Treeside is surprisingly quiet, which is good because I have to spend the entire day recovering from the biggest molt of my lifetime, a very normal statement that I'm sure lots of people have made. Valerie spends a long time drawing a beautiful picture of some kind of lizard woman (with big boobs, obviously) vanishing into the background, her body seamlessly taking on the colors of her environment bit by bit until the lower parts of her body aren't even visible anymore. It's an intricately detailed piece, the forest in the background getting just as much love and attention as the featured character, and after completing it Valerie spends a long time just… staring at it. Admiring it. A sad smile graces her face the whole time, pride at her accomplishment warring with the knowledge of what she needs to do with it.

Then she casts her spell and the image burns to nothing, blue flames consuming hours of effort in an instant. Sela vanishes, and I can only imagine how much Valerie could accomplish if given enough time—both in terms of magical potential and even more so in terms of artistic talent. That beautiful image was a rush job, all the effort she felt she needed to get the minimum quality required, and no more.

Still, with Sela hidden, we manage to extract ourselves from town without incident, making it back to Sela's real body and taking off for the burning canopy once more. I don't do much other than rest all day, my still-growing body needing Kagiso and Helen to help carry it all the way back to the ship.

Still, it's a good, relaxing day. With nothing to do but wait for my exoskeleton to harden and everyone else cooped up inside Sela anyway, we all just kind of… hang out. Valerie spends most of the time drawing, though we do get a few good board game sessions in, getting obliterated by Kagiso twice more before we all gang up on her in the third game and Helen barely manages to pull off a win by betraying us at the perfect moment. Valerie was really mad at her for that, though I didn't care. It's not like I was going to win, anyway.

Afterwards I mostly just rest my head on Val's fuzzy tail (with permission, of course) and watch her draw. It's nice, and before I know it I'm waking up back on Earth, feeling relaxed and well-rested. Gosh, what day is it now? Tuesday?

Oh yeah, didn't I maul a guy yesterday?

I giggle a little at the thought, just coming out of nowhere like it's somehow reasonable. But yeah, I guess I did maul a guy yesterday, and the video of me doing it went viral on Twitter, both an edited version and a full version, graphic content warnings and all. That's probably going to cause a commotion or two at school. I kind of look forward to it. I always get such an odd rush at the prospect of getting to upend people's view of reality.

After I get ready for school and head outside, though, I spot something unexpected… although in retrospect it probably shouldn't have been unexpected. It's a news van from Channel Nine, the same people that interviewed me back at my job after I first came out. They're quite quick on the draw, aren't they? Well, I guess I can indulge them. They hop out of their van pretty much the moment I walk out of my house, waiting carefully on the sidewalk so they don't trespass into private property. It's the same reporter and cameraman from last time. Man, they're really on top of me.

"Hannah, hello!" the reporter greets me, the camera already rolling. "Lucy Dandridge, Channel Nine! How are you doing this morning?"

"Not too bad, all things considered," I answer, rolling a shoulder. "I'm heading to the bus stop, so you have until then to ask me stuff, I guess."

"You're aware of the videos of what happened yesterday at your workplace then, yes?" she asks, keeping pace with me.

"Yeah, my friends wouldn't stop messaging me about it," I sigh.

"So the events depicted are true, then?" she presses. "It looked like you got hurt quite badly. Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," I confirm, lifting my shirt to show off my unscarred gray tummy. Heh, I have a little bit of abs now. My transformation is the coolest. "The shotgun did a lot more damage than expected, but it's not the sort of thing that can actually kill me."

"Why do you think you were targeted for an act of violence like this?" she asks, which makes me smile a little. Honestly, I didn't really expect the local news to take the stance that I'm the victim here, but it's pretty cool that they are. I'm sure that plenty of other news outlets won't be as nice, of course, but I don't mind the early softball.

"I mean, I've never met the man before in my life," I tell her, "but he didn't really seem like he was in a healthy state of mind. I hope that he gets the help he needs."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I think he needs like, mental health care?" I say, scratching the back of my head. "He brought a shotgun into a restaurant and shot me with it. I dunno, I just feel like healthy people don't do that sort of thing."

