All 4 cats made themselves comfortable on his bed as if it were theirs, grooming their bodies and resting curled up. A couple jumped off the bed. One hopped onto the windowsill to bathe in the sun’s glow. Another, the orange cat, stared at Moko with its yellow eyes. He watched the animal approach him and hop onto his lap. His hands jerked up, feeling its soft paws pressing on his thighs.
The scent of earth and sweetness rose from its fur. Moko studied the pointy ears twitch and sway, invoking a desire to caress the animal. But then the cat retreated its head. Its repulsion caused his arm to be lifted awkwardly in the air. The cat lowered its body and sat on his lap. All of them seemed to have grown accustomed to his bedroom—rather, not caring much of Moko’s presence. He hadn’t given a good thought to their company compared to another guest in his room. Raising his head, he saw the little girl standing before him.
The child stood stiffly, the timid face half-covered by her black hair paired with a deep red hue of eyes—a little darker than scarlet. Her hands gripped her vibrant dress, and she clamped her lips shut. She looked like she wanted to say something, periodically opening her mouth but only then closing it back.
Behind her, Moko heard footsteps coming from down the corridor. He watched his father peer through the door. His posture was rather alert, the forearm and a part of his neck covered in scratches. His beard had a small stain of dried blood comparable to claw marks. Even redness smudged his outerwear. More marks tore the bottom bit of his pants.
In his sudden appearance, the girl yelped and retreated from the door. She walked over and stood beside Moko, creeping behind the chair to hide her body. Her hands seemed to reach for his, but accidentally grabbed the armchair instead. As her trembling voice seeped, the cats lifted their heads.
They glared at the sight of the father. Tails sprang up and eyes narrowed, hissing at the man with no inch of innocence. The one on Moko’s lap heaved its head and spat foulness at him. The father answered their threats by backing away with a tense chuckle, sliding from view. He said to Moko, poking his head from the side of the threshold, “Son… If you have time, come talk to us later. We really need to discuss something, but… take your time. And if you can, make sure no cat follows you.”
He then departed, strolling down the corridor from where he came. Moko and the girl were left alone again, aside from the cats. After his leave, they went back to their usual silence and slumber. The orange cat on his lap sat back down, closing its eyes and becoming too comfortable for Moko’s own comfort. The girl backed away, unwrapping her little hands from the chair. Her hands went back to holding her dress, and her head drooped.
“I’m sorry,” the girl whispered. Her teeth clenched, repressing the tears building up in her eyes.
“Sorry for what?” Moko asked, facing her.
“I hurt your mom and dad. They look like very nice people. They don’t want to hurt me. But I did. I’m sorry. I’m scared easily. Very scared.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t hurt them. The cats did.”
“I, I control them,” she replied, staring at the fluff balls around his room. “They’re with me. They’re like… When I’m sad, they’re also sad. When I’m scared, they’re also scared.”
“Oh.” Moko glanced down at the cat on his lap. He wondered what that meant for the one sitting on his thighs. The idea of animals interlinked with the emotions of a person puzzled him. –Did people in the Lei Realm ever control animals like she does? Maybe she came from a different realm, possibly Eslane.
“Sorry again,” she continued. “I will try my best to not hurt them. I’ll be nice…” Her voice stammered a bit, appearing to repeat the same apology as long as she could. When her volume lowered to whispers repressed by the hopeless sight of her swelling tears, he reached over the table to grab his System. Pinching the surface, he extracted a cookie.
(–1)
118,411 Cookies
“Here, want a cookie?” Moko asked, handing the small, doughy dessert to her.
“Cookie?” She responded, mumbling her words. Her eyes glazed at the circular chip. “Are… Are you sure? Don’t you need it for your System?”
“I really don’t–” He chuckled in the middle of his sentence, causing her to flinch. “Losing one cookie will not do anything. Trust me. Just take it. I’ll also eat one.”
She analyzed him and went back to ogle at the cookie offered. She released her hand from her dress and grabbed the cookie. The cats observed the two in silence, spectating the interaction without interjecting. Moko pulled out another one from his Cookie.
[+180 idly produced → 118,591 cookies]
(–1)
118,590 Cookies
The girl pulled the dessert to her face, observing it and nothing else. Her mouth hesitated to open. She darted in his direction, giving him the same concerned look as she’d done from the beginning. Seeing some hesitancy, Moko took a bite first. Chewing on the sugar-coated dough, he gestured for her to eat the same way with a light grin. Her mouth watered, swallowing her saliva and wiping her tears. She went to take her first bite—a small one. A bit of the cookie got pieced out, and she nibbled a single chocolate chip edging between the tips of her teeth.
“I never asked. What’s your name?” Moko inquired, placing his System back on the table.
She looked up at him as the corners of her lips trickled with crumbs. “Terayla.”
–Terayla. He said to himself, watching her become more invested in the cookie. She took larger chunks, the worry fading from her face. The silly mess of chocolate staining her lips didn’t seem to bother her. He replied, “I’m Moko. And if you want more, let me know.”
“M–Moko,” Terayla whispered. She repeated his name a few times to herself. A light smile hugged her lips alongside those cookie crumbs. She said with a light blush, “Thank you… Thank you a lot.”
The sun descended over the horizon, bringing the sky into a purple-orange gradient. Stars invaded the approaching night. Moko tucked Terayla into his bed, covered beneath the blanket, and rested. Standing on the side, he watched her eyelids flicker at times—a discomforting expression following. Yet, she breathed steadily, appearing to have fallen asleep.
A huff of air escaped him, leaving her alone and making his way to find his parents. In the middle of his thoughts, something occupied him longer than he could’ve imagined. –She ate 8 cookies.
The cats rested with her, curled up and eyes closed for the night. Their ears folded down. All but one was awake. The tabby cat didn’t join the rest in the bed but followed Moko. It left the bedroom with him as they walked down the corridor. He was aware of the animal tailing behind him, occasionally meow-ing to grab his attention. Moko stopped to wonder what it wanted from him. But in response, the cat only stared back with a little suspected reaction. He ignored the creature and traversed to his parents’ room a few doors down. In there, they waited.
“Moko,” the mother said, spotting him entering. “It will not be too long, we just want to…” As Moko entered, so did the cat. The two gave a sharp turn at it and stepped away, watching it gawk at them. Her voice hinted at nervousness. “You brought the cat.”
“It followed me,” Moko said. He watched the cat stroll past and jump on the desk. Ignoring the eyes, it casually groomed its paws. “I don’t think it’s going to do anything, not when Terayla is asleep.”
“Terayla? Oh, so that’s her name. I’ll trust in your… intuition.”
“You told me to come here?” Moko walked up to his parents, looking at his father.
“It’s about the girl,” he said. “You said you found her unconscious, so we assume you don’t know where she came from, exactly?”
Moko shook his head, a part of him asking the same questions to himself. –Why was she alone? Where are her parents? “No clue. I just found her in the woods. She probably got lost.”
They looked at each other. A trade of glances kept the air quiet, the parents signaling to each other with shaking heads. The father broke the silence and said, “We were thinking. You may not like to hear this, but we plan to send her away.”
Moko had to hear that again. “What? Send her? Where?”
The mother shrugged. “We don’t have a definitive answer to that. We only want her to find a place to live besides our Domain.”
He blinked many times and stood, alarmed. “Wait, why not? You don’t want her to live here? It’s not like she has a System from what I see, so she shouldn’t yield to the laws of the Lei Realm. Are you scared of getting attacked by the cats again?”
“No, that’s not it. We’d definitely take her in, but…” she sighed. “Have you noticed strange things happening to your System when you’re around her?”
“Not… really, no? I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“No wonder you didn’t bring it up. I wish we could show you, but as we speak,” the mother darted her gaze to the side and then back to him, “our production has been reduced to 0. Nothing is being made. Everything has been nullified.”
Moko paused until he jerked his head up in shock. “What, nullified?” He turned his head around. Down the corridor, machinery and pipes were running, carrying those large boxes of envelopes continuously. In this silence, he heard the Domain running as energetically as ever. He turned to them with a narrow-bewildered expression. “Aren’t the envelopes being recycled to your System right now?”
“Recycled, but no profit.” She added, “Production lowers only by removing Assets. At least, that’s how much we know. But in this case, Terayla is lowering the production. The moment the girl entered our Domain, every Asset we owned became worthless. Even the Objects themselves worthed to nothing…”
The father spoke next. “What we’re saying is that the girl might be the problem of this nullification. As long as she’s within our Domain, we cannot continue making Entities. And without Entities, we cannot afford anything.”
Moko contested. “There must be something we can do! Why not talk with her?”
“We did, and you know how terrible that was,” he pointed at the red scratches on his body. “Both of us had to purchase new clothes because of the cats. When we confronted her, she screamed, and the cats became defensive. We can’t do anything, not with that behavior. But she seems to be only comfortable around you. So have you tried talking with her?”
“Well… I didn’t think we’d be talking about this, so no. It didn’t seem like the right time to discuss this anyway.”
The father restated. “From what we know so far—the nullified production—we are planning to bring her somewhere away from our place. It’s not soon, by the looks of it. She can stay for the time being, but she won’t remain here.”
“What about making a shelter for her? Couldn’t you afford some materials in your Application? You know, make a small house outside your Domain.”
“We could.” He crossed his arms. “But it may not work. A Domain is just a way of saying a generalized term for everything we possess. If we make a house from materials purchased by our own System, then it’s still under a Domain. It might have the same effect if the girl is near it.”
“We wouldn’t know that if we try.”
“R–Right, but…”
The mother placed her hand on the father’s shoulder. He paused his sentence and turned. She gave him an assured look, shaking her head with a soft grin. The father conceded, and she faced Moko, a motherly tone overriding her initial concern. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s do it tomorrow morning. We’ll give that day to Terayla and help her with our undivided attention. With how many Entities we have in our System, sacrificing a little portion wouldn’t hurt if it’s for a child. We’ll find whatever we can to give her a home. But Moko, if nothing works at the end of the day, if we find that her presence is a direct cause of our issues, will you agree to send her away? We can’t extend any more than a few days because of circumstances.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Moko looked at her, bits of unprocessed thoughts running through his head. She kept the smile, waiting for a response. Father listened, sighed softly, eyes on the boy. In the quiet room, all three of them glanced at each other with bright expressions as Moko nodded and said, “Okay. Tomorrow morning.”
The next day arrived, the sun rising from the far reaches of the horizon. Sunlight seeped into the room where Terayla sat on the bed. With the blanket lapping over her legs, she peered at Moko standing by the threshold. Cats yawned awake, watching him traversing and kneeling beside the bed, meeting eye level with the child.
Moko expressed much lightheartedness in his tone, speaking as Terayla roused her hazy mind from the morning slumber. She giggled at his joking remarks. They continued bartering fun as the sun worked up to light the land. As time passed, Moko halted his carefree talk and momentarily lowered his gaze. Then, staring at her grinning face, he began asking questions, and it felt like the vivid of her energy had run from sight.
She listened, though sometimes glaring elsewhere. After he gave his share of words, Terayla exchanged her own piece—a shake of her head. Moko scratched his chin, asking another question to her. But she murmured a few words and shrugged. The bits of stammers, the slight tremor in her grip on the blanket, and the undirected blinks. That was all he needed to finish talking and get back up on his feet. He smiled, trying to comfort her one last time before leaving his room.
Moko stepped over the threshold and entered the stretching corridor. Looking to his side, there were his parents. Their heads went up as they saw him come into view. They pulled their attention to him, inquiring about the talk with Terayla. But just like the girl, Moko shook his head in helplessness. Sighs escaped from all three.
An hour after their breakfast came the next attempt. Moko guided Terayla to the entrance door, walking beside her closely. The parents followed behind with a considerable distance between them and the cats—tailing behind the girl in an orderly line. Pushing the door open, he brought her outside to the humid but delightful welcome of the yet-rising morning sun. Moko shadowed his face with his arms, hiding from the rays coming from afar. Winds blew from aside, feeling Terayla’s waving hair brushing his side.
Nearing the edge of the Domain, Moko stepped from the marble floor to the damp soil. He waved at the girl and heartened her to do the same. Terayla, following his simple move, stepped on the grass. The cats strolled in their wondrous minds as they hopped on nature’s ground. Moko peered at his parents who strolled outside with them but hugging the entrance door. He watched their faces focusing on a singular point—signifying the System screen presented before them. Moko and Terayla were quiet.
The parents lifted their heads and gave Moko a puzzled reaction. They asked Terayla to step back onto the marble floor. Moko lightly nudged her to walk forward. In response, she nodded and stepped into the Domain. Yet the expressions changed right when she had done so. Arms were crossed with folded lips. For the final clarity, they inquired of her to step back out again. Upon her feet departing, their faces expressed more of a frown—but conclusive nods. Moko also made his own conclusion from their looks. He rubbed his itchy cheek, groaning with bewilderment pinching his head.
Lastly, everyone left the Domain. They entered the extensive field surrounding the home and searched for a suitable spot for the last attempt. The parents started the scavenging, taking the lead through the vast land. Terayla followed behind Moko, almost hugging him as she occasionally caught small pebbles tripping her. The cats, in their usual strolls, also came along.
The parents were murmuring to each other. But after a lengthy walk, their mouths stopped as their heads veered in the same direction. Tipped trees, shattered trees, decomposing trees—they glared at all the fallen trunks over the hilltops. Having to analyze the deforested colony of plants, they looked to Moko. He gave them a half-genuine chuckle, clearly understanding their confusion. The rest of the walk was him explaining the sight they witnessed.
Strolling through grass and jutting roots, they found a solid place of pebbles and dirt. Darting his eyes across the open field and nodding of approval, the father swerved his fingers to the side, and Moko watched him work his magic with his System. Terayla went behind Moko and peeked her eyes from the side, eyeing the event’s unfolding. The mother walked onward. Situating a few meters away, she signaled the father by tapping her foot on the ground, digging a light crater with her shoes.
The father huffed and proceeded with the task. He stretched his arm out. Suddenly, a long strip of light appeared from a lone spot suspended in the hollow air. He grabbed the rope-like material and pulled it, seeming to pull it out from nothing. It stretched far and far until no more had come out. The tip swerved in the air. With one end attached to his finger, the other end fell to the floor, resting like an idle cord. He hoisted his arm behind his head and sent the strand far out in the mother’s direction.
During midcourse, the wailing tip bearing uncontrolled motions through the humid air restrained itself into a steady descent. Like a will of its own, the strip pointed itself at her open palm drawing attraction. She caught the material and stretched the extensive line until the swirling patterns straightened.
She then twisted her hand, spiraling her palm. In response, the gleaming light erupted sets of interconnected lines, extending across the land and forming a large 2-dimensional box. More arrangement of lines emerged from corners and filled the box with smaller compartments. With a swift move, the parents collectively lowered their hands, thus descending the outlined piece to the ground. Striking the floor and folding the grass, the structure punctured the soil and retained its shape.
Her fingers danced, and swinging her arm, the inter-jointed lines darkened in appearance. Moko felt the ground shake, move, and shift. He watched the strips of light forming in thick layers of walls of clay and cement penetrating deep beneath the surface. The increasing width of the materials pushed the soil away. Roots from beneath tore and snapped. Between the surfacing walls, steel wires jutted up and settled across the entrenched compartments. All of such emergence: a foundation.
The father traced his arm with swerving fingers, and another set of lines prompted from the thin air, sticking to his skin as he pulled the lengthening strip. Swinging his arm and sending the other tip her way, the mother grabbed the incoming rope, catching it and shifting her hands to the side. In the same fashion, linked sets of sharply twisted lines extended to the far reach. Aligning with the foundation on the other end, the parents pinned the interlinked joints on the cemented structure.
Both of their hands began performing wondrous works as the layer of light expanded upward. The gleaming presence transformed into walls, walls reaching above their heads and towering to compete with the trees. Reaching high at some distance, the heightening flare bent inward, leaving a sharp tip of a rooftop.
Lights dimmed. Lines straightened and textures formed beneath the gleaming sight, gray on one end and silk-white on the other. Brick walls materialized. Glass windows manifested. Roof tiles lay in perfect arrangement. And the door emerged, the entrance shut. Before them, in a short time, they fully constructed a small house.
Sighing with quick breaths and brushing their sweaty foreheads, they faced Terayla and encouraged her to step foot in the newly built home. Terayla hesitated with her timid expression, but Moko patted her shoulder. She looked up at him. He took the lead, walking toward the made house. She followed him. When he stepped foot on the brick floor, he watched Terayla catching up. Heaving her two little legs, she got on the front porch and looked at the massive door.
As Moko went to encourage her to open it, he heard disappointing mumbles from behind. He noticed the parents’ looks of dismay. Shrugging, the father glanced at the boy and shook his head. The mother had done the same, even having to recheck her System by darting her eyes around the air. Moko’s hopeful smile had uncurled. When he turned to face Terayla, she was about to grab the doorknob to open it.
He caught her hand before she could touch it. Terayla shot her head up to look at Moko, jumping at his sudden interjection. Without an exchange of words, he shook his head at her. What had been a sliver of light in her innocent eyes was substituted with bleakness. She folded her lips and drooped her head. Most hopelessly, she lowered her hand, and following Moko, she left the house.
The day ending, the family reunited in the bedroom—Terayla in Moko’s at the corridor’s end. The mother sat on the chair, rubbing her forehead. The father stood near Moko by the doorway, scratching his beard. Eyes were on the floor. The stillness dragged, feeling more weighing for someone to speak.
“Well, we tried,” Moko said, breaking the silence. He recollected everything they’d done throughout the day. “We did learn some things about her. She doesn’t know anything about why she nullifies Systems. And if she touches even the slightest thing that belongs to you, Mom and Dad, then your System gets affected. It applies to anything—like, anything.”
“It’s anything that originates from our System,” the mother replied. “Her touching objects we purchased will make the production nullified.”
Humming, he thought of something strange. “What about her clothes? She has an orange dress. If you bought her a new outfit, shouldn’t it zero the production too?”
She looked back and gave a dragging pause before saying, “We didn’t.”
A tilt of the head. “You didn’t buy it?”
“That was her original clothes. I only washed it while you were taking care of her.”
“But… the fabric tears and the plain design. I thought you gave her a new dress. It looks new.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps it was dirty to the point it obscured the original colors of the dress. Even if I were to criticize the change, I was particularly focused on why our System was not functioning properly. But if I had to think, I do wonder why her dress changed. It looked like it repaired itself.”
Moko sighed, unsure of what to think regarding her outerwear. With what had happened today, he had no room to investigate the supposed self-repairing clothes. Yet he had to ask. “Is it normal for clothes to repair itself?”
She shook her head. “The Lei Realm has nothing of that sort. If she came from a different realm, then most likely.”
–Did Terayla really come from a different realm? I plainly guessed, but after this day, it’s making me believe I’m right. Is she from the Eslane Realm after all? But the cats and self-repairing dress don’t match together. Though I can’t be the one to judge. None of us know anything outside Lei.
“Regardless,” the father said with a conclusive tone—a rather hopeless one, “it looks like she is the problem with our production. We’re certain of that now.”
The mother nodded. She faced Moko with a saddened expression. “You know what that means, right?”
