2.9.1

When Morgan woke up the next morning, two things had changed. One: Ilia was awake. Two: Mateen had been replaced by Silpa. The first change left Morgan feeling a little relieved. The second change, though…

After a week of training, Morgan was more familiar with Mateen, and it was still weird to think about the fact that Silpa had just been chilling inside Mateen’s body this whole time. On the other hand, Silpa was pretty cool. She had taken Mateen’s swords, chopped up the metal, and shaped the material into bullets that Morgan could use. When asked why, Silpa had insisted that she could make Mateen a new set of hook swords later.

Ilia trailed behind the group. She seemed distracted, and while she had already been a quiet person before, she wasn’t talking at all now. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the hunger, or the thirst—but Morgan didn’t think that was the case, not with the guilt shining in Ilia’s eyes. It was the same guilt reflected in Morgan’s own.

Morgan swallowed. She knew what was bothering Ilia.

“Hey,” Morgan said softly, hanging back a little. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Ilia said gloomily. She kicked a pebble down the path. “I just… no, it’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something,” Morgan pressed. “Is this about what happened yesterday?”

Ilia sighed. “Yeah.”

For a second, Morgan was at a loss for words. She wasn’t good at comforting people, and while she could commiserate, she wasn’t sure that was what Ilia needed right now. In fact, maybe Morgan wasn’t what Ilia needed right now. But as Morgan gazed upon Ilia—at the deep bags under her eyes and the downtrodden slump of her shoulders—they decided to pull on what little experience they had with comfort.

What was it Jinal had said again…?

“You don’t need to say anything,” Morgan started, their voice firm. “But I’m going to say some words. And, um, maybe it’ll help. Or not.” The words fell out of Morgan’s mouth in an awkward order, and she clumsily tripped over the letters as she spoke.

“I’m not going to say it’s not your fault. You wouldn’t believe me even if I said that. But…” Morgan trailed off, her voice shaky. Her throat was dry from days without water, and her thoughts were muddled by hunger. What was she even trying to say here?

“You—you had just gotten stabbed,” Morgan continued. “And, well, Minerva and Mateen told me that it’s normal for you to lose control after dying. So, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about that.”

“I destroyed an entire ecosystem,” Ilia said flatly, her gaze downcast. “I lost control, and I put you in danger—”

“But you didn’t hurt me,” Morgan interjected.

“Because Mateen shielded you,” Ilia muttered.

“No,” Morgan said quietly. “Xe didn’t.”

“What?” Ilia looked up suddenly, like a deer in the headlights, and the air left Morgan’s lungs all at once. The way Ilia’s hickory eyes reflected the rising sun was gorgeous. A gentle breeze ruffled Ilia’s lustrous curls, sweeping them into her face, and as Ilia brushed her hair out of the way, Morgan almost forgot what they were going to say next.

“Mateen didn’t shield me,” Morgan repeated. “Xe-xe didn’t get there in time. So the fact that I’m okay? That was all you.”

“...Oh.” Ilia looked down at her hands. She tried to hide it, but Morgan could still tell that Ilia’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I still lost control, though. And all that destruction… I don’t know. It makes me feel like some kind of weird monster.”

“Losing control doesn’t—it doesn’t make you a monster,” Morgan said quickly. “It doesn’t make you a bad person. You—you can’t judge yourself based on that one moment in time.”

“I…” Ilia sighed. “I don’t know about that, but… if you say so.” Ilia looked up at Morgan once again, a shy smile on her face, and Morgan’s heart leapt in her chest. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“You’re welcome,” Morgan said weakly. They could feel their ears turning red, and as Ilia jogged to catch up with Minerva and Silpa, Morgan purposely lingered behind. Even now, they couldn’t take their eyes off of Ilia.

Okay, Morgan, calm down. This isn’t terrible. Morgan tried to force a deep breath through their system, but they could tell that the air pressure was dropping. There are worse things than falling for an immortal goddess who—oh, who the fuck am I kidding.

A few steps ahead, Silpa and Minerva exchanged knowing glances. Morgan had to repress the urge to shoot them.

~.~

“Want a cookie?” Peter held a sleeve of chocolate sandwich cookies towards Joshua with an innocent smile. Joshua took a slow, deep breath in through his nose.

“Where did you get that?” he said evenly. There was an undercurrent of anger to his words.

“Simple,” Peter said with a shrug. “I made it. You know, the same way I can materialize other items.” Joshua was struck with the sudden urge to strangle Peter. Instead, he turned towards the shorter man with a strained smile.

