*copyrighted material*
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Sweat came down his brow, and neck like he’d evaporated leaving just hot clouds in his place. His golden hair kept loose, already moist in his jittering, yet smelling of fresh, flowery cologne. Shuddering like an autumnal leaf, holding for dear life to its tree. But holding on was pointless. He noticed his hand visibly twitching on the armrest looking down from the press already at the scene. Their flashes stole images of him as the Cadillac limousine queued at the entrance of Yorkwich’s Ambitions Amphitheater. Calvin held his wrist with the other hand to hide the terror inside him, yet he heard one of them chuckle underneath their masks. His eyes fell upon Marion’s golden family band adorning his ring finger. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.
“You want it? Eh? You fuck face?” Slipped it off his finger and threw it at their feet. His grandmother turned to him shooting daggers. Yet did nothing when one of the five armed Visitors accompanying them—as chaperones sent by the Rootstock committee—stood up and slapped him across the face so hard, his head bounced back on the headrest. The teenager grunted and held his face that now stung badly. The drugged soldier then placed a heavy boot on his stomach and pulled him forward by the collar of his velvet, emerald tux.
“He is just a stupid kid, you know?” Marion was looking at herself in her Victorian hand mirror next to Calvin, her sleeveless scale mail copper dress glinting so delicately. Diamonds hung from her neck and ears, and her needle heels looked like they could break under anything. “You wouldn’t want to leave blood stains all over his gala suit . . . Would you?” She took out a coffin nail from the golden hand-carved cigarette case she carried in her purse and lit it swiftly with her oil flint lighter. “My grandson, Robbie—”
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“My name is Calvin. MARION.” He coughed as the Visitor let him go and took a seat again.
“No one asked sweetie, shut your mouth for once, and let nana talk to the grown-ups.” She forced a smile.
“Whatever.”
“I suspect this is the end of the road?” The old lady crossed a leg and patted off the dust from his grandson’s blazer. She regretted time and time again letting Mickey keep custody of her only heir for two very long years as she coordinated part of her spies in Nooktown to fight back Jesse Mcallister’s regimen when the revolution broke out. Marion’s place in Yorkwich wouldn’t have been safe for the child, as the Roanoke Military discovered her underground networks within the country. Jazz star Jimmie Carol, her most valuable asset, had also been a coveted one, and good ‘ol Jimmie followed the money as ants followed the trace. He’d been monkeying around for both sides, and that had cost her the chance to welcome her grandchild the moment he was finally out of that town. “Chrome is lining us all up to slaughter us like cattle for the Starmen, and their loaded piece of shit stooges . . . ” Now she was quaking in anger. “They chose to take the life of my only daughter. MY BABY! THEY ALL SAT NEXT TO ME AT HER FUNERAL! I CRIED ON THEIR SHOULDERS! THE ROTTEN BASTARDS!!”
Calvin felt as if his ribcage was a cheese grater sawing away his heart, still pounding inside his chest. His throat had gone dry. He watched Ocean, the imponent Great Dane’s raised his hackles and bark throwing spit everywhere, he was at the back of the limousine locked in a tall, metal wire crate for large blood sport mammals. Carol had been crammed into it as well in the spaces right beneath him, sniffling around with her tail between her legs, she held her fractured forefoot up in pain. He would not forget the discomposure on her face.
Marion sucked on her cigarette and blew off the smoke on the Visitors, “I WANT YOU FREAKS TO SIT ME NEXT TO THAT SON OF A BITCH, YOU HEAR ME?”
“MARION—!!”
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“SHUSH, BOY!” She snapped at her grandson. “I WANT A FRONT SEAT TO THIS FRAUDULENT CONCORD! IF I DIDN’T KNOW HIM BETTER I’D SAY HE IS KILLING MY MEN AND WOMEN ON STAGE FOR HIS SICK LITTLE MAGIC TRICK!” And Marion was not wrong. Her special, and carefully built web of musical spies, her eyes and ears in the very rooms that had gathered her wealthy and ambitious friends, was being dismantled on stage with the last performance of their lives. Calvin reached for his grandmother’s hand but she pulled it away. “MY ONLY DESCENDANT, MY ONE AND ONLY BIRTHED A COWARD THAT CAN’T TAKE HER NAME! NO MATTER HER SACRIFICE! NO MATTER MY SACRIFICE!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!”
“Marion . . .”
“I will die with my honor.” Was her final statement as they reached the red carpet of the amphitheater, her door was unlocked and opened for her by the driver. The flickers of her dress blinded him as they reflected on the commotion outside. Ocean was taken out of the cage, leashed, and given to her as she put on her best poker face.
As she strolled away from the Cadillac, the teenager received a punch to the guts before being pushed out of the car with Carol beside him. He wheezed in place, then looked down at his everyday companion completely baffled, she looked back at him with a wretched look in her eyes. Now he remembered he was standing here because the organic order had conspired to keep him alive, he was still the boy who’d trained a wild fox because he knew he was full of weakness, a wimp. Saved by Wyatt, Edna, Yuudai, Woodbone, Nelson, Carol, Cobra, Ráfi, Mickey, then Felicity, who’d encourage him to find the equation he needed to put G.E.D—Galileo Ecto Domination—in motion again, and with her help, succeeded. Marion was making him remember his truth. His grandmother who’d spent her life planning revenge for his mother’s assassination with the help of the Old Regan Bride. Waiting patiently for the moment to arrive as she took a ride in Wyatt’s taxi again, and again, knowing who he was. Drowned in dolefulness for the child she wanted to meet so badly.
