.

"Experience in a work environment," she droned on. "And career development."

"So you're... not hiring me?"

"You would have to show to me why I should hire you even though I could pick up the phone and bring on any number of people wanting to work for their benefits."

Wow!

My breath left me audibly at that moment so I appended a tactful cough to cover it up. I knew she was an ass but still. Fuck you.

"Sure," I said after a pause.

"Can you come in right now? We're short someone right away, just now."

"Tonight? Well actually I'm-"

"We need doers here," she said. "Are you a doer?"

Another pause. "Yeah. Sure," I said, intending to agree because I had to. Why not? Fuck you. Fuck life. Fuck everything.

I knuck punched the End Call button.

Oops.

I leaned back, rolling my eyes, calculating how much that offense would cost but quickly decided it wouldn't amount to more than a self-satisfied, passive aggressive remark on Mary's part. It'd waste a few seconds off the clock anyway. The boss – the one in the game – was done about ten seconds ago (about when that other boss was asking for doers) and the other members of my party were now busy running around or dancing like crazy people.

<rhx for the heals as always>

<You're very welcome.> I typed. <And I'm sorry you didn't get your drop today, Clem.>

<Yeah! Nothing new!>

<rng hates>

<Thanks for the heals. You gonna be running again tonight after reset?>

I apparently have to work so probably not, the sensible part of me thinks. I wonder how many are stuck on this boat of mine. You can tell from appearances they don't put much if any cosmetics money into the game. Does this guy actually need to work but is asking about the reset anyway? Who knew?

<Maybe. Just see if I'm on.>

I play Overtale a lot and when I'm online, I am almost always at 'the Caul'. Now and again, I'll still do events, or expansions when they come out, or even raid; I still sometimes get requests for Basilica, by groups wanting to tank the last leg the dangerous way. Besides that though, I'm usually running the Caul. Like most dungeons, the Caul is designed for a party of five and has rewards that diminish if you run it too often – a daily 'little' reset and a weekly 'big' reset on Tuesdays. Since the main rewards are once a week, most players only run it that often. Me? I'm a fixture. I run so often that a writer for a community site once clumsily interviewed me about it. 'Why do you keep doing it? Is Caul that fun?' Really, it's just a routine. It's a thing I do.

Hira, the 'main' I play almost exclusively in Overtale, started off as a Dancer. The game launched when I was in secondary and I asked a friend to suggest something easy to play. The Dancer has mobility, dodges, and a bit of single target damage to give it some depth, but its main role is passive area-of-effect support, meaning it's almost impossible to be bad with one; stand near your friends and don't die and you're already being reasonably helpful. When class combinations became a thing, I picked up the edgy-as-heck Necromancer and became a Dead Hierophant, which basically everyone except the devs instantly dubbed the 'Necrodancer'. Outside the memes, it's not actually that popular; other combinations just have better numbers or utility in most situations and it introduces some new, potentially contradictory elements into play – now you have to stand near your enemies too and also stand near dead people. However, the Necrodancer's specific mechanics make it infamously overpowered in a very narrow niche – mostly Basilica and Caul. With patience and practice, you can solo the latter, so the run literally cannot fail no matter how bad the rest of the group is; I can occupy myself with reading or arguing with people on the internet, which is what I am actually doing when I appear to be running Caul.

When this latest pickup group broke up, I was, as usual, teleported out of the dungeon into the castle basement of Miroria, the fantasy kingdom sat on top of the Caul. Among the usual list of quests and notifications on the right side of the screen was a new entry.

Title Unlocked: Social Necromancer
(Raise 1,000,000 dead.)
Switch now?

Sure! Why not?

There was one time a while back when I'd counted up the resurrection opportunities inside the Caul. With efficient movement, you can get well over a hundred over the course of the dungeon, which is how Necrodancer can solo heal with passives alone and trivialize the entire thing. Still. One fucking million. I leaned back and closed my eyes. In the past eight years, had I really run Caul nearly nine thousand times?

