Microstory 2460: Shmupdome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

This is a violent dome, which is why it has those restrictions where you’re not allowed to even step foot under the dome without a temporary substrate. You have some leeway when it comes to the characteristics of your body, but at any rate, your mind has to be able to be uploaded upon death. Even if you choose a body that is all but invincible, they make you take these precautions. I don’t know why I said all that. I guess I just know that some people ignore the prospectus info, and go straight to the reviews, so I want to do my part to make the rules clear. This is a shoot-em-up game, but in real life. There are different scenarios that you can play, and each has its own pros and cons. You might go in there totally unarmed in a sort of if I need a gun, I’ll take one situation. You might have weapons, but no ammunition. Hell, you could go in there with a bow and arrow if you find that an interesting challenge. There are limitations, but the guides will go over all that when you show up. Everyone gets a tap out button in case things get too intense. Some of the guns may look ancient, but they’re fully programmable. If someone in your area taps out, the system-controlled androids will freeze entirely, and everyone else’s gun will stop functioning. Even though you can’t really die permanently, you can allow yourself to feel pain, and you can’t turn that trait off at will. It may also just become overwhelming for someone, and they want it to stop. I didn’t actually see any issues, but I did hear some anecdotes, and I would like to take a second to urge you to respect other people’s needs. Everyone is unique, and you don’t know what others have been through. And it really doesn’t matter. If someone has to leave in the middle of the fight, just accept that, and don’t make them feel bad about themselves. This is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be fun for all involved, and if even one person is struggling to enjoy it, they should be able to get out of it without any ridicule or whispers. As I said, this is violent. And it’s something that you could never get away with on Earth, even though it has all the same quasi-immortality technology. Nearly all of the death that the human race and the vonearthans have experienced has happened on Earth. That’s just too much history. If you wanna know what it’s like to shoot your way out of a clothing factory, or a jungle, this is the place for you. I won’t list all the environments or scenarios that you can select, but obviously, if you’re done with one, you can choose another. If this is your thing, you’re not gonna get bored. Even if you exhaust all of the various locations, you won’t have done them all with the same weapons or vehicles, or at the same difficulty level, or with the same allies, or against the same opponents. Don’t come here if you don’t think you can take it, but if you do, and it turns out to be harder than you thought, don’t be afraid to tap out. That’s what the button is there for.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 4, 2486

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

After Mateo and Ramses returned to Castledome, the latter hopped into their ship to run diagnostics on the slingdrive. Following careful examination and thought, he decided that it was not a good idea for them to try to jump again today. The good news was that they didn’t have to wait an entire year to begin the sidequest. Mateo’s daughters were capable of operating it on their own. They were going to have to learn sometime, and obviously all the systems were automated. While Ramses was spending time showing them the ropes, Mateo and Leona put their heads together to draw up a list of everyone they wanted to live here on Castlebourne with them. Darko Matic was first on the list. According to Dalton Hawk’s claims a while back, Darko’s last known location was the top of Monte Albán step pyramid in Mexico. This was where Dalton was killed, leading him to ending up in the afterlife simulation. Assuming there was no delay between his final moment on Earth, and his arrival in the simulation, this occurred in the year 2400.

While the team was gone, Kivi, Dubravka, and Romana took the Vellani Ambassador 85 years in the past to retrieve Uncle Darko. It was he who came up with the collective term of Kadiar, as that was the spelled out form of their first name initials as an acronym. They seemed to like it. Team Kadiar. Tertius was a part of their team too, but didn’t seem to mind being left out of the name. He wasn’t the only one to not be included, though everyone else’s role in this new operation hadn’t yet been fully fleshed out. Some would join the away team for the refugee missions, while others would remain on Castlebourne to work those refugees through orientation, and make sure they had everything they needed, as well as maintain some level of order as hosts.

Team Kadiar’s first stop after Darko was Baudin Murdoch’s architectural firm. His power would be invaluable on this world, speeding up construction on every dome by orders of magnitude. He agreed to the job with very little convincing. Over the course of the next year, more people were recruited to live on this world. This included Mateo’s once-mother Aura, and her husband, Samsonite, along with family friend, Téa. Ace and Paige came with a non-dead version of Serkan Demir. Kivi asked to bring in a version of Lincoln who didn’t literally know everything about everything. Next came Mateo’s once-father, Mario, and his wife, Angelita Prieto. They hoped to reunite with their daughter, Brooke, but she was off doing her own thing. She might show up later, once things were settled with the Exin Empire and the Ex Wars. Several other people agreed to live here too, like Kallias Bran and Aeolia Sarai. Lastly, they found a few less likely allies in Ida Reyer, Jericho Hagen, and Jesimula Utkin. Team Kadiar reportedly spoke with many others who didn’t have any interest in joining, or had too much work to do elsewhere, like Quivira Boyce and her team of time fixers, and the members of the Interagency Alliance Commission, which operated primarily around the turn of the 21st century. At some point during this, too, Dubra intentionally crossed her own timeline, and stole some DNA for a new clone body. It didn’t sound like that big of a deal.

There was one more major recruit on the list, and now that Team Matic was back, it was up to them to complete the mission, as the Matic girls were still too untrained to handle it on their own. Mirage was still presumably in enemy territory in the Goldilocks Corridor with Niobe Schur. Everyone was getting ready to go. They were checking their IMS and PRU systems. They were running a preflight check on the Ambassador. The hot pocket didn’t have much trapped heat, but it was purged anyway, so it could be as empty as possible. Mateo was looking for leaks in his helmet. Onboard diagnostics were capable of detecting such things, but as a point of redundancy, it was prudent to also have an external means of confirming the safety of the suit using an unsynced tester.

“You’re not going,” Leona told him.

“What?”

“You’re staying here.”

“You think you need to protect me?” Mateo question.

“No, of course not. Your daughters get one day a year with you. You can’t waste that time.”

“I’m on a different team,” he began. “I encouraged her to form her team, but I still need to stay with you.”

“I appreciate how you feel, but whether she says it or not, she needs you.” He had three daughters, but Leona was referring specifically to Romana, who was the youngest, and perhaps most vulnerable right now. “Ramses is staying too, for his work.”

“Have you talked to her about this?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good. I need to show you something.” He held out a hand, and when she took it, teleported them both to a farming dome. This wasn’t, strictly speaking, necessary when vertical farming had long ago replaced traditional methods, but Hrockas put a lot of effort into transporting live organisms on an arkship, and he didn’t want to waste it. Arkships were very rare vessels designed to store tons of organic material, such as seeds, and flora and fauna DNA. They were meant to seed life on other worlds, but the government didn’t just hand them out to anyone who bothered to fill out an application. It wasn’t even clear whether a single other one had ever been launched as the ethics of them proved to be the most complex and divisive of all. It was pretty insane that Hrockas managed to get one. He must have been able to prove that this rock was otherwise completely inorganic.