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The teenager eased the collar on Carol’s neck feeling stupid, her leg was broken, and he had let this happen. The defeat of the Rootstocks. He needed to do better and start somewhere, so he rubbed the fox’s head. Whispering, promising he’d get her help when this was over, hoping there was a day after this one. He followed Marion to the top of the stairs, both meticulously observed by their captors on their every move. The venue was filled with the likes of them on every corner, citizens watched them in crowds, and he’d seen them fill the streets for the past five blocks as well. They murmured between bedazzles, looking at Carol limp by his side.
Marion looked over her shoulder. Made brief, icy eye contact with him before being taken to Chrome as she had wished. He lost all trace of her when more guards followed after her and into the huge marble doors. When it was his turn to get to the top, he saw the halls full, yet recognized none of the guests. He began to panic, but swallowed his affliction, and told himself he needed to find Felicity.
The vestibule was congested, made of towering gloss white, painted plaster walls and columns, the floors covered in navy blue velvet that preceded its black wood shapely staircases and balconies with latticework. Calvin picked up his fox and carried her through the halls, a Visitor purposely bumped into him almost making him drop her. He looked back, upset, and noticed more of them dotted around the place, observing him. He soon remembered the abterra beehouse the Starmen had planted in their minds, withering their appearance to the point of looking like desiccated tomcats. They knew what had transpired at his grandmother’s estate and then inside the limousine on their way here. He looked down at his feet to find the very same golden family band he’d thrown at the Visitors back in the Cadillac. He heard himself wheeze, wondering if he should leave it there. But a figure towering over him bent to pick it up before he could make up his mind.
“Don’t overthink it too much.” Wyatt breathed. This was the first time he saw him after the day he’d heard him and Marion discuss flagrantly in regards to him being Robbie Sismore, the
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legitimate heir of the Sismores, a secret kept by the Rootstocks so well. He’d heard how his older brother knew they both had been stolen from two separated families by their ‘parents’. Thus Wyatt’s indisputable uninterest in finding Andrew and Harriet Elsner. He wore a black tuxedo that seemed too tight for his big frame. White hair combed back, and crisp cut. Deep aging lines on his forehead. Krishanu, his bond brother, bowed down softly at the boy as a salute. People walked past him, seemingly afraid of his looks.
“I—I won’t, I . . . ”
“I should have told you about mom and dad the moment we boarded that bus to never see them again.” He cut him off with a deep voice. The raspiness was now gone to be replaced by that of a beast’s voice. “Instead, I ran away on my own years later, feeling like I had nothing to lose. But that was not true, you were everything I had.” He put the ring inside Calvin’s tux pocket and pulled him off his feet to embrace him. Carol hoofed in his arms, sandwiched between them. “Please forgive me.”
“H—hey, that’s—yes! Y—yes I forgive you.” The teenager chuckled between sobs as he was placed back on the floor. “I . . . I need to apologize to you too. I’ve been of little help, I’ve let others do what all along has been my duty. Because it was me who made the decision!” Calvin looked down at his fox and showed him her broken leg. “This war . . . the three of us are here because of me. And . . . what you are becoming before my eyes . . . ” He choked.
“Calvin . . . ”
“Marion has made me see the light, Wyatt . . . for the better.” He placed Carol in his older brother’s arms. “Remember the first time you held her?”
“What are you doing?”
“This peace treaty is not what it is, we all know it. I’ll have to strike a deal with Chrome, I’ll take the stage before anyone else does.” He sighed, “I can’t bring her with me.”
“This is not something you have to do!” Wyatt protested. “It’s not written anywhere.”
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“Isn’t that the point? That this event gets to be written with a different outcome. Tell me you’ll be there to back me up. I need you.”
“With you on stage, I don’t know if I’ll be fast enough, frankly.”
“But you will try . . . ?” Calvin began to walk away. “I need to find Felicity backstage before the showdown. I’m telling Chrome where we keep Galileo Ecto Domination if he spares our lives.”
“Krishanu, tell him he is out of his damn skull!” But he did nothing but follow the teenager with his eyes until he was out of view.
The phantom finally spoke, “Years ago, I made an oath to this boy . . . That’d bring his older brother back, and safe from within Fort Yggdrasill. My plan was true, not perfect or should I say, not successful at all.” Krishanu then turned around, and stared intensely at the draped entrance, crowding rapidly with people looking for their seats. “Wyatt, my loyalty to you is quite frail. My purpose is still to listen to the needs of the Cosmos. Do not take anything personally, but Calvin has a much harder duty than you and us combined. Ráfi said so very clearly.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” There were notes of surging anger and confusion in Wyatt’s voice. He questioned, yet got no response. Returning a vacant look was all the phantom did.
