High school, a place where some considered to have spent their glory years at, is a formative experience. Some people can never let it go, having peaked during their time there and constantly yearn for a return to youth, structure, and fleeting schoolyard popularity. Those that attend high school either graduate and move onto different pastures, linger in their high school memories, or drop-out to be subjected to life's fickle whims.
High school, hell to some, heaven to others, and just a mere moment in time for most.
And yet, some unknown force is abducting individuals from across existences to force them into its own strange idea of high school. They are forced to pantomime as students and teachers, under the threat of being sent to Detention. As more and more are forcibly enrolled into this high school, de-aged and their powers reduced, cliques and clubs form with differing agendas on how to navigate this strange place.
Is there any hope to escape? Can the students graduate out of this high school purgatory, or will they forever be subjected to white picket fence homes, stale cafeteria food, and homework?
This is a rewrite of one of my earlier projects: The Infectious High School AU. And this is the index, where I sort the cast for each chapter.
One of the problems, I feel, with multi-crosses is that it becomes overly bloated. It's why I segmented my other big project into short, standalone stories. Because of this typical bloat, it becomes hard to find which characters and series take prominence when and where. Like you find a multiple crossover with a series you like, and they either don't matter till far in the story or they have a bit part. Unlike my other project, I can't simply segment everything into standalone stories. Hence me using this index to mark characters appearance in the chapters by prominence. It is a mitigating solution, but I hope it keeps everything nice and tidy. Of course, I'll also simply mark the cast for each chapter in the A/N. The index's main purpose is to showcase which chapters focus on who. I'll probably even sort by arc when it reaches that point.
Main Cast are basically the POVs, Major Cast is basically the important side cast, and Minor Cast is for characters that have small roles.
A/N: As always, special, special thanks to @Ziel for looking this over and continually tolerating my nonsense. Appreciate ya. And credit to ramenmom on Tumblr for her suggestion to use Trevor Belmont for the Detention POV scene, which I initially struggled with to find the right POV.
Main Cast
Max Caufield from Life is Strange
The Operator from Warframe
Trevor Belmont from Castlevania
Major Cast
The Fourteenth Doctor from Doctor Who
Dave Strider from Homestuck
Anby Demara from Zenless Zone Zero
Minor Cast
Klaus Heisler from American Dad!
Pyramid Head from Silent Hill
Existence snapped into Maxine — Max, never Maxine — Caulfield with all the suddenness of whiplash. Her sense of self jolted and drowned beneath her skin, as she was torn for one place to another. It was the time of shock that went beyond the merely spatial and into something soul-deep. At first, she thought time had finally pushed back. After so much trouble and pain, she just wanted to do the right thing. The nightmare she had fled from had deposited her into something far more stranger. Her stomach churned and her vision whirled, as her place in the world became defined. She blinked away the darkening spots of blurry and burning moments of time. Some part of her tried rewinding on instinct, but it wasn't like all the times her power fluctuated or otherwise failed. Those times were like brushing up against a brick wall; this was like nothing else existed beyond this present point in time. Time simply didn't exist and that single brush of nothing felt like annihilation.
Whatever happened, it might have not been her fault. The storm that was due to hit Arcadia Bay was a consequence of her meddling in time. Whether she liked it or not, that storm felt like an intimate disaster that only those involved could know. This very second in time felt like an alien world that she got stranded on. Max pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to swallow the bile coming back up. The urge to bolt was strong, but her legs refused to budge. No, that wasn't quite right. Something was puppeteering her legs, pistoning them one after another. Stiff muscles moved like rusted gears. The spots in her vision gave way to shadowy figures marching in step with her. Front and back, she was but another shadow. Something thrashed within her body, raging in the streams of her blood and building in her lungs. Yet, her body continued to move in unison with all the rest. Her eyes tried to dart around, to gather some semblance of information. That too was denied. She couldn't even move her eyes!
The lockstep continued, eyes focused entirely on the shadow figure in front of her. There was a split second, however, in which she got a glimpse of her arm: half-steeped in shadow. Anxiety reached its tipping point, spilling over. She could feel the gushing mess seize her heart, but it didn't stop there. Like crashing waves, it splashed onto the shores of her stomach, pushing it down until it was like a tense coiled spring. Stomach acid scaled her throat. She immediately locked onto a nearby trashcan, trying to hurl into a black plastic bag in the plastic maw. But there was nothing to expel.
She heaved once, twice, and then whipped away the tears. Max steeled herself, one hand lifting from the rim and fingers flexing slightly — ready to turn back time if need be. Whirling around, she threw out her hand as if to ward off any potential threats. The shadows paid her no mind, continuing their single-minded trek. Above, florescent lights buzzed over tiled floors and lines of lockers. The lockers stretched on and on, and looking to both the left and right, only broken up by the occasional door. Max watched the shadows, whose movements reminded her of ants except they were eerily close to being human.
Cautiously, she lowered her hand, but still kept her guard up. Side-eyeing the shadows, she began quickly examining the number plates.
No, numbers. All blank. It's like a ghost-town here. Max turned back to the line. With literal ghosts.
The sardonic thought didn't give her much joy. Come on, Mad Max. What are ghosts to a time traveler?
But the dead had a way of haunting the living, phantasms or no.
She cautiously stepped toward the line, hand first. Her fingers curled and uncurled, as if they couldn't decide whether to listen to her or not. The first brush of touch felt like nothing at all. The second time, the fingers dipped into the shade and past the skin, but they could go no further than her joints.
"It's like jello..." she muttered to herself.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Max yelped, leaping back as though electrified by the new voice. Standing a little ways away was a teenage girl, standing half way in the line. She shambled in tune with the line, halfheartedly. Strange gray scars ran across both sides of her dark face, and she wore a white vest over a hard-plated material. It was like she was a cross between a high-school girl and something, well, bad-ass.
"Um..." Max hesitated, unable to decide if she should step closer or not. "Is it okay for me to ask why?"
"The place here likes its rules, and its consequences for breaking them." The girl blinked. "You seem familiar..."
Max seemed to sway toward her. "Yeah... feeling some deja vu but..."
But does that mean anything when you can turn back time?
She could hear something tapping, metal on metal. The girl seemed oblivious to the sound until Max turned to look at the alarm up on the wall. The circle of red metal remained absolutely still yet Max could clearly light tapping on it. The sound felt ominous, like a harbinger for something harder and louder.
"You should really get in line," the girl commented.
After a split second moment to make her choice, she took a large step back in line and moved along next to her.
"I'm, uh, Max." She held out her hand awkwardly.
"Call me Tenno. Or Operator. Either one works." Tenno returned the handshake.
Those are some weird names, but I guess I shouldn't judge.
"What is this place? What do you mean there are rules to this place? How did we get here?" Max took a breath. "Sorry for all the questions."
A soft chuckle. "Don't worry. But I'm afraid I won't have much answers for you. Just solutions on how to survive here."
"How long have you been here?"
"Maybe a day, but..." Tenno ran a hand through her hair. "It felt like forever. The deja vu feeling isn't helping out either. It's like I'm experiencing a fraction of what the Drifter did."
That last sentence was tossed as an quiet aside, loaded with history that Max was not privy to. Max could awkwardly spiral the conversation into nowhere in particular. Right now, she needed something relevant to her current situation. There were about four questions she could maybe ask, and only enough time to ask one. The line was quickening its pace and rounding a turn about fifty feet from their position.
"Where are we going?" she decided to ask.
"Cafeteria. We need to eat. You're not gonna get any other opportunity, as far as I know."
They started to round the corner, which felt like a point of no return. Like the moment she rounded the corner, it would be a point of no return. She barely managed to grasp the rules of her own powers, let alone this strange place until she realized something Max almost wanted to slam a hand on her forehead. She could reverse time and ask all the questions she needed to ask. Max reached out and started to tug at time, until it snapped back and smacked her in the face. It was so visceral that she actually stumbled back, coughing up blood and a trickle of red running down her nose. Tenno was by her side, holding her gently.
"You tried using your powers, huh?"
Max pressed her sleeve against her lips and wiped away the blood. Red stained the gray hoodie sleeve. "How did you know?"
"Because I suffered the same effect too."
"You're also a time traveler?"
Tenno looked at her and snorted. "In a way, in a way... but either way, there are conditions in which we can use our powers. I just haven't exactly figured out what they are."
The shadows shuffled on through a set of double doors and into a large, spacious cafeteria. Rows upon rows of tables filled out the room, far more than any typical school needed. Shadows gravitated toward the lunch line, grabbed a tray, got their food tossed haphazardly, and then plopped themselves onto the benches attached to the tables.
"The fish is new," Tenno commented.
"What do you mean fish..."
And then Max saw it — a goldfish, in a tiny cup of water, holding a ladle with one flipper and a cigarette in the other. And there was a little hairnet over its head. It made absolutely zero logistical sense, yet-
"What, you never seen a talking fish before?"
Max shook her head, trying to ward off the daze. "This can't be real."
"You guys are so unappreciative of this gruel!" The fish spoke with a faux-German accent. He punctuated this point by swinging the slop onto a shadow's tray. "It's like you're a bunch of zombies or something!"
Tenno was up first, handing a tray to Max before grabbing one for herself, and they were now in front of the fish. Behind the glass window, there was only gruel that seemed bottomless and bubbling.
"Now I can tell you two are ladies of taste! Please enjoy!" Unlike all the other times, he gently poured them a nice dollop of food.
Tenno nodded her thanks and Max tried not to stare.
"Get a move on! You're holding up the lunch line!" He took a drag of the cigarette and blew out smoke perilously close to the food.
Max took the hint and quickly skedaddled after Tenno. They took a seat near the window and Max stared out into the world. Whenever she stared through the lens of a camera, it was like the world was focused to its core pieces. A photographer knew when to snap a shot when those pieces aligned just right. A window was much the same… most of the time. Outside the window here was what should have been a normal courtyard, but the proportions were all wrong. Her own memories of high school and its size was one of modesty. Even so, even a large high school would have paled in comparison to the size on display here. As vast as the courtyard was —with a lawn twice the size of a football field— the buildings that lined around it were a different story.
Though they only had three floors, their length was almost comically absurd were it not for the fact that it just went on and on. After a certain point, it just became daunting that it just didn't stop. The grilled windows made this place out to be a prison. And just peaking over the roofs were hints of even more buildings. Above that were dark clouds, denying them even the hint of sunlight and casting everything under a sheen of darkness.
She expected there to be more of those shadows outside, but they were all inside and they seemed to avoid sitting at the same table as them. Tenno picked up a spoon and started eating. Max picked the plastic white spoon, poked at the colorless gruel, and scooped up a small bit. She stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the liquid. It didn't taste like anything at all. She took a bite, and only felt mildly nourished from it.
"So... uh, what do I need to know?"
Tenno answered in-between bites. "There are rules to this place. Chief of which is that you have to be in the right place at the right time. If you don't, then you get sent to Detention."
"That sounds bad."
"It probably is. All I know is that if you're not in class or the cafeteria, you get taken. I saw a group try to fight back. It was not pretty." She shook her head sadly. "And since my powers are unreliable, I find it best not to risk it."
"How do you know where to go?"
"You should have a schedule in your backpack."
Max patted at her side, realizing that she no longer possessed her shoulder bag. Instead she suddenly became aware of the shoulder straps weighing down on her. She took it off and placed her backpack onto the table next to the food. There was a small twinge of nostalgia, looking back at her old high school pack. Her hands could feel the shape of her Polaroid camera and a sense of relief washed over her. But that wasn't important right now. Reaching in, she found a slip of paper nestled between two notebooks. Pulling it out, she saw the schedules that were given out at the start of a school year. Most of the information was blank, including the school, address, and other information. She was listed as Maxine Caulfield, her gender, birthday, but nothing else. No school ID number, no grade, or the name of the school. There was no personal address for herself.