"Are you worried about this sort of thing happening again?" the reporter asks.

"Oh, absolutely," I nod. "I figured I'd have to live with being assaulted from the moment I came out as a weird little bug girl, but I'm not really worried for my personal safety. What I'm worried about is everyone else's safety. I was expecting to get stabbed alone in an alleyway, not shot in the middle of a building with dozens of other people in it. That man never put me in danger, but everyone else in the restaurant? Yeah, I was absolutely terrified they'd get hurt. That's why I did my best to keep his attention on me."

"On that note," the reporter says, "it seems like you aren't the only person in town that's… obviously magical in nature, so to speak. Are you familiar with the others like you, and are you worried about their safety?"

I stop, frowning to myself. Ida or Autumn, being attacked? The thought of it… no. Flexing my limbs around me like an angel's wings, I face her.

"You know," I tell the camera with a wide smile on my face, "I really don't take it personally when people try to kill me anymore."

"Uh… you don't?" the reporter asks, her smile flickering a little.

"Nope!" I assure her, popping the 'p' a little. "It's happened more often than you might think. I'm pretty used to it. And that guy is lucky I was! I am made of swords, and you guys are made of meat. In a life-or-death fight, it can be pretty tough to prevent… y'know. The death? But I kind of have to, even given the fact that a person in Tennessee is well within their rights to respond with lethal force when threatened with a gun in their home or workplace. Being different from everyone else means people hold me to a different standard, and I respect that."

"I… I see," she stammers, and I grin even wider.

"It's just… well, I'm cool with people threatening me, right? It happens. But if you threaten the people I care about, I'm not confident I could respond in quite as level-headed a manner. I'm sure plenty of you can empathize with that. When your loved ones are in danger, other considerations just kind of stop mattering, you know?"

"Yes, I… suppose that's understandable," she gulps. "When you say that threats against your life have happened more often than we might think, what do you mean by that? Have there been other attempts to kill you?"

"Not on Earth," I answer with a shrug. "Turns out I'm a bit of a cuckoo situation, and my other home is… a lot more violent than this one. I go there fairly regularly. There have been some bad days."

"A 'cuckoo situation?'" the reporter clarifies.

"Yeah," I nod. "As far as I understand, divine intervention really messed me up in utero. I spent nearly eighteen years growing up thinking that I'm human and then bam! My skin starts molting off. Not a fun time, let me tell you."

"That's… quite interesting," the reporter blinks. "Are there other 'cuckoo situations,' as you put it?"

"Not to my knowledge," I say, shaking my head. "The handful of other magic users in town have different origins. But it's somewhat personal, and not really my place to get into. Though if you do suspect someone isn't human, keep in mind that culturally, they probably are. I was born here, I was raised here, and I lived my life entirely as a human here up until a few months ago. I…"

I wince as I realize what the best way to sum things up is.

"...I am still my mother's daughter, despite everything," I conclude. "No amount of extra limbs will erase the time she spent raising me. So if you know someone who's growing any, please keep that in mind. They're still human on the inside, and that will never change."

…Why did saying those words hurt so much? Ugh, y'know what, I'm not thinking about that right now. I see my therapist tomorrow, anyway.

The interview wraps up soon after that, mostly because I shoo the reporters away before we reach the bus stop. It would be bad to bother my classmates any more than I usually do. The bus ride over is lonely without Valerie, but overall I get to spend a lot more time with Valerie than I usually do thanks to her being treeside, so that thought makes me pretty happy.

English class is boring and uneventful, but I start feeling real awkward as Biology starts because it's the class I share with Alma. I know we just had a nice talk, but it's still scary. I'm so terrified of hurting her again that I think I might throw up. Alma doesn't seem to share my compunctions, though, and walks directly up to me the moment I enter the room.

"Here," she says, dropping a cell phone into my hand. Oh! Valerie's phone!

"Uh, th-thank you!" I manage to stammer, quickly tossing it into my backpack. Smooth, Hannah. "Really, this will be a big help. Did, uh, did things go well?"