Mickey came into the halls and spotted the hulking man who made everyone look like a sea of shrunken people. Her gala garments consisted of a one-shoulder pastel pink dress with a feathered headdress and short white gloves. She tugged from his sleeve upon a short distance. He flinched and stammered under her touch. And then Carol whined in his arms. By the time he looked back where Krishanu was, he had already vanished.
“Wyatt? What’s the matter?” She frowned, visibly distressed. “Have you seen Rolf? He was supposed to be here before I did.”
“I—I have not.” He choked.
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She took off one of her gloves to wipe a tear from her face. “I . . . I should assume the worst, shouldn’t I?”
“Mickey . . . I’m so sorry, and I don’t want to alarm you even more, but . . . Calvin will try to negotiate with Chrome on stage, and I . . . I’m not very sure if I’ll have Krishanu’s support whatever transpires.”
She nodded, looking at the carpet. Fidgeting with the fabric in her hands. “Be honest, how did I do?”
“You almost took us to glory.”
She forced a smile. “That’s what my father would have loved to hear.”
Wyatt felt compassion for her and squeezed her small hand a little too roughly. “Calm down, I’ll look around and see if I can find him.” He sighed, “He didn’t leave you at the cave of the wolves . . . Okay?”
“The committee saw me unfit to—”
“Fuck them.”
“I thought you and I had our differences . . .”
“You gave my brother a roof when I couldn’t.” He chucked, “I should point out, a very expensive one I would have never been able to afford.”
Mickey breathed deeply, “I was told not to tell this to anyone but . . .” She blinked at him several times, “From all the events Kurt and my father wrote about in those letters, that Yuudai brought to Marion, and me . . . that later on were shown to Old Regan Bride and then burnt . . . This is the only event Rolf and I cannot remember how it culminates . . .”
“But what if Marion—”
“I didn’t have the guts to ask her if she did.”
Wyatt sensed her urgency, as people began to empty the hallways to fill the amphitheater. He placed Carol in her hands. “Mickey, I’ll bring him back to you. I promise. Go to your seat.”
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She saw him shoulder his way against a dozen people facing her way, giggling and chit-chatting as they headed to the stalls. Mickey turned around with them as she stroked Carol’s head. Unaware of her injury.
Dr. Mickey Mulhouse and her husband Rolf Mcallister had the privilege to read carefully through several pages of typewritten letters in which her father presented a series of events that Kurt had witnessed as a time jumper many times. But she couldn’t comprehend the sudden memory loss. Her father, however, had mentioned these events could present dissimilations beyond what Kurt had described to him, as his partner had visited multiple universes with the same date and time, and not one had been identical. Each universe was its own aircraft, not one trip was the same as the other, no matter if it was heading in the same direction. It was unequivocal to her that Rolf and she were suffering a condition from the coming event. But how did she remember the next events on the list, in which her husband and she were supposedly gonna be physically present as well? She did not know.
The former head of the Rootstocks had received the courtesy to have a seat on the front row with her spouse thanks to the committee if that was something she could brag about. Mickey walked to the stalls, being one of the last invitees to do so. She found her place and two other spots empty next to her. One, she knew, belonged to Rolf, the other she inquired about it, placing Carol on a seat, and watching her whimper.
“Carol . . . ?” She crouched to inspect the fox but someone at the orchestra below her rang some notes startling her for a moment. She straightened up, and her eyes wandered to the balconies above her. Maximilian Chrome was looking down at her with a loose smile on his lips from his own seat. His pale skin almost made him look pearly, with cold blue eyes, copper-toned hair, and facial hair, balding at the crown, wearing a silver suit with black shoes and a bow tie. Both hands were on his cane. His body, twitching as usual, as the leader of the Starmen—a being that stood higher in the hierarchy of attendants of the Cosmos in her
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kingdom of free will—a sounded traitor that carried so much power, a human body could hardly contain it.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jesse Mcallister have a place next to him. His first public appearance since Fort Yggdrasill. Next, she saw Marion walk in and plop at Chrome’s left, guarded by several Visitors. Mickey sat down beside Carol looking at the extra vacant space, caressing her. The world swirled in her mind, knowing that one was to be for the old lady perched above her now. The Rootstocks committee filled the gallery below them one by one, staring in the comfortable shadows—all six of them—as they bore no face in any of their plans. Supposedly, anonymity was their greatest weapon against the government, a secret Mickey herself had not divulged as leader even in this situation. Frankly to her, it did not matter, having sold the Rootstocks to the Starmen seeing the face of their defeat, and the star that claimed their treason. They had without a doubt done so themselves to secure their survival. What she could not shake out of her head was Jesse Mcallister’s presence when his ‘turncoat’ cousin—as he had called Rolf in family meetings many times—was nowhere to be seen.
As the amphitheater’s light and sound team prepared for the show, Cobra Killgore made his way backstage in his perfectly pressed suit. He followed the cluttered passages that looked washed up in contrast to the rest of the building, leading to obscure chambers and more corridors behind the big curtain. He was looking for the dressing rooms and saw no objection from any of the Visitors he found on his way there, as Marion said it would happen. He was meant to find agent Tina Irving, the voice of the Boogie Sharks, and he did so at the top of the squeakiest flight of wooden stairs that came across a sizable room with yellow lights and smelling funny with old stage props all over.
