“Why is this happening? Why another burst?” - I wondered.
She didn't reply right away. Instead, she held some magic dust in her hand, letting it trickle through her fingers as if toying with it. Afterward, she lifted her head and gazed at the ever-expanding magic bubble, which was now reaching cataclysmic proportions.
"It probably has something to do with the way we are," another voice echoed in my head, providing an answer.
I was taken aback by the voice. It wasn't the fact that I was hearing voices that surprised me, but rather that it was Cala's voice, one I hadn't heard in this context before. To my astonishment, Flo responded as well, within my mind, and I could hear her too. It seemed that the divide between us, enabling their separate conversations, had vanished.
Flo nodded in agreement.
"You may be onto something, Cala," she acknowledged. "Bringing someone with you during the ritual is a risky move, as one of you would end up as nothing but dust. There have been instances where a double burst occurred if two people were inside the area and both survived the initial blast. It was a method known to potentially yield greater power for the very brave or insane, but it was fraught with uncertainty. You never knew who would emerge stronger after the first burst and would thus have better chances to survive the second. I didn't... I wasn't aware that we wouldn't be considered as one person, but it appears to be the case. One consequence is that we've become fused more closely together. In our current state, we can no longer separate; the blast has completely intertwined us."
Only now, was she thinking about it? But there was no point in getting agitated; it was already too late.
"If we're so mixed up, why is another blast happening?" Cala inquired aloud this time.
I shrugged, and to my surprise, I could physically shrug. I felt as much in control as White Flower was.
"Perhaps not thoroughly enough. It's possible that there are still some lingering disparities causing the subsequent blast," White Flower answered.
“How bad will it be?” - I wondered about the severity of the impending third blast.
White Flower reclined, gazing upward at the magnificent exhibition of chaotic energy surrounding us. A grin adorned her face as she whimsically etched an angel in the dust using her hands and legs, waving them up and down. Then, she rose to inspect her artistic creation. Was this some sort of symbolic response?
"As you can observe, these explosions escalate exponentially," she eventually replied. "You've witnessed the disparity between the first and the second blast; that should provide you with an inkling of what's on the horizon."
Content with her explanation, she settled back into the dust, reclining to observe the sky.
"Oh, would you look at that!" Cala exclaimed.
High in the sky, the ever-expanding streak of lightning appeared to stretch towards the heavens, and a line from one filament seemed to be bending and making contact with the bubble. It was certainly in motion, but did they truly connect?
White Flower took a deep breath.
"You could say Deimos is giving us a hand!" she exclaimed.
"I thought our demise was guaranteed; maybe he just winked at us?" wondered Cala.
We laughed. We were all completely at ease, waiting for the inevitable. At least on this, the three of us agreed; there was nothing we could do, and it wouldn't affect what was about to happen.
As the bubble began to collapse, I took a deep breath... and that's all I remember.
I had slept soundly, a deep and rejuvenating slumber that left me feeling completely refreshed. It might have been the best sleep I'd ever experienced.
With a languid stretch of my arms and legs, I sensed the dust gently sliding over my body. Gradually, I rose to my feet, and a rustling sound akin to scales on sand accompanied my movement. My wings briefly battled the air before I was propelled upwards.
In the sky, Deimos unfurled its magical tendrils, stretching across the horizon with stars twinkling amidst them. I let out a yawn while stretching my back.
"Good morning, Deimos!" I exclaimed aloud.
You know that saying about how when chickens hatch, they bond with the first living being they see and think it's their mother? Or wait, maybe that's about ducks?
Anyway, why do I get the strange feeling that I'm Deimos's offspring? Am I a duck in this scenario?
I could hear my heart thumping in my chest, and a broad smile crossed my face, grateful for the gift of life. My wings had come to a halt, and I descended gently onto the balls of my feet.
Beneath me, the dust felt plush, enfolding my feet like a tender embrace. I scanned my surroundings, finding myself at the heart of an immense caldera. The patterns etched into the dust around me resembled intricate runes intertwined with hieroglyphs, a perplexing tapestry that sent my mind spinning. Was that just my imagination?