"I have no idea," Alma admits. "You'll have to ask Jet. But they don't seem too agitated, today?"

I glance down at her tail, which is somehow glowering at me warningly despite not having eyes. You're getting a second chance. You won't get a third. Do NOT fuck with us. …Or something.

I hate to focus on it, but Alma is absolutely adorable with all her inhuman features on display. Her big caracal ears flop down on either side of her head, all endearingly droopy as she fidgets by tapping her claws against each other. Where Jet holds her wings firmly up and behind her back, Alma's wings wrap forward around her arms, hugging her like a loose cloak and trailing nearly to the floor.

A pang of longing and regret echoes through my body, but I push it aside. It's far too late for that.

"So… you're doing okay?" I ask. "How's… y'know, the whole 'being openly nonhuman' thing treating you? I'm a little worried, after what happened yesterday."

"...Yeah, same," she agrees, and at some point I end up sitting down in a seat next to hers while we wait for class. "It's not really something we can do anything about. I'm worried because Jet and I don't really have a good way to heal ourselves if we get hurt."

"Yeah, but you're better at ways to prevent yourself from getting hurt in the first place," I point out.

"That's true," Alma concedes. "I hope that will be enough."

Goddess, me too.

"Well, for what it's worth," I say, "if you're ever in danger or just afraid of being in danger, you can call me. I'll drop everything to help you, alright? I owe you that much."

"Alright," Alma shrugs. "Thanks."

Class starts not long after that, and most of the day passes soon afterwards. I see Ida again in the class we have together after lunch, buzzing around with her feet barely an inch off the ground. Of course she's already figured out how to fly. That's Ida, for you.

"Hey, Hannah!" she greets me happily. "How was getting shot?"

"Uh, not super great?" I answer. "I'm glad no one else got hurt, at least."

"I know I say this kind of thing a lot, but it is literally the most Hannah move in the world to be literally disemboweled by a round of twelve-gauge buckshot and just kind of show up to school the next day like nothing happened," she chuckles, landing next to me and bumping her shoulder into mine.

"...I mean yeah, I guess so," I shrug. "But to be fair, most people can't get disemboweled by anything and walk it off afterwards."

"I mean sure, but I can and I guaran-fucking-tee you that I'd milk the situation for a week off anyway."

"...Fair," I admit awkwardly. "I just… I dunno. What else would I do with my time?"

"Whatever nerds do! You could play video games, or something?"

I shake my head.

"It would feel disingenuous to take time off of school and end up streaming for work instead," I argue.

She flicks me in the butt with her tail, causing me to jump a little.

"I didn't say stream, I said play video games. Geez, Hannah, can you seriously not just have a hobby without turning it into… oh, who am I kidding, of course you can't."

She sighs dramatically.

"Well," Ida drawls, "I suppose it is my solemn duty to ensure you relax from time to time. …In my bed, ideally."

"Ida," I blush.

"Hannah I want to have more crazy violent monster sex."

"Ida," I beg her, intensely aware of exactly how many people are staring at us. "Not here, please?"

"Well yeah, I said in my bed. We'd have to get real freaky to fuck at school."

"Ida!"

She cackles and flitters off to her seat, leaving me flustered and embarrassed and unfortunately kind of aroused. Curses. I do my best not to think about any of that for the rest of the school day, taking the bus home and thankfully not being ambushed by any more reporters or government agents on the way. My workplace is closed today due to all the bullet holes and monster blood, so I finally have time to stream for once. It's not one of my normal streaming days, but… hmm.

I can't help but think about Ida's comment on hobbies. I do want to relax and play games, but the thought of doing it without streaming feels… wrong, somehow. Like I'm failing myself. Yet I know if I turn the stream on, it won't really be a fun time playing Pokémon. It'll be a hundred people all asking me about magic, about getting shot, about everything they care about and what they want to know and what they want to see me do. Because of course it will be. Streaming isn't about me. It's my job.

