“Morniiing~!”

Pang and Irma groaned in unison as they entered the still air outside their apartment building. Pyper already stood waiting for them, steaming teacup in hand, with Benton and Aoi behind her.

“Look who's finally up,” Benton joked. “Y'all are mighty late. We were gettin’ worried.”

Pyper pretended to sulk. “I guess they didn't want to do breakfast with us…”

Pang almost forgot Pyper had invited them last night. But there was no chance it would've worked out.

“We were up so late,” moaned Irma. She turned a bit blue as her stomach moaned even louder. “And I think I ate too much cake…”

Given her current state, Pang was impressed Irma was even able to spruce up for the day like this. She looked fresher and brighter than usual, clearly prepped for a long mission.

But it hadn't come without Pang's emergency help:

“Plus,” Pang accused, “your girl almost forgot to charge her legs last night. We had to slap those things on last-second.”

“They're not ‘those things!’ They're Roberta and Beatrice!”

“You NAMED them?!”

They hesitated when they realized Pyper had begun leading the group away already. Pang and Irma rushed to follow.

There wasn't a shred of annoyance or urgency in Pyper's walk, but somehow, Pang could sense how much she and Irma must have held everyone up.

“Hey uh, Pyper, ma'am,” detected Benton, “no disrespect to your position, but ain't it faster to cut through downtown?”

“You're right, Benton,” she affirmed. “But…I wanted to show you guys something.”

After a few minutes of walking, Pang's suspicion grew. Then, she became certain: she knew where they were headed.

A chorus of chattering voices began filling the air past the buildings.

“What's all the commotion? They throwin’ some sorta concert?”

Benton found his answer within moments. They reached the long walkway by the field and recreational area.

People were everywhere.

Specifically, young women and girls.

Some walked or sat together in the field, others jogged around them on the outskirts, while some filled the tennis courts and various sports courts to the side. The base had never seemed so lively.

“Whoa…what the…?” Irma remarked while they passed by the courts. She analyzed a girl's swinging form, perhaps subconsciously.

A Proscious official or two accompanied each group, dressed similarly to the workers Pang had escaped from when she first awoke. But they all merely monitored the crowd like lifeguards.

“Hey wait…these girls are from Gage's lab!” Benton gathered. His face softened, respect emanating as he turned his eyes to Pyper. “Ma'am…that sure was sweet of you.”

“What was?” wondered Pyper, her head cocking to the side. “I didn't do anything…”

She turned and gazed at Pang, and as a result, so did the rest of the team.

“Pang…?” learned Irma.

“You pulled this off?” asked Benton.

Aoi applauded subtly, her claps dull behind her sleeves.

Shrugging, Pang let her smirk break through.

Cat's already out of the bag, she figured.

“Gage kept saying he'd do anything to make me happy,” she explained. “So last night, I just messaged him with a threat: treat all these girls like royalty from now on, or I'll never be happy again.”

Down in the center of the field stood a sorry figure, too busy with his mundane new mission to notice the team walking by.

Gage watched the girls’ field day continue on just like one of the lowly guards. He lugged a bucket of water bottles over to one of the groups.

“Joke's on him. It doesn't change anything between us,” Pang added.

She couldn't help but crack a smile when Irma gave her a vigorous high-five, pride in her nod like Pang had just scored an ace to win the match.

“Don't mess with Pang, that's for sure!” cheered Benton.

Pyper said nothing more, simply allowing the moment to happen as she continued guiding them along.

But in a way, her calm admiration of this victory seemed a bit fragile–like she was observing it through more lenses than her physical ones.

Perhaps she couldn't help but see it without its true context: after all, these young women were still trapped within this base in the center of a void. A bit of controlled freedom was only a droplet of mercy within their tainted reality.

And that fact held just as true for everyone on Pang's team. So maybe, as Pang was beginning to suspect, Pyper's situation was no different.

Maybe Pyper was contemplating the same thing on Pang's mind:

The irony between what they were celebrating, and what they were about to do.

~

“So Zat, which facility do we build these ships in, anyway?”

“Ha. This again, Ms. Pyper?”

Pang fixed her gaze on the ship in question. Or rather–it demanded her attention, since it had just sprung from under the ground before them.

The group stood at an edge of the base Pang hadn't yet visited, beyond the training facilities. It seemed uneventful until this moment, with nothing between them and the empty white sky but a single man in a gray uniform.

But now, the ship dominated their view. It was chrome and angular, like an oversized arrowhead. Its sleek form was undoubtedly a Science Fiction Country design, or at least an homage to it.

The hum it emanated was song-like as it levitated just above the floor in wait.

The man smirked at Pyper before inspecting the vessel.

“Even if I had the clearance to know the answer to your question, you know I wouldn't be allowed to tell you,” Zat reminded her. “You ask me every time.”

“I do?” Pyper pressed a fist against her head playfully. “Sorry, my memory's not very good.”

Zat laughed. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that.”

His inspection complete, he exchanged pleasantries with the others and introduced himself to Pang.

“Bit of a new lineup today, huh?” he noticed. “With a group like this, your mission must be a big deal.”

“It's a training exercise,” Pyper shrugged off. “Specifically, we're headed to Fiction Country.”

The information seemed to splash Zat in the face. He recoiled like he was allergic. “Wait–Ms. Pyper, I'm not supposed to–”

“See? I'm willing to share confidential information with a friend,” she teased.

She patted his shoulder innocently while she walked past him to approach the ship. The wall of its belly opened up as if made of liquid, revealing a cozy white fuselage within.

“Follow me, ducklings!” Pyper sang back.

‘Ducklings?’ She's already enjoying this too much…thought Pang.

But that wasn't what caught her ears the most.

Fiction Country, huh?

That detail was as new to her as it was to this Proscious worker. Pyper hadn't revealed much about their mission yet, leaving only speculation to fill in the gaps.

But Pang certainly hadn't seen this aspect coming.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Are they sure that's a good idea?

Fiction Country was vast and housed a slew of realities, but one of them was her home. The odds were slim, but if they headed to the next reality outside Artifex, or even if they ended up in the Mainland after that, Pang might recognize exactly where they were.

And that meant she'd know what way to go to make a break for it.

The team passed by Zat, who struggled to regain his composure. He checked a floating screen above his watch.

“Well…they loaded your route into the ship, so you're good to go,” he said. “And I guess I'll pretend I didn't hear where that route is taking you…”

“Good idea!”

Pyper's voice was dulled a bit now that she'd hopped into the ship and claimed her seat.

“You guys must be itching to get out again,” she said while they filed in.

But when Pang stepped inside, the metal clinking under her shoes, she found Pyper's attention squarely on her. The reflections briefly cast a glare over her glasses, masking her eyes, but Pang could still feel her pressing focus.

“Especially you, Pang,” Pyper added.

She tacked it on so nonchalantly, so candidly, Pang found herself shrugging in agreement.

But like thunder comes after the lightning, it didn't hit her until she took her seat:

Something was looming under those words.

What…did she mean?

Pyper had returned to sipping her tea, eyes closed to take in the sensation. She didn't spill a drop even when the ship stirred to life and commenced its silent flight.

Nah, I'm just overthinking it.

…Aren't I?

~

The ship's mechanisms were impressively soundless. And yet, Pang wished some sort of noise could fill the room. She wasn't one to hate silence–but something about this particular silence was unbearable.

Beside her, Irma scrolled mindlessly through her SquadScreen. Even Benton had nothing to say, crouched in the front corner. This was nothing like their daily gatherings in the cafeteria.

The air was stiff.

“It's a retrieval mission,” came Pyper's voice at last.

She must have been aware of how suddenly she was breaking the silence, because her words eased in gently.

Or perhaps, it was the subject of her words that steered her careful delivery.

“I'm sure that's no surprise to all of you,” she added. “They want us back by tonight. A basic retrieve-and-leave.”

She let her sleeve fall back and uncover her SquadScreen watch. By that motion, Irma and Benton finally stirred: the briefing had begun.

But their shared demeanor didn't change. Their eyes were cloudy.

Pyper tapped her screen, and a hologram of a face rose from it.

“Deanna Artem. A middle-aged Imaginer. She lives off-grid in the northwestern wilderness.”

The image had clearly been taken without Deanna’s permission. The woman's mouth was in an open frown and her rounded eyebrows furrowed, in the middle of shooing whoever was documenting her.

Just like her long, swirling hair, her eyes were like coal. And though they were filled with a fire Pang found familiar, she could see right through them:

This woman was scared.

“A traveling recruiter happened upon her village and scouted her,” Pyper continued. “Obviously, she refused. So we're on.”

Pang studied the image. “What makes this lady so special?”

She was surprised her teammates hadn't inquired yet. They simply sat and listened.

Maybe it didn't matter.

Or maybe, knowing less was easier.

“As usual, it's her powers,” said Pyper. “The report says she can somehow heal from all kinds of poisons and injuries…in real time. And as an Imaginer, she can replicate the process her body used to recover, and turn that into potions and cures for other people.”

Pang's eyebrows rose. Consciousness healing tech already existed, but it wasn't instantaneous or fit for diseases. It was no question how pivotal a power like that would be in anyone's hands–but especially in Proscious's.

She found herself glancing at Aoi.

Her bones chilled.

Alright…this is getting to be overkill, her thoughts staggered. I mean, come on…these people are overpowered enough, aren't they…?

“Proscious hopes to reproduce this healing ability in compatible fighters,” continued Pyper. “But most importantly–based on the studies I've checked out–we haven't crossed paths with this type of anomaly ‘till now. So it might be a puzzle piece for Aoi.”

At this point, Pang wasn't surprised. Aoi could already read minds, disintegrate things instantly, and teleport. Why not throw in some casual invincibility?

And with Proscious aiming to give her traces of every consciousness type, this seemed to check several boxes at once.

“Ugh…you actually read those essays?” sighed Irma, the very thought of it rendering her exhausted.

“Just for fun. I can't cook, but I can read fast!” tittered Pyper. “And that's how I learned my favorite part about this mission.”

We're about to kidnap someone, and she has a ‘favorite part…’ judged Pang. Yep: turns out all three S-Rankers are deranged.

“If Proscious rewrites the Multiverse,” Pyper said, “the plan is to use these powers to make custom cures for all realities. Neat, huh?”

Phillip's illness immediately came to mind, despite Pang's urge to block him out. He wouldn't have to spend his earnings on his rare treatment anymore if this actually succeeded.

…But why should she care anymore?

“Doesn't sound super ‘evil organization’ if you ask me,” she pointed out.

Pyper's smile curled slower this time. It disappeared behind her mug as she took a final sip.

“Maybe ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are just the two different sides of change,” she uttered. “We don't always get to pick the side we end up on.”

While it probably wasn't meant to, her phrase shut Pang back up.

Between her own life and those of her teammates, Pyper had quite a point.

But Pyper seemed far from proud of her own wisdom, already moving on.

“This should be a straightforward one,” she said. “They originally had this job lined up for a Rank-C team, but I requested it for us. It'll be a great way to practice a real-world scenario with this lineup–and show Pang what we do.”

“I think I got the gist when these guys kidnapped me,” shrugged Pang, “but sure.”

Her weight shifted as the ship slowed in the air.

“Prepare for ejection.”

A steady, lingering sigh escaped Benton. Irma uncrossed her arms.

The cloudiness remained in their eyes.

Finally parting ways with her mug, Pyper stood.

“True…but there's a difference between seeing the predators,” she uttered casually, “and knowing how it feels to be one.”

Pyper offered her hand.

“Ready to find out?”

Though she was reluctant at first, Pang was glad she chose to accept Pyper's gesture.

As it turned out, her hand wasn't there to help Pang stand from her seat.

It was there to brace her.

The ship's floor vanished beneath her still-steadying balance. Or rather–the entire ship vanished. Instantly, they were free falling through the empty white air.

Pang's grip squeezed Pyper's in spite of herself. The fact that Pyper's hand remained gentle was her only reassurance that all of this was supposed to be happening.

Her next hint came quick, as an unseen force snatched the group from their descent and tugged them forward.

Then, for a change, she experienced something familiar: infinite flowing lights.

Worldline lights.

They took over her vision for a moment, their familiarity quelling her evasive instinct even before her feet found the ground again.

Wait…there's ground?

The swirling colors faded. Pang found herself standing upright, Pyper's hand steadying her balance.

Wherever they were, it was too dark to see anything. The still air of the Proscious base was replaced with a chill and a hushed breeze.

An…uneasy breeze.

Reorientated, Pang released her hand.

“Alright, so nobody was gonna warn me that was gonna happen?!” she barked.

Her voice echoed in all directions, like this place had been parched for sound until she spoke.

“Oh. I guess I've gotten too used to it,” reasoned Irma beside her, mostly concealed within the dark.

“Same. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Aoi, this is the nearest landmark to where we're going,” Pyper said. Her SquadScreen lit up with a picture, illuminating everyone enough for Pang to find them all huddled in a circle with her. “You've been there before, right? Can you take us there?”

Aoi nodded.

Pang watched everybody touch Aoi's outstretched sleeve, so she did the same.

At least this time, she knew what to expect.

In a blink, daylight found them all. Pang felt grass underneath her, along with a breeze she knew much better than the previous.

This was the Fiction Country Mainland.

They stood atop one of many round, soaring hilltops under an overcast sky. Any foreign consciousness could mistake them for the hills just south of the Fiction Country Conscious Conference, but since there was no accompanying woodland in sight, Pang knew better. This was indeed the northwestern Fiction Country Mainland.

What felt like an eternity ago, the rescue ship had carried her–Artifex's final survivor–above this terrain and towards the first solid ground she'd ever felt.

She stared at the sky as if she might catch a glimpse of that ship again.

Back then, she'd escaped to a better life.

“Alright. I so don't want this to take forever,” Irma proclaimed. “I need my legs charged for cooking tonight. Mashing guac in my chair is a hassle.”

“Welp, I don't wanna see you draggin’ your feet then, missy!” Benton teased. “Let's scoop ‘er up and head on home.”

Pang's head rattled from her daze. She watched her teammates.

All of the sudden, their usual liveliness was back. The clouds had cleared from their eyes.

No…not entirely.

“I sure hope she won't put up a fight,” Benton added.

“For real.”

Pang had spent enough days and nights with them now. She knew their stories.

Their hearts.

She could read right through this.

We're about to do what was done to us, Pang thought. We're about to ruin someone's life.

Here I am reminiscing on my escape…and I'm about to trap someone else.

I never really escaped anything, did I?

She'd only seen the image once, but the woman's eyes were already burned into her memory.

This is stupid. I don't wanna do this crap.

Pang watched Irma and Benton laugh after asking Aoi a silly question.

A plastic laugh.

They don’t wanna do this, either.

“Notice something?”

Pang's heart skipped. She snapped back to find Pyper had been studying her.

About what…?

Oh. I was staring at the sky a second ago. That's probably all she meant.

“Not really,” Pang uttered decidedly.

Pyper shrugged. “Alright.”

Casually, she turned to lead the way. But as she did, it happened again:

The thunder after the lightning.

Pyper had spoken in that same exact tone as before….like there was further intent hiding underneath her words.

Like she wanted Pang to find that intent.

“Actually–I did notice something,” Pang corrected. “I noticed a huge something.”

Everyone paused at the sharpness of her words. They all turned back to her.

Pyper smirked.

“Let's get real: none of us actually wanna go through with this rodeo, do we?” Pang challenged.

“Uh, did you just say ‘rodeo?’” snickered Irma. “You've been spending too much time around Benton–”

“I'm being serious!” shot Pang. “Think about it: right now, we have the two strongest Proscious members together. And the rest of us are pretty friggin’ strong.”

This time, nobody offered a witty remark. The plastic smiles left Benton and Irma's faces. Their masks were off again.

And underneath, was desire.

“So…what if we don't go kidnap this lady?” Pang pitched, a fire building within. “What if we just…never go back?”

Irma and Benton didn't blink. But though Pang's words seemed to freeze them, Pyper's smile spread big enough to push on her glasses.

Her response was immediate. “Alrighty! Well, we're supposed to go that way. So if we go this way instead…”

She began marching off, heading down the start of the hill.

“...We'll eventually be off-course!”

Jitters coursed through Pang's whole body.

It was happening.

Come to think of it, she would still have to find some way to liberate all of those girls back on the base. This opportunity came so swiftly, she'd nearly forgotten.

Baby steps, Pang decided. Escape now, get sweet revenge later. These guys know how to find that place again.

But still, Irma and Benton stayed put. They were more like statues than even Aoi.

“Hey girl…” cautioned Irma. “Uh, you probably shouldn't…”

“Ms. Boss–you should really turn around!” agreed Benton.

Pang nearly called out their sudden spinelessness, about to step after Pyper herself.

Then, she learned why that would've been her worst idea yet.

The sound was like metal slicing metal. Pang pounced–it had spawned out of nowhere, scraping her eardrums.

But the strike was invisible. Its only evidence was by how violently its force pounded Pyper down against the grass, flinging her limbs like a ragdoll's.

And as she crashed, blood splattered all around.