Tina gave him a firm nod, and with a bit of a tug, grabbed him by the lapel of his tuxedo in an accelerated manner. Tense, yet beautiful, wearing a jade pleated silk dress with a loose
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cape. Her sooty skin with gleaming on her shoulders and cheekbones. Marcelled hair that smelled of fruits.
“How many times have you time jumped into the present?”
“None, but I’m trained for this. Jump in, legs hugged against the chest, hands on the back of the neck to prevent fractures, elbows forward. You?”
“A couple, but never alone.” She stopped in her tracks, and said, “I’ll let you know, it gets weird after the first few . . . ” She quickly switched to talking under her breath as she noticed a couple of performers walk in. Cobra listened thoughtfully. Soon, they were gone again.
“Is that so? I’ll watch out then.” Was his answer.
Finally, Tina asked him to help her push a large wooden board out of the way. There was a small entrance to an alcove covered by dusty drapes. She peeked inside and stopped dead at the sight of a small figure made out of translucent energy inside. Its face was full of eyes and had no features. Beside this radiant child was the warp Edna and Sissel had opened for Cobra on Marion’s command. She could simply not get used to these sorts of things, whether this creature was Calvin or not. Young or old.
“Where are the guns?” He inquired, adrenaline building up in him already.
“Y—yes the guns . . . ” Tina looked at the child with a stern look. The figure giggled and took a rifle and a large-mouthed luger gun out of thin air.
“Is that you, laughing back there?”
“Just remembered a joke!” She chirped, grabbing the guns and seeing the creature disappear. “Go ahead.” Tina passed him the equipment and stepped back for him to go in and secure the mission in time with Bixbee, Marut, and Archie.
Cobra chuckled and entered the alcove. “Why is it so hard to fill in for the British about important things? We’d be of better help knowing whatever mess Roanoke and America are fighting each other for. My predecessor is dead, and you don’t have the decency?”
“M—my apologies. Sir.”
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“It’s alright, soldier. But I’ll have to know who your connections are back home. It’s best if the Rootstocks have a good excuse for this.” He adjusted the weapons to his body. Without another word, he launched himself into the warp.
UPDATE STARTS HERE————————————–
“Crap. Crap. Crap!” Tina slapped a palm on her forehead, cursing under her breath. Calvin walked right in from the same corridor Cobra had access backstage, and upon noticing, the spy turned her back to him to regain her composure.
“Tina? Have you seen Felicity?” He came in whispering.
The singer scowled back at him. “Frankly, I don’t think she’d be interested to see you after you backstabbed her like that. You promised her, her name in that patent alongside yours.”
“There was so much that was expected from me in that smothering, . . . Teensy-weensy sized room. I panicked, it was wrong. I know I’m worthless!” Calvin took both of her hands. “You need to help me get her back! The only reason why I’m in the spotlight now is that she figured out the equation with her knowledge of vibration theory.”
“’Get her back?’ You say?”
“Geez, T—tina, you make it sound wrong.” His face was turning brick red.
“Listen. Kiddo.” Just then he noticed the needle blades that sprouted from her fingertip rings. “We are talking about MY friend here. If you want MY help you will pass ALL of her reliance tests with flying colors.”
“Fair deal.” He fixed his shirt and nodded with determination. “I’ll prove to you all this spectacle hasn’t gotten into my head.”
“Then go forth. You’ll find her by the piano, as always.” She sighed as he walked past her. “Calvin . . . ?”
“Hmm?” He stopped himself to look back.
“I know I speak for all of us . . . We want you back. Felicity still thinks about the clueless birthday boy she wanted to meet, and snuck into his birthday party last year.”
“Huh!? She did, what?!”
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“She wanted to tell you!” Tina crossed her arms, “She was rehearsing at the same hotel with her class, our band was there too. And she—”
“SHE TOOK THE NIGHT OFF, DIDN’T SHE?!”
“You know how she is.” Her lips curled into a nostalgic smile, then it was gone in another sigh, “She talked to you at that party, and you never remembered about it.”
“I was . . . not in my five senses.” Nothing she could have said or done, nor the look of pity on her face could have erased the shame and guilt. He thought nothing of himself but a disgustingly rich and barbarically stupid child. Calvin stammered to find the right thing to say, but it was then the sounds of cheering, applause, and the voice of the host through the Electro-Voice 650 microphone that alerted them both. The event was about to begin.
“We don’t have much time! I need to find her before the bloodbath starts!” The teenager left the singer on the spot.
“Calvin . . .” Tina watched him go, praying the future would stay the same. From the corner of her eye, she saw the radiant child take a step next to her and stare too as the teenager ran off. Then slowly, reached out for her dress which he wrapped with his small, heat-emanating, and suddenly orange-furred feelers. The eyes around his luminous body were dilated. The spy twitched and held herself in place as she now could see through the walls, everything devoid of sound and colors. The creature put a claw over his lips to then poke its own eyes in an attempt to communicate something to her. Then, one by one, he pointed to at least ten Visitors guarding the halls that only through him was she able to perceive these men’s bodies were being absorbed by translucent energy, slowly but surely they began to sprout orange eyes all over them beneath their suits.