I don't… really want to do that right now. Maybe I should relax. It's easier to relax in absence of anything else to be doing, though; on the World Tree, we spend most of our time traveling, so I don't have to feel guilty for having nothing to do. That's not the case here. On Earth, there's always something I should be doing. Usually multiple things. If I'm not being productive with something, even if it's not exactly the best thing to do at the time, I get really uncomfortable.

So I just sit there at my computer for about half an hour, fidgeting with pent-up anxiety and failing to get invested in anything fun until I finally get up, pull out my phone, and ask if my family is cool with me making dinner tonight, to which I get three very surprised but perfectly enthusiastic affirmations. It's just… something to do.

Now I just need to figure out what to make and buy the ingredients and stuff.

Meals for me have been… interesting since all this started up. Not being able to digest plant matter cuts out a comical amount of food from my diet, and since my family probably doesn't want to just eat a giant slab of meat and nothing else I should probably prepare some sides for them. I opt to go with an old classic: mashed potatoes and pork chops. Since my taste buds are messed up I won't really be able to tell if I've seasoned the mashed potatoes well or not, but like… they're mashed potatoes. As long as I don't burn them the worst thing that happens is that they're bland.

With that in mind I empty my backpack, toss a couple of things in there like my wallet and some flip-flops, and then start jogging barefoot to the closest grocery store. Since my 'jog' is upwards of twenty-five miles per hour, I stick to the bike lane this time. The asphalt feels nicer on my claws than concrete anyway.

People stare at me, take pictures of me, and film me, but I ignore them. When I make it to the local Kroger I put my flip-flops on just because I feel weird about not wearing shoes in stores, though it turns out there's a very complicated history about why that is. I looked it up a bit ago since being barefoot is so much more comfortable for me. Turns out, while wearing shoes is generally required for employees per the health code, there are no laws in the vast majority of states that mandate customers to wear anything on their feet! However, businesses aren't the government and the owners of businesses can refuse service or entry to people without shoes anyway just because they own the place. Generally, they do so not for health reasons but for liability reasons—people wearing shoes are less likely to get injured from stepping on stuff, and getting injured on someone else's property tends to give you a pretty good case to sue them… though your case is a lot less good if you're on the owner's property without their permission. But, y'know, then things get complicated and lawyery.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Basically, I could probably get away with going barefoot wherever, because if I step on a nail it's the nail that loses. But despite all this logic, it still feels weird and socially uncomfortable, so I don't. Flip-flops aren't too bad anyway. They're nice and squishy, and my claws peek just over the edge of the lip so that if I curl my toes I get to dig into the front of the shoe and it sends happy little tingles up my feet. I like it a lot.

I don't really like the stares, though. I was really having fun with them at first, getting to show off my rad body to gawking onlookers, but lately they've been a lot less entranced and a lot more… scared. There are still people who mainly seem interested, curious, or in awe, but they're the minority now. I guess ripping a guy's arm off on camera after having your guts blown out will do that to your public opinion.

Still, I ignore the person who thinks they're being subtle recording me selecting a good-looking set of twelve pork chops for dinner, grabbing a small sack of potatoes, and nabbing a few things to make it all taste better before heading into express checkout. I almost head into self-checkout before I realize I'm stupid and I left my gloves at home, so I can't use the touch screens. The girl behind the counter stares at me the way a deer stares at an oncoming car as I ignore her silent pleading to not enter her checkout line. Sorry! I dump all the stuff I've grabbed onto the little conveyor belt thing from where I've been pinning it all to my body with various limbs, giving the girl a firmly close-lipped smile.

"Hey," I greet her. "Sorry, I'll be out of your hair in just a second."

She flinches, a guilty look flashing over her face.

"Oh, uh, no problem," she mutters, scanning my items as I poke through the credit card machine with the attached stylus. "You, um, really like pork, then?"

"...I'm cooking for my family tonight," I tell her. You do realize I have a family, right?

"Oh, uh. Cool."

