The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 23, 2505

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Mateo’s nanites were just about done healing him. They prioritized the most life-threatening injuries first before moving on to the less serious damage. So a few cuts and bruises remained, and they hadn’t done anything for the pain yet. Even so, he could now stand up, and get a look around. Octavia still didn’t look concerned, so maybe this was some kind of refuge.

“We need to get moving,” she warned. “I let you recover, but it’s not safe here.”

“Is it safe anywhere?” he asked as he was following her along the stream.

“No,” she conceded. “The horde that was chasing after us can’t follow. Free from oversight, they’ve formed alliances, and divided the land into territories. We’re kind of on a border, so that offers us a little protection, but someone will eventually grow brave enough to cross the line—or hungry enough.”

What did you mean, no oversight?”

“This isn’t the real Castlebourne,” Octavia began to explain. “I don’t know exactly what it is, like an alternate reality, or something, but none of the staff is here. I don’t know who runs it—if it’s Pacey on his own, or if he’s working with someone else—but they don’t keep watch over the safeguards. These monsters are more vicious than they’re supposed to be.”

“How long have you been here?”

“The Vellani Ambassador rescued me and a bunch of others from Ex-486 in 2498. I wasn’t there long before I started hearing how worried the crew was about your whereabouts. I don’t know what they thought was wrong, but they were afraid that something had happened to you. So I agreed to investigate while they continued on with their missions.”

“Well, you found it. You found us.”

“Now, I have,” she agreed. “I found Pacey first, though, and he stuffed me in here so I wouldn’t interfere with his business. I’ve been running for my life ever since.”

“What happens if you die here?” he pressed.

“Nothing good,” she answered simply. “My body isn’t like yours, so I’ve been avoiding everyone. There are some buildings; particularly houses. They’re mostly haunted, but the ghosts have rules, and if you learn them, you can stay safe for a while.” She sighed. “But I think you can help end the madness forever.”

“How’s that?”

She looked around with a face full of paranoia and fatigue. “We’re pretty close to one side of this dome, and I can navigate us there. Unfortunately, once we get there, we’re going to have to walk halfway around the perimeter to reach the exit.”

“There should be more exits than that.”

“Like I said, it’s not the real Castlebourne. Pacey made modifications. There is a way out, but I can’t get through it with you.”

“It takes two to open the door, or something?”

“No, it takes an elite.”

“I’m an elite?”

“Yeah, of course you are. You were in Hrockas’ inner circle, and he hardwired contingencies into the software that should grant you access to any area at any time. The way he sees it, the planet is as much yours as it is his because of how much you contributed to its development. I don’t think that Pacey could have erased all those privileges without breaking the systems entirely. He would have had to reprogram everything from scratch. I’m sure he’s technically capable of doing that, but he’s kind of old school, so doesn’t like AI all that much. He likes to be hands-on, so he deliberately limits the tools in his toolbox.”

“So I can unlock the door, and we can both walk through?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Does he not know that?”

“I don’t know how much he knows about what I know.”

“It could be a trial,” Mateo put forth. “He may want us to escape. Some antagonists want us to stay out of their way, but others want us to stop them, like Thanos is with the Avengers.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“And you can’t teleport, right? Because I can’t. I tried while I was running once I remembered that I should be able to.”

Octavia shook her head. “I don’t have any powers at all. I lost that when I went back in time as September, and created a new timeline. I don’t like to talk about it, but it sets me apart from the other Paiges.”

“You don’t have to,” he assured her. “How dangerous is the border?”

She bobbled her head. “It has its advantages, and disadvantages. The monsters don’t know that they’re in a dome. If you showed one of them the wall, and they were the kind who could talk, they would probably just say, it doesn’t look like anything to me. They’re programmed to stop several meters before it, but they patrol that border, because they can still feel that there’s something weird about it. You’re safe beyond their reach, but there aren’t any resources there. No freshwater, no edible plants. You can take breaks, but you can’t stay.”

“Then let’s grab some supplies along the way. Now you can carry twice as much as before, and I don’t eat much.”

“Some of your powers and abilities are available to you, as you discovered when you jumped off the cliff and survived, but not all of them. If you aren’t hungry already, you will be soon. We need to get to that exit.”

“You seem to know a lot about it; about me.”

“You were part of my investigation,” she clarified. “I had to know who I was looking for. A lot has changed since I last saw you, many iterations of Paige ago.”

“Yeah.”

After nightfall, they finally managed to reach the border. She was right, there was a narrow open space that seemed to circle around the border. The problem was that this meant walking an additional 130 kilometers. Mateo didn’t know how his pattern worked in here. Even if he woke up right at midnight central, there would not be enough time for them to cross that distance before the end of the day. Paige would have to wait a whole year for him to come back, and then they still wouldn’t be able to make it in under 24 hours. Perhaps this plan wasn’t so perfect. There had to be a closer exit, perhaps hidden behind a false wall, or a hologram. As they were sliding their hands along what felt like glass or metal, they started hearing a commotion behind them. They turned around to find a new horde of monsters, about the same size as the one from before. But then more began to appear on the ends, and it eventually felt more like ten times that size. They were just standing there, staring at the two of them menacingly.

Paige’s watch beeped. “Oh, no.”

“What does that mean? Don’t tell me the worst monster comes out at a certain time.”

“No. It’s an hour until midnight central. You’re about to disappear for a year. This was stupid, we should have run straight through the center to the door. Now we’re screwed.”

“Don’t be so sure. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Mateo asked her. “In that clearing over there.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“If I recall correctly, it’s pretty maneuverable.”

“It’s pretty deadly.”

In the 1980s, a horror movie came out that would become a cult classic decades later. It was simply called Seatbelt Killer. Mateo couldn’t remember the exact backstory, but the villain’s origins involved his seatbelt getting stuck while his wife was being violated outside in front of him. He ended up turning the car on, and running over one of the rapists, but when the husband turned to get the other one, the second rapist threw his wife in front of the car, leading him to hitting her instead. The rapist then ran off, eventually getting trapped between the car and a cliff. With nothing left to live for, the husband drove right into him, and over the edge, where they both died. Then he and the car came back to life as a ghost, and started killing the protagonists over the course of the movie. The premise was that he literally couldn’t get out of his car anymore, but you couldn’t escape by going inside, because as a ghost car, it could fit through doorways, down hallways, and even up the stairs. You would think that he would kill rapists, but because he accidentally killed his own wife, the ghost could now only kill rape survivors. There was an implication that he didn’t want to do this, but was...driven to, so to speak. Due to the sensitive nature of the film, they never gave the car a name, but it was entirely fictional. The propmasters apparently manufactured the models from scratch so they wouldn’t have any sort of legal or reputational issues to contend with. But whatever it was, it was here, and Mateo wanted to steal it.