<><><>

Something's weird.

The first thing I notice is the murmur of a small crowd of people, which is not what I should be waking up to. Had my shitty headset managed to not fall off? When I open my eyes I don't have my PC in front of me either. Instead, there's people. People in the throne room of the Caul of Armide. It's not a dawning realization; I recognize it. I mean, I apparently have been in here almost nine thousand times, so it's as familiar to me as my own room. Mind you it's a bit bigger than that.

My vision starts wild and erratic, darting around as it did into the shadowy recesses of the throne room, gradually revealing a gathering of unfamiliar people as it focused. Bright uniforms. Brass. Floofy sleeves. Men and women with swords and muskets. People and things. There's quite a few people and quite a few things, but their collective mass is still dwarfed by the vastness of the boss room. Right. Obviously, I am dreaming and this is all a little much to take in.

The murmuring dies down as a young woman strides forward confidently, heels clacking against the cracked flagstone floor, to the obvious chagrin of her bodyguards who quickly follow behind. She wears a bright red uniform that is clearly a uniform without actually being uniform with any of the other women's, save they all seem determined to show a hot bit of thigh.

Is that Mary? Is Mary the fucking princess?

"Greetings, Quester! My name-"

"Mary?"

"Ah- Er- I'm sorry?" she stammered.

"Rude!" one of the knights pronounced, before the other gave her a sidelong frown. Medium height with short red hair. Definitely the type of overzealous royal guard who causes diplomatic incidents.

"Sorry," I said, not bothering to suppress my smile. "I don't actually know who you are. I'm somewhat disoriented and you do have a passing resemblence to someone I know. Please continue."

"O- Of course..."

The second royal guard – he's taller with long blue hair, which is obviously indication he's the cooler, more collected, clearer thinking of the two – steps up to clear his throat and salvage the conversation.

"You are in the presence of her royal highness, Mary, second princess of the Kingdom of Miroria..."

Really! So it is actually Mary. A Mary. I lean back, smile some more and nod as he carries on.

"...her highness has performed the Ritual of the Questing Champion, by the ancient methods, and summoned you into this world."

He pauses, frowning until I space back in. It's not truly silent with a small crowd of NPCs fidgeting and staring from the background but it quickly gets a bit awkward, especially with the stupid grin that's crept onto my face. Maybe because it's been a good year and a half since I've run into any new voiced lines, it was hard to pay attention. I glance around at the fading but still pulsing blue magic circle etched on the stone floor around the throne, then take a deep breath as I look back. No response comes to mind. I try to imagine what the dialogue choices might be. 'Air Miles today?' 'Cool. What's the quest?' Suddenly, I also realize I'm still seated while everyone else, including at least one princess, are stood up.

There's another thing too.

See, if you're a Dead Hierophant and your character is male, you are basically Skeletor, or else outright a skeleton with glowing eyes and Lovecraftian tendrils holding you together. Well formed tendrils in the shape of chiseled, finely built muscles, but you know, tendrils. If you're female, well you're obviously going to be a pale vampire woman with only edgy colours available for customization. And the better your gear gets, the less of it there usually is. I look down at myself and confirm I am wearing my usual sustain gear – fantastic stats, commeasurately short on area covered. Then again, this is my dream isn't it? My dream. Well then fuck it. Nobody is here to judge me, or my opinions, my cosplaying, my body, anything. Plus I appear to be in Hira's body anyway and that is as positive a thing as I've been able to make it with Overtale's quite thorough customization sliders over the years.

I stand up, momentarily putting a bit of weight on my staff as I adjust to the longer legs and quite high heels – of being quite high up in general. The NPCs are all still staring at me, but half of them take a step back as well.

"I am Hira, Dead Hierophant... You have summoned me."

I delved back in time through my various drama classes and quickly consider my next line. Damn, your brain never turns quickly enough when you're in the perfect dream. Hopefully we'll get going before it ends as usual.