After buying everything I pack it in my backpack and run home, quickly getting everything set up for dinner. Both Yuki and my dad are home at this point, and though Yuki is holed up in his room alone, my dad sits down at the kitchen counter and seems intent on hanging out near the kitchen while I make food.

"Thanks again, Hannah!" he says happily. "Though I, uh, didn't realize you'd be running off to buy food alone. Gave me quite a scare!"

"...Why?" I ask, activating a Spatial Rend on my thumb and quickly peeling the skin off of one of the potatoes.

"Because… you got shot yesterday, sweetie," he says. "I didn't think you'd be going to school, let alone running off by yourself."

"Dad, if more people are going to try to shoot me, why would you want it to happen at home?" I ask, dropping the peels in a bowl and grabbing the next potato. "That just puts you, Mom, and Yuki in danger. I'll be fine."

"Is it so strange that I'd want to be there to protect you, Hannah?"

"No, it's not strange," I sigh. "It's just a dumb idea. You can't 'protect' me, dad. I'm the single most dangerous person on the entire planet."

He raises his eyebrows, smiling like that had been a joke.

"Really?" he asks. "The whole planet?"

"Dad, they could send fifty guys with guns at me and I'd kill them all without even trying," I tell him, crushing a peeled potato by clenching my fist. "I'm not the one in danger when I leave the house. You are. If anyone actually intelligent wants to hurt me, they'll go after you."

"...Oh," he says, looking sad. "I see. What about your friends?"

"Going after them would just be a different kind of stupid," I answer. Ida and Autumn are dangerous all by themselves, but more than that? If my family was captured, I might cooperate or negotiate to get them back. If my friends were captured? Well, it's like I told that reporter. I probably wouldn't be able to stay rational.

I just care a lot more about my friends than I do about my family.

I manage to time the meal well, albeit by sheer accident. Mom comes home from work slightly before I start cooking the pork chops on the skillet, the spiced potato peels nearly ready to come out of the oven while their mashed innards are… hopefully flavored well, from my memories of making them back when I tasted things the same way a human does. The pork chops should be fine, though; we've always just used a pre-made seasoning mix for that. When we actually sit down to eat it all, I find that it's delicious in a different way than it used to be, but it's still delicious. That's nice, at least.

Though I'm finally spending time with my family outside the context of getting arrested, we don't exactly have much in the way of conversation at the dinner table. People mostly just thank me for making food, and then we eat the food, and then I retreat back upstairs and dissociate until it's dark enough for me to feel comfortable dimensional-teleporting Valerie's phone and putting myself to sleep.

Bluh. Nothing bad even happened today. Why do I feel like shit? At least when I wake up treeside, it's surrounded by people I love. That automatically makes the day better. Everyone else is already awake for once, even Kagiso, but I guess my body needed the extra sleep to continue recovering from my molt. Everything is still a little weirdly proportioned and awkward to move with, but I at least don't feel incapable of moving on my own. I manage to successfully struggle to my feet all by myself, plodding over to where Valerie is drawing things on the floor.

"Hey," I manage to say before a yawn seizes control of my respiratory system.

"Good morning, Hannah," Valerie nods at me. Her tail looks longer than it did yesterday, and it shows no signs of slowing down its growth. Quite the opposite, actually. It's already nearly down to her ankles. …Though I guess that could be the fact that she's getting shorter just as much as her tail getting longer.

"What kinda spells are you drawing?" I ask, stretching out and lying down next to her.

"Uh, fire resistance backups, mostly," Valerie answers. "Since we're going to a place called the 'burning tunnels' and all. I also have a couple acid resistance ones too, just in case it's that kind of burning. I hope the name isn't ironic."

"Hey Sela!" I call out. "Are the burning tunnels ironic?"

"No, they are on fire," it answers over the intercom.

"Well there you go, then," I say. "Hopefully we won't actually be going into the tunnels? I can survive heat just fine, but I can't survive suffocation, and fire does that too."

Valerie stops what she's doing and stares at nothing for a second, a scowl on her face.

"...Shoot, I didn't actually think of that," she mutters. "Too many RPGs just let you walk on lava with fire immunity and call it a day. …Well, whatever, I can start drawing magic to help us breathe instead."