Suddenly, the floor gently circumducted below her feet until she was facing the audience and the host five feet above them, steadily suspended since mostly all objects were invisible inside this space. As the entertainer cracked some jokes on stage during the event’s
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introduction, Tina saw one last figure enter the theater limping before the radiant child was gone, and his vision vanished too. It was Randall Haagensen.
Woodbone wore his long mane in a braid, the wisps on his crown brushed to one side. A black suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie. He found Mickey in the front row and touched her shoulder with utmost care before taking a seat next to her. He stretched an arm behind her seat to pet Carol from where he was. Nails, hands, and cuffs like he’d just dug a hole somewhere finding new undergrowths for his studies. He’d clearly tried to clean his hands on his blazer too.
“I’m here for you, dolly . . . ” He huffed. Looking a tidbit worn out, he dried his sweaty face with a sleeve. “Oh, don’t you cry now.” He said, looking at her tears. She kicked her shoes off and curled her legs on the seat to reach out for a hug. The child he’d met so many years ago was still there. Had her father only lived a quieter life things would have been different. Her silent tears did not end there, despite the bubbly personality of the presenter, and rested her head on his shoulder as the monologue carried on.
Concurrently, Felicity sat hunched on her piano bench backstage with the shadow of death cast on her face, a thin finger hovering over the keys of her grand instrument. Dressed in a silver sleeveless frock, and silver pointy heels, her ginger hair in a messy double bun. The uproars of the audience brought her overturns to an empty stomach. There had been no sustenance during their incarceration by the Visitors since their arrest. Norway was the place to be, she realized. She came to think about her parents, and the last time she’d heard them on the telephone begging her to come back home. They had applauded her talent from an early age, sometimes their eagerness was shown to be quite the command perhaps, but they loved her. Her time—was still—strictly measured.
Upon reaching adolescence she saw fit to manage time as whatever she wanted it to be. Parents of her fellow classmates had called her the rotten apple of the music academy as she had promoted their rebellion, skipping class with her friends even when rehearsing abroad.
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Felicity became such a headache it was asked of the principal several times she faced suspension and the possibility of being expelled as well when that didn’t stop her. But there was no use as the Norwegian Directorate for Education stopped every single one of their attempts to force her to abandon her scholarship. The rebellion had not damaged any of her senses or skills, and thus she had passed every test, every attempt from those adults to put the young prodigy’s abilities to question had failed. She didn’t let them have it, so they isolated her from the rest of the class. Like she felt right now. She blinked a tear with bitterness as Calvin took a seat beside her, closed fists on his kneecaps.
“Felicity . . .” He breathed her name, losing all courage just to the sound of it coming from his mouth. “I came here to apologize for the way I’ve failed you. I’m the weaker of the two of us. I—”
“The weaker of the two of us?! So that’s it? This is you? This is who you really are?” She frowned, looking at the piano keys intensely. “A traitor?”
Krishanu—who was watching them silently from behind—quivered in wrath as he swirled three, unfelt fingers over the back of Calvin’s head several times. North to South. Thumb, forefinger, and middle finger. Then, vanished.
“N—no! That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I . . . Let me speak to the Pegasus Emporium scholars, this can certainly be fixed, your name will be there in the scripts too, I promise!”
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“H—how . . .” Felicity began. “How can you not see that’s not what I want?”
There was silence. “Tina told me you sneaked into my birthday party . . . I . . . I was so drunk, Felicity.”
“I know . . .” She whimpered softly. “I saw Wyatt almost throw you off the balcony after an argument near the bar.”
“That, I remember. Very terrifying. I’m a little shit when I drink.” He chuckled, wrapping her left hand around his two palms, fingers intertwined as they rested on his leg. Then leaned to kiss her forehead, and she could not believe it. “I know this is the worst moment to say this. Our lives are at the edge. But please, if we survive. Would you—”
Calvin was suddenly interrupted by the sound made by a large, shadowy thing falling from the fly tower followed by no sound of it hitting the floor. Instead, the sound of a tense string to the point of stretching took its place. The teenager turned his head then looked up and released a faint gasp.
“Oh, my God!” Felicity covered her mouth.
The teenagers rushed towards the scene and watched in horror as the curtains of the theater flung open lazily to reveal to the audience the public hanging of Rolf Mcallister, both of them beneath Rolf for the big unveiling. His body swayed above the observers, too high to reach the rope or prop his feet with any object. The instant was eternal for Mickey, and it brought gasps
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and screams in the crowded room. The aisles began to spill with people as they attempted to vacate the theater. Mickey stood up and immediately hunched her back in pain, a tight hand on the armrest of her seat. Eyes fixed on her husband, eyes closed, a bruised face and a bloodied head. Chrome laughed as tears ran down her cheeks. Carol howled, dragging her body off the comfortable stall while Woodbone held the now widow by his side, knowing fully well where this all would lead.
