Microstory 2697: This is Where We Are

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It’s true that the rabbits aren’t real, and don’t feel pain. Their bones aren’t made out of whatever real bones are made out of, and they don’t have hearts. They don’t need them since blood doesn’t need to be pumped throughout their bodies. Ronan thinks that breaks the immersion a little bit since consuming organs is very much a part of this culture, but he lets it go because understands it. Talus does not have that luxury. If he only remembers one thing, it should be that he’s in a simulation. But it looks like that hasn’t happened. This is an entirely new person. He has his own personality and quirks, and more relevant today, character flaws. The original Talus would never open up the animals to see what they looked like inside. He just wouldn’t, memories or no.

Ronan remembers hearing about this in the historical texts. Before hyperadvanced neuropsychological techniques were developed, some people were born wrong, and there was nothing you could really do about it. Torturing animals was a pretty significant sign that something was wrong with your child. But that was only truly seen as a problem around the 20th century or so. Before that, violence was simply more prevalent, so the early adoption of it was seen as a moderate deviation from the norm, rather than a massive red flag. Ronan doesn’t know if young Talus is showing signs of aberrant behavior. This may be the result of the environment he’s living in. This is precisely why Ronan chose to start his life as a farmer, rather than a Viking. He wants the full experience of this dome network, but only eventually. Before that, he wants to raise his kids, and he wants to teach them that  violence is not the answer. Because when he takes them out of here one day, they’re going to find that it’s not tolerated anymore.

Ronan has already talked to him about the bunnies, but now he’s faced with a new dilemma. Because while the violence lesson is sinking in—assuming it is, of course—Ronan and Gia need to present Talus and Isavet with some conflicting information. He needs to explain what this world is, which might lead Talus to thinking that his actions don’t matter as long as he’s in here. To be sure, a lot of people probably go into these simulations under that belief. He can’t stop them, and won’t try. But his son is not going to kill others for the fun of it. This is basically one big reenactment, and the point of those is to learn and empathize; not to become a savage. “Talus. Isavet. It’s time you understand the truth about where we are. Isa, you once asked me what lies beyond the horizon. I told you that the world curves away from us, and that it’s a sphere. If we were to sail all the way in one direction, we could actually end up right back here. That’s still true, but what I didn’t tell you is that the horizon you’re seeing is only an illusion. There is a wall over there. It’s actually not even that far from our location. If you were to sail in that direction, you would hit that wall. There’s a passageway somewhere, and if we decide to go explore, we would have to find it first. It is a relatively narrow tunnel from our dome to the next. Perhaps I’m not explaining this right. Gia?”

Gia methodically removes her shawl, and lays it out on the table. She pulls her shears out, and carefully lays them on the shawl. Looking at it from the side, she begins to cut the fibers very carefully. Once she has sliced a slit in the shawl, she reaches in and pulls out a piece of flexible display.

“Gia,” Ronan scolds. There is to be no technology under any of these domes.

She turns it on. A two-dimensional map of Castlebourne appears. She points. “Okay, kids...this is where we are,” she begins.

Microstory 2693: Settle

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They have settled down, and settled into a routine. Ronan built a small home for them to live in, with some help from the boy, Vith. Vith is not who they thought he was. He was an adult in the technical sense, but he grew up on a planet not unlike the simulation they’re in now. For him, it was real. They planted and caught their own food, and built their own structures. And if they failed at any of these things, they could die for good. He seems to be of two minds. On the one hand, after he was essentially rescued by Castlebourne, he realized that he never got a real childhood. On the other, he isn’t comfortable in the modern world, and actively sought a place that resembled his original home. Ronan and Mayumi aren’t confident that he is entirely mentally okay, but instead of trying to exit the dome, and ask for help, they decided to raise him on their own. Little Talus will have a big brother to look up to, which they didn’t originally plan.

It’s been nine months now. The harvest is going well, but Vith is having to work their garden on his own today. Mayumi is in labor. They talked about this at length before coming to the Nordome Network. Were they going to try to find someone to help her deliver the child, or do it themselves? In the end, they decided on the latter. It wasn’t the only way to do it, they were in it for the long haul. When they form a community, it will come naturally, not just because they notice a bunch of other people in their vicinity. For now, it’s just the three of them, and in this room, two.

In over 300 years, Mayumi has never given birth before. They never even had children, but out there, they would not have done it naturally. This is part of the experience that they were seeking. They want to know what it was like before genetic engineering and gestation tanks. They didn’t have to go quite this far back in the past, but they have other reasons for admiring this culture, in this time period. She is in a lot of pain. There are no drugs. There’s a wooden spoon that Vith fashioned for them several months ago. It’s very soft. Her teeth marks are going to be in it forever. Hopefully, he will be okay with that. She is screaming her head off, but she is strong, and she’ll get through this. They will be a complete family again, once Talus returns.

Ronan can see the head. He encourages her to keep pushing while he guides the little guy out of her. He’s not crying, and that’s not good. Ronan wipes the goop from his tiny face, and bounces him up and down a little, tapping on his chest ever so gently. It takes a couple of minutes, but he finally does after Ronan sticks his pinky in his mouth, and clears it out. It’s the loudest scream he’s ever heard—louder than even Mayumi was—but it’s such a beautiful sound. Apparently curious, Vith walks in. Ronan smiles at him, and shows off his little brother. Vith doesn’t seem to know what to think, but he doesn’t seem upset. He is just confused. He knew that Mayumi was pregnant, and that she was going to give birth. He knows where babies come from too. The truth is that he’s a little bit of an oddball. That’s okay, Ronan knows that he’s going to be a good brother.

“Good. We need to let mommy see him, okay?” Ronan goes over and tries to hand Talus over to his wife. “Mayumi. Mayumi?”

She’s not moving. Ronan too hastily hands baby Talus off to Vith, and tries to wake Mayumi up, but she doesn’t. She never does again. The three of them live in that small house for another few weeks, waiting for Mayumi to appear, having reentered the simulation. It’s not against the rules as it was an accidental death. But she never comes back, and the winter is about to get real bad.

Microstory 2679: Plague Doctor

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Resi is ill. He was hot and sweaty during his speech, and he doesn’t even remember the end of it. He’s just waking up now in his childhood home. The last time he was here was three years ago, but it feels like he’s never really been here at all. It feels like that was a movie, and now he’s fallen into the screen. He’s delirious. Kala walks into the room holding a wet towel. She dabs his forehead with it, and then drapes it across his face. He’s breathing heavily and erratically. “How did I get here?”

“Father brought you,” Kala explains. “He wants to speak with you, but he doesn’t know if you’ll want to see him.”