She flips her artbook to the next page and starts a new drawing immediately, and it brings a smile to my face without me really knowing why. It's neat that I can smile now, on this side of things. I'll miss being a cute little hat, but I'm excited for all the upcoming improvements to my body, too.

"I got something for you, by the way," I say, placing her cell phone down next to her drawing pad. She looks up at me for the first time this conversation, surprise and excitement on her face.

"Oh wow, is this awesome! How did you manage to get this from my parents?" she asks, poking away at the screen.

"Jet stole it for me while she was robbing them," I shrug.

"...Oh," Valerie frowns, wrinkling her nose. "Well, whatever, I guess they deserve it."

"Good morning, Hannah," Helen greets me with a nod. "You sure slept a while."

"Morning!" Kagiso parrots.

"What can I say, shedding my epidermis and reconfiguring all of my limbs just makes me really sleepy," I shrug, another thing I can at least kind of do now. "How are you guys?"

"Bored!" Kagiso complains.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a bit cooped up myself," Helen agrees. "I need to run around in less-stale air."

"I have welcome news for you then, meat," Sela buzzes. "We will arrive at our destination shortly. Though as much as I would prefer to deposit you into your certain deaths, I am unfortunately obligated to not let you disembark within the burning tunnels. Please allow my systems to keep you comfortable while I easily fly through what would be certain death for weak, pathetic beings such as yourself. It will be after we visit the burning tunnels that I will find a landing spot for you to witness the canopy more directly. For now, please direct your attention to the display screens, which have had their brightness reduced for the benefit of your pathetic, mortal optical sensors."

"My eyes can probably take brightness just fine," I point out.

"Yes," Sela agrees, "but I clearly excluded you from that statement."

Um. What? I don't have time to interrogate what it means by that, though, because soon the monitor in front of us lights up with distant flames. The tree blazes before us, its large, mushroom-like canopy nothing but a mess of fire and smoke. The tips of branches constantly collapse as their structural integrity weakens from the flames, the edges of the tree pouring massive, flaming chunks of wood down into the atmosphere below like a volcano belching lava, burning up into nothing before they ever finish their fall. Black clouds rise in the opposite direction, forming a massive, slowly spinning column of smoke like a dark god's typhoon. High above the tree, it meets the collection of clouds that enclose this world, mixing with them and spreading out into the sphere of white that surrounds us. I've never actually asked what's on the other side of those clouds, come to think of it. I wonder if anyone knows.

So. This is what an apocalypse looks like. I can't say it isn't worthy of the word.

"This has been going on for centuries?" Valerie breathes, terror and awe on her face. "How? How has it not burnt itself out? How has it not consumed the entire tree?"

"Quite easily," Sela buzzes. "Your idiotic human mind is simply failing to comprehend the scales involved, as your kind always does. The tree is smaller than it was centuries ago, yes, but there is a maximum rate at which the fire can consume its fuel. There is a lot of available fuel."

"Don't trees naturally stop burning before they completely collapse, though?" Valerie presses. "When a wildfire passes through a forest, a lot of the trees stay standing and even survive, right? Living wood is wet, living trees are adapted to survive wildfires, and a fire of this scale… shouldn't it at least choke itself out from oxygen?"

"...Maybe the tree is too dry because it's been uprooted?" I hedge.

"No," Sela answers. "The reality is that the fire does die out. Not completely, but it does. Observe."

The screen does a classic sci-fi zoom-and-enhance, focusing on a relatively small section near the middle of the flames. A lot of branches around the area have been completely obliterated, rather than the slow, dramatic burn of most of the canopy. It's an empty area of charcoal black, dark and unburning, with a giant hole in the center, wider than a mountain.

"That," Sela tells us, "is our destination. One of the burning tunnels."

"...You mean the one thing that isn't burning?" Helen asks, but the viewscreen just flashes back to the zoomed-out picture as Sela accelerates towards the flaming canopy.