“AH! THE FALL OF GOOD MEN HAS BEGUN! LONG LIVE THE GRIP OF MODERN MEN! OUR CREATION!” He boasted aloud. “THE STARMEN WILL NOT YIELD TO ANY GODDESSES OR GODS, THE STARMEN WILL NOT SERVE ANYONE TO PROTECT OR WATCH OVER THE LIKES OF ANTS! THE WORD ‘ANTS’ IS TOO KIND, IN FACT! SCROUNGERS! THIS IS WHAT MEN ARE!” Chrome’s mouth was foaming, “SERVERS HAVE NO KINGDOM OF THEIR OWN! YOUR HEROES HAVE BEGUN TO FALL TO OUR JUSTICE TONIGHT, CALVIN!”
“WAIT!” Calvin pleaded. Felicity reached for his hand trembling in pure panic. “MERCY! MERCY! NOT LIKE THIS, CHROME, LISTEN TO ME! I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW! JUST LET US ALL GO!”
“FOOLISH BOY, I HAVE NO USE FOR ANYTHING YOU MIGHT THINK YOU KNOW!!” The leader of the Starmen rose from his seat to place a foot on the guardrail before him.
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“YOUR FRIEND, ROLF, BLEW THE GAFF!” At this, Jesse Mcallister also rose from his seat, put his hands in his pockets, and winked at the boy knowingly.
“You piece of worthless dog waste!” Marion roared and kicked him at the back of his leg with her heel from where she sat. Jesse winced in pain, his body slamming against the railing and almost falling off the balcony. He turned around enraged, about to slap the old woman with the back of his hand. His boss, however, took down all of his motivations to do that with a brief, cold stare before resuming his conversation with Calvin.
“I KNOW GALILEO ECTO DOMINATION IS AT THE EMPORIUM AND AS WE SPEAK, THE COSMOS IS CHANGING IN OUR FAVOR!”
“WHA—WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”
Maximilian Chrome looked at him dead in the eye, all ecstasy and energy gone from his voice. “I’M SPLITTING THIS UNIVERSE IN SIX EQUAL PARTS TO BUILD OUR OWN DOMAIN. THE STARMEN’S PARADISE.”
Calvin looked back at Felicity wholly pallid. Then more so apologetically at Mickey as he felt control slip away from his hands quickly if he’d ever held some at all. Woodbone’s turquoise antlers came to view as Ægir crafted a weapon and gear out of the ordinary moisture in the air. A hulking ax, a shield, a Lamellar armor and helmet for the old man, as well as his watery foot replacement. He jumped on stage with the agility of a wild animal, blocking an instant hit with
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his guard. The eerie-looking attacker had come flying from the theater’s exit at full speed, actually running over the fleeing audience to bounce on his shield and back towards the stalls. The rest of these same Starmen’s minions poured in like an enraged swarm of disfigured, big-bellied, chalk-colored angels with star-shaped horns wielding spears. Knocking around and spearing everyone that got in their way. The enemies piled up over Randall in a suffocating, collective strike merging with each other like bright goo over him.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO CALVIN!?” Wyatt roared, having found his phantom partner up on the quiet halls of the last balcony, and failing to get his hands on his translucent frame. Specifically, he wanted a tight grasp at his skeletal windpipe, yet had fixed a hole in the wall instead. He’d been looking for the ghost and caught him in the act of treason without witnessing it himself. His heart had known since the very first moment Krishanu’s fingers had entered contact with his younger brother’s DNA.
Krishanu stepped aside and shrugged, “Simply, saving my equidistant self.”
“DON’T TALK TO ME IN VAGUE SENTENCES!! SPEAK, YOU BASTARD!!! DID YOU SELL ALL OF US!?”
“A Defender might be a multidimensional being but different from the rest of Defenders of Shine, Marut and I didn’t RENOUNCE DIVINITY to become fallen angels of the Cosmos. The tale says so, but my twin sister and I were destined for greater things . . . alive. If I’m being
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honest, I don’t think the Cosmos quite liked me and MY POTENTIAL. I WAS STRUCK DOWN BEFORE I COULD SOAR!!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Wyatt hissed, “All this time you’ve been putting yourself in a moral high ground. The chosen of the Cosmos, the receiver of her epistle who’s been masterminding the fall down of Roanoke! My brother and I stayed in this withering land because of YOU!!” He shook his head, “Marut stood patiently by my side while I died, while YOU PICKED ME TO BECOME THIS MONSTER I AM NOW! YOUR TOOL!!”
“It wasn’t ME who picked you, Wyatt, all along it was YOU, the ANOMALY. YOU have bedeviled this universe because you SHOULDN’T be here in this universe, to begin with, and it wasn’t ME who picked The Grip of Modern Men for myself. Demons choose people of my kind, I fear.”
“W—what am I? What do you mean?” He quaked in anger, “WHAT HAVE YOU BEING DOING ALL THIS TIME?”
“You want to know who you are? A child that was born elsewhere but here. The only universe where you should have existed. But you were brought here, your presence created more equidistant universes stemming from this one as you grew, when your original universe had been barren by the Starmen to kill the Cosmos for good. Now this one must be destroyed to stop
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the growth your existence here has created. What I’ve been doing is called counterinsurgency . . . Don’t you think so?” However, Krishanu’s words didn’t have the effect he wanted.