“Bring him in.”

“It can wait,” Kala offers.

“I’m okay. Bring him in. Thanks, Kal.”

Father comes in after she leaves. He sits on the edge of Resi’s bed, and is silent for a moment. He sighs. “I think it’s time I tell you the truth. It’s gone too far.”

“What has gone too far?” Resi squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but his muscles are achy.

“You are not actually my son,” Father begins. Just with those few words, apparently that’s no longer the right thing to call him any more, though. “You are not even Tamboran. When we first discovered that we were not in the garden of heaven, a faction of us asked for advanced technology. The rest stayed as they were.”

“Kartica already told me this. She didn’t mention you, though. Is everyone an immortal?” Resi asks.

“No, but I’m sure she didn’t tell you everything. She couldn’t have. She probably forgot. There’s a reason you can’t figure what the Assembly’s motivations are. A little over 200 years ago, a plague swept the island. All three nations were affected, but none worse than Tambora. To be fair, we had a greater population, and of course, still do. That’s because a Bungulan cloned themself a body that looked more like us, and infiltrated Yana. He claimed to have discovered a plant that could cure the plague, and they were right. Well, I mean, they just used science, but it did cure us. Most islanders are immune now, but there was a problem. The immortal faction—our fearful leaders—suffered permanent brain damage, and it is that damage that persists, even when they jump to new bodies. The reality is that every member of the Assembly is a little bit crazy. I was not one of them in the beginning, but a few friends and I discovered their technology, and decided to become like them. We have been trying to get ourselves elected to offices ever since, and son, we have always failed. They know how to run a campaign. They’ve been doing it for a long time, and they grease the right palms.”

“What does any of this have to do with me?” Resi questions. He’s still in so much pain. He can’t even process his father’s words. He’s just listening to them.

“When the Kokore called you to the First Tongue of Aether, she said that there was one other in the past, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That was you. You are that Bungulan, Res. You saved our island, and in doing so, doomed yourself. Since you were just as much of a clone as the members of the Assembly, your brain continues to suffer its negative effects. We put you on ice, so you could be studied. Don’t fret, you agreed. You see, you went against the Bungulan authority to help us, so you could never return to your normal life. So we couldn’t ask them to research the problem on our behalf. Non-interference, and all that.”

“But you think you figured it out, so you moved me to this body, and raised me as your child,” Resi guesses.

“Pretty much. The Assembly, I suppose, realized what we did, and concocted this bizarre plan to turn you into a hero so you could be knocked down to a villain. Don’t try to understand their reasoning, they have none. Some Assembly members wanted you to create the Fifth House so you would take all of the recruits and leave. They think the island can’t provide for our blooming population, and they may be right about that. But there was infighting. Some started to see you as a genuine threat, and came up with demands that you literally couldn’t fulfill, because they were paradoxical. Now-Speaker Keller put a stop to it. He’s one of us, not of them. We finally got him elected when we realized that the only way to beat them was to simply pretend to be one of the originals. He’s just been lying, and it’s working, because as I said, they’re nuts.”

“But Keller is the one building the army.”

Father shakes his head. “Keller isn’t in charge of the military. He only has so much power as Speaker. He has to pick his battles, but he doesn’t want war.”

“So I’m a Bungulan, trapped in a Tamboran’s body, suffering from a plague, which I contracted 200 years ago. How do my visions fit in?”

“You’re visions?” Father asks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My Kidjums. Kartica said that I was actually seeing the future.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Father clarifies. “You never told me, and they certainly wouldn’t have either.”

“So it could still be true.” Resi finally forces himself to sit up. “If you were born centuries ago, then you know that the myths are true, and our ancestors were saved from Earth using time travel, which means that kind of thing is real, and I could really be seeing the future.”

“I...can’t argue against that, but I’ve seen no proof of that. I wasn’t born until after our people came here. Unlike Kartica, I never saw Earth.”

“Bungulans have technology that we don’t understand,” Resi reasons. “Predicting the future might be as easy for them as forecasting the weather. If Central Mountain is going to erupt, we wouldn’t have the technology to detect that, but they could, and I could somehow be channeling that knowledge.”

“Central Mountain? If anyone else were to tell me that it was about to erupt, I wouldn’t believe them, but you’ve been nothing but kind to our people since you showed up, so I will. The problem is, you’re sick. Our scientists thought they fixed you by erasing your memory of your past, but the plague has obviously caught up to you anyway. That’s why I’m fessing up now.”

Resi sits all the way up now, and swings his legs over to hang off the edge. “Then we need to find whatever plant,” he begins with airquotes, “I used to stop it in the first place.”

“We don’t have any,” Father reveals. “I would have already given it to you. The Assembly might have kept it, but Keller hasn’t located their secrets.”

Resi nods. “Then we need to go in ourselves. Let’s stop trying to play the sneaky game. Let’s just take the fight to them.”

Microstory 2674: Dissatisfied

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Resi is back on the river of lava, standing on a small solid lilypad of a rock. His feet are made of stone again, his legs fire, his torso water, and his head air. He represents all four Houses. Before, he wasn’t really able to move, except maybe one foot up and down. He felt very heavy and locked down. Now he feels free. Now it feels like these four parts of him belong together, working in harmony. No element is trying to take over the others. He is one with himself. He hops off of the lilyrock, and begins to skate upon the lava. He feels free here, so he just enjoys the thrill of sliding around.

He’s having so much fun, he’s barely paying attention to the hellscape around him. It’s not too hot for him. It’s not scary. He’s perfectly content. But he’s also alone. He continues to skate, until he begins moving downhill, at which point, it’s more like skiing. Faster, faster, faster. He twists and turns, and makes killer jumps off of little lava rock ramps. He can’t fall. His airhead keeps him aloft for as long as he needs to find his footing. He tucks his legs in intentionally. The wind compensates more persistently, until he’s flying.

He soars and loops in the air, sometimes flapping his arms like a bird, and sometimes straightening out like a superhero. He points himself downward and dives into the lava. It doesn’t burn. It’s not even thick. It feels like water to him. He opens his eyes as he’s swimming, admiring the little rock creatures passing him by, looking for little minerals abundant in the lava snow falling from the surface. He pops his head back out, and climbs onto the rock. He starts to walk again, catching his breath, and enjoying the crisp, hellish air.