"You shall see," it promises. "AblativeSoulBarrier(powerCell[6], 0.15, SPHERE, 0, 0, 0)"

Our approach might take us through the path with the least fire, but the roar of the inferno around us is still louder than Sela's engines as we approach. Sela's soul-powered shielding keeps us safe from the heat, but the horrific view of what I imagine hell must look like still feels hot anyway. Even as we approach the charcoal tunnel, the least-burning place in the entire sea of flames, the most prominent feature is still fire. But eventually, we pass into the hole, into the trunk of the tree, and away from the brilliant pyre. Things quiet down. Things cool off, if only a bit.

The tunnel is mind-bogglingly massive, though obviously only a tiny fraction of the surface of the tree. It's deep though, entirely lined black charcoal and almost perfectly cylindrical. There's a very slight curve to it, enough that we start to see less and less of the entrance the deeper we go in, but the walls still form a pristine circle all the way down.

"Again," Helen says, "not a lot of burning going on here. Though it certainly looks like it was burning."

"Recent," Kagiso hums. "Look."

She points at the screen, dull red embers in the charcoal still glowing.

"...This place is going to catch back on fire soon, isn't it?" Valerie sighs.

"Affirmative," Sela answers. "This location will ignite again in eight hundred and thirty-two point seven beats."

"In what?" I ask.

"Thirteen point eight MINUTES_HEURISTIC," Sela answers.

"Oh hey, I have my phone!" Valerie says excitedly. "We can remove that heuristic designation now! Look, this thing will show you how long seconds and minutes and stuff are."

"Ah yes, the computational device that Hannah decided to teleport directly inside me," Sela mutters. "Please, do explain it to me."

Aw, butter side down.

"Oh my Goddess, I forgot!" I yelp. "I'm sorry, Sela! I was so excited about getting Valerie most of her spells back it completely slipped my mind to get your permission! I can send it back right now, if you want me to!"

"Do not," Sela snaps. "It's already here; I may as well analyze it first. A single one of such devices will not make an appreciable impact, in the end."

Wait, what? Won't make an impact? I thought Sela was super worried about computers getting reverse-engineered. Because like, that would make an impact, wouldn't it? Once you know how to build something, teaching other people how to build it is a pretty fast process. I guess people treeside might need to have the right magic to substitute the technology required to manufacture the parts, but that's the thing: there are going to be people with magic that can substitute for whatever the heck modern-day humans use to make computer chips. People in this world can create matter out of thin air, for fritter's sake!

…On the other hand, I'm not sure I should argue with Sela on why it shouldn't let Valerie keep her phone. That sounds like the sort of thing that might make it change its mind entirely out of spite. So I say nothing, and we wait and watch the tunnel as it stretches off seemingly into infinity.

"It approaches shortly," Sela says after a while, its engines kicking into higher gear and nearly knocking us over as it starts to accelerate. Even after all this time, we're not even close to the other end of the tunnel. It seems like it really goes through the entire trunk of the world tree. "Watch the rear-view cameras."

The wall-sized screen flickers and changes to show behind the ship, Sela's engine exhaust covering the bottom edge of the view while we watch the exact same black charcoal tunnel move away from us instead of towards us. But soon, the black starts to glow red. Red, then orange, brighter and brighter as something behind us gets closer and closer, gaining on us despite our incredible speed. Soon, the walls start to vaporize, peeling away whatever protective coating they acted as to the wood underneath in moments.

And then, the burning tunnels burn.

Everything lights up in flame around us, Sela darkening the viewscreens enough to prevent everyone else from being blinded by what follows. The thing that chases us, the impossible force that sets the tree aflame, comes into view. The apocalyptic event that burns through the center of the trunk over and over, never letting the fire die out, is in full view. It is a giant flaming sphere. An enormous, roiling ball of plasma.

It is, unmistakably, the sun.

