When Ingrid Alvarado was living in the Fifth Division parallel reality, she
managed to work her way up to the rank of Telamon. She was in command of the
Offensive Contingency Detachment, leading an army against the opposing force
from the Andromeda Galaxy. She was happy with where she was, as were all of
her compatriots, though they had complicated relationships with each other.
When Team Matic showed up, they didn’t like how the supercluster was being
run, and to speak the truth, neither did anyone else, really. Ingrid was
proud of the work that she was doing, but she didn’t want to kill her
enemies. She didn’t like it. It just seemed so unavoidable, so when
Captain Leona Matic tried to take over the entire alliance by force, she
knew that she couldn’t surrender. While the others agreed to send champions
to their deaths, sure that they would maintain their own power in the end,
she held back. When the fight was over, and only one champion remained in
the ring, they were shocked to find that that winner was Leona. They had all
underestimated her—all but Ingrid.
Leona and her team were wildcards who appeared out of nowhere, and began to
resist the establishment pretty much right away. You don’t get that kind of
courage from inexperience and a lack of fortitude. Honestly, those guys were
dicks, and Ingrid couldn’t help but be pleased with the results. Leona was
now in control of the Fifth Division Detachment Alliance, and Ingrid was her
number two. But not really. Leona was clearly a rolling stone, so it was
only a matter of time before she reached her goals in this corner of the
universe, and moved on. This did indeed happen, and Ingrid was placed in
full command. With her newfound power, Ingrid signed treaties with the
Andromeda Consortium, and the Denseterium, which gave her even
more power. She ranked up to become a Superordinate. This novel title
turned out to be more important than ever when the five realities collapsed,
and every living being was sent to the Sixth Key. They were unexpectedly on
the verge of fighting a new war, and The Supercluster was positioned to gain
more power than ever, as was Ingrid herself.
The bittersweet truth, however, was that this isn’t what happened. A
sentient tree had other ideas. They were forced to negotiate in the Rock
Meetings. The sparks of conflict never ignited the flames of war, but Ingrid
never managed to wrest control over a whole universe either. That certainly
would have been nice to see written in the history books. Even so, what she
realized was that she was kind of tired of it all. Leona secretly gave her
the gift of virtual immortality, which also came with a side of an immense
change of perspective. This shift in her worldview happened gradually as the
realities collided, tensions rose, and the diplomatic discussions pressed
forth. What was she doing with her life? Why was she so violent? Why did she
care so much about control? She was about to give it all up when they were
abducted yet again, and trapped on a prison world to prevent them from
causing a temporal paradox. But she stuck to her guns, so to speak, and is
now striving for a life of peace and harmony. She loves it here in the
Garden Dimension. When that same sentient tree asked for volunteers to be
“human agents” she shrunk into herself, hoping that no one would volunteer
her. She isn’t the only member of the military here, but she’s the only one
who has seen any real action. Bariq Medley is a General, but he’s only
trained in the theoretical. He doesn’t know what real war is like. His
reality was too progressive before he was even born.
Right now, Ingrid is sitting on a bush that somehow grew in the shape of a
bench. It’s quite comfortable, actually. The moss that grows on it is very
soft, and she was told that it excretes self-cleansing saponins, though
she’s not entirely sure what that means. They didn’t really have plants
where she lived before. She was aware of them on some planets, but the first
time she saw plant life up close was after the transition to the Sixth Key.
This will be her first sunset too. “If this is a pocket dimension, how is
there a sun here?” she asks. “Is it only a simulation?”
She’s sitting with Onyx Wembley, who has the title of Botanical
Orchestrator. He organizes all the plants, in their little sections, making
sure that they don’t disturb each other, or compete for nutrients. “It’s not
just a pocket dimension, but a parallel dimension as well. There’s a
whole world out there. We’re housed in a very thin pocket only so that we
can better control the environment. But you could go outside if you wanted;
as in, outside outside. That’s why the sun looks kind of hazy. Those
aren’t clouds, it’s the mostly transparent dimensional barrier between us
and the sky.”
“I see. So that is the real Earthan sun.”
“More like a copy of it,” Onyx clarifies.
She nods, and continues to enjoy the orange and red colors filling the sky
now like spilled paint. Magic hour is what they called it.
Unfortunately, her joy does not last long. All of the sudden, there’s an
explosion out of nowhere. A cloud of particles hovers in the air a few
meters from them for a couple seconds before tightening up in the form of a
person. She doesn’t know who it is, but as the two of them are standing
there, afraid to approach the imploding man, another dust cloud appears
farther away. It coalesces into Andrei Orlov. They watch in horror and
confusion as more and more people appear out of thin air, scattered randomly
about the grounds. She knows a few of them, but not everyone. They all
collapse on the grass, and catch their breaths. The last two people are a
man Ingrid knew to be from the Fifth Division, and then Selma Eriksen. Both
of them are brandishing weapons, though neither is in a position to use it.
Ingrid takes the man’s rifle, and turns it on him. “What’s your name again?”
“That?” Selma asks, chuckling. “That’s Ammo Fucker.”
“Fuck you, bitch! You killed me!”
“You’re not dead yet,” Ingrid explains.
Ayata Seegers runs over from her own explosion site, and reaches down for
Selma. “Are you okay? Is your back broken?”
“It was broken?” Ingrid questions.
“I think it was, yeah,” Selma says. She stands up, and hops around. “It’s
not anymore, though. Dying cured me.”
“You can’t die in the Crest Hotel,” one of the women Ingrid recognizes says.
What was her name? Elmie? “It’s a safety feature. If you are killed,
you’ll respawn somewhere else.” She looks around at the Garden. “Though, not
wherever we are now.”
“Well, we didn’t know that,” the angry Fifth Divisioner guy argues.
“Clearly,” Andrei fires back. He gives Selma a hug, and then Ayata, and then
gives Ayata a short but fervent kiss on the lips.
Everyone who lives or works in the Garden Dimension teleports in, having
received Onyx’s emergency message. This includes the four other members of
the original team, Arnold, Pinesong, Princess Honeypea, and their leader,
Storm. Weaver, Goswin, Eight Point Seven, and Briar show up too.
“I know this man,” Weaver says. “He’s no good. Permission to apprehend him,
Storm?”
“Granted,” Storm Avakian agrees.
Briar walks over to the prisoner, and places cuffs on his wrists. “I’ve been
where you are before. I can show you where the path to redemption begins, if
you let me.”
The prison spits in Briar’s face.
“You’ll get there,” Briar responds, calmly and confidently.
Weaver looks over at Andrei. “Report.”
“It’s a long story, could we sit somewhere?” Andrei requests.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to start interviewing the prisoner?” Ingrid
asks Weaver.
Weaver just jerks her head in Storm’s direction.
“What is your interview style?” Storm asks. “Is it more torture, or
talking?”
“Definitely talking. Torture has been proven time and time again to be
ineffective.”
“Gossy, take her to Thornbower.”
“I’d like to go too, Onyx volunteers.
Goswin smiles. “I can take two at a time just fine.” He grasps both of their
hands, and pulls them in close, but doesn’t transport just yet. “Please keep
your hands and feet in the ride at all times. There’s a reason it’s called
Thornbower. He finally jumps, and Ingrid sees that they weren’t joking
around.
They’re standing in a tunnel made out of uncomfortably short trees, arching
towards each other above. Vines have woven themselves between them all
around. They’re covered in thorns, as are the trunks and branches. The
ceiling is high enough to allow any normal-sized person to pass underneath,
but it’s still claustrophobic and unsettling. They instinctively lower their
heads, and keep an eye out for stray thorns. You cannot be too careful in
here. One small step in the wrong direction, and you’ll poke your eye out.
Ingrid looks behind them to find that the tunnel is as endless that way as
it is the other way. If this is what they use as a jail, it’s totally
fitting, and on-brand for them. There might not even be any doors or cells
here. There wouldn’t have to be if there’s only one entrance/exit.
“We’ve never had to use this before,” Onyx reveals.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Goswin notes. Only now does he let go
of Ingrid and Onyx’s hands, having been allowing them to hold on out of
fear.
“That happens,” Ingrid adds. “There’s only a first time for everything that
happens; not anything that never does.”
“In an infinite cosmos, there is no such thing as something that doesn’t
ever happen,” Goswin muses. He winks before disappearing.
Onyx shivers. “This way.”
As it turns out, the endlessness is nothing but an illusion. What appeared
to be a single straight tunnel is a windy maze of confusing and frightening
corridors and deadends. It really would be impossible to escape if you were
in a hurry. There aren’t any security cameras, and of course no guards, but
based on the sounds she could hear, the walls probably weren’t all that
thick. She even caught a few glimpses of blue through the branches,
suggesting that one could hypothetically subvert the bower altogether, if
they were brave enough, or insensitive to pain. It would still be dangerous,
though.
They round one last bend, and meet up with Briar and the prisoner. This is a
much more open area, furnished with nearly everything a prisoner needs to
live. It comes with two armchairs, a hardback chair for a desk, and a really
nice wooden bed with a queen-sized mattress. There’s no wired electricity,
but there are a few lanterns for when it gets dark. For water, there’s an
entire well, which could be a security concern, but there must be some
design choices that aren’t obvious just by looking. She’s unsure what they
might do for food.
Briar looks over at the other two. “Hold on.” He’s sitting in one of the
armchairs, opposite the prisoner, leaning forward to make it a more intimate
conversation. “I was raised by my mother on a planet which was otherwise
devoid of intelligent life. She died when I was still young, so I raised
myself the rest of the way, and I didn’t do a very good job. I killed
someone. He hit the rocks on the bottom of the cliff, and bled out...alone.
To this day, it remains the greatest regret of my life. The funny part is
that his friends went back in time and rescued him, against all odds. That’s
when I realized that I was the one on the bottom of that cliff. I was
the one who was alone. He survived because people wanted him to, and if I
had fallen instead, that would just be the end of it.”
“I’m not alone, I’m part of a team.”
“Are you? Where are they now?”
“They assume I’m dead.”
“So you are alone.”
The prisoner huffs, and turns away.
“Believe it or not, I managed to make friends too, again despite the odds,”
Briar goes on with his personal story. “But the only way I was able to do it
was to hit rock bottom first. You may think you’re there now, but I’m here
to tell you, A.F., that you can always fall farther. All
rock bottom really means...is how far you fall before you finally
decide to climb your way back up.” Briar leans towards the back of his chair
like he’s said something profound, except that’s not all he’s doing. He
lifts one leg up, braces it under A.F.’s chair, and kicks it backwards.
A.F. is sent tumbling down the well, screaming for his life...until he hits
rock bottom.