“You saw yourself die, didn’t you?” Wyatt loosened his bow tie with a quick tug against his muscular neck and then ripped off his cufflinks like they were junk. “I’m the half that you needed all along! Not because I was special, you just wanted to make sure my sorry ass wouldn’t get in your way! I’m starting to believe this means I can stop you MYSELF!”
“I’m surprised that you keep underestimating me when I can run backward, I’ve witnessed a lot don’t you think? Much of what could potentially rewind to your demise. Nonetheless, I’ve waited for this moment to come.” The back of Krishanu’s skull began to grow upwards, like the head of a cuttlefish yet engulfed in gray flames. His legs and femur took the shape of the front of a skeleton horse, no rear end, his spine instead grew and curled up like the tail of a scorpion. Arms stretching forward. “You do realize killing a multidimensional being could take an eternity to a mere mortal soul?”
“Well, I have a lot of time to figure it out!”
“Hmmm.” Shadow embers began to grow beneath Krishanu’s new form. “You hold too much valuable information I’d rather keep in my darkest corner . . . This will have to be a private battle . . .” A sphere of darkness swallowed both of them whole and from it immediately came a re-creation of Wyatt under the phantom’s control. Only after defeating Krishanu inside his own
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voided self would this version of himself vanish. The replica left the hall with quietude, yet with a little bit of playfulness as he went down the stairs to the theater. The blackhole shrank to non-existence seconds later, and Calvin’s wandering radiant child came out of his hiding place walking out of a wall to watch him descend inattentively.
Woodbone, powered by Ægir’s dousing magic, created needles that easily penetrated the cluster of stifling opponents surrounding him. The needles splashed loosely onto the floor of the stage as the enemies flinched and backed away, taking their original form. He swung his ax at them in circles, which seemed clumsy at first as this swarm crashed their wobbly bodies against him. His movements were actually masterful despite the amount of enemies. A storm that tossed them to the walls with such force they were left lifeless all over the theater floor.
Chrome and his disillusioned self-pride had him remove his jacket, shirt, and shoes. Leaving him with his silver, formal trousers. His body was buff but sickling looking, veins traced all through his body in tones of blue and red. Marion and Jesse Mcalllister sat petrified while the fiber of time and space started to move around Chrome the way heat hit a paved road, they watched him jump from the balcony onto the stage. The floor melted beneath his bare feet in spirals that began to move like quicksand. Calvin pulled Felicity close and behind his back, as more spirals spawned around their feet.
His actions had the wretched soul cackle. “Oh, are you a hero now, boy?”
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“Save the jokes for another day, Chrome.” Krishanu, came in from around the stage in Wyatt’s skin. “The battle is won, just take the kid and send him off.”
“Wyatt? What are y—” Calvin was sweating cold.
“S—send him where?” Felicity’s grasp on his shoulder tightened.
“TO BE ONE OF US! YOU STUPID CHILD!”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY, SCUM!!” Woodbone roared.
“That’s what WE were thinking . . .” Krishanu stepped forward, ready for a quick job, two versus one. More minions came in from the hallways to surround Woodbone and Ægir in an even tighter space.
Calvin’s eyes desperately searched for Mickey and Carol in the room, he knew she wasn’t running away from this. She was standing in a corner, Carol in her arms licking her face, now aware the pet fox was badly injured. Mickey’s puffy eyes were still fixed on her husband’s corpse dangling from the roof, seemingly unaware of anything else but him. He felt unending dread as he watched a shining, small figure appear by her side, not knowing what that creature was. The radiant child tried tugging her dress but it went right through his fingers, just as Carol’s moving tail went right through him in a soft swing.
Chrome opened a rupture above Randall’s head, and said, “We are sending you back to bed, old man.”
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Marion, who wore an amplifying audio receptor in her necklace full of diamonds, gave Edna and Sissel the sign—a strong cough—to redirect Chrome’s freshly opened rupture to Ulf’s Dam, just above the parapet from where Cobra had exited the theater building.
Immediately, the rupture released water as if a massive water conduit had broken through the ceiling. Waves started to crash on the walls of the theater as it began to flood the place, everyone except Woodbone lost their footing against the whipping waters. Calvin and Felicity grabbed onto the theater curtain for dear life as the Renou veteran engaged in battle against Chrome, Krishanu, and their minions—some of them entering the new rupture in an attempt to get to the source of the leak and drowning in the process.