Murmurs touched off again in the back lines. Scientist and scholar looking types push back glasses, scribbling down notes, or otherwise being in character. I guess this was something they did without being entirely certain it would work, sort of like the Manhattan Project I guess, though obviously it would have been par for the course in the game's setting. This premise of Overtale's did put player characters firmly outside of the game world and its countries' social systems but it did let them make a fun theme park type game without reservations. You play magical heroic space aliens, essentially.

"D-Dead Hierophant?" The princess said.

"Mmhmm."

I nodded, looking down at the princess. On the other hand, muskets, brass and clock or steampunk aesthetics definitely never were a thing. There was a place from the second-to-last expansion featuring magical clockwork stuff but overall, the setting was quite firmly in the fantasy milieu. 'By the ancient methods', Blue Hair had said. Maybe a long time had passed? Was this future Miroria? Possibly!

"I've never heard of that before," the princess said. "Or, well, read of it. I was expecting- I suppose I was expecting a-"

"A man perhaps?" I said, tilting my head. "Someone with a sweeping black coat swinging a sword, or a gentleman in white robes with a staff? Sorry if we seem to have subverted all that."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," I said, glancing at my staff given I seem to be in familiar gear. Sure enough, it's the one I usually carry by default, the Basilica raid drop, Aylesbury Unwaker, a construct of pure, twisted darkness topped by an ever-shifting monstrance and shrouded by a forbidding black mist. Not the sort of subdued equipment expected of gentleman in white robes. Actually, it's about as sinister as you can get without actually mounting a skull on it. All around me, the princess and the throne, scholars and soldiers alike are keeping their distance. Even the royal bodyguards were eyeing it with apprehension. I sweep my gaze over them and try to be imperious. "Still, Miroria must be in dire straits to have summoned one such as me. Are you boys at war or something, I wonder?"

"Ah! We can discuss this somewhere more comfortable! " the princess declared cheerily, raising a finger. Getting comfortable clearly was her forté. "Come! Would you like tea?"

I don't think Necrodancers eat. They are technically undead.

"Okay." I shrug. Not the most imperious of responses. Evidently, even the escorting troops and the two royal guards, glancing at one another, agreed. Again, your brain never turns quickly enough when you're in the perfect dream.

<><><>

The princess ordered a runner to go ahead and get the staff to prepare the 'City Room'. After that, the rest of us followed her at a more sedate pace. Initially, the scholar types had wanted to get involved as well but the princess made it clear that she would be meeting with me first. Alone. Quick scheduling. None of the 'please retire to one of our rooms and rest and we'll chat in the morning after you meet some other important characters over breakfast' – I suppose in that case I'd just wake up and that'd be no fun.

First, it became obvious that the Caul had been sealed away long ago and only very recently reopened. Actually, in the aftermath of the Caul of Armide main story, the surviving princess from that incident had promised to do precisely this. The place held untold power but was also a Lovecraftian nest of undeath – exactly what you'd expect to find under a kingdom running a priests-and-paladins theme. Besides, what else would you do with a jar of dark powers? Break it out and use it?

After passing through a section of catacombs, rubble floors and freshly dug walls, we entered the castle as it was now, a mixture of palatial corridors and low and narrow passageways. Add hundreds of years from the game and the place now looked as I'd have expected it to look. There were a fair number of soldiers around, some in armour but most not. A double row blocked off where I remember the main section of the castle to be. Others had cordoned off the path we were taking but I still got glimpses of gossiping servants, apprehensive faces and in one case, as we ascended a grand staircase, a woman being tackled to the ground behind us, trying to break through the lines. She yelled 'Highness! Highness!' a few times before her face was pressed to the floor and the words were no longer audible. When I looked at the princess's face, she was wincing. I smiled, not entirely certain how things would play out.

The 'City Room', sure enough, overlooked the city around the castle. I'd guessed from the change in milieu that the city too would have changed. Rather than a small yet loosely spaced fantasy city, it was a compact mess of torchlit brick and rooftops almost touching. The old city walls were barely recognizeable silhouettes in the fading light, having had new gates torn into it and much of its remaining length incorporated into newer buildings. Entire new districts had been added beyond the reach of the few familiar avenues. A narrow row of buildings had even sprouted along the length of one of them, dividing the highway into two narrow lanes. A haze hung in the air and I'm pretty sure some of the fires were not burning where they were supposed to. The compacted streets made it hard to see what was going on even from above but the noise and bobbing torchlights made it obvious.

"Nice," I said, looking out over the smoggy mess.

"R-Really? I mean-"

"No, I don't actually mean it."

"I see..."

I could see in the window reflection that she was fidgeting in her seat behind me, waiting for me to come back and have a seat. I remembered to be imperious this time though, so I stayed standing by the window.

"So?"

"Let me start," she said, instantly putting herself at ease. I could hear the clink of her teacup. "Actually I'm not entirely sure where to start. It's a very complicated issue-"

"Well you are having riots," I observed. "Maybe start there?"

"Miroria is currently amidst a financial crisis. Multiple chancellors – that is, officials who manage our finances – have found that there is no way to collect any more taxes than are being collected now. So- Am I being overly-"

"No. Go on."

"Right. Proposals were made to remove ancient exceptions to taxation given to the temples and the nobility of the land. For obvious reasons, this has not been a popular proposal at court. This is why we've had a number of chancellors recently as his majesty has had no choice but to dismiss them for further opinions."

"I think your father should probably just listen to the unpopular opinion."

"It's not that simple."

Of course not. Nothing about economics ever is, is it?

"In any event. As a result, my father, the King, summoned the Parliaments of the kingdom. Do you know what a Parliament-?"

"No," I lied.

In the window reflection, I saw her blink at my abrupt reply.

"Uh... To put it simply, it's a gathering of representatives chosen by people from all walks of life in Miroria. They don't come together often but having the backing of the Parliaments would have given my father the backing needed to convince the court to reform."

'Would have.' I could see where this was going.

"Unfortunately, once the Parliaments had gathered they didn't see eye to eye with my father or each other. In fact, it's turned unexpectedly into a standoff. If nothing's done my father intends to order the royal guard to the hall where they're gathered and make them agree."

"O...kay? Sounds solid," I blurted. Oops.

"No! That's what I'm trying to prevent!"

I turned and raised my brow at the princess's indignation, then smiled.

"Oh. I see. So you're trying to be a benevolent princess, is what you're saying."

"Of course!"

"So this is how you went about it, huh? This isn't a bad dream."

"Thank you. I read a lot of old texts, not just sorcery but history as well. Did Questers not resolve issues like this in ancient times as well? Will you help?"

'We' of course did. Things like this were usually fairly boring. Talk to the right people in the right order or have the right item in your inventory and then miraculously, the antagonist NPC sees things your way. In the worst case, it was just a matter of going somewhere, talking to them, and skipping through the dialogue.

"Just to make sure we're clear. You want me to resolve the crisis somehow so your father the king won't send in troops to do it."

"Yes, exactly so!"

"Okay."

"Eh?"

She had a precious look on her face. Maybe the word 'okay' still threw her off, but she must have finally realized for a moment that she might have gotten in over her head. That's sort of the classic downfall of summoners isn't it? You mistake your desires for problems so you summon a thing only to realize it's the wrong thing.

And then she was dying. She fell forward, heaving as she tried to prop herself upright over the table, throwing up first blood and then black ichor, eyes wide and shivering in disbelief. Death from her own mouth tainting her tea. Being promoted from Dancer, the Dead Hierophant has a lot of passive area-of-effect abilities; Dead Aura drains the life of all mobs within a certain distance of line of sight and regenerates your own. It doesn't tick for very much on the whole but against something much lower level, it'll obviously kill within seconds.

"I will take on your 'quest', princess. I don't usually like problems that aren't 'that simple' but I have a solution that is. I will wash Miroria castle in blood and massacre everyone in here to the last child. That will make finances much simpler I'm sure."

Actually, the best way would have been to kill the king and then she'd be Queen. Whoops. Too late. Inconsistencies. What number along the line of succession was she anyway? Besides, this is much more satisfying. I'm supposed to be at work. Work at night. Work I don't get paid for. Work that will never end as long as I live. Work to make other people rich. I hate life. So right now, I just want to murder lots of people until I wake up.

The princess falls out of her chair, twitching. I head for the great double doors and reach for the handls when one of them is suddenly yanked open from the other side. Awkward no matter the circumstances.

"Awkard," I snerk as the royal knights on the other side stare down at the princess

"!"

I swing my staff in a hurry. It's much too quick for him to react to, almost too quick for me to realize myself. Red hair starts a syllable and then it turns into a crunch as I pound his skull in. Not very cool or imperious, but highly effective. He topples, face a red mash, eyeballs hanging out of their sockets. Almost nightmarishly gruesome except I'm not having a nightmare. I stride through the doors, black smoke and intense shadows radiating out. The knights following Red Hair double over, throwing up blood and ichor. Blue hair vomits blood too but manages to turn and run, even shout. He's almost incoherent, but coherence is a luxury here as I my heels sink into blood-soaked carpets in the bright, gaslit halls of the castle. The maids down the way don't need to be coherent, they just need to scream and run. The servant down the other direction does the same as the knights who fell to the ground around me moaned and shambled back to their feet, eyes glowing with black power.

I raise a bridal gauntleted arm and wave – imperiously.

"Kill everyone who stands before you. Leave none alive!"

I turn and walk down the hall as my minions scatter, in the direction where the double row of soldiers had blocked off the main great hall. I assumed the king would be there. That was also the direction where Blue Hair had gone. It would be disappointing to wake up now. At one room, a rotund man burst out the door trying to ambush me with a sword. Good on him. He dropped to the ground, dead before a single swing. In another room, my zombies had gone ahead and cornered a terrified girl. As I passed the doorway, her screams turned from ones of panic to ear-splitting ones of unspeakable agony.

"Okay. Fuck. Jesus. Stop!"

The zombies shambled back, distended jaws bloody. The woman, elaborate dress and all, fell like a rag doll in the corner, bleeding, dying, looking up at me and the undead in disbelief until I raised my hand and hurriedly healed her into a gentle unconsciousness.

"Okay. Like. Not while I'm in earshot that makes them scream like that? That is too much," I declared, unsure how complex an instruction zombies could manage. This was almost a nightmare.

<><><>

When I arrived at the doors to the main area of the castle, to their credit the royal guards hadn't abandoned the post. As I strode around the corner black magical power bleeding out in an aura of shadow and smoke, the front row immediately knelt down and both rows levelled their muskets. Blood still trickling down his face, Blue Hair was there, arm raised, then arm down.

Deafening explosions thundered down the corridor, making me wince. Fuck these fucking muskets are loud. The air instantly fills with soot and sulfurous smoke. Black powder. One bullet hits me in the navel but doesn't seem to do much damage. I surged forwards with Shadow Dance. Lights dim and the bangs from the second row go muted. Bullets are now flitting harmlessly through me as I've briefly turned into a glob of black smoke, darting towards their formation. A second later, I'm in amongst them and they're all falling to the ground, grasping at themselves. Vomiting blood, dying with contorted faces. I look down at Blue Hair's heart in my hand as the rest of him topples over. Definitely a rated eighteen level of ultraviolence. Almost a nightmare, this, except I'm the one causing it. Held lanterns fall and overturn. Fires spread. Screaming and yelling. Everyone left alive is running away. Somewhere, a bell is ringing wildly. Whether it means 'Intruder!' or 'Fire!' I'm not entirely sure.

Almost a nightmare.

Alone with a pile of corpses in front of the grand hall doors, I crouch down and give Blue Hair's face a ginger poke. My finger indents the still elastic skin. The head wobbles limply before settling back the way it was. Forget Overtale but a game made this year wishes it were this vivid.

Almost a nightmare.

My smile is a nervous one. I think my heart would be thumping about now. Should be, but I don't have one. Hira doesn't have one. I stand up, looking around at the low, medieval ceilings of the passages connected to the high, palatial ones in the corridors. The clicks of my heels echo over the crackle of scattered flames. I approach one of the wall mounted gas lamps, hearing the hiss and sputter. Feeling the heat against my face and then my hand as I give it a touch. The glass is hot. The brass is hot. The vividness of the blinding bright, dancing flame entrances me.

Strangely real.

I glance around, looking around for anyone. Of course, nobody is in sight of me. I'm not sure why I'm even looking. But suppose it were possible that this was real and I have just done all this to real, living people. It's not like I'd be asking for directions.
 
[1] All Roads
[2] Falling Far
[3] Afterlife
[4] Lonely DReams
[5] Almost a Nightmare
 
Last edited:
[1] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[2] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[3] Blooming Afterlife
[4] Travel
[5] Ushinawareta Shoujo Sophia

Edited to comply with the ranked-vote instructions in the other thread. Someone should really post those instructions here in the voting thread so we know before voting.
 
Last edited:
[1] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[2] Love and Cats
[3] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[4] Scars
[5] More Sophisticated Magic.
 
[1] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[2] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[3] Return from Isekai: A blade in the dark – Emma
[4] Work Hard, Play Hard (I reincarnated as a living doll?!!)
[5] More Sophisticated Magic
 
[1] All Roads
[2] More Sophisticated Magic
[3] Love and Cats
[4] Travel
[5] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
 
Last edited:
[1] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[2] Travel
[3] Chrysalis of Capgrass
[4] All Roads
[5] Work Hard, Play Hard (I reincarnated as a living doll?!!)
 
[1] Almost a Nightmare
[2] Work Hard, Play Hard (I reincarnated as a living doll?!!)
[3] Death Maid of the Revolution
[4] Travel
[5] Blooming Afterlife
Adhoc vote count started by King_Rule on Jun 6, 2018 at 10:54 AM, finished with 45 posts and 2 votes.

  • [X] All the Stars in the Sky
    [X] All Roads
    [X] Falling Far
    [X] Afterlife
    [X] Lonely DReams
    [X] Almost a Nightmare

Adhoc vote count started by King_Rule on Jun 6, 2018 at 10:55 AM, finished with 45 posts and 2 votes.

  • [X] All the Stars in the Sky
    [X] All Roads
    [X] Falling Far
    [X] Afterlife
    [X] Lonely DReams
    [X] Almost a Nightmare

Adhoc vote count started by King_Rule on Jun 6, 2018 at 10:55 AM, finished with 45 posts and 2 votes.

Adhoc vote count started by King_Rule on Jun 6, 2018 at 10:56 AM, finished with 45 posts and 2 votes.
 
[1] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[2] So this is my life now, being a living battery in an unknown world
[3] Lonely Dreams
[4] Almost a Nightmare
[5] Shiny
 
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[1] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[2] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[3] The Urban Barbarian
 
[1] <<Hereafter>>
[2] Travel
[3] All the Stars in the Sky
[4] Return from Isekai: A blade in the dark - Emma
[5] I am the human!
 
[1] <<Hereafter>>
[2] I am the human!
[3] Falling Far (From The Tree Is Fine, but This Is a Little Extreme)
[4] Record of the Inherited Memory Girl's Efforts
[5] Work Hard, Play Hard (I reincarnated as a living doll?!!)
 
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