“You could have made food this whole time,” Joshua ground out. “And you chose not to.”

“Yep!” Peter said brightly.

Joshua let out an exasperated sigh. “Just give me a damn cookie.”

He snatched the entire packet of snack food and started to scarf it down. Facades be damned—after two days of near-constant fighting without nourishment, Joshua was famished. Jinal had been keeping the group hydrated, at least, but Joshua still felt weak in the knees. It was only this fact that kept Peter safe from Joshua’s wrath.

As if reading Joshua’s mind, Peter frowned. “It’s not like I was withholding food on purpose. Materializing food is exhausting. I was saving it as a last resort.”

“A last resort.” Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too tired to argue with Peter. Instead, he turned to Jinal and Kai.

“Can Haku make food, too?” he asked. Jinal shook her head.

“Haku can neither create nor influence living matter, and for some reason, food falls in that category,” she explained. “The food they materialize has no caloric content.”

“I see.” Joshua popped another cookie in his mouth.

As he ate, Lian’s smiling face flashed through his mind. Since the group had entered Dimension X, there hadn’t been a single shared dream, so Joshua had no real way of knowing that Lian was okay—though he doubted that the immortals would let Lian die. Still, if Lian was anywhere near as hungry as he was… Joshua finished the package of cookies with a grimace.

“The others—they have no way of getting food, then,” Joshua noted. “Would it be possible to deliver food to them? Even a pack of sandwich cookies is better than nothing.”

“Hmmm.” Jinal and Kai exchanged glances.

“We can’t teleport anything between groups,” Kai explained. “There’s a barrier that’s blocking our teleportation powers. But we are close enough to the other groups that you could fly to them if you wanted.”

“Like a messenger pigeon!” Peter chimed in. Joshua had long since learned that glaring at Peter did nothing to discourage him. He elected to ignore Peter instead.

“I don’t mind flying over,” Joshua said, even though his body was practically screaming for rest. One pack of sandwich cookies really wasn’t enough to prepare him for prolonged flight, but he would make do. “How do I know where to go?”

“One second.” Jinal held two fingers to her temple and closed her eyes. In the background, Peter started to materialize packs of snack food. After a few minutes, a column of golden light pierced the air in the distance.

“Fly towards the light,” Kai instructed. “It’ll lead you to Ven.”

Joshua nodded. “Okay.” He looked from Kai to Jinal and back again. Both of the immortals looked as worn down as he felt. Joshua didn’t know why, but something in his heart told him that this would be the last he’d be seeing of either of them for a while.

It felt wrong to not say goodbye, but Joshua couldn’t come up with the words.

Instead, he took the plastic bag of food from Peter, and with a flap of his wings, he rocketed into the air. As he made his way towards the column of golden light, flying with as much speed as he could muster, he didn’t question where this sudden burst of stamina had come from—he just kept moving. Joshua was too busy to notice the subtle green outline around his form.

In the distance, Kai’s fingers continued to glow a brilliant forest green.

~.~

When Joshua landed in front of the group, Lian almost collapsed in relief. They made the victory sound from the Pokemon series ring throughout the area as they ran over to Joshua, muscles aching.

“Food! Glorious food,” Lian moaned, leaning against Joshua. They didn’t miss how the bird man tensed at the touch, and for a second they considered leaving him be—but then he relaxed again. “What goods do you bring, oh gracious messenger?”

“A thermos of water, a bottle of mustard, and a bag of chips, apparently,” Joshua replied, rifling through the bag in his hands. “And… instant ramen?” He scowled at the cup of ramen. “What was Peter thinking? We don’t have any way to make this.”

“Can’t Haku just create boiling water?” Rae asked. The three mortals turned to look at Haku—and then Joshua almost dropped the bag of food in surprise.

Both immortals were on their knees. Ven had their hands clamped over their ears, and Haku was clutching their chest. Orange and gold flames spiraled dangerously around the two of them, decimating everything in their path. A faint electronic hum sounded through the air.

Lian immediately ran for the two immortals, food forgotten. As soon as they were within arms reach, though, a translucent golden barrier stopped them in their tracks.

“Ven!” Lian cried, pounding on the barrier with both fists. “Let me in!” The orange and golden flames around the two immortals were blindingly bright now, and despite the barrier, Lian could feel the heat.

You need to get away.

