Time was as imaginary as the character most homo sapiens prayed to when they were only talking to themselves.

That was a strong possibility when Iker whiffed the sugary scent from Bolsà Magicà's cotton candy stage match against 1 platoon's jaunter and second-in-command named Monica 'Primetime' Comsa. 1 platoon members did not wear the uniform except for the notorious general himself.

It was Monica's amendment right to strut march in a desolate file to her opponents in heels. Uniforms was for liberals probably.

Her faint scowl already looked like she wanted to ask for documents and build an alternative wall between her and the two Latino boys.

Monica can promise to finish it until she gets bored of her alternative bricks, as facts were just accessories like the ruby necklace and earrings she wore. She had the exact jet black bob cut Iker found annoying on drag queens.

Ternary code of Bastian's avatar began manifesting from his soles, meaning Iker and Monica had to stay frozen in melodramatic poses.

So Dominic captured us... and gave us over to one platoon? He's working with these nazis?

Iker felt awkward... he wanted to nap on the floor instead. He at least had time to double check his logical steps about what time could be.

One must remember that jaunters teleport, yet Monica would only be in a Bolsà Magica match if she tried to read Iker's or Bastian's mind... an esper ability. Bolsà Magicà had a different security protocol for hackers.

Iker realized that the categories of jaunter and esper may not be completely separate. Was it a lie that one could not be both?

Either there is a way to be both, or disturbingly... it could mean that when an esper tries to read or steal a memory... some or all of an 'esper' actually teleports somewhere else. Jaunts somewhere else.

Iker's or Bastian's memory... was a place?

Were the past and the present also places?

Would they be physical locations with a wildy different periodic table, with the same elements as back on Earth, or would it be made of binary code?

Did Monica's consciousness not travel through time or brain waves; but rather jaunted to the omniverse "physical" coordinates where Iker's or Bastian's memories would be? If she was jaunting instead of double dipping into the esper category, was her carbon body here or only her consciousness?

The misinformation that espers and jaunters were in separate categories was another falsehood in the information war beingkind was engaged under.

Iker did not feel so smart anymore, and the shame pressing down on him was quite alien. He would have gotten over it if he experienced it more, but his chest kept getting heavier as he had no idea how to deal with being insecure about the one thing that made him desired. Bolsà Magica freezing him in place prevented him from moving his face. It did not let him sulk about feeling like nothing.

How could he cope with losing the one thing Byza used to value him for... and what the world valued him for?

The boy lost his petty-ass arm and smirk back on Earth, almost got his friends killed, got everyone captured by 1 platoon, and he believed another lie propagated by famous supersoldiers on Memoryfeed. Bastian would agree that it was impossible for him to be wrong so many times in a row, but here he was. He desperately held on to his determination as he has to still save Camilo back on Earth, but it was wavering. He always had the answers... that's why Bastian, Camilo, and now Maverick trust him too. Or was that also incorrect?

A warm vibe emitted around the pink and blue cotton candy stage and Iker rolled his eyeballs to find Bastian's brotherly eyes.

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"Yea... I hate all the lying and shit," Bastian mumbled through the opening of his mouth. He was frozen in a flaming pose with an open hand covering his face, but he was pulling it off. "But bro, I don't trust you because you're smart. It's because you always figure out when you're wrong... eventually. Something her and the rest of 1 platoon could never do."

That made Iker feel lighter. Bolsà Magicà did not let him smile either, but at least he could also mumble.

"You're smart in your own way... and I'm not being sarcastic I swear."

"Too late-I already got easily offended by that," Bastian mumbled back sarcastically. "Okay focus."

1. Each player has five hit points while still being allowed to play if they drop to zero.

2. With each hit, the player must choose a limb they can no longer use to touch or stand on the stage. The lower the hit points, the further a damaged opponent will fly away from the stage.

3. Monica gets further access if Bastian falls off stage. For what reason does she have to be so nosy for? If Iker and Bastian knock Monica out of the stage, then despite of her white rage she'll be... trapped... in a place with a name she cant pronounce? This is an announcer application; comedy is outside of general capabilities.

Bastian and Iker glanced in Monica's direction to see why she has yet to speak, but her determined eyes already did. She had no reason to reason with those she no longer considered human. If only the sky people understood that they did not open a marketplace of ideas, but instead opened a marketplace of human extinction.

Luckily the Felix boys did not only have the jutsu or magic system of talking—which required all parties to consider that they may be the one mistaken instead of faking it—they also had Bolsà Magicà's. Iker deduced Monica would either need to learn it on the fly, or wait for InfluxGPT to arrive to her in the omniverse, which was a distance no narrator application could calculate. Iker knew she would never think that it was a Laniakean mod file in a human video game that was paralyzed by nostalgia.

That was correct children, it would be right in front of her. O, the joys of trolling and lelz.

READY

SET

GO

Monica turned around and attempted to run; a good and bad move. Indeed, as her white floral dress fluttered up fluffs of blue cotton candy, her heel popped the cushion she was standing on and she fell face forward into a lollipop made of painted stone.

When a supersoldier woman from Ember Tree City earned a moniker there was no need to wear the uniform anymore. Well, someone like Cadet Tagore would not get away with it even as a general.

When one of these supersoldiers would take off their heels before or during a fight it was a sign of respect towards their opponent. It was no different compared to how jutsu users would drop ankle weights from any high ground.

Monica had a good chance to win if she could give the fourteen year olds an inkling of respect, but she would remain heel bound as she was hopping away as soon as she got up. It seems she was trying to buy time to figure out the magic system of the reality she was in, but her disrespectful hops did not have much purchasing power.

Iker and Bastian began clapping their hands and performing solo merengue spins, a feint. Trolling. The boys knew that Monica would stereotype them and she did. Her flaring teeth and her seething glare as she appropriated the feint...

Was it because she was embarrassed?

Or was it because she was beating herself up for not figuring out the "obvious" that the only kind of magic system the "degenerates" could come up with would be based around beans or music?

During the whole time she was furiously spinning and grunting, she would not bother to glance over to find the randomized weapon assigned to her. An obelisk shard that would help her bend terrain, and it was quite OP.

While Monica was off in her own little world, Iker merged with a flower that reduced 2HP even with a brush and Bastian threw a ball that summoned a rakunk.

Evil was simple. Evil was a mind that has stopped trying to understand others, including any applications.

She immediately fell to three hit points as Iker tried to get her to smell the flowers while the rakunk tried to get her to smell... nothing? Iker glanced at a bummed Bastian with drooped shoulders.

As she flew away from the cotton candy stage towards the whimsical sky with a ridiculous moue, many more weapons already spawned.

A ball that would summon a big ass tentacle.

A dimensional crab pincer.

DETERMINATION.

A script for psychic fire.

The pendulum blade.

"That one. The one where Monica is trying to jump to," Iker commanded.

"Really? You want me to use it? It already looks like it wants to ghost me," Bastian said.

Bastian ran forward as Monica was falling towards the edge of the stage. Before she could throw her hands to catch the edge, Bastian did the honors and showed her a beautiful ass hammer.

"That be beautiful as fuck," Monica complimented insipidly.

Whether she missed the ledge because she did not know she had a second jump or because she was awestruck by the beautiful AF hammer, Bastian and Iker DNGAF because they won.

Even though they had a chance to get answers, Bastian knew they had to save Camilo ASAP.

However, as the stage rippled into ternary code, they knew once they were determined to leave it would take a handful of seconds to wake up on Earth.

And briefly, for the few seconds Iker and Bastian were back in Papà's mansion, they found a suited adult lion with a luscious mane by the hamaca.