“Mateo...” Octavia began uncomfortably. “I can’t go near that thing.”

He knew what she meant right away, and if she was willing to talk to him about it, this wasn’t the time. “Have you seen the movie?”

“No, but I know the premise, which means I know that I qualify as a target.”

“The Final Girl survives by getting in through the passenger side window, and taking the steering wheel. She didn’t just take control of it, she literally removed it.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t easy.”

“It’ll be easier for us. She was alone. You have me.”

“But if we take off the steering wheel, we won’t be able to drive either.”

“His weapon is the car itself, his hands are only his means of controlling that. If we get inside, I can control where the car goes, and he can’t hurt you while you’re in the back. We’re not gonna remove the wheel, because unlike the girl in the movie, we need to use it.”

“It sounds risky.”

“It always is. It’s your decision, though. I understand that I don’t understand. But I can tell you that I will protect you, and I’m a damn good driver.”

“Okay. We better come up with a plan fast, because we’re running out of time. Even if you drive as fast as possible, it will take nearly the full hour to get there.”

Mateo nodded, then started to shake his head. “We’re not going around the perimeter. We’re going straight through.”

They hatched their plan, though it wasn’t all that complicated. Octavia came up with the idea to use herself as bait for the Seatbelt Killer, but Mateo wasn’t getting off easy. He was bait as well. While most of the monsters in this dome wanted to kill both or either of them, only a few of them were exclusively attracted to Octavia, based on her profile. They would use this to their advantage. Mateo would lure all of the others away, so Octavia was only contending with one of them. Once it was just her and the car, she would hop over the boundary, back to the safety of the perimeter. This would give her a respite that the characters in the original movie never had. From there, with the driver essentially frozen in place, she could simply climb onto the hood, and slip through the open window. Mateo never saw her accomplish this, but it evidently worked. She drove up next to him while the horde was chasing him through the woods. He dove in the back, and she sped up so fast that no one else was able to keep up.

“We need to get you up front so you can do the steering!” she shouted. She was navigating the terrain pretty well, but still struggling against the driver. He was bound to his seat, but not entirely helpless there. He was still trying to peel her arms away, just as he had the girl in the film. With a bit of ingenuity, this heroine had managed to pry the wheel off of its place, which stole his power from him, and allowed her to escape back through the window. A mid-credits scene suggested that he was about to be successful in finding a workaround by rigging a tire pressure gauge as an ad hoc steering wheel, which may have played out in a sequel, but it was never made. Mateo was a driver, so he watched movies about drivers, even bad ones, and sometimes he read about them too. There was a theory that made the rounds on the message boards that this sequel would have ended with the Final Girl also managing to get in the car, but solving the problem by finally freeing the killer from his eternal seatbelt. Could it be true? The creator never responded to these rumors, but an unverified snippet of the sequel’s script appeared to support the lore. Whether that was how it would have worked in the movies was not the question, though. The question was...was the android who was programmed to believe he was the Seatbelt Killer coded with this solution, or would it only make things worse?

“Do you have a knife?” Mateo asked her. Now that he was inside, he could hold the killer’s arms back, but the guy was really strong. They might not be able to keep him at bay for the duration of the drive.

“What?”

“A pocket knife. Scissors. Anything!”

“No, I don’t have anything like that!” Octavia yelled back. “I didn’t know I was gonna be trapped in the woods for seven years!”

“I need something sharp,” he muttered. Just then, a glow started to form in his right hand. He let go of the killer’s arm to look at it in wonder. The glow consolidated, and began to take shape. Before too long, it was in the form of a knife. And he could feel it in his palm. Somehow, despite Pacey’s restrictions, Mateo’s weird telekinetic hologram powers were back, at least in this one instance. Not taking any chances that it wouldn’t last, Mateo slipped the blade underneath the belt, and with one slice, ripped it right open.

The killer stopped struggling. For a moment, he just sat there in awe. Then he pulled the strap through the loop, opened the door, and tumbled out. Octavia sat there in shock, not even paying attention to where they were going, which was all right, because they were in an open area now, and slowing down quickly.

“Okay. I’ll take it from here.” Mateo climbed over the headrest, and situated himself in the driver’s seat. Then he took off again, free from resistance or distractions.

Now that they were clear of the monsters, their primary struggle was against the clock. In the movie, the car could phase through objects, or even squeeze itself through like a bus out of Harry Potter. That wasn’t possible in the real world, so Mateo just had to negotiate the trees and other obstacles. He kept going though, relying on his great skills, which had only been enhanced during his stint in the Underburg dome. The clock was ticking as they were approaching the part of the wall where Octavia said there was a door. He barreled through the treeline, and onto the perimeter again, almost all the way on the other side of the dome. New monsters were upon them now, but were still bound by that imaginary line.

“How do I open this?” Mateo asked. Before Octavia could answer, he placed a hand on the handle, and heard a buzzing sound. “Hm. Was that it?” He opened it.

Octavia breathed a sigh of relief as her watch was counting down. “Finally.” Four, three, two, one.

Mateo blinked, and it was 2506.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 12, 2464

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor

Using a communications array that the Maramon built, Leona was able to make contact with Hogarth Pudeyonavic. She was aware of the membrane thickener that the Angry Fifth Divisioner had deployed, and was working on a way to get rid of it. In the meantime, there was another way out of this universe. Like many other places, time travel was illegal here. And like all other places, there were exceptions. The way A.F.’s machine worked—which Leona now believed should be called a quintessence multiplier, or maybe a concentrator—what used to be known as dark matter would consolidate over the boundaries of the target universe. It would seal up any dark energy leaks, and tighten the borders. What was unclear as of yet was whether this happened like blood platelets clotting a wound from the inside, or more like a bandage wrapping it up from the outside.