I shook my head, admonishing myself: "Don't attempt to comprehend chaos," I whispered.
There were simpler questions I should use my mind for, like who was I? Did "Lores" define my identity? It was the first name that surfaced in my thoughts, but there were others, too. And what should I do?
Should I linger here and immerse myself in meditation? This place offered all the essentials: solitude, silence, and magic.
It was an enticing thought! I had a reservoir of magical power at my disposal, but I had an inkling that it required a considerable amount of honing before it became genuinely useful. To put it figuratively, I was at risk of blowing my own nose if I accidentally sneezed.
Alternatively, should I venture back into the other realm and explore it? It sounded like labor, yet it was also promisingly enjoyable.
Was that world more substantial than this one? An odd conviction whispered that it was, even if my instincts argued otherwise. Regardless, that demanded scrutiny, didn't it?
Yes, I decided. I will embark on this journey.
"Goodbye, Deimos! I'm setting off for an expedition!" I exclaimed, waving toward the dark star. Then, I cast the spell, and a shimmering aura of light and magic enveloped me.
A thunderous blast reverberated through the building as I materialized; my left foot inadvertently obliterated the toilet, sending porcelain shards flying. I teetered perilously, nearly landing unceremoniously on my rear end. The bathroom floor was instantly awash with water from the shattered toilet. In my frantic struggle to regain balance, my wings thrashed against the walls, and my claws gouged deep holes in the tiled walls, creating an unpleasant, sharp, scraping noise.
I chuckled foolishly, making an effort not to lose my footing in the cramped space. At last, I steadied myself and gingerly swung open the door, which now clung precariously to a single hinge. I found myself face to face with a startled elderly man who clutched a baseball bat in his trembling hand.
After a couple of seconds, recognizing the old Asian cook, I raised my hand and said: "Hi!".
He immediately lowered his head, and the bat clattered to the ground. "Oh, my apologies, ma'am!"
He dropped to his knees, not daring to meet my gaze.
I stood there, pondering how to exit the cramped room without having to step over him.
"Could you kindly make way? I'd like to leave," I finally said.
"Of course," he replied, crawling backward on all fours.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I couldn't help but snort.
"Enough of this charade. Why are you doing this?" I asked, somewhat bewildered.
"The less I see, the less I could be compelled to disclose," he responded, now back on his feet but avoiding eye contact.
I scrutinized him closely but couldn't detect any trace of magic. He was entirely devoid of magical abilities, a "muggle" in Harry Potter terms. I shrugged; his explanation did hold some logic, so I let it slide.
"What day is it today?" I inquired as I stepped cautiously out of the restroom and into the narrow hallway leading to the main room.
"It's Monday morning," he replied.
In the spacious dining area, the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side, and the room was tidied up.
So, only one night had elapsed since I was here with the boys. It was somewhat disappointing; I had the sensation that days if not weeks, had gone by.
"What happened after I left?" I asked.
He appeared to know exactly who I was and what I was talking about.
"The three gentlemen debated whether to call the police or not. They wanted to launch an investigation into the restaurant. One of them even thought I had kidnapped you."
As I heard some cracking noise from behind, I raised an eyebrow.
"Do you live here alone?" I inquired.
He shook his head in denial.
"No, with my niece, but please leave her out of this."
It was the first time I sensed a hardening in his tone. The old man would fiercely protect his niece.
I allowed my aura to expand, instantly gaining insight into the entire environment. Even the neighbors, one, two, or three levels above.
I sighed. Sometimes, too much information doesn't help. I tried to focus on the restaurant and the apartment connected to it.
A domain, as it's called, is essentially the area that your magic can freely check. If you have good control over magic, a delicate bubble filled with your magic can provide you with a three-dimensional imprint of everything within that area. I now had a domain that stretched up to a hundred meters in all directions.