“This is nice. Come here often?” Leona asked in half sincerity.

They were standing by a tall fence, which was an even funnier thing to have here since there was no such thing as trespassers, or animals that needed to be kept penned in. Mateo had strung a bunch of different types of fruits from the top rail. A couple of them had apparently burst open, and there was fruit splattered on the wood and ground. “I was just practicing, and wanted my new abilities to be a surprise, but I guess you’re gonna need an early demonstration.”

“What new abilities?”

“Not really new, we just haven’t really been talking about it.” Mateo put his hands together in front of his chest in an unusual configuration. He then split them apart, leaving his left hand out where it was while pulling his right back towards him. A holographic arrow materialized between them, clarifying that he had been pretending to string it on a bow. He looked over at his wife, and winked. Then he let go of the imaginary arrow, and sent it flying towards the fruit. It struck a passion fruit, which burst open, and splattered all over.

She was shocked. “How did you do that?”

“I think I have that figured out.” He sauntered towards the fence, and pulled what remained of the passion fruit from its string. He tossed it over to her, so she could feel that it was real. “It took me a while, but then I remembered. The timonite.”

“You still have timonite in your system?”

“I don’t know, but it was definitely on my hands, which is why a lemon would explode if I ever tried to pick it up.”

“Yeah, I remember you doing that for fun in the Third Rail. We got that fixed.”

“Exactly,” Mateo agreed. “A god gave me telekinesis. I haven’t touched a single thing with my bare hands in months.”

“Oh, right. That was telekinesis.” She shook her head. “Wait, no, those were different hands. We transferred your consciousness to a new substrate. That body is gone. You shouldn’t have that anymore.”

He shrugged. “I guess it transferred too. I don’t know how telekinesis works. Do you?”

“No,” she admitted. “It’s not a time power as far as I can figure.”

He started talking with his hands. “I think it...integrated with my illusion powers, and created something new. We were wondering what my specialty was. Olimpia is better at invisibility. Marie is better at impersonation. This is my thing. I can make solid holograms.”

She shook her head again. “The god guy said that it was just really close to your hands. You weren’t meant to do anything at that great of a distance.”

“It mutated,” Mateo decided. “Again, we don’t know how it works. But it’s the best explanation. I’m not that strong right now, but with more practice, I might be able to create a giant fist, and smash into that fence. I’m Ms. Marvel!”

“Maybe in the movies, not the comics.”

“Well, our ship is named after the movie version, so...”

“Why are you showing me this? I mean, I’m glad I know now, and I wish you had told me sooner, but what does this have to do with the mission?”

“Leona, I can make an impenetrable force field for the VA out of light. I have an endless supply of missiles that I could send to an enemy.”

“Oh, hold on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You literally just said that you need more practice, and if the arrow is the best you can do right now, I believe it. I’m not sending you out with this. I have half a mind to try to figure out how to suppress your pattern, so you can spend the next 365 days training with Prince Darko.”

“We need Mirage back,” Mateo reasoned. “I’m your best chance of getting her back safely. You need me.”

“This is a stealth mission,” she contended. “We’re going to be invisible. No one from the Exin Empire should know that we were ever there. I don’t even want our allies to know that we were there, save for Mirage herself. We are not ready for an assault. You’re not just unpracticed, you’re a liability. I was willing to discuss you coming along, and even bringing your daughters, but you just made the decision for me. You’re grounded until further notice.”

“You’re grounding me?” he questioned. “Like a child?”

“No, like a sky jockey.” She sighed. “Show this to Dubra. She has experience with lots of powers. We don’t have time to argue, and I’m not interested in your complaints. We’re going to get Mirage without you. I have spoken.”

He didn’t want to get into a real fight either, especially since he would definitely lose. She was the Captain, and her face certainly showed that she was giving him an order in that capacity, instead of as his wife and partner. He nodded respectfully. “We can maintain contact with the quantum messenger on the Ambassador, right?”

“We’ll be technically reachable, yes, but I want you to stay busy. They just opened a new scenic train in one of the domes. Right now, the landscapes are all computer-generated holograms, but I still hear it’s nice. It goes around the entire circumference of the dome, from a few kilometers above. So it takes about four hours to go from start to finish. Why don’t you get to know the girls there? You could have a nice lunch, talk about your hopes and dreams...”

“You can’t force this, Leona.”

“You can’t get anywhere with them if you don’t try.”

“So your suggestion is for us to ride around in a circle?”

“Very funny.” She paused. “It has slanted windows. You can look right down at the geographic features.”

“The fake features,” he pointed out.

“The topography is already there. That’s why Hrockas chose that spot on this planet, because it’s more textured than other regions. They just need to paraterraform it, which will take some time. The holograms are a stopgap.”

“You’re a stopgap,” he muttered under his breath, actually like a child.

“What was that?”

“I said were I you,” he lied.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” she lied back. She lowered him down by the shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead. “Qapla’!” She disappeared.

Mateo took only one moment to look back at his hanging fruit, and contemplate what he might do to accelerate his own training. By the time he teleported back to Castledome, the Vellani Ambassador was gone. It would never return.

He tried to call them on their comms disc, which were synced through a quantum connection to increase the range, but no one responded. They were probably too busy to deal with his incessant nagging. He reached out to Romana instead, who said that she was in Dojodome. It wasn’t just one big dome with thousands of dojos. It was modeled on Japanese architecture in general, so there were also ponds, gardens, and empty spaces. This was one of the big problems with the whole one dome per theme concept. A lot of themes just weren’t grand enough in scope to take up the whole 1.3 million acre area. Your only choices at that point, really, would be copying and pasting the same structures over and over again, or just leaving some of it as unused desert.

“Are you guys training?” he asked once he had teleported to Dojodome.

“Yeah, it’s scheduled as a solo day,” Romana answered, “so we each do our own thing. It’s how Uncle Prince Darko gets his breaks.”

“Do you really call him that?” he laughed.

“L-O-L, sometimes, he doesn’t like it. Hey, I thought you were going off to the Goldilocks Corridor. We said our good lucks at breakfast.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Mateo said, “but Leona kicked me out. She was right, they don’t need me out there. I want to spend it with you three, if you’re not too busy.”

“No, this is a perfect time. I was just gonna go for an extra run.” She fiddled with her armband. “It looks like Dubra’s at the South Pole at the moment, probably for a swim. And Kivi’s in...where is that? She’s on the move. Oh, that’s probably the Terminator Track. Ooo, I bet she’s on a date with Lincoln. I don’t have his location ID, but I’m sure he’s there too.”

“What’s the Terminator Track?” he asked.

“The pod’s speed is based on the rotation of Castlebourne in order to maintain a fixed position relative to the sun at that latitude. I think there are four pods. One is in perpetual sunset, and another at sunrise. The other two are in daylight, and nighttime...or is it twilight? Maybe there are five. I can’t remember, but they follow each other on the track.”

“Hrockas really thought of everything, huh?”

“I’ve helped,” Romana bragged, “but yeah, he pretty much had the big picture painted before I got here.”

Mateo took Romana’s arm to look at the little dots that indicated where all of Romana’s friends were currently located on the satnav, paying special attention to Kivi’s and Dubra’s. “I’ll let you do what you were planning on doing, and let the others do the same. But can we agree to meet one year and one day from now?”

Romana thought about it for half a moment, debating in her head whether she would try to make her sisters accommodate a daddy-daughters date this year. Having come to a decision, she nodded once, and said, “okay. What are you gonna do today instead?”

Mateo looked around the dojo, eventually zeroing in on a wooden dummy on the other side of the room. Drawing inspiration from his own comment from earlier, he reached his arm back, and shoved it in the air towards the dummy. A hologram of his fist flew away from him, as the arrow had before. It crashed into the training apparatus, bursting it apart. He smiled and admired his own work. “I have some training of my own to do.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 1772: Archer

< > Table of Contents

I survived, against all odds. A group of men abducted me, and held me captive in a barn. Once they were ready, they released me into the woods, and told me that they would give me a five-minute head start. They expected me to run as far as I could, but I circled back, and stole one of their vehicles. When I look back on that moment, I’m filled with regret at how disappointing and anticlimactic that ordeal was. That was my chance; my chance to see what it feels like to take a life. I wouldn’t have gotten in any trouble for it, and any of them would have deserved it. I only ran, because some idiot left the key in the ignition, and didn’t give me a choice. Had I tried to fight back at that point, it would have looked suspicious. If I had just gone for it, and ended up not liking it, at least I would have known the truth. As it stands, I feel like I don’t know who I am. Am I a killer? Am I no better than those rich bastards who liked to hunt the most dangerous game? I try to move on with my life, but these questions nag at me, and refuse to relent. I wake up one day, and find myself on autopilot. No hope to stop myself, I drive to the prison to visit the ringleader. He acts like he saw this coming. Does he see something in me that no one else does? I ask him why he did it, and what turned him into the kind of person he is. Since I’m not a lawyer, this conversation isn’t privileged, so I have to worry about them listening in. I frame my interrogation like a victim who is trying to get some closure and move past it. I get the sense that he understands why I’m really here, and he frames his responses to help me work through my existential crisis. When the hunt began, someone flung an arrow at my feet, and nearly struck me. As it turns out, this is the guy who did that. He wanted me to know that he had my life in his hands. The arrow, according to him, is the purest weapon history ever came up with. I don’t know what that means, but my attention shifts to it, and I know that I have to find out.

I start learning archery on my own. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m into, so I build a range in my basement all by myself, and let internet videos teach me the basics. From there, it’s just a matter of practicing. I breathe archery, and dream about it. It consumes my whole being, and before I know it, I’m an expert marksman. I keep wondering if I’ll get tired of it, or if I’ll eventually stop feeling the need to continue, but that day never comes. I have to do more. I have to know how far that arrow flies. I feel like a junkie, chasing after something I’ll never get. The difference is that I think I can get it. I think all I need is some better targets. Out of the dozen people who tried to kill me two years ago, one of them got an easy sentence. He cooperated with law enforcement, and basically sealed all the others’ fates. He was apparently new to the crew, so he hadn’t killed anyone yet. He’s the only one not still in prison, so I decide he’ll be my first. I can’t tell you how good it feels when I watch that arrowhead sink into his kidney. It’s like witnessing a miracle; I’m euphoric. The high doesn’t last, and I must find another. Vigilante is not the word I can use for myself, though that would be a fantastic excuse. The truth is that my experience screwed me up more than I realized at first, and I have become obsessed with understanding why those people did what they did. After killing a few random criminals here and there, I determine that I’ve been sloppy and unorganized. If I want to hold onto this feeling, I have to become something new. I form my own crew, but we don’t go after normal people. We go after the rich.

Microstory 1771: Arrow

< > Table of Contents

I know what they want; what they’re expecting. They have obviously done this before, and they know how it goes, because all of their victims have been predictable. They want to get as deep in the woods as possible as fast as possible. But I don’t know where I am, or how far I am from civilization. I could wind up heading straight for some kind of secondary base camp, where an entire regiment is waiting to finish the job. Things used to be a lot easier for me. I had a pretty cushy life, and I didn’t worry myself with the state of the rest of the world. I’m sure that’s why they chose me, because they’re angry, and I’m an easy target. Well, I’m about to show them just how wrong they are. I am not going to make it easy on them. I’m not going to run as far as I can. I’m going to hide, and find an opportunity to hunt them right back. They’re counting on the fact that I’ve been so sheltered. They think it gives them some kind of advantage over me, like they’re the only ones who are all right with getting their hands dirty. I may have less experience than them, but there has been a darkness inside me since I was a boy, and they just gave me permission to let it out. If I manage to kill any of these people in my pursuit of freedom and safety, no one will blame me for it. It was self-defense. They may have all the weapons, and probably even the skill. But I have something they could never understand: the ability to shut out my feelings, and turn feral. I’m no straight arrow, but I don’t drink all that much, because if I want to lose my inhibitions, all I have to do is let go of my grasp on the moral code that I developed to avoid getting in trouble. That’s the only reason it’s there. I don’t really value human life, and I certainly don’t value these people’s lives. If they want violence tonight, they’ll get it, and they’ll be sorry they asked.

Just as I’m crossing the tree line, an arrow nearly catches me in the ankle. They promised they would wait five minutes before they began the hunt. I don’t think they have their eyes on breaking that promise. They’re clearly a cocky bunch who have no reason to suspect that I might actually survive this. I think that was just one of them showing off his bow and arrow skills. That’s good to know. When I think I’m out of eyesight, I speed up. I run as fast as I can, as far as I can, using up nearly all the energy I can muster at once. Once a minute has passed, I stop. I turn around, and head back towards the barn, but at an angle. I walk slowly and carefully, avoiding every fallen leaf on the ground. I spend the four minutes I have left getting right back to the starting point without alerting anyone to my presence. They’re going to walk straight into the woods, thinking that I’ll be a kilometer away before they catch up to me. I start to hear their voices as I get closer. I can’t tell what they’re saying, but their tone doesn’t sound like they know what’s up. My plan is working. What I’m gonna do is make it back up to the barn, kill whoever they left behind to guard it, steal their weapons, and then go after the rest, one by one. I stay low, and peek around a tree. Hm. I don’t see anyone there at all. Did they really all go off on the hunt? What a bunch of morons. I wait for a moment just in case before bolting towards the barn, getting myself drenched in the floodlights, but not staying visible too long. I find an old pickup truck inside. Perhaps there are some weapons stored in here. There aren’t, but the key is in the ignition. This forces me to admit to myself that they left me with no excuse to fight back and kill people. So I reluctantly get in the truck, and drive to the police station two counties over.

Microstory 1706: Upon Altar

< > Table of Contents

Arms and legs tied down, stretched across the altar, I don’t scream or cry. I get the feeling that these people consider the struggle to be part of the ritual, and I can’t give them the satisfaction. There are dozens of them, chanting and watching me. There is no escape, even if I were to have broken free of the two people who were leading me down the stone path in the first place. I don’t know where I am, so where could I even go? No, this is where I die, and if I can’t go out on my own terms, I at least can’t give my killers the satisfaction of knowing they were responsible for my last words. The last time I spoke was to my daughter as I headed into the fields for the day. They were loving and kind, and that is what the universe will remember of me; not this. The guy who seems to be in charge of the cult, or maybe just in charge of the ceremony, approaches from the steps on the other side. He’s holding a goblet with both hands, a knife placed precariously over the lips, threatening to slip off to the ground. No one would get hurt from this, but it would probably be pretty embarrassing for him. Hoping to make this happen, I jerk what little of my body I’m still able to move towards him, and sort of chirp. He’s startled, and almost loses the knife, but he manages to grab it in time. I return to my stoic nature, unfazed and quiet. The leader clears his throat, and recovers. He speaks in tongues, or perhaps just a language I don’t so much as recognize. He’s praying to his god, or the demonhorn, or some nonsense like that. I just lie there and reflect on my life until he seems ready to finalize the sacrifices. His minions lift up my torso and place the goblet under my back. Okay, I thought it was uncomfortable before, but this is insane. He’s obviously planning to stab me, and let the blood fill the goblet, but he doesn’t get a chance. An arrow suddenly pierces his neck, and he falls over.

I wiggle until the goblet tips over, but I can’t get it out from under my back. Still, it’s enough for me to face the action. Everyone in the death cult is fighting one solitary warrior. They manage to get in a few good hits, but he’s powerful and relentless. I get the sense that he’s not here to save me, but that he has some kind of personal vendetta against these people, and I just happen to be in the right place at the right time. They probably sacrificed his spouse or child exactly one year ago, just like this, and he’s finally getting his revenge. He’s nearly gotten it. Only he is left standing, but then the leader gets back up. He breaks the arrow apart, and then stabs it right into the lone warrior’s eye, twisting it with a fiery anger. Just for good measure, he pulls the arrowhead out—a little bit of the eye comes with it—and stabs it in the other. The lone warrior falls down, and begins to die. The leader takes a moment to catch his breath before returning to me. Even without his followers, the ritual must continue. He retrieves the goblet from under me, and restarts the chanting; or as much as he can without a voice. He’s more just moving his lips around, and wheezing. Blood from his own neck wound leaks out, and drips into the cup. Able to stand the blood loss no longer, he falls on top of his enemy, leaving the goblet at my side. Blood red smoke begins to rise from it, and swirls around above me. The particles coalesce into a form, and then a figure, and then a man. He’s straddling me and grimacing. He looks over at the carnage, pleased to see so much pain and death. He looks back at me. “You have freed me from the void. I am forever in your debt. What would you have me do for you first, master?”

Microstory 1644: Fickle Fortune

< > Table of Contents

Time is pretty complicated, and time travel makes it more complicated. There are those who don’t see linear time, or who have no use for it. Some can go back, some can skip, some can slow it down. Some can enter spatio-temporal dimensions, or even spatial dimensions. Some universes take this to insane levels, like Salmonverse, or parts of the Composite Universe. But there is one general constant, and that is that time still does move forward, one second...at a time. It’s just certain people that are manipulating it, or moving about in some weird way. You can probably kind of see where I’m going with this, and it’s that this universe today is not like that. If you’ve read enough comic books, or listened to/watched soap operas, you’ll notice some funny things going on. One particular superhero was a high school sophomore when he was introduced, and even though later stories could take place after decades, he’ll still be a sophomore. Or maybe they show him in college, but a new writer will come on board, and want to go back to those high school days, and no one in the story will acknowledge these discrepancies. It’s called the sliding timescale, and it’s generally used to maintain the general concept behind a character whilst being able to introduce real-world developments, such as technological advancements, or topical global conflicts. Superhero A didn’t have a cellphone when his first issue came out in the 1950s, but he does in the 2020s, even though he would be an old man by now, if not just dead. The point is that this is done for practical reasons. The artists want to keep the story going, and they want to keep revisiting the same characters, but they don’t want to be stuck in a particular time period, and they don’t really want anyone to die...at least not permanently.

Fickleverse is like that, except it’s real, and the residents are fully aware of it. They’re so aware that it doesn’t even seem strange to them. Time does not flow linearly, and it does not flow at the same rate—or even always in the same direction— for everyone, and this doesn’t generally bother them. Some children stay young for an extended period of time. Others will age too fast, often because some profound moment in their lives has transformed them into a different person, which only the illusion of the passage of time can meaningfully express. For some, they’re still driving around in petrol automobiles, and not presently cognizant of the fact that people in the next town over have hovercars. There are some other consequences too. In other universes, shows and movies will cast actors to pretend to be their character, but something will change, and that role will have to be recast. That will happen in fickleverse too. Your daughter might not just age before your eyes, but may even become a completely different person overnight. She’ll have the same name, and she’ll believe she’s your daughter, and you’ll believe she’s your daughter, but you will notice that she’s not the same daughter you had yesterday. You’ll just accept this, and you’ll love her just as much, because that’s how the world works. The interesting part about this, and how it pertains to the bulkverse, is that it’s unclear how time will affect a visitor, so it’s best to just avoid it. The Ochivari, in particular, can’t make heads or tails of how it works, and what their environmental potential is. Can the world be saved? Are the humans destined to destroy their Earth? When time can go in reverse as easily as it moves forward, there’s no way to know what has happened, let alone what will happen. So they just leave it be, and chalk it up to a hopeless cause.

Microstory 1567: An Assassin’s City

< > Table of Contents

Prompt

All of my friends are dead now, and I’m the only assassin left. I’m just waiting to be taken out next.