Moko nodded. The mother leaned back against the chair. Silence returned and prevailed. He scratched his head, processing his thoughts as the night arrived. The sun left the horizon, darkening the land and stars hanging across the lone sky. Crickets and night critters crackled outside. Machines and gears kept running, filling in the quiet bedroom.
After some prolonged moment, Moko looked at them and said, “Mom, Dad. I didn’t say this before, but I am planning to leave here soon. Probably tomorrow morning.”
They looked at him. “You’re leaving?” The mother asked. “Have you finished what you wanted to do then?”
“Yeah,” Moko said. “I think I’ve stayed here long enough. I’ll be okay.”
“Have you had enough knocking down trees?” The father asked with a sly grin.
“Y–Yeah,” he responded. His father laughed, and Moko released a light chuckle as the man slapped his back. After the light banter, he said, “I’m ready to leave. There’s nothing much for me to do here now.”
“Alright then,” she said, giving a reassuring smile. “Seems like we need to get ready for your leave. And for Terayla, we’ll work that out somehow. Don’t worry about us.”
“Ah,” he muttered before continuing. “About that, I was thinking…”
----------------------------------------
The next morning came, and Moko stood out on the open field, stepping on the grass sprinkled with the morning dew. He gripped the large bag strapped on his back, packed with necessities his mother had stuffed in it. He put a great deal of effort into holding it up.
Terayla stood beside Moko with the four cats surrounding them. The wind brushed against her face, and the two gazed afar. The silhouette of the Domain blinded by the rising sun, lingered from the distance, and amidst the bright morning, two figures settled near the entrance with bodies facing their direction.
Moko’s parents, with their warm smiles, waved at them two. The father stood on the soil while the mother leaned against the wall of their Domain. In response to their dismissal, Moko raised his hand and waved back at them. He grinned widely, shouting their names as they spoke farewells to each other. His heart swelled as a little rush of warmth invaded his face. His throat hitched, and he kept the growing tears from falling. Terayla, in her straight expression, shyly waved, stiffly swinging her arm.
Exchanging their last goodbyes, Moko collected himself and tucked his bag tighter around him. Sighing deeply, he turned around. He trod forward on the road, reaching to the horizon. Terayla stopped waving and joined Moko, the two leaving at last from the Domain. She walked behind, looking up at him in silence. And similarly, the cats followed her in a straight line.
“M–Moko,” Terayla whispered. “Where are we going?”
“Hm,” Moko wondered, keeping his face along the path. “I don’t know.”
She tilted her head, a mild concern in her humming voice. “Are we going to see more people?”
“Probably. It’s going to be lonely if we don’t. We also need food from them. The people love to give out food.”
Moko heard the light treading footsteps behind him stop. Stopping too, he turned to see Terayla standing still with her head drooped. He grew puzzled. “Terayla?”
“I don’t,” she paused, “I don’t want to see people. They’re mean.” Raising her head and staring at Moko with her red eyes, she said with softness, “You will not leave me, are you?”
He observed the little girl staring with mild worry swarming her eyes. Moko walked up to her and took out his System from his sizeable pocket. He extracted a small cookie from it.
(–1 Cookie)
322,359 Cookies
Putting his System back, he gave the edible cookie to Terayla. She stared at the sugary dough in silence, peering back up at Moko. He inched the cookie closer, provoking her will to grab it. After taking it, Moko opened his hand and extended it towards her, wanting to hold her hand. He said with a resolute expression, “I won’t, so let’s get going.”
Terayla looked at the open palm before her. She grabbed onto the crispy cookie, inching it closer to her mouth. But before choosing to take a bite of it, she grabbed his hand first, holding it tight as she gave Moko a timid but light smile. Exchanging with his own share of brightness, he walked alongside Terayla, eating the cookie eagerly, as they embarked on their journey—the start of their long and enigmatic adventure.
322,523 Cookies
9.1 CpS
Owned: Buy: Upgrade: Cursor – 91
Cursor – 584,433 Cookies Reinforced Index Finger –
100 Cursors