The fact was, this process happened in realtime, starting from the moment that it was initiated. It did not extend backwards in time, which meant that the kasma was still accessible from any point in history. Hogarth agreed to send them back just long enough to let them cross over through the aperture, where they could go on their merry way. The only condition was that they not attempt to change the past in any way, even to stop A.F. from completing his mission. If Hogarth ended up solving the problem using such a technique, then that would be her decision, and it would happen on her timetable.

Hogarth could not, or would not, send them back in time in the little ship that Leona had engineered for them. The suspicion was that Hogarth wanted to use the skeleton key that it was equipped with for herself, which was surely okay, and a fair tradeoff for them. In another deal, they also agreed to take the hybrid, Aclima with them. She didn’t want to give them her reasons, but she promised that she harbored no ill will towards them, nor any nefarious plans for the multiverse. As payment for her ticket to the past, she gave Past!Mateo his own suit; helmet and all, so he too could survive wherever they ended up going.

Once they returned to May 30, 2451, the group was free to leave Fort Underhill. They were planning on crossing the kasma, and entering Salmonverse through its own aperture, but decided that they wanted to reunite with the rest of the team first. Now that they were already in the kasma, it was better to return to Stoutverse now, or they may never get another opportunity. They would still find a chance to help Past!Mateo complete his mission on Verdemus, even if that meant having Carlin relapse them to the Goldilocks Corridor in the 2420s and 30s. That was assuming the Maramon wasn’t lying about its significance anyway.

They were floating in the kasma now, listening to their past selves in the Transit deal with A.F.’s wrath. “We have to get on that train,” the present day version of Angela determined. She was speaking through the laserlink. They needed to be able to communicate with each other without interfering with the timeline, so outgoing signals from their comm discs had to be disabled. Laser communication was a great way to send a signal to a specific target—or in this case, targets—without worrying about anyone else intercepting it.

“All right, we teleport to the caboose,” Leona decided. “Stay on the outside for now, and find something to hold onto for a few seconds. I’ll teleport in while invisible, and scope out the car, then signal the rest of you.”

“We don’t have much time,” Marie pointed out, realizing that their past selves were nearing the end of their argument with A.F., and would be bugging out soon.

“We don’t need it.”

Past!Mateo took Aclima’s hand, and they all teleported to what they believe to be the outer hull of the rear car of the Transit. Instead, they found themselves inside of it. They had gotten pretty good at precision, so it didn’t make much sense that they would be off target. Sure, it was only meters too far, but it was weird just the same.

Future!Mateo pulled his helmet off, as did everyone else. “What the hell happened?”

“Let’s just be happy that no one is in here to catch us,” Marie said.

Leona started to look up and down the car. “No, this is weird. Hold on.” She looked through the window. “There’s the next car.” She jogged over to the other end. “There’s the equilibrium. I gathered information about this thing while we were on our way to Stoutverse. Every car is the same size; roughly thirteen by fifty-five by twenty-one meters. This is much shorter. I would have seen it on the floor plans if this were a thing. I think...” She trailed off.

“We’re invisible,” Aclima guessed.

“I think so. There are meant to be fifty-five cars, but this could be the fifty-sixth.”

“It’s like it was made for us,” Angela mused.

“Check out this caboose!” Past!Mateo joked.

They felt a lurch as the Transit flew into overdrive in a desperate play to escape the kasma. Olimpia would soon use the Sangster Canopy to cleave a canal between the two universes to avoid being captured by A.F. All the future versions of the team would have to do now was sit tight, and wait to catch up with their own time period, effectively closing their loops. If they lay low, and waited patiently in secret, they could reveal themselves in four days, and get back to work with the knowledge of the quintessence consolidation machine. They could also engineer a new skeleton key, which should allow them to somehow return to Salmonverse, and make their way to Verdemus. Navigation was going to be the biggest issue, but that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, they just had to be concerned with life support for Aclima for four years.

The secret fifty-sixth car was shorter than all the others, yes, but it was slightly taller. At twenty-four meters, instead of twenty-one, they were able to look through a window to see the rest of the Transit. Wow, it really was inspired by trains. This would be called the cupola. It also had a window in the back, which was showing them what was happening behind. While most of them were watching the ship race through the kasma canal, Past!Mateo was looking in the opposite direction. “Uh, guys? Something looks wrong here, so maybe you oughta look?”

“What is it?” Leona slid over to check out what he was seeing. Brilliant technicolor lights were illuminating the walls of Salmoverse and Fort Underhill. Olimpia’s magical powers were separating them only for long enough to let the Transit pass through. It wasn’t ever meant to be a permanent canal, and in fact, that was probably not physically possible. The walls were closing back in on themselves, and this appeared to be happening faster and faster. She lifted her watch to her face, and kept an eye on the timer. “It’s accelerating. We’re not gonna make it.”

“That’s impossible,” Angela said. “We already know that we’ll make it. We’ve done this before.”

Leona shook her head. “The Transit will make it, but not every car...not this one, and maybe not the next one over. I don’t know. There is a margin of error in my head math that I am not comfortable with.”

“We need to teleport to the next car,” Marie assumed.

“I’ve been trying,” Future!Mateo said. “We can’t do it, not now. I think it Olimpia’s power is blocking us.”

“Or the kasma, or the canal, or the bulk, or the quintessence. There’s no way to know what the problem is.”

“Fine, then let’s just walk over there,” Marie offered.

“Can’t do it!” Aclima declared from one level down. “The door’s locked!”

Leona looked back at the advancing walls of doom. “Brace for impact!”

 Suddenly, the door that Aclima was trying to get through opened from the other side. A man stepped through. “What’s going on in here?”

Before anyone could answer, a burst of technicolors flooded the room from the outside, and threw him across the car, and down a couple of levels. Everyone else fell down too, though not quite as hard. Leona got herself to her feet, and raced down to shut the door, but it didn’t seem necessary. They were exposed to the harsh environment of the equilibrium, but doing just fine. The atmosphere wasn’t trying to escape. Well, there had to be a reason it was called an equilibrium in the first place, right? Still, she closed the door, and reached down to check on Aclima, who had hit her head, but was conscious, and recovering quickly.

Everyone checked on each other, and seemed all right as well, having suffered only superficial wounds. They found a cot in a nearby compartment to lay the man down. Leona looked down at him with a sense of familiarity. “I know him.” She pulled her handheld device out, and started swiping through their list of known persons.

“That’s not important right now,” Marie told her. “We’re drifting.”

“So go check the systems,” Leona ordered. You’re tech-savvy enough. I shouldn’t have to do everything.”

“I know who that is,” Past!Mateo said as both Angela and Marie were walking down to the control terminal. “I remember him from your memories, back when I didn’t exist. That’s the guy in the secret seventh pocket dimension on the Elizabeth Warren. His brother was the one who killed Annora Ubiña.”

Leona nodded. “Right. But it wasn’t his brother. It was his cousin.” She found what she was looking for in the list. “Jarrett. That makes him Hadron.”

Hadron’s eyes were still closed while he swallowed, and adjusted his position on the cot slightly. “That’s me, Hadron Grier.”

“What are you doing here?” Leona asked.

Aclima slipped her hand under Hadron’s head, and pulled it back out. There was a little bit of blood on it. “No more questions.”

“That was one question,” Leona clarified.

“I’m fine,” Hadon said, sitting up, and allowing Aclima to move the pillow up to the wall for him to lean back on. “My medical nanites will heal the wound. To answer your question, I never thought I would see you again. My cousin was sent to prison for murder, but since he did it for me, it was decided that I wasn’t completely innocent. I was sentenced to house arrest for three years. That was fine, I was finally free of the tyranny of Durus. Still, when a magical door suddenly opened up on a wall that wasn’t supposed to have a door, I took the opportunity to cross over.”

“You worked in The Crossover,” Leona noted.

“For a while, until I found myself taking up a righteous cause in Universum Originalis. I should have known that I would end up in a place like this. What goes around, comes around, eh?”

Aclima pulled her suit’s drinking tube past her neck, and hovered over him to let him have some water.

“Thanks, love,” he said. “Are you gonna take me back to jail?”

Leona scoffed. “Ha, what? That was, like, 280 years ago.”

“Oh.” Only now did he get a look around. “I don’t understand what this is. I was in the caboose. I thought maybe you were a boarding party, but this appears to be of Transit architecture.”

“This is the real caboose,” Future!Mateo explained to him. “It was invisible for some reason.”

“I see.” Hadron took another sip from Aclima’s water tube, which from the right angle, looked a little like he was breastfeeding from her.

Angela came back. “Interestingly, this thing can operate on its own power. We think that we can follow the Transit to Stoutverse, but we’ll never catch up. It doesn’t go fast enough.”

“That’s okay,” Leona said. “Time ain’t nothin’ but a thang. Plot a course, and yalla.”

“We’ve already done that,” Angela replied.

“Great. Mateo?” Leona asked

“Which one of us?”

“Both,” she answered. “Go explore this place. Find out how many cots we have, and see if you can find a food synthesizer, or anything else we can use.”

They did end up finding a food synthesizer, as well as a number of cots, though they didn’t really need them all that badly. The most important discovery was an advanced industrial synthesizer, which was compatible enough with the datadrive that Leona already had with her regarding the skeleton key. She was able to build a new one in a matter of hours, which allowed them to cross over into Stoutverse without having to piggyback on the Transit proper as it entered. They didn’t even have to worry about laying low until they closed their loop in this world either. That navigation issue randomly spit them out of the bulk on June 12, 2464, which wasn’t that much later than when they left.

They were able to reconnect with Ramses and Olimpia, who updated them on everything they had been dealing with. The government wanted to use a Westfall visitor as a human bioweapon, and since they couldn’t accomplish that, they just took his blood to develop a serum, which they distributed to the whole population. Despite it seemingly being over, Westfall still wouldn’t let the man go home. They offered to try to take him back instead using their new bulk traveling machine. That seemed to be enough to break reality, though. When Dutch Haines attempted to follow them through one of the doors of the bunker, he disappeared, hopefully back home where he belonged anyway. But there was no way to know. Oh well. They were still going to leave, but they weren’t going alone. Kineret asked to tag along, but this was a complicated situation, because technically, due to her position as the Primus’ lieutenant, it was considered going AWOL. They needed to approach this with care and caution.

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2086: And Even Chaotic

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

I have been trying to figure out, not only where my co-worker went, but also where everyone else has gone. One person has mysteriously disappeared from Kansas City every day for the last month and a half. None of them showed signs of wanting to go somewhere before their disappearance, they leave no trace behind, and the authorities have not categorized any of them as suspicious. One thing they seem to have in common is that their respective friends and family aren’t extremely surprised by the development. The cops eventually stop investigating entirely, because none of them is a child, or someone else at high risk, like a dementia patient. They’re all self-sufficient adults who have been known to be a little bit flaky and unpredictable. They also come from different jurisdictions, so no one but me has any hope of seeing any of this as a pattern. In some of the stories I was writing before I disappeared from my own world, I came up with this organization called the Kansas City Metro Corps. It’s a police agency that operates in all of Kansas City, even across state lines, which to my knowledge, is not something that exists in the real world. There are federal agents, of course, but no one that can carry out investigations regularly between only two states. They might do it occasionally, but in that case, two different departments will have to liaise with each other, which can be complicated, disorganized, and even chaotic. They don’t have anything like the KC Metro Corps on this Earth, so no one is talking to each other, or seeing the connections.

I have been doing my own investigating, and I’ve come to a startling discovery that made me throw up in the middle of my shift. Don’t worry, I made it to the bathroom in time, because I was already in the break room, but I don’t know if I can live with myself anymore. It’s me. I’m the cause. I don’t know how I’m doing it, but it’s definitely me. Tracing the disappearances have been difficult, because no one witnessed anything strange happening, so their true locations aren’t so cut and dried, which is why I didn’t see it before. But if I add myself to the map along with all the others, and adjust for people’s hypothetical movement after the last person to see them loses sight of them, then I am at the epicenter. Every disappearance happens from that point, and has continued outwards in a spiral formation. The pattern would be beautiful if it weren’t so sickening. They all happen early in the morning, which makes sense, because that’s when I first arrived on this world. So I’ve already missed today. I’ve not heard anything yet, but I’m sure whatever mysterious force is causing this has struck again, and I have an idea of where. I can’t save that person, or anyone else we lost before, at least I might not be able to, I don’t know. But I know that there’s a chance for me to save whoever is meant to go missing tomorrow. I’m taking the day off, which is something that I didn’t want to do this early on at my job, but I don’t think I have any other choice. I’ve asked the high school girl to fill in for me, since it’s Teacher Planning Day. I’m going to the store today to gear up. I don’t know what I’ll be going up against.

Microstory 2065: Not Gonna Hurt You

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software

Today I had a tour of the garden where I’ll be working starting next month. Or I should say, I hope I’ll be working there. She thought it was going to be okay that I don’t have any proof of citizenship, or a bank account, or a national ID number. Where I’m from, there’s no such thing as an NID. We have social security numbers that serve the same purpose, but that’s not really what the system was made for. I’m getting sidetracked again. The garden. It’s not the end of the world that I can’t prove I was born here, or that I was born at all, but there’s a process. She won’t be able to officially hire me until I get all that squared away. If you’ll remember, I was going to meet with a social worker earlier this month, but I never ended up doing that, because I secured this great place to live, and everything seemed to be okay without my new life. I’m getting over my second illness, but I’m still not there yet, so come Monday, I’ll finally be doing that. We’ll keep our distances from each other, and I’ll at least be wearing a mask. I spoke with him briefly on the phone, and he thinks that it will be okay. There is a proper way to enter this country, whether you want to come as a visitor, or stay as a citizen, but it’s not that difficult. It’s extremely difficult and painful in my version of the United States, but they see no reason to do it like that here. Where I’m from, people are terribly afraid that criminals will come in from foreign nations, but here’s the thing, there are criminals everywhere. You can commit a crime in the country you’re born in just as easily as a different one. No, that’s not true. It’s actually easier, because you don’t have to go somewhere first. How can we stop foreign criminals if we don’t just criminalize immigration itself? Uh, well what do we do about native criminals? It’s called law enforcement. Ever heard of it? It may begin with the border in some cases, but it’s not like it ends there. So stop freaking out, I’m not gonna hurt you. Can I be a citizen now? Everyone I’ve talked to about it says, yes, probably. Have a nice weekend!

Microstory 2038: Maryland and D.C.

< > Table of Contents

It takes a long time to adopt a child, especially one that is in the situation that I was in. My parents put in their application right away, but it was almost three years before it finally went through! I lived in an orphanage while I was waiting, and the people in charge had to first find out if there was any way to get me back to where I was born. In the year 2016, and evil man started to run for president. He doesn’t like people who look like me, or who are from countries like my home country. He thinks that everyone who wasn’t born in this country is automatically bad. Even if they were born here, if their parents weren’t, he just doesn’t like them anyway. He believes in a lot of other bad things, and a bunch of people wanted to vote for him, because they felt the same way. My fathers are good people, who feel nothing but love for everyone. So while they were waiting for me to come into their lives, they drove down to Washington D.C. to protest against the presidential candidate. Washington D.C. isn’t a state, it’s a district, but it’s pretty much in Maryland, and my fathers’ hotel was really close to the border, so they spent a little time over on that side of it, and I think that it counts. They marched on the streets to let people know that they didn’t want this man to win the election, and guess what, he didn’t! He was never a president, and I say my fathers had something to do with it. They obviously weren’t the only ones who protested, but as my grandma will say, every voice counts. I think that’s probably true. If you feel a certain way, and you want people to know it, then you should say it. That’s what it means to be in a free country. Even the bad man had a right to say what he didn’t, even though it was all bad stuff.

Microstory 2034: Virginia

< > Table of Contents

In April 1861, most of the western part of Virginia separated itself from Virginia to become a free state at the very beginning of the Civil War. Virginia was a slave state, and the people who lived on that side didn’t like that. They became the state of West Virginia. In 1864, people in Roanoke, Virginia decided that they wanted to belong to West Virginia too, even though there were parts of Virginia between it and the border. What historians now call the War Within the War was fought there. We learned a little bit about this last month, but I’ll summarize it for you. Roanoke won a temporary independence, which allowed them to act as a sanctuary to escaped slaves who were fleeing from the southern states. Cities are usually kind of roundish, because they start in one place, and spread out from there, but it was different here. Roanoke used to have something called the Roanoke Tail, with land that went all the way to the West Virginia border twenty miles away. They stayed that way until the war ended, and all states became free. Roanoke was never actually part of West Virginia. They ended up sticking with Virginia, but the history can never be changed. You can learn even about this if you go to the Free Roanoke Civil War History Museum, which my papa went to once he and his family were able to get back on a train to there from their unwanted stop in Kentucky. My dad, Santana didn’t have anything else to do, so he decided to see the museum with them so they could get to know each other better. When they were done with it, my Aunt, Uncle, and cousins all took the train back to Indiana, but papa stayed behind. He still had some vacation time, so he spent some time in my dad’s hometown of Norfolk, Virginia. This is where the two of them fell in love, which I’m grateful for.

Microstory 2020: Indiana

< > Table of Contents

My Aunt Cooper has three children, who are all boys, and they’re my cousins. Her first was born in the year 2000. She was 29 years old, and she lived with her new husband in a city called Gary, Indiana. Even though it’s located in Indiana, it’s really close to the border with Illinois, so it’s considered part of Chicago, which is a really big city next to Lake Michigan. While my papa was in the Navy, he was busy with his work most of the time, but he didn’t have to spend all the time working. Officers get to take time off just like regular people, except unlike them who get vacations, people in the military take something called leave. Specifically, since he was in the Navy, he was on shore leave. He decided to fly up to Gary to spend some time with his sister, and their new baby. My cousin is 12 years older than me, but we’re really close. After my papa was done with his required service, he retired and moved to Chicago to be closer to his sister. And years later, when he decided to move to Massachusetts, they all did the same thing he did, and moved with him. They lived in separate houses, though. But I’m getting ahead of myself, because none of that has happened in the story yet. My cousin’s name is Nash Ruskin. His father’s name is Currian Ruskin, and I love him too. My other cousins’ names are Osmond and Thatcher, but they haven’t been born yet. My papa was only allowed to spend five days there, since two of them were spent traveling to and from Indiana, but he enjoyed it, and he got to go back a few times before moving closer anyway.

Microstory 1979: From the Shadows

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software

Leonard: No, she’s still not here. Ophelia? Ophelia? Can you hear me?

Micro: *walking up from the shadows* I’m blocking all signals.

Leonard: Report.

Micro: *smiling* Report. You’re learning, young padawan. First off, are you okay? You, Ophelia, and the prisoner? How did you get back here?

Leonard: We used one of Anaïs’ contacts to get across the borders, and then a bus.

Micro: *nodding* I’m glad you’re okay. I wanted to help, but we couldn’t tip Sachs off. Not that it mattered. Parsons escalated things at the safehouse, and we were forced to reveal the truth in front of Sasho. We still don’t know if we can trust him. That’s why I asked you to come here. This was our only way to keep Vogel safe and alive until we can figure out how many moles there are left in the government. He is alive, isn’t he?

Leonard: He’s fine. He’s in a safehouse that I set up for myself while I was free, but before DExA began. *looking around* I assume this is yours?

Micro: All I could do was hope that your parolee told you where the Salmon Civic Center would be if we were in Salmonverse.

Leonard: We had lunch in this area once in my home universe. He pointed it out. Seemed innocuous and meaningless at the time.

Micro: I’m glad that he did.

Leonard: I’m taking Vogel to Parsons. Enough of this cloak and dagger crap. We are not equipped to hold onto the suspect on our own, and every day we spend in the cold gets us closer to being burned.

Reese: I’m pleased to hear you say that. *walks up from the shadows*

Leonard: This was all just a test?

Micro: Have you heard of Lima Syndrome where you’re from?

Leonard: No.

Reese: We don’t have it either. Apparently it’s when you start to sympathize with someone you have in captivity. I had to be sure you weren’t compromised. Or Ophelia.

Leonard: Oh, the Grapley Effect. Yeah, we have that.

Reese: *hands Leonard a folder* This is what we have on Sachs. I had a friend from my military days look into it independently to verify it. He’s been playing us the whole time.

Leonard: I assume he took a shot at Vogel to shut him up?

Micro: That’s our assumption as well. We need to find out what—and who—he knows.

Leonard: *looking over the documents* This begs the question...

Reese: Director Washington? She’s the one who assigned Sachs to our department. Yeah, I’m worried about her loyalties too. That’s not our job, though. The Internal Compliance Commission will investigate on their own.

Leonard: In the meantime, what happens to us?

Reese: We’ve been shut down. But there’s hope for us yet.

Leonard: In what way?

Myka: *coming out of the shadows with a bunch of others* We’re working out of here now. Congratulations, Miazga, you’ve just joined a rogue operation.

Leonard: Not my first.

Microstory 1978: Alleged Smuggler

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software

Leonard: Are you Moenia?

Moenia: Yo, who’s askin’?

Leonard: We’re friends of Becca’s.

Moenia: Yeah, she mentioned she had a new crew. She told you about our dead drop?

Leonard: She told us you could help us. She said you were her most trusted smuggler.

Moenia: Alleged smuggler.

Leonard: Right. Well, we need to get across the border.

Moenia: How far across, copper?

Leonard: Not a cop. And it depends on how safe it is on the other side of the first one.

Moenia: Not very, I always say. You wanna be safe, you get yourself all the way into Kentucky. Or Missouri, if you’re in a bigger hurry.

Ophelia: We are...in a hurry, that is.

Moenia: *nods* She tell you my usual fee?

Ophelia: Becca said nothing, but money is no object. It may just be...a bit delayed.

Moenia: I don’t deal in money, I deal in favors. I’ll take you with me. I’ll carry you all the way to Dexter or Poplar Bluff. Once there, we’ll part ways, but one day, I’ll call upon you, and you can’t refuse me. I don’t care if I’m askin’ you to kill the National Commander of the United States, you answer that call, no questions asked.

Leonard: We’re not going to—

Moenia: It won’t be that. It won’t be anything that ridiculous. I use that as an example, because you’ll be takin’ a huge risk, accepting my help. It may be somethin’ you don’t wanna do, or it may be as simple as tying my shoes for me. Now that is a favor that I actually did call in. It’s worse than it sounds. That was four years ago, and word is, the dude is still scared out of his mind that it meant more than how it looked on the surface. He ain’t slept right since. That’s the gamble. I know within five minutes of meeting someone what kind of favor to ask them. You need to be prepared for that.

Ophelia: We’ll take it. Get us to Missouri.

Moenia: That guy’s been quiet. What’s his deal?

Ophelia: Oh, him? He’s not allowed to talk.

Vogel: Not true.

Ophelia: *slaps him in the head* Shut up. *to Moenia* Three tickets, please.

Moenia: Three tickets, three favors.

Leonard: *looks down at Vogel* Well...

Moenia: Favors are transferable. He looks to be your prisoner, which means he could be dead by the time I need to collect, so I’ll let you do whatever it is in his stead. Deal?

Vogel: I have a better deal. I’ll give you four favors, you kill these two yahoos, and take me over the border instead.

Leonard: She told you to shut up.

Moenia: Now hold on a minute, let me think about it.

Ophelia: Moenia, don’t do this. Becca will not be pleased.

Moenia: I’m just playin’ witchya. Just make sure to keep him quiet. We’re headed into dangerous territory. The Mississippi border is even worse than the rest of it.

Microstory 1965: Aggression

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software

Leonard: Hey. This is a nice jet. How did you swing this? To be honest, I don’t know where our department gets any of its money, full stop.

Reese: The government didn’t have a black budget in your version of the U.S.?

Leonard: Yeah, I guess it did; I just didn’t give it any thought, because I didn’t work for any entity that would use it. So the public doesn’t know how much we spend?

Reese: They don’t know how much we spend, but they know the current pot for the entirety of the black budget, which is eight hundred billion dollars this year.

Leonard: Jesus, that’s a lot.

Reese: Yeah, so that pretty much makes the cost of this jet a rounding error. You don’t ever need to worry about our funding. National Command takes the largest portion, and we’re a part of that. The Office of Special Investigations enjoys both a transparent, and a black budget, because the Director reports directly to the National Commander.

Leonard: I see. Well, anyway, that’s not why I came over here. I wanted to learn about Mississippi before we landed. Everybody groaned when you told them that that’s where the mission would be. Where I’m from, the state suffers from a lot of racism, but it’s certainly not universally despised, like it seems to be here.

Reese: Did your version of the country have legal slavery until the eighteenth century?

Leonard: It actually lasted through the nineteenth century. About halfway through.

Reese: Oh. Well, it didn’t take us quite that long to end it, and preserve the union, though we did not come out of it unscathed. I am no historian, but what I do know is that it came at a cost, and that cost was the state of Mississippi. Even after the U.S. Internal Conflict of the 1790s was declared over, the southern National Commander would not let go. He chose Memphis as his capital, because it was at the border of the three most steadfast secessionists during the war, and the years leading up to it. Because of this, Tennessee, Arkansas, and Mississippi refused to accept that the south had lost. They continued to enslave people, and fight against anyone who attempted to put a stop to them. They lost eventually, but the post-war is considered by some to be bloodier than the main conflict. Arkansas and Tennessee finally admitted defeat, and started getting with the program. The southern NatCo and Mississippi did not. They held all of Memphis hostage, and—long story short—the union ultimately gave up and gave in. The city, and some surrounding lands, were absorbed into the half-state, half-independent nation. Again, long story short, it currently exists more as a territory than a state, and did later abolish slavery. You noticed that we crossed over into Colorado and Wyoming on our first mission without issue. Mississippi’s borders have only recently opened up. Until a few years ago, it was no one in, no one out. Now we can move back and forth, but we have to register. This team is technically on a diplomatic mission, which means that only the jet and the pilot registered—they don’t know that you and I specifically are on it—but we’ll have to be careful while there. If anyone we run into finds out that we’re not Mississippians, they may have some feels about it. It’s not illegal, but...

Leonard: Wow. This is a strange world. We had slavery for longer, but we kept the union intact. Though racism has lasted for the better part of two centuries after that.

Reese: I wouldn’t say we have all that much racism. It’s all a matter of perspective.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 15, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

Imani didn’t say much more about her religious faith, and how much she thinks it does, or doesn’t, have to do with time travelers. By the sound of it, some of the Word of Dalton is drawn from real life, and some of it is ripped straight out of pop culture from the main sequence. For instance, he tells a story that Leona recalls from an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, as if it were real. Similarly, this reality never had a version of Adolf Hitler, so Dalton apparently felt totally comfortable using hitler as an adjective to describe someone evil, or literal daemons from the bad place. Yes, he stole IP from The Good Place too. They probably should have read over the prooftext months ago, since it could have clues. Leona would do that now, but she’s busy.

Imani wanted a tour of the Superscraper, but didn’t have enough time for it, and still doesn’t today, which is good, because Leona scheduled an unrelated meeting. If she wants to turn the building into a refugee sanctuary, then she needs to get help from people who already work with refugees, and actually know what the hell they’re doing. They seemed amenable to the possibility of collaborating on the phone, but it was audio only, and they could have just been being polite. Been being? She needs to make sure she doesn’t talk like that during the meeting. She’s entering their offices now. Game face, Leona. Wait, stop! She didn’t mean that literally, but her ability interpreted it that way. That’s not her game face. That is Chief’s tight end and four-time Super Bowl champion, Travis Kelce. Leona face, Leona. There we go. Okay, now open the door, and if anyone saw,  pretend that it was just an optical illusion.

“Hello. Welcome to Homes for Humankind. Do you have an appointment, or would you like to volunteer?”

“I have a meeting scheduled with Yulian Văduva.” She checks her watch. “I’m about ten minutes early.

The receptionist blinks. “Hold on, I know who you are.”

“Yes.” Leona ran into a celebrity once, and she’s not talking about Juan Ponce de Leon, or the time she was on a fake cooking show with James Van Der Beek. In the reality where she didn’t meet Mateo until later in life, she found herself in front of comedian and actor, Heidi Gardner in line at Richard and Allen’s restaurant in the Plaza. There was no one else there at the time, and that was before that version of her found out that it was a hangout spot for time travelers. Heidi shook her hand politely and said hello, but Leona didn’t ask for a selfie, or anything like that, and Heidi didn’t offer. She seemed to want to be left alone, and Leona respected that. She was very nice to Richard when he took her order, and ate quickly, surely because she had to return to her busy life. Leona didn’t think that she would ever have to deal with anything like that. She’s famous in certain circles, like the planet of Dardius, but she’s never felt every eye in the world on her; not when the people whose eyes they belong to don’t know about time travel. This is so surreal. She’s being bashful about it.

“And you’re meeting with the big kahuna. Lucky you. A word of advice, don’t say anything about the Daltomist who visited your country yesterday. He’s not a fan of organized religion.”

“Don’t worry,” Leona said. “Neither am I.”

He nods. “I’ll let him know that you’ve arrived. You can have a seat over there.”

Leona barely has time to sit down before Mr. Yulian comes down from on high. “Mrs. Matic? It’s nice to meet you. Right this way, we’re in the big conference room today.”

“Okay,” Leona said. She follows him to the room, which she expects to be entirely empty. She thought it had something to do with the other rooms being booked, but nope, it’s completely full of people. They all look up at her when she stops in the doorway, some having to spin their chairs around to see. “Hi. Forgive me, I wasn’t prepared for this. It seems that our wires were crossed. I was under the impression that it would just be us, and maybe one associate of yours.”

“Wires were crossed,” he echoes. “Heh, I like that. I’m gonna steal it from you. Why don’t you have a seat? Yeah, right there at the head. Go on. Are you thirsty? We have water or tea.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” She sits down awkwardly in the incredibly comfortable chair. A conference room chair has no business being this soft. This is a place of business.

Yulian walks to the other side of the room, and flips on the TV. “Before we get to the pitch, I would like to show you something.” He presses a button that reveals the feed from the front door security camera.

Leona’s heart sinks. She really needs to get a handle on her new illusion power.

“Before every meeting with a potential partner or donor, we like to have a little internal pre-meeting. We leave the feed up to play in the background so we know when someone shows up. We never expected to see this.” He prepares to press another button.

“You don’t have to show it. I know what you saw.”

“Okay,” Yulian says with a smile. “Then I’ll show you this archive footage instead.” He changes the screen to a different camera. It’s high up on the roof, and showing the New York City skyline. “Wait for it...wait for it...” The Superscraper appears out of nowhere. “I assume what you did at the front door has something to do with what made this thing suddenly spring into existence?”

“It’s...maybe.”

“So there are others who can do the same thing?”

“...maybe,” she repeats.

He widens his smile. “We’re prepared to defect to your nation, and maybe even expand its borders. Did you know that you could do that? The original owner once owned a modest apartment complex in that spot where he provided a different kind of sanctuary; one that was designed to protect the worst criminals the U.S. has ever seen. He bought more land so he could spread his bullshit message to the masses, and now that it’s yours, you could do it again. But you could do it for the right reasons.”

“I can’t build another building like that,” Leona says. “I didn’t build this one.” She paused, and bobbed her head indecisively. “Or I did.”

“What does that mean? Do you have memory issues?”

“Actually, I think I’ll take that water now.”

The woman next to her slides her own glass over. “It’s clean. I didn’t take a sip of it yet.”

Leona took the glass, and downed it.

“Are you okay now?”

She clears her throat. “I don’t have memory problems. I’m a time traveler, and it’s not outside the realm of possibility that Future!Me constructed that building.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 14, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

Imani Pettis is a Compliance Enforcer in the Church of Daltomism. Unlike most Daltomists at her level, she began in a starter house where she could have easily been lost in the crowd. People who have risen up the ranks to be where she is today have done so after being born into more elite status. There’s a downside to this, because while it’s impossible to begin in the uppermost levels, those who start at the upper levels just under those are not always considered worthy by the general Daltomistic population. Imani garners a lot of respect, because she started at nothing, and earned her place. She belongs to what is called a Singularity Church, which basically means that she operates autonomously, and at the behest of the Primary Church. The paradox is complicated, but even though there are thousands of members of the Primary Church, they each technically belong to their own church. That is what gives them the highest elite status.

Imani attends services all over her region, which encompasses the majority of Northeast United States. She is there to ensure that the local chapters are following the Word of Dalton faithfully, and that no one in the congregation strays from the path too significantly. The point of starter houses is to determine who is worthy to move up to smaller meeting houses, which means that technically, people here don’t have to do anything The Word says. But she will still instruct the local leadership on how to guide the wandering flock towards the Mountain of Truth. It’s unclear why she has requested a meeting with Leona Matic, but Heath wanted to impress her because of what she can do for their mission, so he set it up right away.

“Madam Pettis,” Leona says with her hand outstretched. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She shakes her hand. “You may call me Imani.”

“Thank you, Imani. How can I help you today?”

Imani looks around, and walks forward a little. “What is the purpose of this building?”

“We hope to turn it into a refugee sanctuary. It’s not quite ready. We need to inspect all of the rooms, and there are many.”

Imani nods. “How did you come to create it? Or did someone create it for you?”

Leona looks to Heath for guidance, but he isn’t giving anything away. Okay, so a building appeared out of nowhere in the middle of downtown, which threw out the whole secrecy thing. For now, Leona has been able to remain quiet about how she’s not stunned that this happened, but it may be time to change that. If she were freaking out, she would probably be telling people, and asking the public how the hell it happened. She doesn’t know how it happened, but she knows that they can’t help her. “Someone appears to have created it for us. I had a general idea of what I wanted to do, and this building fits those parameters. I’ve taken it as a gift from an anonymous donor.”

Imani laughs. “An anonymous donor builds an invisible building for you, and then just suddenly makes it visible? I would like to meet the person with such power.”

She probably doesn’t need to know about the Omega Gyroscope. Whoever built it may not have known that it would be activated, and was intending to keep the Superscraper hidden for longer. Unless that person was Dalton himself, which is a plausible theory. “There are things in this world that most would not understand.”

“Yet you understand it?” Imani prods.

“Some things I know, some things I don’t,” Leona quotes a TV show.

“Quite,” Imani replies. She looks around some more, and steps a bit deeper in. “A Dark Citadel will fall from the heavens, and make its mark in the Center of World Power. The Watchers who come out of it will change the world forever, and the people shall know the Life of God.”

“Ma’am?” Heath asks vaguely.

“Word of Dalton, Book Two, Chapter Thirty-One.” She grins at him. “Yes, dear, there is a second Word of Dalton book. You have not learned enough to know it.” Pretty impressive, keeping the existence of a whole prooftext out of public knowledge, especially in this advanced informational age. She goes on, “tell me, do either of you recall the date that this building appeared?”

“March 1,” Heath replied.

“March 1, 2399.” She holds up a tablet, and navigates to the chapter in question. “Chapter 31...month three, day one. Page two,” she says as she swipes to the second page. “Paragraph three, words 99 through 137. March 1, 2399,” she repeats. Numerology: the fool’s excuse for being late.

“Interesting,” Leona says, trying not to scoff at the absurdity, knowing in the back of her mind that it’s possible that the book is telling the truth, and this has all been orchestrated to turn out exactly as Dalton wished.

“Tell me,” she repeats herself, “would you consider New York City to be the Center of World Power?”

“One could argue that,” Heath says.

“One could also argue that it’s Kansas. Perhaps the whole country is the world power, and Kansas is literally in the middle of it.”

Imani points at her. “Exactly, my child. Because that’s how Dalton’s words often go. He frequently means something literally that most would take metaphorically, or culturally. And while Daltomism began in Africa, many competing religions were started somewhere in the land which would become North America. Some believe that Kansas holds a plethora of sacred secrets. Besides, look around...would you consider this place to be a dark citadel? Why, it’s so white, I was nearly blinded by the façade when I pulled up.” She’s right. Normal arcological megastructures are painted a gray base, which can alter its tint automagically to reflect or absorb sunlight, depending on the regional climate, and current weather where it’s built. The Superscraper is shockingly white, making it stand out even more amongst all the puny little skyscrapers below, and it doesn’t appear to change colors at all. Plus, it shouldn’t really be described as a citadel.

“So this is not the structure as foretold in your...little book,” Leona says, knowing that it’s a pretty disrespectful way to word it, especially considering it may all be real.

“That was why I wanted to come here, and why I appreciate your accommodation, despite the line of others ahead of me.” It’s true, the number of people who have asked to cross the border has grown exponentially, and that is showing no signs of slowing down. Most of them likely don’t have any particular reason they want to come. They’re curious more than anything, but as soon as they find out that she was invited without any sort of waiting list, or whatever, others might start to feel a little ticked off. Hopefully Imani does not intend to ask for more than just a few answers.

“So we’re agreed that this is not the Dark Citadel?” Leona presses.

“It’s not, but that does not mean that it is not something else. Mr. Walton, tell me what you know of the False Watchers of the Other Worlds.”