"I need to practice my domain a bit," I muttered, mostly to myself, finally seeing her.
His niece was a twelve-year-old girl, currently huddled behind the door, clutching her plush bear, and too afraid to make a sound. I could even feel her racing heartbeats.
I attempted to defuse the situation.
"I have no intention of harming you or your niece," I said, then turned towards the wrecked toilet. "I'm sorry about the mess. I'll cover the cost of the damage."
"No need," he replied with a shrug.
I could tell he wanted as little to do with me as possible.
"Did anything else occur after I left?"
"No," he responded. "I closed the restaurant after they left."
There was a hint of hesitation in his voice that I found unsettling.
"Would you mind opening the windows?" I asked.
He seemed somewhat surprised by my request.
"The large windows?" he inquired, and I nodded.
As he went about opening them, I pressed further.
"Did anything else happen that I should be aware of?"
He vehemently shook his head in denial, but I could sense he was lying. I let out a sigh and cast a sidelong glance at him.
Droplets of sweat started to form on his temples.
"Well..." - he said
"Well?" I pressed.
He offered a shrug.
"Are you some kind of celebrity?... I mean... Ahhh... There was a man who came by after your friends left. He asked a few questions about you and the gentlemen, but I told him we were closed and knew nothing. I didn't think it was important... That was it, really!"
I nodded, knowing he didn't lie this time. Maybe it was not important, but I preferred to know. I flapped my wings and took to the air. Simultaneously, I activated a mirror to conceal myself. To my surprise, the camouflage rendered me completely invisible, in a manner I couldn't entirely comprehend, as though I were slipping away from this reality.
"You haven't seen anything," - I whispered in his ear, startling him.
A gust of wind whisked through the room as I took flight.
Out of the room, up in the air, I hesitated for a couple of seconds, looking around.
If I were to assume this Lores persona, I should check her home.
I wasn't Lores, not Cala, not White Flower. Who was I? I shrugged. I didn't need a new name; Lores was sufficient for now.
Instead of worrying about what people should call me, I should simply enjoy what I am. Flying is so cool!
I watched the suburbs defiling effortlessly under me, watching with interest the nightlife. It's a different perspective from up there!
As I landed near my home, I deployed another mirror over me to make me look like Dolores, and again, the transformation surprised me: it seemed as though I had been walking, out of thin air, into reality.
Physically, I became Dolores; it wasn't just a mirror concealing me. I had no horns no wings, and my domain shrank dramatically to a few meters around me.
I sighed and shook worried my head. I needed to be cautious with these mirror spells; what was happening now was a different spell; somehow, it physically transformed me, functioning like a transformation spell.
As I raised my head towards my window, I sighed once more as I found myself standing completely naked outside the house with nothing to conceal me. What do I do now? Do I climb the tree as a naked ape?
White Flower used to have an inventory tattooed on her skin, but that had been completely wiped out during the node bursts. All her possessions, all those relics, now reduced to dust within the node. Cala's inventory was inside the room up there.
I hesitated, unsure whether to clothe myself with illusory garments, being uncertain about how the spells would function.
Daylight was already streaming in from the East, so it wouldn't bode well for me to be discovered like this in the park. I needed to move quickly.
I began to ascend the tree, a relatively simple task. A sense of nostalgia washed over me as I peered into the room: my small kingdom of the last year. I pushed the window open and slipped inside.
The odor hit me immediately, reminiscent of fried 'something.' I approached my computer and discovered that it was switched off, yet the smell seemed to emanate from it. What now?
I was about to step out of the room to investigate when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. It occurred to me that I should probably put on some clothes first.
I rummaged through the wardrobe, found a suitable dress, and quickly got dressed before leaving the room. Light spilled from the kitchen, so I headed in that direction.
"Good morning!" Clara greeted me from behind a plate of cereal and milk. She shook the cereal box in the air and asked, "Would you like some?"
"Morning! No thanks," I replied. I hated cereals, and I figured she knew that. For me, breakfast meant ham, eggs, and some veggies. In my usual direct manner, I cut to the chase. "What happened to my computer?"
"You don't know?" she asked, looking surprised. Then, she opened a website on her tablet and handed it over to me. "This should explain it."
I took the tablet hesitantly. What could a tablet tell me about my computer? Was this some sort of elaborate prank? I began reading the links she had forwarded me and was surprised to find that they indeed offered an explanation for the damage to my burnt-out PC.
I gave her a brief glance and then resumed reading. She smiled at me, oblivious to the fact that she had been in serious danger of being transformed into a frog or something equally random, considering my mood.
The links she had shared had a series of alarming titles: "Dreamland Catastrophe!" "PCs Armageddon!" "Is the catastrophe global?" "This is the end of Dreamland!" "Dreamland goes down in smoke! Literally!"
All of these posts were recent, with the most recent being only a few minutes old. However, they all revolved around the same alarming theme: it appeared that all computers connected to or supporting Dreamland in some way had mysteriously caught fire. While the exact cause wasn't clear yet, a pattern was emerging—countless PCs were smoking ruins, and all seemed to have had a connection to Dreamland.
I took a deep breath, momentarily wondering if my explosive display at the death node could somehow be linked to this computer catastrophe. The idea was amusing, but as spectacular as my little show had been in that world, it couldn't possibly have caused such widespread havoc in this world. Or could it? I could hardly imagine the process, but who knows? That was still a possibility.
However, it seemed more likely that someone was making a concerted effort to bring an end to the Dreamland experiment.
"You and your PC, you could have killed us! The house could have burned down while we slept!" she erupted in anger, returning to her true self.
She had sounded far too rational before. I shook my head, simply brushed off her outburst, and continued reading.
"Did Dreamland accidentally trigger the kill switch?"
Now, we were getting into the juicier posts, but these were frequently downgraded and disappeared on the heavily controlled social media.
The kill switch! There was a theory that every chip had one, but I wouldn't find any substantial articles on the officially sanctioned sites. Who could have triggered the kill switch for all PCs connected to Dreamland, and more importantly, why? The game was no longer accessible, at least not officially. I needed to access a different site, perhaps a gamer's forum, to dig deeper into this mystery. But certainly not on her tablet.
"I got up when your PC caught fire!" she continued her tirade. "I guess we were lucky that I smelled it and turned it off before a catastrophe happened!"
It was clear she was lying. If I hadn't been a living lie detector, I might have fallen for her act. This ploy might have worked with Dolores, making her feel guilty, but it held no sway over me.
Should I blast her to Nirvana for the insolence of lying to me?
"You didn't smell a thing; there's no odor in the house," I calmly clarified. "You simply went to my room to check if I was home. Only then did you notice the PC and turned it off hours after the fact."
Her eyes widened in shock.
"You couldn't... You haven't been here, so you can't possibly know how it happened! It could have been a disaster! You really should shut down your PC when you're away. It's a fire hazard!"
I shrugged. "I'll give you a seven for the performance." Then, I gestured toward her tablet. "Do you turn off your tablet when you're done reading?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Why bother? It takes forever to reboot!"
"The risk of fire is higher with its batteries. My PC had water cooling and SSD disks, but no flammable batteries."
"Your PC burned! It could have burned down the house!"
I shrugged. "Stop it. It's not funny anymore."
"It was on fire!" Her tone grew more intense. "It could have harmed us! You've put us in danger!"
Now, she was returning to her familiar self. I rolled my eyes and returned her tablet with a casual shrug.
"Did you have a good party?" she inquired, changing suddenly the tone, then added before I could answer: "A guy was here and left a message for you."
I raised an eyebrow. Who could it have been?
She handed me a note.
I sighed, unfolding the note. It was obvious that she had already read it.
"I hope you're doing well! Here's my phone number: xxx-xxx-xxxx; let's catch up soon! - Hew.
P.S. We're planning to meet up tomorrow evening at my cabin; you're welcome to join us!"