Botner

I have a high view of the city, and I like to spend time out of my window. However, in this case, I didn’t even see a thing... A nice breeze is blowing by as a gust of wind... There are no screams or fire or anything, yet...I glance around and notice that my balcony door is open, and the light is on in my room. I think to myself for a moment and rush over to my room... I see that my body has disappeared. I sense something of course, but I had never suspected this... I race through the dark building into the grass field where everyone has been getting slaughtered. I throw up all the bodies I see... Bodies of the villagers who have been stabbed, stoned, burned, and who have been eaten alive. And some other stuff. I walk towards the stone monument and begin building a city, and for the first time I do it without killing anyone. In the end, I have an entire town, and have even created an army... This is going to be fun! All it takes is one round to read it, but I took my time to enjoy it. It sounds a little bland but it is a fun read anyway. It is quite a tale and I look forward to the next installment. This is a different style of writing than anything I have...

Conclusion

...seen before, and it’s slowly becoming my favorite. Still, I have so much work to do, so I put the book down, and get back to it. I crawl back into my body, and head for the town square. The city is holding a parade in honor of me, to thank me for building their city without killing people. I don’t want to go, because that’s not my kind of thing, but I’m obligated, because this is actually more about them than me. I sit there waving, and pretend to smile, and let them applaud me. When the celebration is over, I decide that my time here is as well. I must leave now, and let these people thrive on their own. I am designer and creator; not god and ruler. Perhaps I shall make a new city after this, which can trade with my first one, and they can teach each other new ways of living happy. I did this to protect myself against the rival assassin team, but that was centuries ago, and I don’t think I have to worry about them anymore. I slip away without telling anyone, and hope that my people do not feel abandoned. I hope they understand that this is what’s best for them now. As I’m crossing the outer border, I take one last look at what I have created, and smile for real, full of love and peace. A paralytic arrow comes out of nowhere, and strikes me in the back. I’m about to fall, but my archnemesis catches me, and forces me to watch as his sons and daughters burn my beloved city to the ground. Then, and only then...does he cut off my head, and let me die.

The Advancement of Leona Matic: August 30, 2176

« < » > Table of Contents

Leona wasn’t upset about losing Serif back in pocket three, because she had already resolved to go back at the end of the day. She calmly handed Étude off to Hokusai and Loa, who were best suited for taking care of a child, and debriefed the rest of the crew on the situation she had left. Then she sat down against the former entrance to the Ubiña pocket she had just come from, and waited for midnight.

About a quarter ‘til, Paige strolled up with her arms crossed, looking at her like she was a sad puppy. “Honestly, I was skeptical that your little plan to investigate Annora’s murder was at all viable.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Leona replied.

Paige squatted down, wincing as if she felt any strain from the move. Cybernetic programmers believed these microexpressions to be so ingrained in the human cerebral experience, that they happen even when they shouldn’t be needed. The appearance of pain is brought about by an evolutionary trait that promoted survival within a tribe in man’s early days. See someone else get hurt by something, and you know to avoid it. Researchers compare this to phantom limb syndrome, wherein an amputee continues to feel a missing body part, even once it’s removed. Paige felt nothing when she commanded her muscles to contract in such a way to misalign her center of gravity, and destabilize the support of her body weight, but she made it look like it did for Leona’s benefit. She was trying to endear herself to Leona, as an adult would to a child, so she could get something out of her. “That’s not I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

Again, in order to ingratiate herself, Paige lovingly pushed a lock of Leona’s hair behind her ear. It was a silly and predictable tactic; one that can be found in any given romantic comedy film, but only because it was effective. “I didn’t believe in this mission before, but I believe in you now. And I believe you have an obligation to continue on without her. Going back for her is not what she wanted. It’s up to you to move on to the next pocket, and gather more information.”

“And I’ll do just that,” Leona agreed. “Come tomorrow. After I get Serif back.”

“We don’t have that kind of time. It’s one day to you, but three hundred and sixty-five for us. The trail goes cold while you’re gone.”

“Trails go cold after a matter of days,” Leona argued. “By that logic, this whole endeavor is pointless. It’s a cold case now, so it might as well wait another year.”

“That’s horrible logic, and you know that. Someone may die before you get to ask them any questions. They may have a heart attack one year and one day from now, and they had critical information, but you failed to get to them in time.”

Leona scoffed, but had no retort.

Paige eyed her carefully. “My systems tell me that you are not being persuaded, and that any future words I try have little chance of success.”

“Your system’s right.”

Paige took Leona by the shoulder, but not affectionately. “Then we do this the easy way. Well...easy for me.” She used her considerable strength to peel Leona off the floor, and swing her over to pocket one.

Leona tried to fight against it, but quickly had to resign herself to the fact that resistance was futile. She knew Paige’s upgrades fairly well, and unlike in the movies, there was no cleverly placed thermal exhaust port to exploit. Transhumans were built for resilience, with multiple redundancies. She was on her way to pocket one, and that was that.

Before midnight hit, Hokusai came over. “It’s okay. We can tell her the real reason she can’t go back and get Serif.”

“What would that be?” Leona asked.

“I believe she has to save my life tomorrow.”

When Serif returned to the timestream in 2176, the pocket dimension that the substandard teleporter had stranded her in was noticeably larger. The boundaries had expanded beyond where they once were, leaving new land, full of vegetation.

Saga approached as Serif was admiring it with fear. “It wasn’t always like this. When the walls move, the land is born barren. Only later do things begin to grow, but they do, and they do it spontaneously.”

“Isn’t the dimension increaser still just a baby?”

“She is,” Saga confirmed, “but her power may never be controlled. It...emanates from her. I don’t think she’s a choosing one, or a paramount.” She paused. “I think she’s salmon. Her ability to make this place bigger is being done to her, rather than her using it willfully.”

“And the other one? The one who can make people out of practically nothing?”

“He’s done nothing so far, but that gives us little hope that it won’t ever start automatically.”

“Why?”

Saga turned away from the boundary, and prepared to go back to her housing unit. “Because girls generally develop faster. It’s science, I can’t explain it.”

As if on cue, someone turned the sun back off, which was apparently something that always happened whenever someone returned from outside the timestream, and not just when they originated from outside the pocket dimension. Saga started walking away.

“Do we have any ideas for what we’re gonna do about this?” Serif called up to her.

Saga did not stop walking, nor did she turn around. She simply replied, “no.”

The next morning, she found herself being shaken awake by Camden. “I think you’re gonna be needed!” he cried.

“Damn, son! Needed for what?”

“It’s time to close the loop.” He dragged her out of her room. The door that was supposed to be leading to the outside in the pocket dimension, was actually leading to somewhere else entirely. It looked like they were in some kind of small town, but it had been demolished by something terrible. Saga had used her salmon chooser power to open one of her special shifted timespace doorways. She was just running back through to the other side, to help carry what appeared to be a body. As the group drew nearer, Serif could see that Hokusai was injured by a freaking arrow, and being carried by Loa, a different version of Saga, and a woman Serif recognized from a photo as Saga’s late wife, Andromeda. This was some moment in the past, on Durus.

“I’m sorry, you can’t come through,” Future!Saga said to everybody. Then she closed the door. “You have to help her,” she then said to Serif.

Serif was frazzled, and still trying to wake up.

“Come on! Please! Her future is not set in stone just because you know she ends up on this ship in the future. She can still die in the past and create a new timeline.”

“No, I know,” Serif stammered. “But...I need that out of her body. I can heal her fine, but I don’t know what to do with that thing!”

“I do,” Camden said, presumably due to field medical training he received while working at the IAC. “Sit her up,” he instructed. Once she was held up in the sitting position, Camden place his ear on Hokusai’s chest, and delicately twirled the arrow.

Though still mostly out of it, Hokusai began to scream in pain.

“Why the hell did you do that!?” Serif yelled in a matching pitch.

“I had to see if the head was still on, which it is, so we’re lucky for that. But this is the bad part. Well...one of them.”

“Why?”

In response, Camden indelicately jammed the arrow further into Hokusai’s chest, so that it would come out the other end. Now she was fully awake, but only for a few seconds. The pain was so unbearable, she fell completely unconscious. Camden masterfully whipped out a pocket knife, from the pocket of his sleepwear shorts, because he apparently slept with it. He used the pliers to break the...uhh, feather part off. Just as quickly as before, he then pulled the rest of the arrow out, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Do not do this at home, kids,” he said to the two of them. “I only did it, because you have superpowers. Use them now.”

Serif and Saga laid Hokusai onto her side, so the former could breathe her magical healing nanites into both of her wounds. In minutes, she was almost fully healed, and totally awake. They vaguely explained what happened, but said nothing that could alter he decisions for the future. Then Saga reopened a doorway portal, and sent her back to her own time period.

Leona was not received well in pocket three. Some of the most unruly passengers were placed here. There was this whole mathematical algorithm to determine who they could put where. Sprinkling the most dangerous ones in with everybody else risked creating issues in all pockets, but putting them all in one place wasn’t a great idea either. They ended up employing a little bit of both, doing everything they could to avoid grouping those who could poorly influence each other, or incite unrest amongst the people. Still, pocket one was definitely the worst, and the worst one for her to be trying to continue this investigation without Serif’s enthusiasm. She tried to calm them down, but they were not happy. They were positively convinced that they lived in more unfortunate conditions. Of course, each pocket was one hundred percent identical to the others, for this very reason. But that didn’t stop these people from claiming theirs was smaller, or had more durry snails, or just smelled bad. Their stories were ever-changing, and constantly contradicted each other. It was just impossible to please them, and this news of murder wasn’t helping anything.

Many had assumed the portals back to the ship proper would eventually reopen. Upon learning from Leona that this might not be unachievable, their anger only increased. One man. One. He was not like the others, and fortunately he was strong too, because he was the only thing standing between Leona, and the mob who wanted to tear her apart. He helped her upstairs, and into a room that he could lock. He then lifted up the bed and barricaded the window with it. They could already hear people climbing up the side to get in.

Leona caught her breath, and inspected the severity of her wounds. Just a few scrapes and bruises. It could have been so much worse. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I knew people wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t think it would be like this. Pockets three and four were no picnic, but they were at least civil.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said, pushing his dresser in front of the door. “I’ve done what I can to keep them out, but they’ll probably get in eventually.”

“You’ll be able to hold them off, though, right. And they have to get tired, and see reason...at some point.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I won’t be able to help you.”

“I know it’s asking a lot,” Leona began, “but if you could just—”

He interrupted her, “it’s not that.” He was slowly walking towards her. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to save the damsel in distress.” He tried to do the hair behind the ear thing, but she slapped his hand away.

“That is not happening!” she declared.

He laughed. “No, it’s not. This is.” He reached over and tore Leona’s emergency teleporter off of her shirt.

“No, don’t!”

“I hope you survive,” he said to her. “I really do. But I gotta get the hell out of here.”

“The ship is smaller than this dimension!” she insisted.

“Goodbye.” He activated the teleporter, and disappeared.

« < » > Table of Contents

Void: Star-Crossed (Part V)

« < » > Entire Story

One of the conditions of letting the people of Durus vote in a new administration to replace the provisional government was that anyone serving in the provisional government would be allowed to run. Prosivor Drumpf was the only one exempt from this requirement, since he made all his cronies look bad when his hatespeech was broadcast live on LoaTV. A not insignificant number of people from the provisional government were either reëlected to their original positions, or to new ones, even those who really shouldn’t be there. Yet, the people have spoken, so Saga et al. would have to accept it, and move on.

One of Andromeda’s conditions was that she be allowed to step down from her leadership role as well. She enjoyed using her time power to build up the city, but she didn’t want people looking to her for answers. She just wanted to live her life for herself, and now, with Saga. The two of them had grown incredibly close over the course of the last year. Since their first, they had gone on dozens of other dates, and had even technically moved in together. Five Earthan months ago, it was becoming clear that not everyone in the original two cities were interested in staying. They wanted to spread out across the planet, like their ancestors had with their little towns. And so Andromeda built a mobile home. Since there were no city streets on Durus to worry about, she was free to make it as wide as she wanted, which meant there was enough room for the two of them, plus Loa, and her girlfriend, Hokusai. Loa was using her time power to stream their construction efforts in a sort of documentary designed to showcase all the good Andromeda was doing. It was Hokusai’s job to keep their home in operation. They probably had the most luxurious and technologically advanced home in the world; one that was capable to piloting itself to other settlements, where Andromeda would start laying the foundations for neighborhood isolates.

The most recent of these isolates was a neighborhood that called itself Dawidux. When the Earthans came in the Deathspring, they banded together and protested against giving refugee aid. As time went on, and the “Earthan problem” persisted, they gradually transitioned their goals to that of ethnic cleansing. They started covering themselves with hoods, and lynching Earthans that had strayed too far from the herd, reminiscent of a darker time in Earth’s own history. Scholars today believe they, in fact, got all their ideas from the Nazi and white nationalism movements, which was ultimately ironic, because if any Nazis or white supremacists were on Durus, they would be treated just as poorly as any other Earthan. Provisor Drumpf was rumored to be a powerful leader in the Dawiduxian movement, and though a direct connection was never proven, he was quite clear in his sympathy for them, as were other members of government, some of whom remain in power.