Ven’s voice was eerily calm despite the circumstances. It was a tone of voice Lian had never heard from the happy-go-lucky immortal. Ice cold panic welled up in Lian’s chest, and they pounded even harder on the barrier.

Idiot, Haku snapped. It’s dangerous for you here. Something is destabilizing us. It’s only a matter of time before—

Haku’s voice broke off abruptly as they fell forward, clutching their head in pain. The golden barrier flickered and disappeared, and a pulse of light knocked Lian backwards. As Lian regained their footing, their fingers brushed against the hole in their shirt. The skin underneath was still lightly burnt despite Ven’s attempts to heal them. If Lian tried to approach the immortals again, it was likely that they’d receive a similar injury—maybe even on a grander scale.

Lian didn’t care.

They started to move towards the immortals again, pressing forward against the waves of energy. Before they could get very far, Joshua grabbed their wrist.

“Lian, we have to go,” Joshua said, his voice laced with urgency. “If they’ve really lost control, then we need to get as far away as possible.”

“Joshua’s right,” Rae said shakily. “We need to get to the center of this hell dimension so we can get out.”

Lian took one last look at Ven and Haku, at the way the two immortals were decompensating. It was looking less and less like the immortals would be escaping Dimension X safely. Still, Joshua and Rae were right. The three mortals were running on two full days of no food and no water. There wasn’t a lot of time to waste before they started to pass out from hunger or thirst or some combination of both.

Lian felt a wave of frustration rising in their chest as they turned and ran. Joshua’s grip on their wrist was like iron—perhaps to prevent Lian from turning around. As the trio wove through the trees, the sound of feet crunching through fallen leaves echoed in the air, accompanied by that cursed electronic hum.

Haku’s voice was so quiet, so pained, that Lian almost missed it.

Don’t… worry… they gasped. You—your friends—you’ll all get out of here alive. I promise—

Haku’s voice broke off in a burst of static. Tears started to course down Lian’s face as Joshua dragged them along. They didn’t care if they got out of here alive. They didn’t care, because—

Haku, you piece of poo! The Ennead are friends too—my friends!

~.~

An ear-piercing screech resonating from all around. Nine pillars of colored light piercing the air. A blinding flash of white.

The world was ending.

~.~

Running was not among Karyme’s strengths. Dani and Juli kept a quick pace, and though Karyme was in decent shape, she wasn’t nearly as athletic as the two ex-mafia members. At the very least, Dani and Juli didn’t leave Karyme behind, and in return Karyme continued to run despite the growing ache in her side.

Tendrils of turquoise and indigo flame continued to lick at their heels as they ran. The rocky canyon had since been decimated, turned to sand, and even the sand had been obliterated after a while. Now, there was nothing left except for a wide expanse of colored fog. It was like being in the pocket dimension, really, except with colored flames bursting from the floor, consuming everything in their path.

Well… almost everything.

No matter how aggressive the flames were, they didn’t burn Karyme, Dani, and Juli. Every time the tendrils of colored fire drew close to Karyme’s skin, they suddenly reeled back, like a hand recoiling from a hot stove.

Karyme didn’t question it. She kept running.

Eventually, though, the group was forced to take a break. Even Dani and Juli couldn’t keep running after two days without food and water. Still, none of the three of them wanted to stop moving entirely—not with the world literally ending around them—so they slowed to a walk. Karyme gratefully gulped down lungfuls of air, one hand clutching her side stitch.

They walked in silence for what felt like hours.

Without the sun and the sky, it was easy to lose track of time. The silence was grating, but the three of them were too tired to speak. Karyme felt like a withered flower.

She had to admit that it was just a little strange—by all accounts, her body should not have been able to walk. She should be dead, dehydrated, desiccated, starved, empty, gone. And yet… she was still alive. By some feat of willpower, her feet continued to move. Some external force gave her the energy she needed to continue.

When the others finally came into view on the horizon, Karyme began to cry tears of joy. Everyone was there and accounted for: Peter, walking alone, happily snacking on a bag of chips; Joshua, dragging an exhausted Lian behind him, with Rae walking alongside; Morgan, carrying an unconscious Ilia on their back. No one said anything as the nine of them gathered—they didn’t have to. For a second, everyone just experienced the shared relief of being alive.

That relief was short-lived.

The sound of footsteps on glass echoed in the distance as someone approached. Karyme didn’t need to click the pop-up box in her vision to know who it was. The Necromancer had finally arrived.

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