There were only six classes, but the last one was the only one not blank.
Calendar:Variable
Course Title:H Chronometry
Teacher:Doctor
Room:DW1963
Tenno leaned forward and took a glance at the schedule. "Looks like we got the next class together."
"But isn't lunch right before the last two periods of school?"
Tenno spread out her hands in a 'what can you do' gesture. "Does any of this make sense?"
"I guess not."
The conversation lapped into silence, as the two ate the tasteless food. Max's thoughts turned to Chloe, and that nightmarish breakdown of reality that she had escaped from moments prior. How much of that other Max from the nightmare was right? That all of this might be her fault. All because she wanted to do the right thing. Yet all her good deeds started to feel selfish. She didn't want to hurt anyone and she wanted to save Chloe too. Choices were meant to be taken with the consequences, yet Max seemed to be stand outside that dynamic. With her power, she could change things and avoid the consequences of her actions.
All except the storm.
Frustration welled up wet and blurry in her eyes. She didn't want Chloe to die, yet if she were to let her to die... if that was to stop the storm and fix things... well, what did these last few days actually meant? Max already abandoned Chloe when her dad died, because of her own selfish feelings and anxiety prevented her from keeping in touch. If Chloe's death fixed things, then Max was left with only the memories of her choices and none of the consequences. She got to spend time that Chloe would never have, love her and never be loved back. Chloe would be dead, thinking she died alone. And that felt so extremely selfish. Not as much as choosing Chloe over the Bay... but it felt like all she did was take from Chloe and gave nothing back. As much as the other Max wanted to paint Chloe as selfish and just using her, Max was just desperately trying to make up for abandoning her.
"Are you okay?" Tenno asked, breaking her from the spiral.
"I feel like this might all be my fault," she blurted out, trying to hide the tears.
The confession didn't make things any lighter. If anything, the weight bore down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
"How?"
"I broke time to save Chloe! I had gotten these powers and used them to undo her death... there were consequences for that. And maybe I even caused us to be trapped in this place."
Tenno gently put aside her tray and focused her attention onto Max. Not in an intense way, but something soft and gentle.
"I don't think this place was caused by you. It's more likely a place formed in the Void like Duviri."
That didn't mean anything to Max, and she shrunk just a bit into herself.
Tenno picked up on that and changed tracks. "Who's Chloe to you?"
"She's..." Max knew the safe answer was 'best friend' but that wasn't the honest answer. "I love her."
"Then you never stop fighting for her." Now there was the expected intensity. It was spoken with the fervor that only someone who knew love and loss could know. "When the world wants to take the people you love... never lose hope, never give into despair and indifference."
"I... don't want to hurt anyone trying to save her."
"Someone always gets hurt, but you can only act in accordance with your own honor. Always try to do the right thing."
"Sometimes that isn't enough." It came out in a pained whisper.
"Sometimes it isn't enough," Tenno echoed. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you want a hug?"
Max tried to gather herself, but couldn't rally herself. She ended up giving a tight nod. Tenno moved around from her side of the table and sat next to Max, giving her a reassuring hug. Even though Tenno was a smaller girl than her, there was a sense of surety and age in the embrace. It was the type of hug that said 'things are gonna be okay, and if not, it'll be okay one day.' She breathed out the anxiety and fear, and let herself return the hug. At the very least she wasn't alone in this nightmare, and maybe she even made a new friend.
The two trudged down the halls. Luckily they didn't have to stay in formation like before. Apparently that was only applicable in going to the cafeteria. Tenno didn't exactly know the way, but there was maps posted near each corner which were equally as nonsensical as this entire situation. The paper the map was printed on was clearly pristine even as it was displayed behind dirty glass, except it didn't give any hint of the structure at large. Instead it only showed the current hallway, several doors that were unmarked, but at the end of the turns and twists was DW1963. It was like this place was guiding them to where they needed to go. The passing period was only six minutes long, but Tenno didn't seem concerned. It seemed that so long as they walked toward their destination, they would make it in time.
"Typically when I followed the schedule I was given," Tenno was saying, "There was nobody else in the room. Not even any shadows. We'll be able to collect ourselves, and maybe formulate a plan to escape."
"How?"
"Some of the classrooms allowed me to use my powers. Maybe between the two of us, we can figure something out."
"Well... what are your powers?"
The question was almost exhilarating. Max didn't know anyone else with powers, and it seemed that Tenno had something entirely different than her time travel powers. Even if it was out of the 'norm' — and the norm went out the window long ago — it was comforting to know that someone like her existed. It made her feel less alone, and in such an empty place, that meant leaps and bounds.
"Well, I get my powers from the Void —"
"You mentioned that before. What's the Void—"
There was a grinding sound that cut the conversation short. Tenno stepped in front of Max, instinctively and protectively. Her small frame didn't cover much, but that didn't matter when her presence loomed larger than her physical form.
"It'll be okay. Just don't draw its attention," she whispered.
Max saw the tip of its mask first as the thing rounded the corner. The metal material was marked by rust, scratches, and dried blood. A strong figure wearing a giant pyramid-shaped helmet lumbered toward them. Max clung close to the wall, Tenno moving in tune with her. A palatable sense of dread dripped onto her, bit by bit. Her heart thrummed in her chest, beating so loudly that she could feel it thundering in her ears. The figure inched closer and closer, slow yet purposeful. Behind him — it — was a large blade, being dragged along. Sickly red barbed wire traced behind the tip of the blade like paint being left behind by the brush. It faded just as quickly, as if it was never there at all.
"It's not gonna attack us... right? We haven't done anything wrong..."
"I think..." Tenno said slowly, eyes honed in as it moved past them. "If it's out and about, it's tracking someone down. Someone that broke the rules."
"What is it?" Max swallowed down some of the fear, as it continued past them.
"I have no idea. I think it's a conceptual embodiment of some terrible emotion, but that's just speculation."
"Should we follow? Try to help whoever it's tracking?"
"If our powers would work, I'd say most definitely. But as it stands, we'll just get sent to Detention along with whatever poor soul that broke the rules. I don't know if I can't help them. But I know I can help you. In time... maybe we can help everyone else."
The notion that they were leaving someone in trouble made her feel ill, but what could the two of them possibly do? At the very least, Tenno was right about needing to make a plan. This whole place was a nightmare that could ensnare them possibly even deeper. She followed after Tenno, glancing back every now and again. The pyramid-headed figure grew smaller and smaller as the distance grew and grew.
Max hoped that whoever was in trouble would be alright in the end.
He was young again. Roughly around teenager age, just on the cusp of finishing his training. That much was a surprise, even as the environment around him was unfamiliar. Strange settings and sinister shadows, however, were nothing new to Trevor Belmont. On instinct, he reached for his whip — the Vampire Killer, but his fingers grasped nothing. He exhaled, frustrated, and his fist clenched. A few swears ran through his mind, but he otherwise remained stoic. Was this Dracula's work? The Dark Lord had been defeated by his hand and the subsequent attempt at resurrection foiled by Hector.
As he continued to search for anything of use on his person, Trevor found that his outfit had been modified. The white coat he had been wearing was changed. Different material. Smaller. It didn't reach past his waist, and there was a hood attached to it. It was nothing less than some obscure foreign fashion. But outfits were inconsequential. Trevor wore what he wore.
What mattered was that there was no dagger, no Sacred Water, Banshee Boomerang, or Pocket Watch. Though he had a fancy sack strapped to his back, it was devoid of anything useful. It didn't mean he was completely helpless. And unless there was some powerful force suppressing his will to fight, he would remain the stalwart fighter that he always was. Trevor couldn't recall how he arrived at this place. He could only assume that he was in enemy territory and the forces of darkness had swept him up in some unseen plot.
He strode forth, making sure his fists were ready to swing at the first swing of trouble. Metal cabinets with locks lined the walls, broken up by locked doors. He tried opening them, but every one he encountered was locked. Each attempt, he could hear a metallic tapping sound in the back of his head increase in its intensity. It started as the beat of a hummingbird's wings to distant war drums.
It provoked an urgency within him. The next door he smashed his elbow through the window to peak through, and he found nothing but blackness. Just sheer darkness. Bleak and never-ending. This practically confirmed that some vile magics were at work. Urgency was thrumming inside his chest, like the thrill of battle was about to be upon him. Then he heard the sound stepping over the line from mental abstraction to physical vibrancy. The sound was coming from a small metal circle high on the wall, rattling with a fury that determined to make him deaf.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he practically bounced off the walls looking for something to give him an edge. And then he found it. A weapon encased behind a box with a glass cover upon the wall. Behind it was a wooden handle topped off with a blunt piece of metal on one side. It was no battle axe, but an axe all the same.
He smashed through the box and pulled out the axe, testing it out with a few hefts from side to side.
It'll do.
Then he heard a new sound lacing through the pounding of the miniature bell. The grating of metal on metal, and rounding the corner was a monster in the shape of a man. A large pyramid mask, stained with rust and blood, lumbered around the corner. Dragged behind the muscular form of the beast was a large blade. Unwieldy in the hands of a normal man, perhaps, but if the creature possessed incredible strength then it could do a terrible amount of damage.
The axe was at his feet he kicked up, letting it spin through the air before letting it rest on his shoulder.
"Whatever vile master you work for, they won't defend you from my righteous wrath. Have at you!"
He charged forward, hands wrapped around tight around the axe. The creature continued to move without urgency, ponderous and slow. Trevor ducked under the first heavy-handed swing, weaving around to the creature's blindspot. The first swing struck behind the knee. The axe head dug in deep, but the impact didn't feel like a normal blow. It should have felt more like hitting a slab of meat instead of trying to break down a wall. It took him a second longer than it should have to pull it out, and that left him open. The creature spun around with a backhand, sending Trevor flying into a wall. He bounced off it and left a sizable dent behind him.
He rolled back onto his feet, letting the weapon fall to his side.
"Hrgh..." He wiped away the blood from his mouth. Red stained the glove. With how weakened he was, Trevor was surprised that he wasn't bisected in half. But there was still some damage down inside. It didn't feel fatal, but the pain was something else. "I'm slower than I usually am. That won't help you."
Trevor needed to pivot to a different strategy. It seemed like the creature followed suit, slamming that huge blade down to the ground. He seized upon that opening and threw the axe, aiming for the shoulder. Trevor charged after it. His intent was to disarm the creature of the weapon so they could fight on more even grounds. But the creature stepped back, painting the ground with a bloody river with squirming sharp lines.
Trevor hopped over it, just as the axe slammed atop the creature's shoulder. Mid-leap, Trevor made a grab for it and prepared to let gravity do most of the work. He needed to wrench the creature away from the blade. He managed to swing around the creature, using the handle as leverage. The swirling dance between the two was a pitiful maneuver in this weakened body of his. He would have wrenched the creature to its knees and delivered a devastating blow.
Instead he planted his feet back down and smashed his foot into the creature's chest. The axe came loose, still in Trevor's grip, and he stumbled back a single step. Just the one. The very edge of his heel touched that red river. Instantly something started to bite in and out from his body, like worms infesting a rotten apple. It gnawed at his focus, but he still managed to duck under another swing. Then came the blunt ram of a kick, which Trevor met in kind. The sheer power in the creature's simple attack caused Trevor to trip. The creature loomed over him, raising the blade underhanded. Even if it was a matter of inches, the stabbing motion would cut deep.
Trevor moved. The blade didn't plunge into his chest, but it touched his ankle. That was enough. The squirming sensation that dipped in and out of his skin intensified, now devouring, and he fell into darkness. He slammed onto his shoulder hard. Trevor groaned, rolling onto his back, unseeing. Even as the shadows swam over everything, he could feel his strength return. He hissed with a bitter mix of pain and pleasure. His shoulder was dislocated, but that didn't matter. Here in the dark, for whatever reason, he felt somewhat close to his old self. He laughed to himself as he relocated his shoulder, rolling it around to feel for any damage. Standing back up, he wobbled as he couldn't even be sure of the ground beneath his feet. The ground didn't feel particularly solid. The darkness continued to assail his vision, determined to make him blinder than he already was. There was a strange pressure too, like his heart might pop out of his chest.
That was when the screams and howls and other beastly noises started up. No... the more he dwelt in the darkness, the more he could tell that it was always there. The pressure nearly drove him to his knees, but it seemed to fall away in an uneasy equilibrium when he took a step. Then one after another. The pressure didn't go away, but it became manageable with movement. Whatever this was, it seemed to whittle away at his soul. Though his strength had returned, but the exhaustion remained. The noises were moving closer. What a cruel mechanism.
He needed to escape. The more he started to move, the more everything took an ethereal and abstract shaping. Corridors formed, wispy and smoke-like. He pressed a hand against it, and the solidity contrasted with the utter nothingness behind it. It was clear that this was a maze of sorts.
"More games..." He grunted with frustration.
Trevor took a deep breath, before sprinting forward into the darkness. The animal sounds didn't abate, but the pressure was easily manageable. It just felt good to move. Not as good as not being in the situation, and that soothing feeling was only due to the contrast against the pressure. Running and moving was a good but temporary solution. He needed to do something more.
The corridor lengthened and he increased his pace. Light started to lick the smoke away, defining a perceptible edge. Before he could reach it something intercepted him, smashing him away from his current trajectory. He grabbed the shoulders of the assailant and threw them off him. The figure slammed down their sword into the ground to halt their momentum.
"You should be more careful," she said, in a deadpan voice.
"Says who? In this strange realm, I have no way to discern friend from foe."
"Sensible. But if you attract the gaze of those lights, you'll bring the hammer down on everyone in the immediate area."
"What hell have we ended up in then?"
"I do not know." The woman stepped closer and was illuminated in umbra fashion.
There was no light source, but he could see her clearly. A pale face with dark orange eyes greeted him. She was clearly a warrior of sorts, in her strange garment, and oversized sheath behind her. There was a large device strapped to her back and ear-muffs over her ears.
"The pressure here feels like it's battering us into submission. Beyond that? It's so hard to remember, the more you lose down here... the harder it gets to remember why you got sent here."
"I refuse to give in. And the only solution I see is to fight against this madness."
"I can help with that. Follow me."
With no other recourse, he followed but prepared for a possible fight. She led him to a large wooden desk. He could tell it was locked on first glance and smashed through it with a heavy fist. And there it was, in a nest of splinters and wood fragments.... the mystical whip — the Vampire Killer. He let it loose, letting it come alive with magic and power. The glow from the whip gave him a sense of surety.
"How did you know it was there?"
"These desks seem to contain weaponry related to their owners. Sorta like a personalized gacha."
He didn't quite understand, but nodded anyway. Even in this madness, allies could be found. "I am Trevor Belmont of House Belmont."
"Anby..." She hesitated briefly. "Demara."
"Then do we have an accord to stand against the darkness and find the source of this evil?"
"Ah, I see. This is the classic team-up, just like a buddy-cop movie."
Move... e? The nuance of foreign slang was lost on him. It felt like they were only just barely speaking the same language.
"It's a good one-liner." The girl's tone, through deadpan, had a hint of amusement. "And I do accept this accord."
The sounds were getting closer and closer, now crackling with thunder.
"We got a fight on our hands." Anby stepped next to Trevor, drawing her sword. Sparks and arcs danced along the blade, contrasting the glowing hue of Trevor's whip.
"Then we shall meet them head-on," he replied.
"Prepare for a fight montage."
A strange ally Anby was, but a welcomed one.
"Why high school?" Max wondered aloud.
"You mean this whole place? The education here does seem fairly archaic."
"I guess..." Max rubbed her arm. "But I mean why high school? I know some people think it's like the glory years, but I was basically on my way out. Yet this whole nightmare drags me into some pastiche parody of one."
"I wouldn't know. My schooling was a little atypical. So I'll defer all the nuance to you."
"I don't know how much help that's gonna be." Case in point, the door to DW1963 was a bright blue. The wooden door was structured different to all the other door. It was almost off-putting, but there was something warm about its hues and the light behind the phone booth-like window. "I mean, this wasn't part of my high school experience."
"Well, I doubt there is gonna be anyone behind this door. It's just another oddity we'll have to deal with."
A man in a navy blue trench coat was hopped onto one of a table, running a beeping device over the ceiling line of the room. The buzzing hum emitted from a little metal wand in his hand. Tenno took the lead, again sheltering Max. She raised her hand and an ethereal light started to swirl around the palm. Max watched with fascination.
"Oh hello!" The man hopped down from the table, with a spring in his step. "I thought I was the only one here. But I suppose if this place is patterning itself after a high school, there'd be students taken too."
He was an older man, middle-aged, and he looked tired. Even as he strut up to face them with excited and eager movements, he seemed... tired.
"Who are you?" Tenno barked out.
"Me? Oh well I'm the Doctor. And I guess I'm in the same boat as you."
Tenno's brows furrowed. "How can we trust you?"
"I get it. Strange man in a strange place in front of some kids... I'll admit. Not a good look."
"Try me. I'm older than I look."
"And yet this place decided to slot you into the role of a student."
Tenno huffed, and crossed her arms. "I'm not going to get into a debate about mapping my experiences to age. Anyway! What's that device you're using? How do we know it isn't a weapon?"
"This?" He gave it a proud waggle, pinched between index and thumb. "It's a sonic screwdriver. Nonlethal. It's a tool."
"You use sonics? That's just so... niche."
"Oi! I'll have you know that it's very reliable."
"Yeah? And what did it tell you then?"
"Well..." He tossed the strange screwdriver in the air, caught it, and then pocketed it into his coat. "Not much."
"Of course." Tenno hesitated, arm wavering before it lowered. The strange light snuffed out. She stepped into the classroom with Max following behind her.
"Wait, wait!" The man suddenly sprinted toward them. "Don't let that door close!"
On instinctive response to the man's sudden movement, Tenno thrust out both her hands and an intense, brief blast of energy threw the man back. The door slammed shut in tune to the man breaking the table in twain. Everything was squeezed into a single second of pandemonium. Hard to think, hard to hear, but Max acted in the face of all this sudden chaos.
"Wait!" Max's own arm snapped up, time responding to urgent need to rewind away the consequences. Time stuttered, sputtering like a broken down car before it finally responded. Tenno rewound back to their, but as the man reversed his steps back, his eyes seem to focus in on her. She ceased the tugging of time, as everyone but her was reset to their previous positions.
Tenno was by the door again, and Max was a few feet ahead. Closer to the man, who lapsed into silence instead of continuing his previous dialogue.
Max looked away, instead focusing on her friend. "Can you make sure the door doesn't close? It's important."
Tenno glanced from Max's previous position, and then to her current one. She seemed to roll with the punches better than Max could, whose heart pounded in her chest. But Tenno obeyed, holding the door open.
"You rewound time, didn't you?" the man asked, in a serious tone. It was less of a question and more of a statement.
The man's eyes was locked in on her , laser focused with an intensity. Like she was dangerous. Not like she was a predatory animal, but like a ticking time-bomb. She shied away into herself, recoiling deep into her own skin. Only Chloe really knew she could turn back time, and met it with an infectious enthusiasm. The gaze softened somewhat, as if realizing she was just a teenage girl... albeit one with a cosmic power at her fingertips. Now the look was more like she was a rookie sea-diver to his veteran experience of exploring depths she could only scratch.
"Yes, well, thank you. I haven't been able to open the door all day. I could only examine the walls for so long."
"Yeah, well, the doors lock for a set period at a time. Roughly an hour and fifteen minutes. Then it unlocks for six minutes... mostly. Some doors were unlocked, others weren't. All empty," Tenno interjected.
"And yet, it was locked all the time for me. What could it mean?" he whispered under his breath. "More mysteries. Always with the mysteries. Old face, new place..."
He strode past Tenno and looked on the exterior form of the door, with the two standing outside with him. His hands ran down the wooden blue texture with a longing ache.
"Oh... what did they do to you..."
The man's eyes closed and he rested his forehead against the glass. After a very deep breath, he examined the door like he examined the walls. His expression was inscrutable. Just set lines that could have meant anything. He then whirled around, pointing the sonic screwdriver all around. But when it fell onto the bell, the intense buzzing turned into something more alarming.
He lowered his arm. "I do think we have to get inside now."
Max looked over to Tenno, who nodded.
Tenno took up a front seat, and Max followed suit, sitting right next to her. The man went up to the front desk, leaning back against it. His hands flapped and tapped the edge before he picked up a large planner. He skimmed the pages before going right back to the first page.
"Says here in the planner that we're supposed to be doing introductions. Well, I'm the Doctor. Not a doctor, but apparently, your teacher." He hummed to himself. "This isn't my first time being one. First time with this face, it was undercover to investigate an evil plot to use children to solve a forbidden equation. Second time, when I was an old Scottish man, I just had a class where I rambled on whatever I liked. Mind you, that was all in England and this high school feels distinctively... American."
"Is this... rambling supposed to be disarming?"
His smile was small. "Just a bit."
Tenno rolled her eyes and slammed her palms down. "Well, this was all well and good, but how do we get out? I have... responsibilities. People to fight for."
He nodded in understanding. "The only common denomination between all of us, I presume, is some experience with time travel."
The Doctor nodded at Max, before looking at Tenno with a prompting look.
She propped up her chin with a hand. "Only on a technicality. First trip was brief, and mostly through a proxy. My counterpart is the one with the proper experience. I know about Eternalism through some old studies of mine. And I guess, I rewind time in a localized area through a frame I use on occasion."
The man's hands pressed together and pressed it against his mouth. "A theory is starting to form, and I don't think it looks pretty."
The conversation was quickly slipping away from her, and before she knew it, she raised her hand. The Doctor looked amused at the action.
"Uh... I'm sorry. But I feel like I'm about to be lost about all these revelations. It feels very..." Max bit her lip. Now she was really embarrassed. She could typically rewind conversations if it turned awkward, but the man would notice. Still, all the confidence she gained from the past few days just didn't go away. "It feels very sci-fi. Like hardcore to the max sci-fi."
"Well, I guess we should have proper introductions then. I don't mind."
"I guess I'll go first." Max tried to keep a straight face. It was one thing to confess stuff like time travel to your friend, and another in front of a crowd. (Even if two barely counted as one.) "My name is Max Caufield. I'm from Arcadia Bay, Oregon. And one day, after I saw my friend get... hurt, I found out I could rewind time."
The Doctor folded his hands together. "I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I like to explore through all of time and space, see the sights, and try to do right when and where I can."
He watched for a reaction on Tenno's face, but there was no recognition. Just befuddlement. She took a breath.
"Guess I'm up. I'm a Tenno, from the Origin System. A veteran of the Old War. I try to keep the peace between all the various factions that want to dominate the system."
"And I'm guessing we don't recognize anything from each of our introductions. Does anyone thinking what I'm thinking?"
Max shook her head, while Tenno nodded.
"We're from—"
Both of them exclaimed two different things at the same time.
"Different universes!"
"Conceptually embodied timelines!"
The Doctor looked at Tenno. "What's manifesting these timelines? Something has to facilitate the interactions."
"Strands of Khra. The Void."
"I suppose, that might make sense in a roundabout way, but the Void is the space between dimensions and universes. It would need something external to get something through absolute nothing and even then, imposing impression onto current reality... that requires so many hoops to jump through."
"But that's not conceptual embodiment. The Void facilitates the embodiment."
"Things from the Void, well, not-things from that not-place can mimic attributes but you're describing creation with concepts as a blueprint —" Mid-sentence, he pressed a finger to his lips in thought. After a moment of tapping, he pointed at the Tenno. "I think I know what's going on."
He bolted to a nearby bookcase that was knee-high and quickly started to look for something.
"You mentioned Eternalism. Hmmm..." he murmured.
"Hardcore sci-fi," Max commented.
Tenno looked over to her, apologetically. "I just realized something. You're from the past. Or well, a past in any case. Can't be too sure at this point. When are you from?"
"2013. Ah, you?"
"Timekeeping is ever in flux. The Orokin, that is the former empire of the system, defined chronology by their own personal measure. Before that, the various radiation wars aren't marked so much by date as by the sequence of events. Post-Collapse gets even fuzzier, and the fact that two dominant factions have their own calendars doesn't help. Suffice to say, all I know is that it is a long, long way from the 2000s."
"This all feels a bit much. I mean... I was just a student. Time travel powers is one thing, but this... purgatory with people that seem to be so much... more than what I know? It makes me feel small."
"I don't even think you had the plague in your past." Tenno opened and closed her hand. "But I'm glad that somewhere, even if its not my past, knows peace. I promise you, you'll get back there."
Back to the decision that was starting to form, the consequences of all her choices... the inability to save Chloe and the oncoming storm.
It was such a selfish, yet benign thought. It felt like these two dealt with matters that transcended such simple concerns. Again, that feeling of smallness started to sequester in her soul.
The Doctor approached and placed down a tome in front of Tenno. "You recognize either the book or the author?"
"Yep. Temporal Axioms, by Euleria Entrati. Though she goes by a different name nowadays."
"When I first read this when I was bouncing off the walls, I thought it was either a fictional account or one of those incomplete understandings of time. But if you're holding true to what's inside... then that means one of two things. One, either the Void has different and localized phenomena to your universe. Or two, you're from an entirely different paradigm from the one I'm just barely familiar with. I'm a time-traveler. Not a multiverse traveler. I can't say with any amount of certainty."
"So, ah, how does that help us?" Max asked.
The Doctor scratched the back of his head. "No idea. But it's starting to sketch out the scope of things here. It's one thing to steal people from time and space, and bring them to a single place. It's been done before. But it's entirely different thing to steal people from different universes. And I don't even want to consider the other possibility I mentioned. We need more data on how people are taken before we can say for certain."
As if triggered by that comment, the door swung open and a shadow stepped into the classroom. Tenno stood up, hand burning with energy. The Doctor waved at her to lower her arm. Max found herself standing up as well, ready to turn back time if anything went wrong.
"Don't touch it!" Tenno said.
"If something bad happens when a student touches these shadows, it might be because you're a student. Maybe it will be different since I'm a teacher. But I will tread with caution."
He approached the shadow, scanning it with his screwdriver. He waved a hand in front of the face as it continued to move. Then, of all things, the Doctor put on 3D-glasses and stared at the shadow.
"Some Void stuff clinging to him, along with other particles I can't quite identify. It's like all different types of background radiation." He glanced over at Tenno, and a quick grimace passed over his face. He slipped the glasses off and offered them to Max. "You wanna take a look?"
Though skeptical, there was a sort of childish giddiness that accompanied the innocent yearning. She took it up and placed them over her eyes. The shadow was sparkling across an entire spectrum, pushing and pulling, ebbing and flowing against the tenebrous surface. Some of it looked like dust, others were like cresting blue waves of an impossible sea. The way it ran through the body made it a bundle of skein, intersected and barely stitched together. It looked like it could fall apart at the seams.
"Keep a close eye on how my hand interacts with it, Max."
He gently pressed his hand on the shadow's shoulder and she took a careful look at the interaction. The shadow seemed to flee from his touch, revealing something more solid underneath. But the lights were gone, snuffed out as though they were never there.
"I think those lights and stuff disappear when you touch it."
"And now?" He pulled his hand back, and the lights returned alongside the shadowy cover.
"They're back in place."
"Very interesting." The Doctor hopped back, as the shadow started taking a nearby seat. She handed him back the glasses. Tenno and Max were at the ready, hands resting at their side as though they were deadly weapons.
"What do you think is gonna happen?" Max asked.
"I think we're gonna get another piece of the puzzle, and a whole lot more questions."
Then, as if there was never any shadow, there was suddenly another person in the seat.
A very pale person, with skin and hair the color of alabaster, stared back at them. He wore a strange red garb with a cape, and his eyes were covered by an old pair of shades. He looked at each of them, a cool expression greeting each and everyone of them.
"Ain't this dandy. You win a game to get a universe, and you end back at school of all things." He looked at each of them. "With how you eyein' me up like some houndin' paparazzi, I half-expected there to be cameras. Kinda letting me down on that front. Am I not pretty enough?" He propped his chin up on the crook of his palm, in an exaggerated mimicry of male modeling.
Max didn't realize — that on pure instinct — she had reached into her backpack, found her Polaroid camera and snapped a shot. There was a stunned silence at her own audacity.
"Uh... sorry?" she offered.
"Oh man, you went really old school there. Respect, girl." He pressed his knuckles forward, clearly asking for a fistbump.
Was this a test of sorts? It felt like a really important choice. She probably could rewind if he had a negative reaction, but rewinding time might hold some more immediate consequences now. The Doctor could tell, and maybe this new kid could too. Max still bumped knuckles with this clear cool kid.
"Ha. I like you hipster girl. I wanna see that photo when it develops." There was a slight relaxation in his posture as he folded his arms back and rested his head against it. "So, whatcha ya'll want to know?"
"How did you get here?" the Doctor asked.
"Told you. My friends and I won a game, after a whole bunch of fucked-up shenanigans, and we were supposed to get a brand-spankin' new universe. And I can tell this ain't it."
"Well..." The Doctor clapped his hands. "We can definitely confirm that these shadows are incoming students. And judging by, Mr...?"
"Strider. Dave Strider." He had put on an exaggerated British accent for that reference.
"Mr. Strider's comment, that the scope is unfathomable and no overall pattern, given the range of personalities and background on display."
"What are we supposed to do?" Max asked.
"Keep to the pattern till we figure out how to break it."
Dave cleared his throat. "So, I'm sorta new to this dealio, but are we in some high school purgatory?"
"We're all new to this," Tenno replied, a touch annoyed. "But yes."
"Alright, tensions are high. But as far as we can all tell, this is the first day and this is supposed to be the last period. Perhaps we'll have more freedom in exploring as more areas open up. How things unfold from here will tell us more about this place's nature," the Doctor said.
"And what? The alternative possibility being that we repeat the same six classes until we lose our minds?" Tenno asked.
"I won't let that happen. And if it comes to it, I'll take on that burden myself." The next sentence came out as a quiet, pained whisper. "I've done it before."
At that declaration, the bell rang. It rang with such a mundanity that Max almost really thought she was back at high school.
"Looks like we get to see how after-school is different," the Doctor said, "if at all."
The deja vu between Max and Tenno is just a cheeky reference to the previous iteration of this story. Don't expect anything to really come about this.
During the scene with Klaus, Tenno mentions this isn't the first talking fish she's seen. She is referring to Fibonacci of the Cavia syndicate.
The room number for the Doctor's classroom is simply the show abbreviated and the year it started airing.
Trevor going "have at you!" is a reference to Dracula's line from the game Symphony of the Night. Just a small bit. Anything else, like the miserable pile of secrets line, would have been a stretch and ill-fitting for Trevor's character, I feel.
Pyramid Head is more inspired by its depication in the game Dead by Daylight than anything else. The way it sent Trevor to Detention is based off its ability to cage the survivors instead of hooking them.
Anby was sort of a late addition to the chapter, but I found her really fitting in the end. Zenless Zone Zero has a good cast of characters to draw from.
The line "It felt like they were only just barely speaking the same language." is me hand-waving the language barriers that should be present.
When the Doctor talks about when he was a teacher before is referring to the 10th Doctor episode — School Reunion — and when he was the 12th Doctor, where he first met the companion Bill Pots as a university lecturer.
When Tenno talks about Temporal Axioms and its author, the different name can apply both to her title of "Mother" or her new name of Gomaitru.
The talk about the Void is mainly to demonstrate how different and unreliable their sources of knowledge end up being. No one system takes prominence over the other. Side-tangent, I won't ever dwell too deep into the multiverse mechanics. Or, at the very least, start talking about omniverses or whatever. I find that fics that bring up that term get kinda... unfocused? Or at least, focusing on the least interesting stuff. The point about them being from different paradigms, i.e. different multiverses, is mostly to supplement the first point I made about their knowledge and the systems used in their source series. Character interactions are paramount, in my opinion.
Deep down Taylor Hebert had a small fear that, after everything that had happened, where she ended up wasn't real. Coma, in the best case scenario. Stuck in some power-induced mental prison, at the very worst. Both options were no less than what she deserved. Even though she had bitter and mixed feelings about both possibilities, she had to acknowledge it would be a natural consequence of her actions.
Being stuck in this sick parody of a high school, however, was an entirely different matter. It was so blatant and off-putting that it had to be enemy action. For one, she was still missing her arm but she had seemingly regained her passenger. It was a sick relief that she had picked it back up without even missing step.
Passenger... is it really you? Or just a facsimile to trip me up?
Honestly, Taylor had almost expected an out-of-pocket response to twist the knife in the opposite direction. Instead it lapsed into the passenger's usual silence... into something familiar. It was like the line had never been blurred between them during that desperate gamble during Scion's rampage. And it made all the easier to fall into old habits.
Self-conscious as she was presently, Taylor could already feel the difference in her stride by the quiet yet confident footsteps that echoed through these hallways. It was a far cry from where she was just an hour ago. The more she explored, the more she started to drape herself in the role of a cape.
Already she was exerting her control over any insects that fell within her range. The only bugs out in the open were a handful of flies and the ones inside the walls were a few spiders. She knew her range fluctuated in situations close to her trigger, but the further she walked, the more dots of data started to pop in. Taylor couldn't exactly describe the sensation. She imagined it was much like those videos games where the environment loaded in the further you got in, but then again, she was never one for that sort of thing.
These bugs had to have come from somewhere... they didn't feel pre-existing. They were introduced into this environment the same way she had been. She focused on growing her swarm best she could. Calling all the current bugs that under her control was being generous. There wasn't enough to make a big difference in a fight or enough to be intimidating.
But it was more than enough to map out the place. She grouped up bugs into bigger clusters, the data that was feeding back to her was enough for rudimentary eavesdropping. Those were the main scouts, the first responders... but they didn't encounter anyone else here. So she pivoted focused and made sure to leave gnats in the empty classrooms to mark them. The current building had three floors and and endless supply of classrooms in these long hallways. It was unnatural to think of a high school so big.
Even if all the buildings of her old school were condensed into one building, it still wouldn't be this big. Though she tried to push her swarm into exploring outside, she found it impossible to do... at least for the ones already inside. The exterior of the building, in contrast to the nominally normal interior, was air-tight. There were a few bugs outside, in the space between the buildings, but predictably they couldn't get in anymore than the others could get out.
The rest of the place was barren. When she had first "arrived" Taylor had thought she was amidst a crowd, shadowy haze crowding her vision. And then with a ring of a bell they were gone, leaving her alone to grapple with the current situation and restored powers.
While she was sure her powers were in their pre-modified state, she was going to be cautious when coming in contact with anyone. Just in case she seized control of them. The more she examined her environment, the less sure she was of that possibility. The silence was deafening.
Her own thoughts could barely pierce that droning din of nothingness.
Why a high school? Is it some sort of jab towards me? I haven't thought of Winslow in forever.
So much struggle and heartache happened that it made her troubles in high school so, very small in comparison. Yet some of the people she went up against seemed determined to push her back into that box.
Surely this is cut-above those taunts and insults.
If it didn't work then, why attempt this whole farce? Of course, this was assuming that this whole scenario was directed toward her. She could have been swept up in something bigger than her, but the fact remained... why high school? Answers were predicated on finding someone else in this hellscape, but there was nothing but empty lockers and classrooms.
God, this better not be Hell. I would take burning in hellfire over this.
Taylor was about ten minutes away from just stopping. Not quite in these sense of giving up, but there was just an incessant need to reassess. She could only make zero progress for so long. She was willing to keep butting her head against the wall so long as she was making progress. Bullheaded stubbornness was only a character flaw if it didn't have momentum. She shook her head. That was just the frustration talking. How did Lisa put it again: when Taylor asked for help, it was like she did it with a gun pointed at their heads or did it when they weren't in a position to say no.
The shoe wasn't quite on the other foot, but the loneliness had forced her into a metaphorical corner. Taylor stopped, and took a deep breath. She really did think she was doing better somewhat. And then this whole situation happened, threatening to undo that assumption. If it wasn't for how hollow this high school was, if she was dropped in a life-or-death situation, then she'd be back to her bad old ways.
Not because it was easy or hard, but because it made sense.
Somewhere, along the way, my answer became no, she reminded herself.
Then, nearly a distance of a block and a half away, she heard voices from her bugs: indistinct and incomprehensible. She needed more bugs, but they were too far apart. She withdrew the clusters far ahead of the noise and her mental map of the place started to go dark. To compensate, she sent a command to the bugs behind her to move up. It wouldn't do to be blindsided, but Taylor was lacking in options. The initial cluster dispersed and then she ordered the new group to size up these newcomers. One of them was tall, roughly an older male. The other three had to be teenagers. She was getting a clearer picture the more bugs she started to filter into the room.
And Taylor started to catch proper snippets of conversation.
"...different... worlds..."
"Not... Paradox Space?"
"Most... likely not."
"Bullshit multiverses... more bullshit.... news at 11... up next... the story of poor Dave Strider... lost again...."
Taylor frowned to herself as she got closer and closer, her stride slower. She'd feel more comfortable if she had a bigger swarm, for security. She was currently outnumbered, and she wanted to wait to see if they were friendly.
Or if they would split up.
She looked over to see a set of stairs about six hundred feet away from the classroom. Her feet clambered up to the halfway point and she sat down down. Behind her, a meager and thin swarm stretched out across the walls.
The discussion among these people brought ill-tidings. A stupid thought passed through her head that this was a consequence of Scion's rampage across the many versions of Earth.
"...you... two should go... while you can..."
"...about him... and... you?"
The older man spoke too quickly to catch, but he punctuated his point by leaning against the open doorway at a slanted angle with just one hand. It made her think of mimes, and acting out shapes and scenes with nothing. But this was more of a barrier. For one, Taylor could tell he was sliding ever-so slightly as he continued to push with the palm of his hand.
Trapped, just like her and the other teenagers here, but in a far more literal fashion. Except the teenage boy flashed some sort of sign at everyone and then disappeared. The bugs she tagged him with just vanished. They didn't die, but they were gone. One of the girls huffed and tugged the other one away. They were moving in the opposite direction of where Taylor was, leaving the man alone.
I have a decision.
Two unknown, possible capes. The opportunity to talk to them was shrinking, slowly but surely. On the other hand, a good chunk of her swarm was with the older man, who was trapped.
Small swarm... down an arm…
Taylor made her decision and stood back up, untangling her legs and descending down the steps with purpose.
Trevor Belmont and his new companion, Anby, had fought the good fight. Yet he couldn't remember most of the details. Though his body was battered and his mind slowly reeling from the absence of pressure, his crusade in Detention was devoid of remembrance.
He had jolted out of that darkness, shaking against invisible confines. Trevor lurched around, trying to free himself, but his ass remained glued to the seat. After one last burst of failed movement, he relaxed and took stock of his surroundings. Both Anby and him were seated at a long wooden table.
Bookshelves eight feet high divvied up the large library into more manageable sections of makeshift hallways and intersections. Peeking above the shelves were the library walls, also covered in bookshelves that went up all the way to the ceiling. He craned his neck, trying to gauge the dimensions of the library.
It felt like there weren't any windows in the place. More entrapment and more oddities, though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was a lighter touch than from where they just came from.
Trevor turned to Anby who was resting face down on the table. On the table there was a large case and right next to him was a smaller one. He just knew what was hidden within, but he had to see it with his own eyes.
He undid the clasps and opened it up. There it was: the Vampire Killer. He made a move to pick it up, but a new and strong voice stopped him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, kid."
Following that statement was the squeaking squeal of metal wheels. As Trevor pivoted around to the source, he found himself free from his prior constraints. The voice belonged to a man in a blue-colored uniform. Strong-jawed with a prominent chin contrasted against the fact that he was wheel-chair bound.
Though he didn't mean to demean him, Trevor felt confident enough to stand up to him. The man didn't budge, but he placed his hand to the holstered weapon at his side.
"Easy there, punk. Just because your time in Detention is up doesn't mean I won't hesitate. I've shot a kid before, but this time they won't take my gun away." He laughed loudly, almost in disbelief. "I'm not even a cop anymore!"
Ah, human evil. Not as diabolical as its infernal counterpart, but perhaps far more despairing. Humanity could triumph over evil and then turn right around to divide themselves. He was familiar with the fear of his countrymen over his Belmont heritage.
He would stand against evil, no matter what shape it took.
Anby stirred from the man's outburst, orange eyes quickly assessing the situation. They first fell onto Trevor's tense stance then to the crippled man and his small weapon.
"I don't think this fight will make anyone look good," she said quietly.
While this man was very different from the pyramid headed executioner, they clearly served the same masters. Yet what would this fight truly accomplish? Trevor swayed slightly, the toll from the previous struggle making itself known.
"Why do you do this?" Trevor asked the man.
"Why? Why?!" The man pumped his arms with that exclamation before returning to a more normal tone. "Because I like this type of job. And you've done your time. But you break any more rules, I'll be there."
He rolled away just as Anby got up. She rested a hand on her case, before looking around frantically for the bulky, square-shaped sheath that accompanied her sword. She finally checked under the table and picked up the same sort of sack that he possessed. Only this one was adorned with the mechanical parts of the sheath. The tubes were at the top, with the pipes running through the sides. The two of them looked at the empty space where the man just was. They shared a conflicted look. Even though he was an enforcer of this place, he seemed human.
They couldn't linger but they had yet to make a decision. The two gave chase, passing through open-aired hallways shaped by shelves and books. They broke out of the maze and into an expansive lobby. To the side were rows of tables with vertical standing tablets and buttoned boards beneath them. Up above, there was a second floor peeking over the lobby. There was a wide wooden counter, segmenting a large chunk of the lobby into its own little corner. It was far too large for a lone librarian, instead looking more fit for an entire group of them.
Two thin and rectangular shaped planes stood straight in front of the double-door entrance. What purpose did they serve if not decorative? If they were some sort of arcane tripwire, then it could have been easily side-stepped. Perhaps it would be more effective with a librarian.
"Security sensors," Anby informed him, after seeing his quizzical glance. "To prevent theft."
The man in the wheelchair looked back at them with a giddy grin. "You don't even know the power I have in handicap accessible places."
He pressed a button on the wall and the doors swung wide open. The two of them didn't pursue as he rolled out into the hallway. Trevor rubbed his chin in thought. This place seemed to employ both monsters and men into its services. This person here seemed to be the velvet glove to that pyramid-headed monster's iron fist. And interactions with this person reminded him of the common people of Wallachia. There were those that feared the Belmonts, their deeds tainted by the present atrocities of Dracula's. And then they were all too happy to have a target to pick on. He disregarded all of that, for his destiny and fight was with the Dark Lord.
And it felt very much the same here. Even though this appeared to be a man that enjoyed violence, there was a set of rules he was playing by. It was clearer seeing that with a person than with a monster.
Despite the man's disability, Trevor was almost ready to fight him: warrior to warrior. The possibility of Detention, however, dissuaded him. There was a gaping absence in his soul — a wound that had yet to even scab over. The worst thing he could do was plunge right back into the fray. Trevor needed time to rest and recover, but would this place allow them? He turned to Anby.
"What are your thoughts?"
Anby set down her case and then the sack. She tapped at the case and then the sack. "My weapon was normal in Detention, but outside of it... it's been made into this. Like it's trying to make it fit into some sense of propriety."
Trevor lifted up his own case, hearing the rattle of his whip inside. "They give us back our weapons but indicate we should hide them lest we suffer the consequences."
"Strange, like a cross-genre setting. We have to be in high school yet Detention shows it's not just a normal high school. Fantasy but urban."
"And that man?"
"A tertiary antagonist. Not the main bad guy."
"On that I agree." Could this have been Dracula's work? Had the foul magics of his castle gone awry?
"Either way, it seems this place has positioned has positioned him as the law enforcement. And the Cunning Hares make it a point not to openly fight law enforcement."
That's right... Anby's part of an "odd-job agency." But that was just a polite way of saying mercenaries. Still, I have fought beside her and I know her the only way allies could. And she just made it clear that her group tries to err on the side of legality.
"What should our next step be?" Trevor asked.
He didn't think it was worth trying to study the tomes of this place. Rarely would pertinent information just fall into their laps. Plus Sypha would probably be better at sifting through whatever arcane secrets that might be between the pages. His heart hammered at his chest with grief, but he smothered that feeling with resolve.
I will survive, and I will get back to her.
"This place isn't a Hollow... but I think we need to treat it like one. Staying here will doom us, in one way or another."
"No argument here."
Their exit and subsequent wandering had them match the place's "sense of propriety." Nothing impeded their journey, even as the two were ready to draw their weapons at a moment's notice.
After awhile, he asked, "You mentioned a Hollow. What, pray tell, is that?"
Anby looked at him with faint look of surprise on her face, eyes widening nearly imperceptibly. "How do you not know what a Hollow is?"
"Enlighten me then. It is some manner of threat on the new world?"
Her eyes searched his eyes, from side to side as if to gauge his sincerity. "They are expanding bubbles of corruption, where ether forms and distorts people into monsters called Ethereals. Only people with high Ether Aptitude can survive for long periods of time inside. And even then, Proxies are needed to guide them through the Hollow."
"Surely the church would have heard of such an open threat and noted it in its records."
"What church?" The way Anby's tone shape made it seem like that type of institution was an exception. "Actually, where are you from?"
"Wallachia. It's a... region in Romania."
"Not the Outer Ring?"
"I don't know what that is?"
Anby stopped walking. "Then I don't know what to make of this. Because as far as anyone knows, New Eridu is the only sizable civilization that survived the apocalypse relatively intact."
"That cannot be!"
"If it wasn't for this high school setting, I would almost call this discrepancy time travel."
Taylor approached the doorframe, swarm shadowing her step. Appearances were important, after all. She wanted to justify this move as wanting to be taken seriously, but she had to recognize the intimidation aspect of it. The presumed teacher was flipping through several books with his back turned to the open door. He turned around, completely unsurprised.
"You must be the bug controller!"
"You noticed?" She kept her tone even, still.
"Got good eyes, and good hearing." He tilted his head, lackadaisically. "Easy to notice for me when you tagged everyone in this room."
I really do need a bigger swarm…
Taylor had to approach this man as though he was a Thinker. "What is this place? Some sort of prison?"
He pointed at her. "Now that is a good point! This place has to be working on some sort of logic, based somewhat on perception. But I'm trying to figure out if this place is more like a genius loci or if there is a man behind the curtain pulling the strings. You might help me figure this clue out, because you break the pattern."
Why? How? There were so many possible answers to that. It could refer to me being a cape from Earth Bet or what I became to fight Scion. That I was both hero and villain at different points in my life.
She really didn't expect him to say, "You don't have a backpack."
"What?" Taylor rolled her shoulders, feeling out the absence. It was apparent for just for a moment, and no more.
"Though four 'students' —" He threw up airquotes at that. "—is hardly a good sample size, the other three I talked to all had backpacks. Can I ask when you got here?"
"Just a few minutes ago."
"Before or after the bell ringing?"
"I think... during."
He put his hands together, pressed them against his chin, index fingers up in thought. "Then I'm leaning towards a non-sapient genius loci. You were brought here as a student, and students have backpacks. But you arrived when school was over, and why would you have a backpack then?"
"How sure are you about this?" she asked, not-so subtly pressing him to give a hint of his Thinker powers.
"Well I could say that I'm clever or that I have vast experience, but it's more of a feeling. A feeling supported by my previous statement but a feeling nevertheless.
Definitely a Thinker. I half-expected him to say he was psychic.
"Then what do we do then?"
"Play by the rules, so we could figure out to break them most thoroughly. And you students might have a better chance than me."
"Why? Because you're trapped in there?"
"Partly. A... very good friend of mine, when was younger, thought her teachers slept at school after classes were done. But where do students go?" He tapped the side of his nose. "They go home."
"Surely it can't be that simple."
He shrugged before dropping his arms down to the side. "Probably not, but I still think you have a better shot."
"What about that kid who teleported out?"
"Mr. Strider? Well, he didn't so much teleport as move through time. He had to close a loop you see. Don't know if it was my past self or future self that's involved."
I almost want to exclaim bullshit because my own experiences say that time travel can't be used with such casualness. But she kept her mouth shut. This whole situation was strange and making snap judgment calls without any leverage was far from a good idea.
"You're trapped in there, right? How are you getting out?"
"Ahh..." He waved her off. "I'll be fine. I have an idea."
"That applicable to me?"
His face scrunched up in thought. "Well if you don't mind helping me out to confirm something. I'll be fine if you walk away."
"I think I'll confirm a few things for myself too." Taylor lingered around the doorway. "Do you want me to see if the barrier applies to me?"
"Exactly what I was thinking! You don't have to fully step in. Just a hand will do." He strutted a few feet away from the door, a clear gesture.
Taylor had a few bugs loop in and out of the frame before reaching out her hand through. The man leaned forward in interest.
"May I?" He pulled a thin device out of his pocket.
With some hesitance, she nodded. He approached, the strange tinker tech device buzzing loudly. He traced it around the doorframe and then around the part of her arm in the middle of the boundary.
At her questioning look, he said, "Don't worry. It's just sonic. Really good for taking in information." He clicked the device off and brought it to his right ear, listening for something. As he waited, they looked at each other. "I'm the Doctor, by the way."
How should she respond to that? With her powers back, declaring herself to be retired felt like a dirty lie. Skitter was too tied to the Undersiders, and all the wrong things she did for what seemed like good reasons. Weaver had been a necessity, and she could barely remember what the others called that thing she became at the very end. Either way, that wasn't a name she wanted to wear.
"Just Taylor."
He nodded and started scanning around her head. She flinched back, but he remained focused on something else as the device traced upwards in the air.
"Did you know that there is an extradimensional connection notched in your brain?"
"Yeah... it's my passenger... It's the source of my powers."
"Sounds like you're familiar." He pocketed the device. "Probably unrelated."
"Not entirely. I had lost my connection to it, but I regained it when I came here."
"Now that is odd, but it fits this bizarre pattern. It wears the skin of a generic American high school, but what type of school has students with powers and a class that teaches time travel?" He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "I'm gonna try something. Might disappear, but if slash when you see me again, update me on what happened."
"What are you trying?"
"See this place effectively cannibalized my TARDIS — a ship I use to travel — into parts of this classroom. The TARDIS is bigger on the inside than the outside. All those spatial dimensions have to go somewhere. That door right there is part of my ship, and I could still feel her."
"Then why can't I tag along? If the expectations of this place say I'm supposed to 'go home', I'd rather leave here on my own terms."
"If you're sure..." He nodded slowly. "But fair warning, I don't think it's gonna work."
Taylor shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to try."
"Fair point." He flashed a brief grin before Taylor stepped inside.
The Doctor went to the door and closed it shut. Taylor saw the white wood paneling on the interior side of the door. It definitely stood out, like a mismatched puzzle piece. It fit it in place, even though it was clearly from a different puzzle set all together. The Doctor pressed his head against the door, counting down under his breath. When he opened his door, it shown no new reveals. The suspense deflated as sure as a gunshot. Taylor strode past the door before the two could trip into another conversation. All the words in the world wouldn't change what was happening.
The Doctor stopped the door halfway before closing, resting his head on the frame. "I will do my best to help."
There was something underneath his voice: a weary, resigned commitment. He would do his best, and die trying. Taylor could relate so hard that it squeezed her chest. This path swallowed all other paths once tread upon. Taylor had been forcibly taken on and off that path. If she wanted to do better, then there had to be some comforting words from her, but all she had were the ones that drive him further down the path.
So she said nothing, only giving a tight nod like there was a noose around her neck. He nodded and shut the door. A labored, mechanical wheezing sound pushed past the edges of the door. All the bugs in the room started to flicker in and out of her awareness. She was tempted to fling the door open, but instinct told her to wait. When the sound finally died away, she opened the door.
The Doctor was gone and the classroom looked less than it did before. There was still the same amount of desks, shelves, whiteboards, and the teacher's desk was still in the same place. Yet, the place had become —in no overt describable way— generic. Taylor checked the back of the door, seeing that the white paneling was gone.
She was alone again.
Taylor Hebert had to find what this place deemed her home. Would her dad be there? Or even mom, if not the alternate version of her? The thought made her sick. That Annette had her own life, her own kids. To directly force her to play out the role of her dead mom was sickening with a touch of unwanted hope. Her mom didn't get to see her enter high school. It was not fair to force that Annette into that role.
She couldn't afford to handle this alone, not like this. Not without a swarm behind her, and allies beside her. Was it too late to approach those two girls who left?
"So... you're like a space ninja."
Tenno sighed good-naturedly. "That's your main takeaway from my explanation?"
"I mean it's just... wowsers." What else could Max say to Tenno after she explained the universe she hailed from her. Were it not for Max's powers, her problems were downright trivial in comparison. It made the friendly interactions with Tenno... riddled with guilt. She didn't feel like she was worth the attention. Not from someone who lived in a world of violence, and still did their best to do good.
"It's not all bad though," Tenno added, "There's pockets of peace in the Origin System. And that's who and what we protect foremost. If not for this whole mess and if it didn't mean you staying there permanently, I'd take you to Cetus."
"What's that?"
"It's one of the few active communities on Earth. Earth, in my world, went through a lot but people still survive. And even thrive. The people there have an interesting culture and possess interesting sights. The Ostrons are quite lovely when you gain their trust. I think a photographer like you would love it."
Max tried to visualize an unrecognizable Earth. one that sounded like Mother Earth had reclaimed most of it. It was impossible to conjure up, even as her heart raced in excitement about the possibilities.
She smiled instead. "That would be nice."
The two of them reached the entrance of this school. Large windows in place of walls and a set of double doors led out to the street ahead. The sidewalk was a polite notion with how long the school property extended out. Past the doors was a flag pole that was proudly waving a white flag. Max watched it ripple against the wind before taking a snapshot of it, the pole standing against the brickwork of the building.
"Well that's helpful," Tenno remarked.
Max's eyes followed to where Tenno was pointing: the center of the building, where schools normally placed their names. In big bold lettering, it merely declared:
HIGH
SCHOOL
"Freaky." Max took a picture of that too.
Unspoken, it seemed like they were both investigating different directions. Max approached the school, stepping onto the patches of lawn by the windows. She tried peering into the windows but the blinds did their jobs too well.
Never thought I'd be complaining about a blind's effectiveness. I'm the type that is in need of good blinds.
A flash of color peaked out from behind the brush and Max inched closer, her camera pointed ahead like a weapon to lead the way. The bush started to thin out, revealing a stylized graffiti tag with fatty, flowing letters on a purple background. Another picture.
SAINTS, it stood proudly.
There was something on the ground.
"Max! Come here!" Tenno called out.
She forgot about what she saw and quickly jogged over. There was a treeline across the street, which looked like it belonged to a highway with how big it was. Peeking above the treeline was the faintest glimpse of a larger building.
"That what you're pointing out?" Max asked.
"No. A car is coming."
Max started, tucking away her camera, and shaking out the nerves in her hands. Palms were sweaty and it felt like something caught in her throat as she tried rewinding by half a second.
"Powers aren't working," Max murmured.
"Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." Tenno reached into her backpack, rummaging through it. She pulled out a no.2 pencil and examined it in the light. She sighed, pocketing it and continuing to look.
A pencil? That's like action movie stuff: taking out someone with such an ordinary item. But Max knew it was possible for Tenno, if only once.
It was chilling to fathom. Right now it was a thought on the verge of becoming real. Tenno had been so nice and kind that Max couldn't bear to see her kill someone even if it was with a pencil. Doubtlessly it would be messy.
When Tenno pulled out a pair of scissors, there was a glimmer of triumph in her eyes. Max tensed up, having a similar reaction when Chloe pulled out that gun. Which was absurd, because this was a pair of scissors and that was an actual gun. There was no doubt however that Tenno could and would use it.
All to defend me…
The recognition of that fact was alien to her with how many reactions it stirred up: honored, horrified, scared... relieved. Chloe would stand by her and probably even kill in self-defense for her, but it never seemed like an open and acknowledged possibility. Not like this.
Tenno tucked the scissors into her waistband.
"If I tell you to run, please do so."
"I..." She almost wanted to say that she wasn't worth it, but that wasn't quite true. She could rewind time, and that made her immensely valuable. When Tenno glanced back at her, there was kindness in her eyes and a reassurance in her smile. Perhaps rewinding time was just a blip on the radar for a space ninja, and Tenno was empathetic. She must have had experience, making sure her presence was always reassuring.
Which made her comfortable enough to say, "If you can... could you not kill any threats that come?"
Tenno huffed. "It'll be tougher, especially with no frame. I can make no promises besides saying I'll do my best to stay my hand."
Max could see the car now. "That's all I ask."
The car that pulled up a Nissan Bassara colored with a dark purple. The driver's door opened and all of Max's previous anxiety was made moot as the Tenno cried out, in love and jubilation, "Lotus!"
She ran around the car's front and hugged the driver tight. The woman was tall, dressed in dark hues that bled from purple into different shades of blue. She was veiled, covering her face from sight save for the front portion of her jaw. Lotus had a pretty shade of purple lipstick, which then disappeared into the Tenno's hair.
After a moment, Tenno stiffened and pulled back. "But wait... if you're here..."
"Yes, my child. I'm trapped here too." As if to demonstrate her point, she pressed her palm past the curb, stopping against an invisible barrier. "But I'm glad that I have enough autonomy to help you."
"I... I won't let it use you or make you do anything you don't want to."
Lotus smiled. "I know, I know, my child. And that's why the role of your mother is one I do not mind playing. Have I not played it before?"
Tenno had a bashful expression, looking away with heated cheeks. "Choice is important. Nobody should take that away from anyone.
Lotus nodded solemnly before turning to Max. "Hello. I am the Lotus. Are you her friend?"
It seemed too early for such a label, and Max replied, "I'd like to think so."
"Oh don't be like that." Tenno looked back at the Lotus, more self-assured now. "Yes, she is."
"I'm glad you forge bonds wherever you go." Lotus looked toward the school, pursing her lips. "And it's time to go home."
"And what's that like?"
"A modest two-story home in a uniform neighborhood, modeled between 20th and 21st century design. I know where to go, but I do not think you would have any luck by walking. Not without a vehicle."
"Why?" Max asked.
"Navigation works subconsciously in the driver's seat. Without it, you wouldn't be able to find out where your house is."
"What about inside these houses? What are they like?" Tenno asked.
"It best fits in your interests and tastes into the antiquity styling. Parts of your Orbiter were retrofitted into your 'room'. Your floofs collection, for example, is on the bed."
Tenno coughed loudly to change the subject. "What about Max? Does she have anywhere to go?"
"I can take her along and then drop her off."
"Wait, how?" Max interjected.
A small, almost lazy smile appeared. "What type of mother would I be if I didn't know where her child's friend lived?"
The logic was impeccable within the confines of this place. Max ended up settling in the spacious backseat, throwing her backpack beside her. The Lotus did a u-turn and started to return the way she came. Up ahead, nearly three-quarters of a mile, was an intersection. To the right was a road lined by trees that doubtlessly led to that other building. Max turned around to get one last glimpse of the school.
There was a purple-hooded figure by the graffiti, watching them leave. Max felt a chill run down her spine, and did her best to focus on the immediate surroundings. Up ahead, on the corner, was a bus stop without a bus. Or passerbys. The opposite side was made up of houses. Endless, endless houses. Each and every one of them were two stories tall, two windows on each level. White picket fences divided the yards neatly.
It was a nightmare exercise in suburbia, and a photographer's nightmare. A single shot of this uniform expanse would make a great statement, but it was the sort of photo that you could only sell once. There was only so many ways to frame and angle something so repetitive. And she believed in not interfering with a natural environment for her photography.
They rounded the corner to the left and Max caught a look at the high school again. There was a vast ocean of a parking lot that rose in wave-like tiers, caught mid-splash toward the shore. There were only two cars she could spy with her little eye and they were miles apart.
The buildings, however, were like the Great Wall of China. It ran all the way to the horizon up ahead and then some. She could spot a few entrances on some of the buildings. Some were on the bottom level of the building, but most were from the ground level. So much space for so few people.
Where was everyone else?
Trevor and Anby stepped out of that maze of a building and into open sunlight. It should have been a comforting sensation, the light of day dispelling away the horrible and cursed night. instead it was just a pale warmth of his skin, enough to recognize it but not enough to really feel it.
"What now?" He asked. Trevor needed a direction to march toward or foes to fight or secrets to uncover. Sheer nothingness made him lost. "Any idea where to start?"
"We'll take one of those vehicles." She pointed at a distant carriage that was without any horses, but he was unfazed. Magic or technology... as long as someone knew how to work them, it was fine.
"Bit of a walk," he commented. Had to be a mile and then some.
"Yes." Then she started walking.
He laughed under his breath. Straightforward. He liked her. They had fought together —even if the memory was hazy— and neither strayed into shiftiness. Trevor followed after Anby, matching her pace.
"I am not unfamiliar with the notion of other realms, but the scale you're suggesting is just hard to fathom."
"Just speculation. It's a common enough trope in movies, but it's always a single person venturing out into a different world. Classic hero's journey. But... the two of us here? Doesn't make any sense."
"On that I agree. But something about the idea that strangers from various worlds having to undergo trials together... it rings slightly familiar." The thought brought forth connotations of hooks, of all things.
"It's a bittersweet thought to have, but the best we could hope for is our allies have been stolen away here too." She looked back at him. "Allying with only strangers is a bit much. No offense."
He chuckled. "I understand the need for familiarity. If my wife caught wind of my disappearance, doubtlessly she would break in here of her own accord."
Sypha could only be idle for so long.
"Wife? But you're so young."
"I was a man grown, but this place worked its infernal magics."
"All the better to fit you in with its designs." She hummed. "The mystery deepens. Nicole would know what to do."
"That's your leader, right?"
"Yes. She may not be the best with money, but she has never led me astray." A short breath slipped out. "As relieved as I'd be to see her, I don't want to see her here."
Trevor nodded to her. "Is there anything or anyone from your world that might help navigate this place?"
"We use Proxies and Carrots to traverse the Hollows. If it is even applicable here... Too many unknowns."
Carrots? The food? Trevor shrugged. More strangeness, this time from a different world.
"I have talked much about my own world. May I ask about yours?"
"That's fair, but I can only speak from my own perspective. The Belmonts have a power in our lineage. And our foe, the Dark Lord Dracula, rises with his castle nearly every century. And it is our destiny to wage battle against him."
Anby looked at him, a faint sparkle in her eyes. "You're like a chosen one to destroy an ancient evil."
"It does lend a certain mythicness to itself, yes."
Anby's fascination tapered off into shock as they got closer to the vehicle. "I know that car!"
She rounded to the left side of the vehicle.
"So this is what phases out carriages and horses in your world."
"Yep. Technically this car is under Billy's name, but it's the company car." Anby started patting the side of her clothing. "Plots often are allowed a small number of plot contrivances to make the story move onto the next scene. And it should be no different here."
She knelt down to her knee, setting aside her case and flinging the back-sack in front of her. Her hand dove in, rummaging through before raising a set of keys up in victory.
"Success." She opened the door with them and settled into the seat. Trevor followed suite, settling in the passenger seat. "Hm... now that is odd. I'm free to drive around, but only toward three destinations?"
"A mental compulsion?"
She nodded. "In a sense. I am free to drive around and take whatever roads I want, so long as they end up at these acceptable destinations."
"And what are those destinations?"
Anby frowned. "Two places that are calling themselves our homes, and the mall."
Trevor settled the case between his legs and pulled out the Vampire Killer, wrapping it around his forearm. "Where to first?"
Anby was quiet before saying, "I'd rather defer the decision to you."
She had to have been a soldier of some sorts. Trevor had a knack for reading people. It was how he knew that Alucard would aid his group against Dracula — granted, Trevor had to prove his strength first. Anby had already taken his measure and was used to taking orders. Clearly there was a limit to her following orders, given her current occupation as a mercenary. Hopefully she left the life of a soldier for moral reasons.
No matter the case, he had a good measure of trust in her.
"We'll check my so-called home first. With any lucky, Sypha will be there. Her knowledge of magic will surely aid us."
Anby's expressions tended to be muted, but even he could see the wonder in the quirk of her lips when she heard the word magic.
"Roger." She put the keys in and started the vehicle. Mechanical sounds of rumbling and jagged purring emitted from the front. When the car started forward, Trevor jumped slightly. Mostly because of how smooth and how fast this thing was. If it was rickety and turbulent, it would have been easier to handle.
Leaving this parking lot took longer than expected. With how empty it was, he expected a quick trip to the main street. Anby cut through the white lines segmenting the asphalt into neat rectangular spots. He dreaded trying to navigate this lot when it was filled. Past the exit was an endless row of same-shaped houses facing this school.
As he stared at them long and hard, he asked, "Can you even differentiate them from one another?"
"Only yours and mine."
Trevor rested his head against the window, trying to temper his hope. If it was too sharp, it would cut him down, but not to have any of it meant being disarmed in the face of despair.
The rest of the ride went by quickly as Anby inexplicably stopped in front of a house indistinguishable from all the rest. It was in a neighborhood tucked three rows away from the school. Anby parked the vehicle right in front of the waist-high gate.
Trevor stepped out, Anby at his back.
He hesitated, only briefly.
But he was Trevor Belmont and dying never frightened him. Letting fear stop him from being who he was... that was a different story. His hand was on the gate. He hoped to God that it was Sypha inside... but who else could possibly be inside that house?
Max stood nervously in front of her supposed house. The very real possibility that her parents were inside sank in deep, like concrete shoes in the ocean. She hadn't yet realized this until she was right in front of the house.
Tenno stood by her side, a comforting presence in all of this madness. But how could she could ever possibly explain this whole situation to her parents? If her powers worked inside the house like they did inside the classroom well, that meant she had all the time in the world to convince. The problem wasn't that she didn't love her parents —she absolutely did— but she didn't feel comfortable in telling them much.
No matter how much she grew or shrunk as a person, they would try to squeeze all of that within the lines of their idea of her. A parent would always see their children as, well, their little babies. It was sweet, most of the time, but it didn't always engender absolute trust.
Max took a deep breath. "I can do this."
"I can still come with you."
"No. Thank you, but this is something I should do myself."
Tenno nodded. "But do you have any backup plans?"
"I can rewind. Probably."
"Besides that."
Max bit her bottom lip anxiously. "I have another ability. I can rewind up to a certain point, but I can circumvent that a bit. I can time travel to a moment in time with a photograph. If... things go wrong or are not as they seem, I can hop back to this point and get your help."
"A solid plan." Tenno had a half-amused sigh. "You would not believe the amount of effort that went into redoing a time travel attempt. Lucky us."
Max scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, I guess. So I'll just take a picture of you—"
"How about one with you and me?"
"Huh... I mean..." Tenno was a good subject for a photo shoot, but Max didn't want to push. "You sure?"
"Max, despite this enormous power you have at your fingertips, you're just a normal girl. And that's what I like about you. The moments where I get to be normal are so few and far in-between. The other Tenno... we are brothers and sisters by shared tragedy. I... there's not many peer peers, you know..."
Max swallowed her anxiety away, saddled up next to Tenno, and flipped her Polaroid camera around, the lens facing them. Tenno instantly emoted with a wide grin and flashed two fingers. Max, seeing this from the corner of her eye, gained a small but genuine grin. Instinct had her immortalize this moment perfectly.
She lowered the camera and gently took the picture. It was more than just an object of necessity; it was something personal and intimate. She kept it close to her chest. "If I jump back to this point, well, it'd be fairly obvious with how I act. Or will act."
Tenno laughed. "Don't worry. I'll believe you."
Max let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"In any case," Tenno continued, "I'll be in the car. And we won't leave until you enter the house."
Max nodded gratefully. "Thank you."
Then she took her first step on the winding path forward to the porch. Her mind was running wild with a thousand variations of the conversation ahead of her.
Taylor was stuck in a lazy conversation that had yet to bear any fruit. She followed the pattern of the place like the Doctor suggested and took the bus, just like she used to do at Winslow. She wasn't really surprised when the bright yellow bus pulled up to the first stop. The young-looking girl who spoke with an airy drawl and acted like an old lady did. She had introduced herself as Piper Wheel. By her seat was a large hammer, looking like it had to be cobbled out of engine parts. It didn't matter if it was tinker tech or not — the fact that it was there at all as an option spoke of the capabilities of this blonde waif.
"Yeah I'd rather be driving my Steel Tusk instead of this cumbersome beast."
Taylor sat close to the driver, leaning forward. Bugs crawled along the exterior of the bus and she seeped them through the openings. Just in-case. She didn't know too much about vehicles, but stuffing the exhaust pipe was a clear option if she needed to forcibly make a stop.
"So... you were taken too?" she asked.
"Yup. I was just a humble driver for the Sons of Calydon. And now I'm a bus driver." A long sigh. "A person my age shouldn't switch jobs when they're nearing retirement age."
"How old are you?"
She lazily wagged a finger, while keeping her eyes on the road. "You shouldn't ask a lady her age. But I know I look good for my age. Good genes, a steady diet of Nitro Fuel, and an easy-going attitude does wonders. But I can tell you lived a tough life, kid. You'll have wrinkles and gray hairs by the time you're thirty."
Taylor sighed. "That obvious?"
"Got an eye for it. Slow down, and enjoy the time you got your friends. They'll keep you spry whether you like it or not."
Taylor closed her eyes, thinking about her time with the Undersiders, the Chicago Wards. There had been barely any time for leisure, just jumping from one crisis to the next.
"I wouldn't wish them stuck here." And it might be better if I kept my distance, if they did. "Even if none of us were stuck here..."
"Ah, kid. You gotta take friends where you can. Nobody deserves friends, but you can become undeserving of them. And if you don't try to fix them, that's when you become undeserving."
"I guess." Taylor shook her head. "Are you stuck here too? Forever stuck driving this bus?"
"That'd be a nightmare. But this job is like any other job. I clock in my hours and miles, and then lil ole me goes home."
"God, I hope this isn't Purgatory."
"Hah!" Piper sobered up. "Listen, I have a small favor to ask. I'm rather limited in where I can go. If I get into this sad excuse of a rig, then it is only to do this job. And I literally cannot deviate from the route. So if you meet any Sons of Calydon, give ole Piper a holler."
"What type of gang are they?"
"Oh, we're a biker gang. Out in the Outer Ring." She yawned. "I won't give you a boring lecture on the politics of the place, but suffice to say, Public Security doesn't have jurisdiction or the resources to police the Outer Ring. And it's up to the gangs to be the lifeblood of the place."
Taylor was struck hard by a sense of nostalgia. Just enough to sway her judgment.
"I'll take their measure first."
"They are their own brand of crazy, but I think you'll like them."
Piper pulled the bus to a stop, right in front of a house that looked like all the other houses. Like the buildings at the High School, she couldn't get any of swarm inside of them.
"How do you know this is where I'm supposed to live?"
Piper rapped a knuckle on her forehead: a clear answer. This place merely gave her instructions but not the reasoning.
"You gotta skedaddle. Apparently I got someone else to pick up now."
Taylor nodded her thanks, and trotted down the steps toward this 'home' of hers. It was way more well-off than her old home in Brockton Bay. Past the gate, and up the steps, her gathered swarm at her back.
Hand on the doorknob.
Bus drove away behind her, almost nonplussed.
Will my dad be in here? Or this a pretense to a fucked-up mindgame?
The door opened and information popped up in her mind's eye. New insects manifested themselves into her control, allowing her to visualize the layout of this place. Fairly bog-standard, middle-class home, but what was important were the two people in the kitchen. They heard the buzzing of her swarm, readying themselves. They must have been as surprised as she was, but they only took up a guarded stance. Surprised but not that surprised.
Who?
She stepped through the hallways, swarm shadowing her step. Obfuscation was the next best option, bereft of any sort of weapon. She expected many things when she stepped from the hallway and toward the kitchen. Taylor just didn't expect Defiant and Dragon to be there. They kept their distance. Sixteen feet. Defiant held out a rudimentary staff made from a lamp pole, devices and wires hanging loosely from the shaft and tip.
"Are you of right mind?" he asked.
"Sorry Taylor," Dragon added.
She kept her shoulders from slumping. It was fair for them to be cautious. The last time they saw her, it was probably when she was out of her mind and the line between passenger and Taylor blurred. That, and the fact that her ability had been modified to control whoever stepped inside her then-shorted range.
Defiant and Dragon shared a look. Defiant handed his would-be halberd to Dragon and stepped closer, well-within the previous range limit. Once he was satisfied that he wasn't under her control, he approached more freely, stepping into the rays of light from the window. Parts of his skin reflected the light differently, betraying its artificial nature. He looked like he needed a shave. Dragon followed up behind him. Now that the tension was broken, she could register the mess they made in the kitchen. Electronics like air conditioners, television, and computers were laid bare. Bits and pieces were stripped out and sorted for anything useful.
It was clear they had been stripped of their gear and were forced to scrounge for anything even remotely helpful. Honestly all the open books amidst the mess told a story about them searching for answers.
"Despite the circumstances, I'm glad to see you're in a better state," Defiant said.
"Yeah." Taylor pulled some of her swarm back. "But this is something really strange. Almost unbelievable —"
"We figured." Dragon stepped forward and slipped her a piece of paper.
It was a school transcript, with her name and classes written down. Abnormal classes like Super-Heroics were scattered among the more mundane ones like Ethics. All of the prior experiences could have been anything else entirely, but this tied the whole sick joke together. It was far more final than just talking to speculating strangers.
I'm back in high school, with Dragon and Defiant as my legal guardians.
"Fuck whoever did this," she hissed.
An almost spiteful thought floated in her: a dark hope that someone else was feeling the same amount of confusion and frustration that she did.
Trevor had barely made it a few steps in when the door was kicked open. Out stepped a blonde woman with a long pony-tail. At her side was a sword, but in her hands was a whip. Familiarity shrouded around her like a halo.
"What foes has this wicked place conjured?" she demanded.
His stance became straighter as he replied, "I am Trevor Belmont, of the House of Belmont!"
"Ha! You claim to be related to me?"
"Do you to me? I know you not, in the annals of my lineage."
Anby stood at his side, hand on the handle of her sword. "Time travel, perhaps."
"Perhaps you come further down my line," he said, unspooling his own whip. "This place has strange magics, stealing people across realms. Across time would be no different."
"You speak confidently. How do you know that you didn't come down from my line?"
"Declare yourself then."
"I am Sonia Belmont! I, who defeated Dracula, and dedicated my line to fight against the darkness should it rise again."
Trevor was positively bemused. "Leon Belmont is the one who dedicated our line to that case."
"I speak truth." And that she did; he could feel it.
"Aye, perhaps you do. There is but one way to confirm this."
She smirked. "Indeed there is."
Trevor flicked out his whip, feeling the power channel through it. Likewise, Sonia channeled a power through her own whip. Could it also be the Vampire Killer? Anby started to draw her sword, but Trevor raised a hand to stop her.
"This is a fight between Belmonts. Fighting to prove one's self is an honored tradition after all."
Anby glanced at Sonia, who nodded in complete understanding, and then looked back at Trevor. "Understood."
Sonia readied herself to leap, and Trevor was ready to meet it in kind.
"Prepare yourself!" she declared.
The whips came down with dual cracks.
There was no way Max could have prepared herself for this. There were so many outcomes and scenarios and lines of dialogues that riddled her head that she got caught completely flat-footed by the reality before her. The home before her was a bastardized version of her childhood home, familiar yet unfamiliar all at once. The person before her stood confidently, having grown well into her skin, even when she came face-to-face with Max.
Standing before her was Max Caulfield: older, more confident in her place in the world, but possessing more fortitude from the troubles that washed over her. They both looked equally lost and in the same boat, but only one of them looked like the adult in the situation.
But they both had the same reaction:
"Wowsers."
Dave Strider got shuffled off this chapter because there's a dedicated time travel plot that will require a whole chapter to itself. I'm not actually looking forward to that one.
Why am I using cartoon sitcom characters in sideline roles? They are actually quite versatile for whatever roles I need them to play. The obvious one is comedic, but if you really think about it, they would be nightmares to deal with. It's like watching Always Sunny in Philadelphia from a perspective that isn't from the Gang. Or since I used Joe from Family Guy, a more relevant example would be like having to deal with Quagmire from a teenaged girl POV. Even though there are a few scenes of Quagmire being like "I'm not a rapist" or having any some sort of standards, there are dozens more of scenes where he isn't. And there are also scenes where it's more acceptable dirty humor, if I don't want to use him for a heavier direction. I can use either characterization, depending on the plotline I want to tackle. Like I said: versatile.
Joe shooting a kid is a reference to episode 13 of season 19 of Family Guy, in which Joe hands a Terminator Peter a water pistol because he got downgraded due to him shooting a kid. It's a very offhand reference that I dug up because I wasn't sure if I imagined that scene or not when I first wrote this bit. Family Guy has no real canon, but I like my stuff to have some basis.
Fun fact: Apparently "Tinkertech" is not capitalized within Worm and Ward, which I had to correct in this chapter before posting.
The Saints tag on the wall is, of course, done by the Boss from Saints Row. It's more like a beacon for them to try and signal any fellow Saints. The item that Max spotted but did not pick up will be relevant later.
The pencil scene with Tenno is a not-so subtle reference to the John Wick films where the titular character has two feats of killing someone with a pencil. It's just a fun reference, and I don't expect it to come up. Though if Tenno had to use a pencil, I feel like the most she could do is take out someone's eye with it.
Why does Lotus drive a Nissan Bassara specifically? I don't know; I'm not a car person. But I chose it because it had the vibe of a "family van" and it was first manufactured in the year 1999. Which is a roundabout way to referencing Warframe 1999.
When Trevor thinks about hooks, that is a reference to Dead by Daylight's Castlevania chapter.
Despite Trevor being from game canon, some lines referencing the Netflix series were used "dying never frightened him" or "- of the House of Belmont" because I felt they best fit the direction I'm going with.
Max being anxious about not believed when hopping through a photograph is a reference to a moment in the first Life is Strange, where you have to convince Chloe of making a different choice.
Taylor's sense of nostalgia is a slight reference to her warlord days. Of course, the Outer Ring situation isn't exactly comparable, but it's enough to let Taylor feel some sort of sympathy. Plus I feel like the Sons of Calydon would be the faction Taylor would fit in the most compared to all the other ZZZ factions, if this was solely a Worm x ZZZ crossover. Not to say they'd be the best fit, but like the best of all the worst options. The runner-up would be the Cunning Hares.
Why did I use Dragon and Defiant instead of Danny? The answer is multifold. The first one is that I wanted to use them. The second is that they are more dynamic than Danny. I actually like Danny later in Worm, but I have to keep the wider world in mind. When the inevitable PTA stuff comes up, what could he actually do? To use a plotline that may or may not come up, if Lotus and, say, Arlecchino from Genshin Impact clashed, they could actually come to blows. Danny can't. He might have had a single standout scene in the inevitable PTA plotline, but it would be only that. And then he'd be shuffled over. He can try to do more, but his lack of dynamism would actually bring down Taylor by association. There will "normal" parents within the story however, but I'll keep mum on how that will manifest.
Sonia Belmont is actually from the non-canon Castlevania Legends. I thought it was a shame, so I decided to use her because of how much of a blank canvas she represents: her relationship with Alucard, her non-descript baby in her secret ending. She could very much well have been Trevor's canonical mother if the game wasn't non-canon. I try to keep close to canon and modifying/connecting her backstory to the wider canon is just AU. By acknowledging her non-canonicity within this chapter, I'm free to build something new.
Their Belmont understanding of having to fight one another is a reference to the occurrence of having to fight someone before becoming official allies: Sonia fought Alucard, Trevor fought Alucard, Hector fought Trevor, etc, etc.
The Max that appears at the end is Max Caufield from Life is Strange: Double Exposure. Max's parents have only really appeared on the sidelines in the games: text messages, etc. I didn't feel like I could tackle them properly because the more I sketched them out, they would basically be more like OCs. Especially since they haven't really dealt with any canon supernatural stuff. Plus, since I'm having Max be friends with the Operator, it's also a way to strengthen their ties, because LIS-DE!Max is now, basically, Max's version of the Drifter.