Though, of course, Andromeda was adamantly opposed to Dawiduxian principles, she had no choice but to build their neighborhood for them. She promised to do what she could to help restore the world to its former glory, and even improve upon it. The fact that she was in support of Earthans, and lived with two of them, appeared to be completely lost on the Dawiduxians. The hate-mongers needed something from someone they hated, and so they were going to carefully look away and pretend they didn’t notice, only expressing their outrage once Andromeda was done helping them. That day was today. Saga and Andromeda were presently walking on the edge of the neighborhood on a final inspection, to see if anything needed to be fixed, or added. Things started not feeling quite right, and they realized the residents were comfortable enough with their neighborhood to make their move.

“There’s a fire!” Saga called out, seeing the red and orange blaze in the distance.”

“That’s where we parked our home!” Andromeda cried.

“Hokuloa!” Saga screamed, referring to Hokusai and Loa’s shipper name.

They started running, but a horde of Dawiduxians deliberately stepped into their way.

“Please!” Andromeda begged. “There are people in there!”

“That’s the point,” one of them said luridly.

“You would murder two innocent people? We’ve already given you what you want! You asked for a neighborhood of your own, and you’ve got it.”

“That does not absolve you of your sins. You have conspired with the Earthans, and you will be punished for it.”

“What exactly is your problem with us?” Saga questioned.

Saga stepped back, in sync with the leader, as he stepped forward. “This is our world, and you have invaded it.”

“We didn’t ask to come here.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, “but Earth asked you to leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

He smiled and shook his head, like a Christian wondering why a Muslim hasn’t figured out that Jesus Christ is the Messiah. “We have mage remnants on our side.”

They said nothing.

“What, you thought it was just you? Lots of remnants are part of our cause. They can see things others can’t, and they have told us that Earth sent us the worst of their worst.”

“Again. What the hell are you talking about?”

He looked to the air above his head for the right words. “You’re like lice. On a dog.”

“Do you even know what a dog is?” Saga asked bitingly.

He ignored her. “You’re actually the bad lice. All the other lice are just trying to live their lives in the dog’s feathers, but the bad lice keep raping them, so the dog’s owner uses a special machine to suck all the bad lice away. Durus was that machine, and it brought you all here so Earth wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore. But we don’t want you either.”

Saga just stared at them. “I don’t..even know...how to respond to that. There was so much wrong with what you said, I—I just..can’t even. How do you argue against something so absurd when your opponent is too dumb to know that dogs don’t even have feathers!”

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“There’s no such thing as good lice.”

“So what?”

“We aren’t rapists, and you have zero evidence that we are. You’ve just..been told this? And you accept it?”

The Dawiduxian scoffed. “We don’t have to listen to your lies. We were perfectly happy with building a wall separating our cities, but now you’ve infected people’s minds, and our only option now is to just rid of you altogether.”

“What does that mean?”

He spoke above their heads, “you have them?”

Saga and Andromeda turned around to see Hokusai and Loa being dragged towards them. They tried to run to them, but were held back.

“Yes, they’re alive,” the leader said, like he had done them a favor. “And one of them will remain that way, as long as she does what she’s told.”

“What are you telling?” Andromeda asked.

He nodded to two of his goons. One of them handed Andromeda a knife, while the other handed one to Loa. “You have been found guilty of literally sleeping with the enemy. You have two choices. You can either die in each other’s arms, or you can excise the demons from your souls, and join us.”

Saga knew neither Andromeda, nor Loa, would do such a thing. Had they not been respectively in love, they still wouldn’t kill guiltless and harmless people. That just wasn’t in their nature. This was a waste of everybody’s time. Perhaps the Dawiduxians knew it wouldn’t work, and were just screwing with them. Or maybe they were really delusional enough to think they were on the right side of history, and were confident everyone else would eventually see the light.

“Andromeda, maybe you could build a nice little cage for these people?”

The leader laughed. “You could try.” He nodded to an old woman at his side. “She’s a power dampener, though, so the most you’ll get is a psychic nosebleed.”

“He’s right,” Andromeda said quietly to Saga. “I’ve been trying this whole time.”

“You have sixty seconds to choose,” the leader said. With another nod, he ordered several of his people to lift their bows and arrows. One of the arrows slipped away, though, and flew right into Hokusai’s chest.

“Hokusai!” Loa screamed.

The one who had shot her was really just a kid, who was mortified by what he had done. It was clearly an accident.

“Andy! Be ready!” Saga yelled. She took the knife out of her hand, and used a skill she had learned on Tribulation Island to throw it into the power dampener’s neck.

The dampener didn’t have to die to lose control of her power, giving Andromeda the edge she needed. In anger, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she pulled a platform of stone out of the ground, and shot them up into the air. The four of them managed to stay on, but so did several Dawiduxians. In her own anger, Loa started fighting them alongside Saga, until they had thrown them all off the precipice. By the time Andromeda had calmed down, the tower was hundreds of meters in the air, and leaning to one side. She had built parapets to hold onto, so they wouldn’t slip off themselves, but the tower was not going to last much longer. They could already feel it threaten to tip over completely.

Some other version of Saga appeared from a hatchway in the floor. “Come on!” she called out to them. Andromeda and Loa carried Hokusai through the hatchway, while Saga took up the rear. Just as she was climbing through, the tower was starting its race back to the ground. When they exited at the bottom of the tower, though, it was still standing. The other Saga had magically transported them a few moments into the past. A Dawiduxian that Loa had pushed off the edge landed on the ground next to them, so they ran away from the new building, looking for safety. They then closed their timeloop as they watched the tower topple over, and destroy the majority of the neighborhood that Andromeda had just constructed.

“Thank you,” Saga said to herself.

“I need to get her out of here,” Future!Saga explained, indicating Hokusai, who was still alive, but barely.

“Where will you take her?” Loa asked.

“There’s gotta be a door in that town that’s still standing,” Future!Saga answered. “I have to take her back to the future.”

Loa didn’t like hearing this, especially since she didn’t know how far into the future this would be, but she knew she couldn’t question the decision. “Let’s go.”

While Future!Saga ran up to find the safest route to the closest stable door, the other three able-bodied women began transporting Hokusai using a three-person arm-stretcher carry. They made it to the door, and let Future!Saga take her through alone.

Present!Saga should have been more careful, but she did accidentally see Serif waiting for them on the other side of the portal. That was a good sign. “What do we do now?” she asked. “We’re scheduled to start building New Springfield a few miles from Watershed. With transportation burned down, though, we’re gonna be late.”

Andromeda surveyed the rubble that was once a budding town, bitter look on her face. She took in, and released, a deep breath. “I quit.”

« < » > Entire Story

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 5, 2059

« < » > Table of Contents

The Cleanser had been right about “the next Reaver” coming. Mateo just didn’t think he meant so soon. Though, to be fair, it was technically a year later. And it could have been even longer from any other salmon’s perspective. He woke to find himself in the middle of the woods with Leona and Prince Darko. It was the dawn and their phones were nowhere to be found.

“What’s going on?” Leona demanded.

“Why are you looking at me?” Prince Darko asked, astonished. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Leona scoffed. It was becoming a bad habit.

“Leona, you can’t accuse him with no evidence.”

“He shows up and now we’ve been transported outside of our pattern.”

“That doesn’t mean that I’m the one who brought us here. I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to do such a thing.”

“Puh-lease.”

“Leona, stop. We have to work together to figure this out.”

“Oh, you would take his side.”

“There are no sides. There’s only survival. There’s bears in these woods,” Prince Darko said ominously.

“Bears can be dealt with,” Leona said. “They don’t attack humans as much as you would think.”

“I’m not talking about animal bears,” Prince Darko clarified. “I’m talking about bears that eat salmon. Everything is a danger.”

“Oh, ha!” Leona laughed sarcastically. “Good one.”

“I’m serious,” Prince Darko complained.

“We need to find some help,” Mateo jumped in, trying to defuse the situation with logic. “Or maybe not. Don’t they say if you’re lost in the forest, you’re supposed to stay put and wait for rescue?”

“That’s for when people know you’re there. We don’t even know where we are,” Leona nearly yelled.

“Hey, he’s just trying to get through this!” Prince Darko yelled back.

“Both of you shut up. I hear something.” Mateo didn’t really hear anything. He just wanted a few seconds of silence. But then they actually did hear something. It was a zipping sound that flew past their heads and landed in a tree. An arrow.

“Oh my God,” Prince Darko grumbled, “we teleported into a horror movie.”

Mateo was determined to fix the problem. It was probably just a hunter who didn’t realize that they weren’t deer. “It’s probably just a hunter who can’t see us very well.” Mateo stood up straight and started waving his arms.

“Mateo,” Leona whispered urgently, “please get down.”

“Hey! Don’t shoot!” Mateo pleaded. “We’re human!” He could see the hunter up ahead, and he was definitely close enough to hear Mateo’s cries, unless he was wearing headphones or something. Mateo realized his folly far too late. Another zip came and forced itself into Mateo’s heart. They were the ones being hunted. It wasn’t clear whether the hunter was actually intending to kill them specifically, or if they just happened to be the ones he found while on his hunt. Mateo was able to eke out one word as he was falling towards his back. “Run.”

Everything froze. Mateo stood from the side, staring at his own body, hanging in midair. Leona appeared to be on her way to catching him. Prince Darko was eyeing the hunter with violent rage in his eyes. But no one was moving; neither were the leaves or the wind or dark clouds in the early morning sky. Time was standing still.

“Mister Matic,” came a voice from behind Mateo’s temporary figure. It wasn’t the Cleanser.

“And you are?”

“They call me The Rogue.”

“What is it with you people and nicknames?”

The Rogue laughed. “I dunno. But they call me this because I don’t follow their rules. I’ve gone off on my own.”

“I’m pretty sure that position has been filled.”

“Yes,” the stranger nodded his head in understanding. “The Cleanser and I are very much alike. But his intention is to wipe us all out. Mine is to have fun.”

“From what I’ve been told, that’s exactly what it means to be a choosing one.”

“That’s true,” the Rogue admitted. “However, they are trying to shape the timeline according to their liking. I don’t care about the timeline. I just like to watch the struggle.”

“You’re trying to create a bad timeline,” Mateo posited. “Leona would actually probably call it the darkest timeline.”

“That’s right,” the Rogue said. “From your perspective, at least.”

Mateo massaged his temples. “I am so tired. I haven’t been doing this for very long, but I don’t wanna go any further. If I agree to let you do what you want, will you cancel mine and Leona’s pattern?”

“What about your brother?”

“What about him?” Mateo felt himself not caring. Prince Darko was obviously trying to strain his and Leona’s relationship. He should have been taking the moral high ground and tried to save them all, but he couldn’t help but just not care anymore. “You leave my family alone, and Leona’s, and I’ll let you go.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have to defeat you, just like I did Horace Reaver.”

The Rogue thought about this for a long time. Or rather, for literally no time at all. “Interesting proposition. You didn’t seem like the kind of person who would forgo the world, just for your family.”

“Before all this, I wasn’t.”

“That’s fair, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” Mateo knew he would do this. There was no way a guy with the power to stop time would agree to end his game so quickly. He was obviously a psychopath, and needed to be stopped. But Mateo couldn’t do that if he was acting like himself. These people knew everything about him. There was even evidence that they could read his mind. He had to remain as unpredictable as possible. He had to keep them guessing; rule number eleven.

“So, what are your plans for us?”

“To make your lives hell. One day at a time.”

Mateo apathetically turned his head to look at his real body, still hanging in the air, on the verge of death. “You don’t have much time.”

The Rogue laughed again. “Tis but a flesh wound.”

“I feel myself dying.”

“You want me to correct this? You want me to give you a pass?”

“Just this once.”

“Very well, but there will be more tribulations. Wanna see something cool?”

Yes, definitely. “Not really.”

“Pull the arrow out of your chest.”

“Doctors will tell you not to do that.”

“Just trust me. Make sure you take it out in reverse.”

Mateo had no choice, and he was curious to see what was going to happen. He took hold of the back of the arrow and begin to pull on it. The arrow didn’t move right away, but his own body did. Once he was back upright, the arrow began to slide out of his chest. He looked over and could see Leona crawling backwards and Prince Darko turning his head away from the distant hunter. Mateo pushed the arrow back in and watch the scene play out in slow motion. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. The faster he moved, the faster the scene moved. He was manipulating the passage of time with his hands. That was cool.

“All right, you’ve had your fun. Pull the arrow all the way out, and then you can adjust its path so that it avoids you altogether. All you have to do is think about changing time, rather than reversing it.”

Mateo had a better idea. “I have a better idea.” After the arrow was all the way out, and his wound had magically sealed back up as if it had never happened, he moved his own arm up. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the arrow and clasped it tightly.

“Leona and Prince Darko are gonna know something’s up if you catch a freaking arrow in midair.”

Mateo shrugged. “Somehow I don’t think that will bother me.”

The Rogue shook his head like he was watching his dog chew on a shoe. “I can’t reverse or slow velocity once we step back into real time, so you’re going to have to match it with an equal opposing force. Leona would understand this better,” he added with a sigh.

Mateo thought about it for a second then reversed the arrow a few more inches back to give himself more time to slow it down. “There.”

“There,” the Rogue agreed. He snapped his fingers and restarted time, placing Mateo back into his real body.

The arrow tried to keep moving, just as the Rogue had said, but Mateo was able to hold onto it before the tip could pierce his skin. He had succeeded in making it look like he had superhuman reflexes. He looked over at Leona and Prince Darko who were shocked by this.

“Buffy,” Leona whispered.

« < » > Table of Contents