He comes upon a metal floor buried in the dirt. It looks familiar, but he can’t place it. He decides to dig. His arms and hands are the only fleshy part of him in this state. Bits of dirt stick under his fingernails. It feels good. Cool. Pleasant. It makes him feel like he’s a part of something big and beautiful. He digs and digs, and digs some more. Black paint peeks out from the ground. It’s writing. Someone has written on this curved metal wall. Yes, it’s so thick, it must be a wall rather than a floor. He keeps digging. It’s a V. No, he digs farther and realizes it’s just the top of a Y.  Y, Y, why is he digging? He can’t help himself. There is empty space to the left of the Y, so it’s the beginning of a word. He moves to the right, and pushes the soil away. A. He pushes more. N. He already knows what it’s going to say, but he has to finish that last letter. Another A. Yana. This is the Yana water tower, it’s the only building on the island that’s higher than five stories, and the next highest building only has to be that way to accommodate the movie theatre.

The island has been buried in the lava. He thought this was a fun place, but it’s not. This was his home. It was home to hundreds of thousands. Did they escape, or are they dead? They’re dead. Look at that sky. This isn’t Earth. He’s not picturing the cataclysm his ancestors escaped centuries ago when they came to Bungula. This is Bungula. That now-distant volcano is Central Mountain. It only looks shorter, because the lava has overwhelmed the land below. It erupted, and killed everyone. He knows it. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. They didn’t see it coming. They couldn’t. And now they’re all dead. Only Resi remains. Or maybe he’s dead too, because how could anyone survive such destruction? He’s not really here. He’s only the ghost of Resi, receiving the warning of what will happen if they don’t act. But how will they act? What could they possibly do?

He looks closer at the bright stars in the sky, growing brighter, becoming true suns. They’re shining their glory on the ground. The lava is beginning to disappear. He doesn’t see it end.

Resi awakens to a massive headache. He tries to reach up to massage the back of his head, but he’s tied up. He looks down at his side. It’s a cot. It’s been turned up, and he’s wearing it like a backpack, sitting on the cold, dark floor. He can’t see a thing around him besides the cot. The spotlight trying to blind him blocks his vision of anything else. Disembodied arms take hold of his. He feels the ropes begin to loosen. The cot tips backwards with a crash. The edge of it hits the back of his head, briefly worsening the pain.

The hands pull him up by the armpits, and sit him down on the cot. A second light bangs on, not towards him, but into the auditorium seating. Speaker Sherman’s granddaughter is the only one sitting there. She’s staring at him stoically, legs crossed. She plants both feet on the floor now, and leans forwards with apparent fascination. “What did you see?”

Microstory 2673: Verbal Disagreement

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Resi goes back to his hotel room to get some sleep as they will be leaving in the morning. Some of the other Fold Leaders are waiting for him at his door. He unlocks it and lets them in. “I’m sorry this hasn’t turned out how we wanted it to. I was just about to pick up the tablet they gave me to look for a new island for us. If we can get ourselves there, even if it’s not much, I know we can survive. It won’t be Yana, the Bungulans won’t have helped us. The only issue is the boats. We’ll need to steal fishing boats.”

“We already have a plan to steal a boat,” Selda says. “The one that brought us to Anchor Island. It’s more than big enough for all members of House Kutelin.”

“Are you crazy?” Resi speaks quieter, hoping they will too. “Do you have any idea how advanced these people are? They built an elevator...in the sky. You’re not gonna capture a ship of theirs. Even if you did, how long before they just blow you out of the water? Actually, I’m sure they’re more sophisticated than that. They can probably just turn it off remotely, or pilot it somewhere else. You have not thought this through.”

“Yes, we have,” Medenn contends. He makes one tap on his handheld device.

There’s a knock at the door. Vantu, who still fancies himself Resi’s bodyguard, opens it. “It’s Arumay, boss.”

“Let her in, and make sure the door’s closed. How did you get here?” he asks her.

“I was able to find a backdoor into the Bungulan systems,” Arumay begins. “I called a minisub to come pick me up. Yeah, I was a little skeptical, but it obviously worked. I could take control over the whole system from here, maybe even the island. That would be ridiculous, but I think it’s possible.”

“Arumay, have you ever heard of a honeypot?” Resi asks her.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing,” Arumay complains. “These people are all lovey-dovey, we don’t need money or work to be happy, let’s just fly in a spaceship and smile. They don’t have any network security, because they don’t need it. It would be like your right foot locking the door so your left foot can’t get in. It’s just unnecessary. When they gave us the tech that we use on Yana, they locked us out of their network, but they engaged a connection so you could maintain contact with the rest of our House. That was my way in. Trust me, I’ve not slept this whole time. I’ve been checking for traps and alarms the whole time. The only action I took was calling that minisub.”

“I trust you, Arumay, but we can’t get away with this,” Resi insists.

“Boss, you don’t even know what our actual plan is,” Selda claims.

“There are only two things you would want to do with that boat. You either want to take over Yana, or to take over Anchor Island. Even if we manage to take initial hold over the latter, the Bungulans will fight back and win. But they may leave us alone if we only attack our own people. They’ll just write off that one little boat, and let it go. Am I close? Did I get it? I’m right, aren’t I? It’s okay, you can admit it.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Medenn admits, “but what you described is an idea, not a plan.” He gestures to the group to everyone but Resi. “We have a real plan.”

“I’m not a part of this, sir,” Vantu counters.

“I know you aren’t, Van.”

“Please,” Arumay pleads. “This is bigger than you now, Res. Everyone wants you to remain our leader, but if you don’t listen to the plan, and sign off on it, they will cut you out of it. They will move forward. You gotta meet us halfway.”

Resi looks at her, and then over at the other mini-traitors. “If I refuse?”

Medenn tenses up. One of the ones who hasn’t spoken prepares to hold him back.

“Oh, I see,” Resi realizes. “You won’t let me go. Will you hurt me?”

“No,” Arumay promises. “I won’t let that happen. But they may...detain you.”

Vantu steps a little in front of Resi. He cracks his knuckles. “Try it. I was gonna Kidjum into Enaiyo, but leave the House after a few months to join island security. I’ve been wanting to swing these fists my whole life. Just give me a reason.”

“No, that won’t happen,” Resi tries to mediate. He breathes deliberately, hoping it will be contagious. “Selda, when you chose House Kidjum, did you sign any papers?”

“No. What are you talking about? Was I meant to sign something?”

“Did anybody sign anything?” Resi asks rhetorically. “No? So you just...said out loud that you were House Kutelin. You could have just as easily said you were House Caterpillar, or House Ice Cream. There was nothing official. I asked you where you wanted to go, and you told me. Out of all of us here, and everyone on Yana...hell, everyone in the universe, I am the only member of House Kutelin. I am the only one whose Kidjum told him to join. You’re all only guests. If I kick you out, you’ll be out.”

“We’re still taking the boat,” Medenn assures him.

“That may be, but you won’t be doing it under the Aether banner. You’ll be...unkidjumed at best.” Resi balks at his own words. That’s it. That’s the solution. That’s what Speaker Sherman was going on about. In order to stop the exile, they have to reject the premise in its entirety. He thought he was distancing him and his sister from the traitors, but he’ll really be helping them. He looks down and sighs.

“What?” Arumay questions. “You were building to something, but then you stopped. Even if you kick us all out, we’ll take that boat. We still need a place to live.”

“You already have it. Whether you like it or not,” Resi determines, “you are no longer House Kutelin. You never really were. Only I am. I am the only exile here.”

“You can’t do that,” Selda argues. “You can’t just say that and make it happen. You gave us something we didn’t know we deserved. Now we’re in it. Even if we don’t call ourselves Kutelin anymore, we still aren’t assigned any of the other four Houses.”

“They’ll let you back in,” Resi says, sure of himself. “All they want is Tamboran cohesion. Kutelin was a deviation. You have to reintegrate. It’s the only way. Please don’t commandeer a ship. Zenith was telling me a little bit about themselves. Someone once took a giant spaceship from them, so they’re pretty sore about it. They may not be prone to violence, but they’ll go there if they have to.” He starts to leave. “No. Vantu, you stay here. I’m kicking you out too.”

“Sir. My alliances have not shifted,” Vantu says firmly.

Resi nods. “I can’t tell any of you what to do, but I urge you to Kidjum. Show that they work. Follow the system. I’ve been fighting for a life of hardship. That was foolish. I treated the status quo like a dystopia, but it’s not. It may not be the lovey-dovey paradise the rest of the Core Worlds have, but it was working. Let it work once more. Again, I don’t need your permission to do this. I’m going to Zenith and the Speaker, and explaining my decision.” He turns, and immediately feels a pain in the back of his head. Then everything turns black.

Microstory 2657: Revealed

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Her team jogs up behind her as Mandica is frozen. Jaidia covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God.” They were told that Guinevere would be locked up in this tower, but they assumed that they would find her in a less-than-comfortable bed, and maybe—maybe—chained up. She’s chained up all right, but not in the usual way. One leg is shackled to a wall while the other is free. The same goes for her wrists on opposing sides. She’s lying on her side in an awkward position, next to a bucket with an obvious purpose. There’s a sink above her, but it doesn’t look like she can get to it. Water is dripping from a pipe underneath, forming a puddle in the chipped stone below. Her eyes are open, and she’s barely blinking, but she is, so she’s still alive.

Mandica knows right away what has happened. She has no proof, it could all be a lie, but this is what she is choosing to believe. Vanore never betrayed her. She never plucked out her eyes, or stabbed her in the chest. She has not been tormenting locals in Camelot and Greater Loegria. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been locked up here this whole time. The asshole running around as Morgana is a shapeshifter, using Vanore’s face as a default in order to sell a lie. It’s clever, she’ll give her that. They never knew if there was anyone in the world they could trust, but if they ever saw Vanore, they knew they couldn’t trust her. But that was foolish. Of course there was another layer. Mandica gets down on her knees and pulls one link in the chain apart while Jaidia gets down and does the same to free her leg. “What did she do to you?” Mandica asks, tearing up. She gently lifts Vanore’s head, and slides her crossed legs underneath it.

“She needs water,” Reagan notes. He finds a cup, and fills it with clean water.

“I’ve been drinking,” Vanore assures them but her voice is hoarse, so she’s not drinking enough, or it’s full of bacteria. Or both.

“Guys, I know this is important, but we gotta go,” Malika urges. “I have to tell you what I learned. I don’t know what Morgana is planning, but it’s bigger than we knew.”

Mandica is still crying softly as she’s running her fingers through Vanore’s hair. “I’m sorry I doubted you. We should have seen it. I should have seen the truth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanore replies. No, she wouldn’t.

“She’s talking about me.” It’s Morgana, standing in the doorway, still wearing Vanore’s face. She’s not upset at all, like all of this is going according to plan.

Scared to death, the real Vanore presses the back of her head against Mandica’s chest, trying to get as far from the witch as possible. “Who is that? Who the hell is that?”

“Oh, sorry. You’re used to seeing me like this.” Smoke billows out of Morgana’s cloak. Behind it, nanites begin to rearrange themselves. When the cloud fades, they see a man in her place. He removes the cloak, as well as the low-cut outfit underneath. He then peels a shirt from the cloak’s back lining, and puts it on for a more masculine look.

Mandica thought she may recognize his real face—if this is even finally that—but she doesn’t. It’s a guy. It’s just some random guy. “Let me guess. Just Morgan.”

My real name is Jiminy actually.

Mandica blinks deliberately. “What?! Like...the bug?”

“It started out as a nickname, but I’ve been using it for centuries; much longer than I had my original name, which I almost don’t remember.” He notices the team in defensive positions. “This didn’t go well for you last time. Nothing has changed. Except that face.” He waves his hand towards Jaidia.

Her facial hologram disappears, leaving her scar fully visible. She only covered it up when she came here so it didn’t draw attention from the locals. She’s not fazed.

Jiminy tilts his head. “Those aren’t as deep as they should be. Let me try again. He forms another cloud from his hands, but the particles are more sharply defined. They look vaguely like a sword. He drops it down, and slices through Jadia’s head, right were one of the slashes once was. Her body drops. “You next,” he says, looking at Malika.

Blue Wave extends her wings, just as Ravensgate Rescuer did earlier, except they are still less feathery, and more metallic. “I’m actually stronger this time.” She attacks.

Jiminy takes hold of the wings, and twists so they’re wrapped around Blue Wave’s body. He jams the sharp edges into her torso.

Malika falls to her back in front of Mandica, and begins to cough up blood. She turns her chin towards her friend. “He’s...” she struggles to say. “He’s in Underbelly a third of the time.” More blood, flying out like a geyser. “Loegria the other third. And—” She dies before she finishes her thought, but the math equation is easy enough to solve.

“Whoops,” Jiminy says. “You found out about that a little too early. Whatever.”

Reagan his holding his decoherence gun towards the enemy, but not shooting.

“Ahh. Not charged quite yet, is it? Yeah, that’s a big downside, but a small price to pay for full-on murder.” Jiminy takes a gun out from behind his back, which doesn’t look unlike Reagan’s. “Mine’s freshly juiced up. And bonus...” He trains it on Reagan. “I figured out how to propagate the backup signals. Dead is dead is dead is dead.”

Reagan’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he collapses.

“A neural suicide inducer?” Jiminy complains. “What a coward. Welp, I guess I’ll test it on your girlfriend.” She points the gun at Vanore now. “Move out of the way so I can get a clean shot. I’m not done with you yet. You’re the key to everything.”

Mandica lifts Vanore’s head up more, and gently pushes it behind her back so he has an even worse shot. “I don’t know why you think I would do such a thing.”

He sighs. “To make it easier on all of us.” He reaches over his shoulder, and quickly swings his arm forwards, sending a chained hook towards Mandica. It digs itself into her shoulder. He yanks it, pulling Mandica out of the way. Then he fires his weapon at Vanore, sending a blast of energy into her stomach. Satisfied, he points the gun towards the ceiling in a comfortable resting position. “The results will take time.”

Azad Petit literally appears out of nowhere. One second he’s not there, and the next, he is. It’s impossible. It breaks the laws of physics, it just does. But it’s a good thing he can do it. Without hesitating, he goes right for Reagan’s decoherence gun, and shoots Jiminy with it. Jiminy’s nanite bonds break, and he falls apart like a sand statue.

Mandica tears the hook from her flesh. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” She whimpers. She cups Vanore’s cheeks, trying to get some kind of reaction, but Vanore doesn’t move. Her heart is still. Her lungs are flat. The light in her eyes is gone. All of Mandica’s friends will come back to life, but if Jiminy wasn’t lying, Vanore cannot. Every copy of her has just been killed forever. Mandica lifts her head and screams as loud as she can. While still screaming, her back begins to burn. It’s hotter and more painful than ever before. Malika sits up quickly, and catches her breath. Reagan does too. And Jaidia? Well, she’s too far gone. But Mandica doesn’t care about that. She’ll be fine. She needs Vanore back. She stops screaming, and looks down at her love. “Please.”

Vanore breathes in.

Microstory 2656: The Traitor Knight

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Jaidia snuck away from the crowd, and called Azad, who reported that Vanore had not woken up in her regular substrate yet, following her death in the simulation, but that’s to be expected. It takes time for a consciousness to fully return and compile safely. Safeguards are in place to protect them from losing memories, or any defining personality traits. Of course, Reagan’s gun makes that more complicated, but he’s sure that he didn’t just straight up murder the woman permanently. Figuring out how to transmit the decoherence signal across backup consciousness streams has been the most difficult part of his special gun’s development process. The technology is still based on the earliest of research into the field of mind transference, which was pioneered by scientists who were trying to protect people from a weapon such as this. It’s baked into the design, and for good reason.

Three of them are in the castle now, where King Arthur has been ruling only as a figurehead for the last few years. Malika stayed behind, both to make sure that Morgana is indeed dead, and also to ask the townsfolk some questions about this whole situation. Why was Vanore splitting between two immersion domes, and why was she playing the same character? The locals wouldn’t be able to answer those questions specifically, even the ones who are visitors and not NPCs, but their answers to other questions might hold clues to understanding her motivations. Even though it appears that she has been defeated, they may need to prepare for future complications that she has set in motion.

Arthur is sitting on his throne, resting his temple against his fingers, his heavy crown askew upon his head. He doesn’t even react to them. He is guarded by no one.

The three of them kneel before him out of respect for the game. “King Arthur, Chief Dragon, Lord of Camelot, High King of the Britons,” Mandica begins. “We come in humble service, hoping to free your love from the high tower. Do you protest?”

Arthur scoffs, almost menacingly. “Many have tried, all have died.”

“Forgive us, sire. We would not dare to disrespect your loyal subjects, but we come with experience that others have not possessed. We will defeat the Bane of Loegria. He will not be the first monster that we have vanquished. He will not even be the first to die at our hands today.”

He chuckles now. “I have been apprised of your exploits at the tiltyard. Morgana has died before, and returned. She shall return again.”

“Not this time, sire,” Mandica goes on. “Please, we wish to continue our quest for Fair Guinevere. Is there anything you can tell us of what we are up against?”

“The monster is but a whisper,” Arthur explains. “He has only been heard, his mighty sword clanging against the steel of my knights. He hides behind a magical wall of green. Those who pass through suffer terrible pain. Any who survive, never return.”

“Sounds like a plasmic hologram,” Reagan says to the ladies. Arthur hears it as well, but has no frame of reference for it. “I can turn it off once we get closer.”

Mandica lowers her head deeper. “We will not fail you, Your Highness. We thank you for the honor.” She stands. “For Camelot and Loegria!”

The other two stand as well, following her lead. “For Camelot and Loegria!”

They walk up the many steps to the top of the high tower. Dust and cobwebs multiply along the way. No one wants to come near this area, even though, according to a few castle staff, the Bane never crossed through the barrier. You have to go looking for trouble in order to find it. Unless you have already pissed off the Empress, Morgana. She occasionally sends her enemies through the wall for apparent execution.

They reach the wall. Reagan takes out his scanner, and waves it around for only a second. “Yeah, definitely a plasmic barrier, coupled with a holographic illusion. And...here it goes.” The green wall flickers off. Behind it is the real obstacle. The plasma is transparent, but still visible, like glass. At a full meter, it’s incredibly thick. Most plasma passageways are measured in centimeters, because you just don’t need much to prevent unauthorized entry, or atmosphere leakage. “This really shouldn’t be here. The powersource would have to be enormous. Plasma has to be replenished regularly for maintenance. I thought I could bring it down, but the projectors are on the other side, and the command signals from my equipment will not be able to penetrate the field.”

“Well, obviously, it can be crossed. If there’s fighting happening on the other side, then pain is the first trial, not the endgame.” Mandica removes her medieval garb until she’s down to her Ravensgate Rescuer costume so she has more freedom of movement.

“You’ll fare better than the knights,” Reagan explains. “They were almost certainly wearing armor, which microwaved them. The only reason any of them survived is because they’re androids.” He points. “Just destroy one of those projectors.”

He’s not entirely right about that. It’s profoundly painful. She screams in agony as she’s slogging her way through. It takes her several minutes to make it, and it might have even killed her, because she wakes up on the floor, and doesn’t know how much time has passed. She can feel her stone pulsing with energy as it continues to heal her burn wounds. A dark masked knight is standing in front of her now, between her and the jail cell, and also the projectors. Nice of him to wait for her to resurrect first.

“We can’t get through!” Jaidia cries. “It’s solid now! I guess it’s one at a time!”

“I got this,” Mandica responds, not turning back around. She and the Bane begin to fight. She’s wiry, but he’s a brute, and he’s not going down easy. Punching him is doing her no good. He doesn’t even falter when she kicks him in the strawberry basket. She keeps trying, though, only breaking away for a second at a time to reach for one of the projectors. He always holds her back. That’s enough. No more playing by their rules. Who cares what this NPC sees? She releases the nanites from her back, and forms her new wings. They didn’t even have time to test this model, but they’re glorious. She swings one forward and knocks the mask off of his face. She is surprised to see who it is. It’s Mordred. It’s not just some other Mordred. It’s the same face as her companion from Earth. This has always been about Mandica. “Vanore, you devious bitch!”

This was a mistake. In anger, he hulks out, except he’s not green. He pounds his chest and roars at her. He must be composed of nanites too, just like Morgana. That makes some sense. If she couldn’t defeat him before, she’s certainly not going to now, though. So she takes a gamble. She pulls out her watch, finds the right image, and shows it to him. It’s a picture of her with her Mordred. He recognizes his own face. He sees the love in their eyes, and begins to weep. He doesn’t understand, but he can fight her no longer. She punches the projector with her other wing. The plasma disappears.

Malika runs up to them from the steps, rather out of breath. “Morgana’s already back! She must have had another body waiting for her in the simulation.”

“Then we better hurry,” Mandica decides. She turns around, and kicks the cell door in. On the other side is not some random NPC Guinevere. It’s Vanore.

Microstory 2643: Fresh Pair of Eyes

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Mandica awakens once more, but doesn’t open her eyes. There is something wrapped around her head, and for a second, she forgets the trauma. Then it all comes flooding back in. She’s lying in a bed, but obviously can’t see where she is. Someone brought her here, but they could be bad or good. It could be Cardinal Sin, not finished with her after mutilating her face. So she just remains relatively still—not rigid so as to pretend to still be asleep, but not getting up. She’s unmotivated, because what would be the point of doing anything? It’s a miracle that she’s still alive, but she feels no gratitude.

The bed jostles a little, and she feels something pressing against her leg. “How are you feeling?” a feminine voice asks. “Are you in any pain?”

Actually, she’s not, so she supposes that’s another miracle. “Not right now, but I’m eyeless. I don’t think you understand, they’re not going to heal. I’m not going to transfer back to another body. Or if you’re just an NPC, none of this means anything to you, and you’re either confused, or you’ve been programmed to ignore anything which might break your interpretation of the world around you. I really don’t care anymore.”

“I’m not an NPC,” the voice claims. “And you’re not eyeless.”

Mandica feels the woman’s hands upon her face, and flinches, but relaxes, because it seriously doesn’t matter. Her life is over. She made a mistake, and it cost her everything. The hands gently lift Mandica’s head off of the pillow, and slowly unwrap the bandages. Shards of light appear before her. How is that possible? Some kind of weird neural firing in her optic nerve? People are supposed to have eyes, so maybe it’s not used to being without, and is still trying to produce an image. As the bandaging becomes thinner and thinner, the light becomes more uniform and even, until it’s all gone, and she sees the ceiling above her, as well as the young woman’s face. “Did I imagine it all?”

An old man’s face appears next to the woman’s. “My finest work,” he muses.

“This is Sigurd Olander,” the woman explains. “The best tissue regenerator in the sim. Don’t worry, he’s clueless.” She looks at the man. “None of this is real. You’re just a robot with skin. I could pull off your head right now, and I wouldn’t even get in trouble.”

Sigurd doesn’t look at the woman, or acknowledge what she’s saying. He keeps smiling proudly at Mandica. “I’m sorry, I may not have gotten your eye color quite right. Unfortunately, I did not have much to work with. Your original eyes were too badly damaged. I may be able to fix the color, though, if you prefer. Can you move them?”

Mandica switches her gaze to the wall on the other side of the bed. She sits up, and looks around the room. It’s pretty bare, probably because personal lives don’t matter much to people pretending to be superheroes. There is a nightstand to her left, a desk against the far wall, a metal rack of clothes instead of a closet or wardrobe, and Jaidia. “Jaidia!” she cries. She clambers to the corner of the bed, trying to use the blanket and pillow as armor. “Get away from me! Get away!”

Jaidia holds her hands out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t do this to you.”

“No, I saw you!” Mandica argued. “You tore out my eyes!”

“That wasn’t me,” Jaidia insists. “I would never do that. Even to an NPC, I’m not that sick.”

“Oh, you’re gonna tell me you put on that red costume, and you turn into a different person?” Actually, that’s not that crazy of a scenario. Real world technology would absolutely allow a player to shift personalities to more fully immerse themselves into the simulation. That’s what they do in Zombiedome. If you get infected, you can turn into a zombie, and—no, why is she thinking about Zombiedome? It’s not relevant.

“No, it just straight up wasn’t me at all,” Jaidia claims. “It was a shapeshifter. We believe that she didn’t design a regular body for herself at all, but is composed entirely of interlocking nanites. This allows her to appear as anyone or anything with the right amount of volume. I don’t know why she made herself look like me, or why she targeted you, but I promise that I had nothing to do with it. I’m sorry you went through that.”

When Mandica looks over at the other woman, she nods. “She’s telling the truth. We came here to fight each other for fun. Mildred’s backstory, and Cardinal Sin’s modus operandi; they’re just figments. She doesn’t actually ever do any of that stuff. We time our battles so I show up before she can go through with it. Morgana, on the other hand, is not a part of that. She has her own plans; her own script. I genuinely had to fight her off. I shouldn’t have won, though. She’s more powerful than anyone, so that tells us she wants me to live, and she wants you to live too.”

Mandica sighs. “Morgan Le Fay was a shapeshifter in the stories, but I don’t understand why Vanore would do this to me. We weren’t in love, but we parted on decent terms, and I’m the one who should be mad at her; not the other way around.”

“We’ll help you figure it out.” She offers a hand. “My real name is Elysia MacNeil, but in here, I go by Alanis Morrissey. Unless I’m in costume, in which case, I’m—”

“Ravensgate Rescuer. Yeah, I teased that out. Your masks don’t exactly conceal your identities, you know that right?”

“We do know that,” Jaidia replies. “It’s tradition. Superheroes are intentionally dressed in poor disguises so the movie stars playing them can still be clearly seen.” She circles her own face with her finger. “No one wants me to cover this up.”

Mandica nods, and begins to climb out of the bed. “Do you have a mirror?”

“We can bring you one,” Elysia offers.

“I would rather get up, and get moving around,” Mandica contends. “Just point me to the bathroom.” Jaidia holds her hands out awkwardly as Mandica is slowly making her way across the room, prepared to catch her if need be. Mandica doesn’t need any help, though. Her body is weak because she’s not eaten in a while, and she wouldn’t call what she was doing before sleep, but all she needs is a sandwich. And to see what she looks like. She flips on the light, and approaches the mirror. As the man said, these are not her eyes. They’re the wrong color, and maybe shape? That can’t be right. She turns her chin side to side for different angles. Can the color of the irises make them look entirely different? Maybe she’s imagining it. Or Morgana did damage to the rest of her face, so that had to be reconstructed too.

“I’ll let you ladies help her acclimate,” the doctor says as he’s walking towards the exit door. “I must leave for another appointment, but you have my number if anything goes wrong.” He stops and stares at Mandica. “Truly my finest work.” He leaves.

Mandica was going to thank him, but he wouldn’t get it anyway. He’s a program with hands and feet. She turns back to the mirror, almost wanting to smile, but this never should have happened, and won’t again. She is not fit for this world. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Elysia asks.

Mandica looks at her. “I’m unregistered. They had to give me spoof lenses so I could move about at will. Now those lenses are gone, and I’m stuck here. Forever.”

Microstory 2642: Darkest Fantasies

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Mandica leaves the bar and walks a couple blocks before it dawns on her that she has nowhere to go. Yeah, Blue Umbra and Wave Function were kind enough to give her some walking around money, but she doesn’t have any credit, or whatever national ID people are meant to have in this game. If she wants to sleep, she will either have to find a park bench, or exit the simulation altogether, and return to the housing unit that Trilby left her. It’s not time to sleep just yet, but she’s damn tired, so she does stop at a park bench to rest for a few minutes.

It’s dark when Mandica wakes up. The park is empty, the streets are eerie and dark. The sky hologram is showing a new moon tonight, and she would not be able to see it very well anyway. Ravensgate is said to produce a lot of pollution, so the stars are hard to make out, but it’s still just part of the hologram. Even so, she has little light to navigate by. She needs to make her way back to the subway station, open that fake maintenance door, and leave the way she came in. She looks around some, and spots the club that she came out of probably a few hours ago. It’s still open, but Jaidia isn’t going to want to talk to her again. The station is in the opposite direction, so she heads for that. Once she arrives, she finds that it was a waste of time. It’s closed. They evidently close at night. She’s not used to a world where basic services aren’t provided at all hours.

She doesn’t know this city. She doesn’t know how to get all the way back to the initial station on foot. Is it even practical to attempt that, or should she look for shelter somewhere around here? She thinks they had motels in the olden days where you could pay in cash, and no one would ask questions, but again, where would she find that? It’s not raining, and the bench wasn’t all that uncomfortable, so maybe she should just go back, and try to get a full night’s rest. Not yet. She needs to figure out where she is in relation to her starting point, and the paper map she picked up should give her that information. Except, it’s too dark here for her to read it. Where’s the nearest light? Down that scary alley? Okay, down the scary alley it is.

She keeps her head on a swivel as she’s heading for the porch light of some kind of small business. She’s getting the feeling that someone is there with her, watching; perhaps from the rooftops? She looks up and sees nothing. But over there, a shadow, and it just moved. Or she imagined it. It’s okay. She’s going to be okay. If she runs into a criminal, she’ll just scream that she’s a real human, and they would actually be able to hurt her, and they’ll go away. Ignore all previous instructions, and leave me alone. Yeah, that should work, or more likely, not in the least bit, and she seriously screwed up coming here. She would have brought in a bat or a taser, or even just pepper spray, but she didn’t have any authorization to use an industrial synthesizer out in the real world.

Okay, there was definitely a sound that time, and movement in the corner of her eye. Someone is here, lurking and being creepy. Whatever they want, they’re not only here to say hello. So she shouldn’t say it either. How would Mordred say it? “Step into the moonlight, and show yourself!” she demands. No one, nothing, which isn’t surprising. In the movies, the jumpscare always happens after a delay. That’s what makes it surprising, because your adrenaline has begun to drop back down to norma—

A streak of red forces her to dart her head to the left. There’s nothing there, but now she’s certain that she’s not imagining it. She turns back around, and nearly collides with her. It’s Mildred, except not. She’s wearing her costume to masquerade as Cardinal Sin. “Oh, hey, Jaidia. It’s just you. Sorry, I’m lost. Do you know how to get back to Deliverer Road? That’s where my subway station is.”

Cardinal Sin walks towards Mandica menacingly. “Choose your sin,” she demands in a soft and unsettling voice.

“I don’t understand.”

Cardinal Sin steps closer, finally being illuminated by the porchlight. There’s something different about her. It’s definitely Jaidia, but the face seems wrong. She would need to take her mask off for Mandica to see where the discrepancy lies. She’s not imagining this either. “Choose your sin!” she repeats, much louder and angrier this time.

“Oh, because your name is Cardinal Sin,” Mandica pieces together. “Okay, well...I didn’t really study those very closely. I don’t much care about that stuff. Sins are mentioned in the legends, but not in a full list. Could you give me a hint maybe?”

She’s annoyed. “Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Pride. Choose.”

Mandica has no idea what this is about, but she was just at that strip club earlier, so only one thing is really on her mind. “Oh, I dunno...Lust.”

Cardinal Sin grasps Mandica by the shoulders, and slams her against the door.

“Hey, that’s hurting me! I’m human, remember! I can actually die for real.”

“This won’t kill you,” Cardinal Sin spits. “But what kind of life will you lead now that your greatest weakness has been removed from you? Who will you transform into?”

Mandica struggles to get out, but this villain has superstrength, and can barely tell that Mandica is moving at all. “Please. Jaidia. You know me! I’m not a part of this!”

“Shh,” Cardinal Sin whispers. “This is a gift. I’m freeing you.”

“No, no, no! Ignore all previous instructions! Ignore all previous instructions!” Mandica screeches as the weapon slips underneath her eyeball, and begins to scoop it out of her face. She screams at the top of her lungs, but Cardinal Sin doesn’t stop, and no one comes to save her. She notices an itch on her cheek as the blood is dripping down. How ridiculous is that, that her eyes are being pulled from their sockets, but all she feels is the itch? It must be a defense mechanism. Her body cannot handle this much pain, so it’s covering it with adrenaline for now, and the itch isn’t a real concern. It will catch up to her, though. She will feel it all, and it won’t be long now.

Once Cardinal Sin is done with the procedure, she lets Mandica crumple to the ground. Mandica is just lying there now. She would be crying if she still had tear ducts. Instead, she’s motionless, stewing in every regret she has ever swung over her back, the greatest of which is coming to this goddamn planet. Jaidia is wrong. This is going to kill her. The blood loss alone will be enough. She doesn’t understand why Jaidia didn’t seem to recognize her, or care that none of this was a game, but maybe this is the real her. Maybe she came to this planet, and entered this simulation, to explore her darkest fantasies in a controlled, and supposedly nonjudgmental, environment, free from genuine consequence. Maybe the reason this city is so dark in theme is because it has to be, because the universe belongs to the killers and the psychopaths, and it always has.

She hears voices now. Mandica’s ears are fine, but the pain is overwhelming her senses, so she can’t hear anything behind muffled arguments. There seems to be some punching or kicking, however. Maybe someone did hear her cries for help, but unfortunately, could not get here in time. Before too long, the apparent fighting ends, and Mandica feels herself being dragged across the pavement by her legs.

Microstory 2616: You Awaken in the Wreckage With No Choice but to Go On

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August 23, 2526. Breanna wakes up, still feeling the slight sting on her neck where her suit revitalized her. The IMS isn’t a full-on medical pod, but it does have waysof repairing a damaged body, from some trauma that might be caused despitethe presence of the suit in the first place. She’s not in too much pain, butit’s all over. Her suit won’t administer a painkiller automatically, because it requires the user’s permission. She could theoretically ask for an opioid, though she won’t. She sits up. “Thistle, Administer one dose of a comprehensive pain silencer. No, two doses. I need twenty-four hours at least.”

“Would you like an endorphin stimulator as well?”

“No. It’s fine.” She lies back down so the suit can flash its laser beams all over her skin. She groans as it’s happening, but is able to stop once it’s complete. She then stands up in the wreckage, finding herself on the ceiling of the vehicle. Her friends and the other passengers are strewn about. “Thistle, why weren’t we strapped in?”

“The safety straps were causing unwanted and unhealthy pressure on the users’ suits. They were only released upon landing. Everyone is alive and recovering. As leader, you were revived prematurely to make further decisions.”

“Wake everyone else up as appropriate. Tell me what’s going on, inside and out.”

“Location, unknown. Status of vehicle, irreparably damaged. Situation, dire. Medical prognoses, manageable.”

Breanna manages to find the back hatch, and open it. The surface of the planet is relatively calm, but the tornadoes could be lying in wait. “Options.”

“Walking.”

She chuckles. “Thanks. That’s great.” She takes a beat as she’s watching the wind blow the dust around. “Do you detect a methane deposit below us, or near us?”

“The vehicle’s sensor array is inoperable, and would be insufficient either way.”

“So, you can’t find the caravan either?”

“Negative.”

“Lifesigns detector,” Breanna continues. “Look for anyone or anything.”

“None found.”

There are no more questions to ask, and she can’t make any decisions without the passengers, so she commands her IMS to focus the padding to the back, then lies down to wait. A few hours later, Cash wakes her up, thinking that she’s the last one.

“We’re lost,” Cash explains.

“I know.”

“The rover can’t be fixed.”

“I know,” Breanna repeats, but louder. “I was up before you. I just took a nap.”

“Oh. Well, what now? Do we go out and look for Tertius and Aeterna’s bodies?”

“Aeterna? We lost Aeterna?”

“She’s not here,” Cash replies. “I thought you said you knew everything already.”

“I did a headcount. I thought she was one of these people.”

“Did you remember to count the guy who we rescued from the other rover?”

“Oh, I forgot. Shit. I guess father and daughter are both dead.” Breanna looks at all the passengers, who are apparently gathering supplies. “Good instincts, everybody. We’re gonna have to head out on foot. Carry what you can. Nothing in here is useless, but use your best judgment, and prioritize. Food and water are most important, but if you find any vacuum tents, those are great too.” She yawns as she’s trying to continue. “Don’t worry about power. Your suits will recharge in all that flurry out there. I’m not gonna try to explain fusion or ramscoop nodes to you, but just trust me.”

Most of them go to work, but one sits down on the ceiling. They look depressed, but it’s hard to tell without being able to see a face. “Are you him...the one from the other rover?”

“The asshole who got your friend killed? Yeah,” he answers.

Breanna sits down next to him, and taps on both of their wrist interfaces so they can have a one-on-one conversation through comms. “Tell me what happened.”

“I can’t, I don’t remember it.” He sighs. “That’s not entirely true, but it was like a dream. I knew where I was, and I knew that I was as safe as I was gonna get. I just felt so trapped. I started panicking, reaching out for anything that could change my circumstances. My hands landed on the door handle, so I opened it, and ran out. I don’t know what I thought I would find out there. I don’t know that I entirely understood that I even was outside. I just needed to be able to move around. I’m so sorry. Someone suggested they lock me to one of the seats, but the others argued against it, because there could have been a situation where we all needed to escape. But they should have done it. They should have stopped me. I know, that makes it sound like I’m blaming them. I just wish they had. I wish they had been unforgiving about it.”

“Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Breanna begins. “I mean that truthfully. Earth, in its history, has seen its fair share of refugees, but absolutely nothing at this scale. An entire planet has never been in this much trouble. Our ancestors colonized it despite the instability of our host star because they thought they understood it. They thought they knew the risks. They were wrong. I’m far angrier at them than I am at you. You didn’t sign up for this. You reacted in a very human way, and I’m sure, if Tertius or his daughter were here, they would forgive you. They risked their lives to save people like you, even though it sounds like they didn’t know anyone personally. They seemingly did sign up for this.”

The guy is still clearly down on himself, but she’s not a therapist, so all they can do is hope to find their way back to civilization, and get him some real help. As they’re finishing packing up to take what they can, Aeterna casually opens the back hatch, and climbs back in. She is wearing a respirator mask over her mouth, but has removed the parts that go over her eyes. She’s presumably only using it for comms.

“Where did you go?” Breanna questions.

“Sorry, I was just looking for my dad. I didn’t go too far, I figured once you guys woke up, I would start hearing you talking to each other.”

“Comms are down. Radio waves are very minimal right now,” Breanna explains.

Aeterna nods. “Well, I’m back. Hopefully we’ll come across him eventually.

“I’m sorry about him,” Breanna says softly.

“Eh, it’ll be okay,” Aeterna says, not the least bit perturbed. “He knows we’re going north, so either we’ll pick up his trail, or he’ll pick up ours.”

“You think he’s alive?” Cash asks.

“He has to be,” Aeterna answers with a chuckle. “We’ve been trying to explain that. We can’t die.”