Really. It's the sun. I'd know; I can actually stare at the sun without hurting my eyes, though I try to avoid doing so just in case the lack of pain doesn't actually mean a lack of damage. It is, uh, obviously a bit smaller than the sun Earth orbits around (by like five fucking orders of magnitude) which surprises me; I'd always assumed the sun here on the world tree was just really far away, like the sun on Earth. But nope; the world tree sun apparently looks around the same size as our sun by being that much closer—close enough to set the entire goddamn tree on fire every single day by burning a hole clean through its trunk.

How. The fuck. Does any of that make any sense?

"AblativeSoulBarrier(powerCell[7], 0, SPHERE, 0, 0, 0)

AblativeSoulBarrier(powerCell[8], 0, SPHERE, 0, 0, 0)

AblativeSoulBarrier(powerCell[9], 0, SPHERE, 0, 0, 0)

AblativeSoulBarrier(powerCell[10], 0, SPHERE, 0, 0, 0)"

Sela's repeated calls on the Goddess force me temporarily out of my shock and indignance as I realize the sun is about to overtake and consume us.

"Sela, have you done this before!?" I yelp.

"Our odds of survival are acceptably close to one hundred percent," Sela answers, which is not reassuring at all.

"What even is that?" Valerie asks.

"Day fire!" Kagiso cheers. "Oooh! Does day fire have organs? Going to get to see!?"

"Wait, by 'day fire,' do you mean—"

"Yeah Val that's the fucking sun!" I almost scream.

"How is that… isn't that way too small to be the—"

Valerie gets cut off again, though not by me this time. The Goddess-damn motherfucking sun in the sky that makes daytime happen overtakes Sela, swallowing us up in a fire so all-consuming that the viewscreens show nothing but a plasmic sludge. Turbulence knocks us all to the floor, the lights in the living area of Sela's body dimming as we endure the onslaught.

"Barrier one depleted," Sela announces calmly. "Barrier two depleted. Barrier three depleted."

"I don't wanna know!" I shriek. "I don't wanna know, Sela!!!"

"Squirm then, meat," Sela answers crisply. "Barrier four depleted."

"Aaaaaah!"

The thunder of turbulence ends as the sun completely overtakes us, only knocking us around a couple more times in its wake. I'm hyperventilating on the floor, my limbs tangled up with those of my friends who have all been freaking out to various degrees themselves, though in Kagiso's case it was mostly excitement.

"The stupid things your ramshackle brains find fearsome are quite amusing," Sela hums as the sun slowly disappears down the tunnel, leaving naught but us and fire in its wake. "Data acquisition: complete. Mortal feathers: thoroughly ruffled. Hull integrity: factory condition. Mission successful."

"Don't talk shit about my feathers," Helen grumbles, pushing Kagiso off of her face. "Hannah, why were you and Val freaking the fuck out so much?"

"If our sun got even slightly closer to our homeworld, literally everyone would die," Valerie answers. "I guess that's not how it works here, though."

"Okay, but the sun should still not be regularly burning holes through the trunk though, right?" I ask. "That's just absurd, right? Who the fuck changed the orbit of the sun two hundred years ago?"

"No one," Sela answers. "That has always been the orbit of the sun, at least for the past three point one billion years."

"Then how and why does any of that make sense!?" I ask.

"It's simple," Sela answers, the fire burning around us. "What you just saw is the sun. It is the celestial body that gives light, heat, night, and day to this world. But it is not the Tree of Souls' sun. It is the Pillar's. It orbits around my home, on its set trajectory, uncaring of whatever happens to be in its way. That is how my world has always worked."

"How… Sela, what are you saying?" I breathe.

"Please, Hannah," the robot sneers, "I already have quite a low opinion of your intelligence. Do not reduce it further."

I don't respond. I can't respond. There is something too terrifying about the conclusions that would most obviously be drawn, something too final in what I know that means. Why is the tree uprooted? Why is the Slaying Stone piercing the tree? Why is the canopy ablaze? I've been wracking my brain, trying to figure out if there's any way to solve any of those three apocalypses, but that was always the wrong way to go about it, wasn't it?

"There has only ever been one apocalypse, hasn't there?" I say quietly. "It's all the same event."

"Yes," Sela confirms. "Would you like to meet the man who caused it?"