Randall and Ægir made the waters dance to their favor and every drop of water had been carefully contrived and arranged as pieces to form a hurricane and several whirlpools that got the minions out of his way. Chrome came in with an air-crushing fist that broke the old man’s shield with one single hit but that didn’t seem to worry him much, taking the opportunity to spin and use the ax with both of his hands, sending him backward, and destroying part of the stage’s floor. The more water came in, the more powerful Randall was becoming. Krishanu was aware that the once-known Defender knew his element was no match, and besides Ægir was a contender to be feared even before this advantage. So Krishanu began bouncing from wall to wall, his whole arms and legs ignited. The flames-covered limbs were not enough to cause a fire
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beneath the hurricane but the ghost was after a unique window to change the course of the battle. Woodbone couldn’t take the eyes off him even with Chrome using great speed to get close enough and throw a kick or a punch, then speed up again, splashing water everywhere and bending reality, yet he wouldn’t risk opening a new rupture with his corpse. The ability consumed the important brain matter known as gray matter. Senator Maximillian Chrome—the human, not possessed by the Starmen—had preserved the secret of his ability to open ruptures as a mere mortal until his political adversaries found out about it and unanimously took it as a threat. Maximillian had taught himself to heal his brain through meditation. Something he couldn’t replicate as a corpse, and was slowly taking him to madness.
Calvin observed the battle closely, even as a team Chrome and Krishanu didn’t have the reach and potency Woodbone and Ægir had achieved so easily. In despair, he understood Krishanu had overpowered his brother permanently. He was about to fall into hysteria and Felicity could sense it to which she grabbed his wrist, yet in perfect synchrony with a small, radiant hand went right through the theater curtain and touched Calvin’s earlobe. In the blink of an eye, both teenagers took a journey to the other side of the Cosmos.
UPDATE STARTS HERE ———————————–
Air pushed them in and out as their surroundings settled and changed into different locations, suspended in the air until they were sent straight to the floor on their sit bones in splashes of crystalline water. A blue sky but no clouds or sun hung above them.
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Below that lovely sky there was only sand and ankle-deep water. No ocean. Felicity and Calvin looked at each other with perplexity. “What just happened?! Where did everyone go!?” She stood up and helped him to his feet, dress wet and bun undone. With no sight of her shoes, her feet dug into the sand and cold water.
“Did we all die? What in the world is this place? Calvin looked around. “I feel strange, don’t you?”
“Like . . . A familiarity to it?” She blinked, “Have we been here before?”
“But how?” He looked down at his feet to see his shoes and socks gone too. His shoulders loosened, “I don’t know what’s going on but I feel like now that I’m here, I wouldn’t like to be anywhere else in my entire life.” He said as his eyes wandered all over her wet dress revealing part of her chest. The young man took off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to her from a distance, looking he looked away with a grin.
Felicity turned bright red and covered herself, “V—very funny! Now quit it!! I bet this place isn’t even real, you know? Sucky place!”
“This place is real, Ms. Fornes.” A bald, gray-skinned man showed up behind them, he wore an ocher-colored tunic and a dozen golden chains around his long and muscular neck. “Pardon my intromission, young ones, I’m here to show you around. Welcome to Out-Of-The-Way.”
“What a bizarre name!” Felicity complained arms crossed over her chest as she tried kicking the heavy, wet sand for better delivery.
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“How did we even get here, though?” Calvin looked up at the wild blue yonder, gorgeous but he felt something was off about it.
“Sir, it is you who brought yourself here.” The man said with a soft smile, placing his hand on the head of the radiant child, who sought shelter behind him as he peeked at the teenagers.
“H—how is that me?”
“I think it’s time we have that conversation again, follow me, young ones . . .”
“Again?” Felicity said baffled, looking back at Calvin. Both of them saw the gray-skinned man hold the child’s hand as he began to lead the way.
Borakai was the name of their guide, and also the assigned guardian of Out-Of-The-Way. The place was vast but seemingly vacant to any creature besides him and the patrons he served—an old, happy couple. Cronozeus was one of them, the master and creator of Out-Of-The-Way and creator of Borakai himself to have him protect this sacred space for him, as well as to perform as a host in the case of visitors. Hastia, was his wife. The gray creature did not elaborate further about her.
Cronozeus shared this place with his brothers and their wives although running into any of them would be impossible as he had sectioned the place metaphysically as his powers permitted. The radiant child was—what Borakai—described as a ‘singular’ guest to this place. One of Calvin’s many lives, belonging to a universe from which he had been extracted at a very young age and taken to Out-Of-The-Way at Cronozeus’s orders. This version of Calvin had
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then been taken to a creature called Drastasara, who had bestowed powers on the small boy making him choose a SINGLE ONE out of his many collections of charming eyes. The radiant child had the powers of good luck and the healing of physical ailments of those the universe let him touch. When asked about why this infant version had been picked to receive these powers, the gray man simply answered. “My master knows you better than you know yourself.”
That answer was insufficient and offensively odd to Calvin, who cocked an eyebrow at the guardian, he was ready to shoot more questions but Felicity’s loud gasp ended with his single-mindedness.
“OH! LOOK AT THAT!” She had just noticed they had been led towards a differently-colored strip of sand that extended ahead into the distance, it was quite confusing how they had not noticed the bright pink tones in the sand before this moment.
The teens hesitated to continue the journey. But Borakai gazed at them with a soft smile while the radiant child splashed water as he forward rolled all over the place unharmed.
“Where does this path lead?” Calvin asked.
“To the perfect eternity,” Borakai said.
Felicity walked past the defined line holding her breath, she then blinked a few times turned back around, and scratched her head seeing no difference regardless. “I don’t get it!” But Calvin flinched at the sight of his friend turning into a fully grown woman right before his eyes.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .