“What is Earth like?”
The human answers varied in response to the question. Some like Larry and Jack talked about the planet on a global scale, talking vaguely about the 7 continents, the major countries, the many oceans, and the inhabitants of the planet. It was a simple description as if the two men were talking to an alien about an overall view of the planet. Some like Frankie, Laura, and even Nina who had woken up from her slumber talked about their homes and family. Frankie talked of her ill father and how she regrets not saying more to the old man before leaving. Laura spoke of her husband who she had recently married. Meanwhile, Nina shared about her brother and the stories she had with him, occasionally looking at Quillon with a sad face as she conversed.
As the humans continued to share about Earth, Gus noticed that on each of their faces, they were happy. In this hopeless gray desert, it was easy to forget about things like home with all the tension. Yet now, the humans were full of nostalgia, speaking of home with uplifted spirits.
Home. Do I have such a thing as a home?
Sure, Gus had the library he could call home, but that place had long since been foreign to the golem after the Merchant appeared.
When will I find my home?
As the conversation continued, more spoke up as Ronald talked of his work, Richard of his favorite pub, Doyle of his precious St. Bernard dog, and Bruno of his high school football team and how he was a star fullback back in the good old days. Neve, on the other hand, chose to remain silent like always yet even she appeared to be reminiscing.
The last two who were yet to answer were now both Cricket and Marco. Curious, Gus decided to ask Cricket first.
“How’s Earth? Depends on where you live. Depends on what you were born into. Some places can be great. Some places are terrible. Many would require wealth to be happy or have good connections. If I were to describe it…Earth is diverse. It’s both great and terrible, it just all falls to the fate of what you were handed at birth. After that, it’s up to you to figure out how to deal with your struggles and what to make with them,” Cricket said with no uncertainty.
“Pragmatic as always, Cricket. But I would like to think about things optimistically,” Marco countered, “I think that Earth could be what you want to make of it. Of course, you need allies, conviction, and a touch of luck to get things done, but there is always hope at the end of the tunnel.”
“Life’s more complicated than that. It’s not a fairy tale. Many people have chased that American dream yet still failed,” Cricket retorted.
“Yet even then…”
While the two continued to argue, Larry scoffed and looked at Gus in an arrogant fashion before commenting.
“Oh boy, it's always getting political with huma—agh! What was that for!?” Larry yelped after being pinched by Frankie.
“Shhh… it's good for the golem to learn about this. Doesn’t Gus want to learn more about humans? Well, this is a perfect opportunity for that,” Frankie whispered.
And Gus had to agree. The moments were enlightening to the golem. Not only was he learning about the human perspective of Earth, but he was also gaining insight into human society as a whole. When else would Gus learn of such things in this empty hazardous world?
It was only after some time did the group finally died down. By the time the exchange of questions ended, many of the humans were already falling asleep in the sands, no longer showing the signs of caution they once did around Gus.
Remembering the question he wanted to ask Cricket, Gus waited till most of the humans were asleep before approaching Cricket and Marco who had yet to join their companions.
“You want to know about our summoning words?’ Marco whispered, surprised at the question Gus just asked.
“Why would you need to know about P.G.R.s, Gus?” Cricket followed too in a low voice.
“It's… I feel like I can discover something about myself here soon if I just find out how summoning words works. Please, I just need to know the basics,” Gus pleaded.
“Hmmm…well, I can tell you this. Myself, and many others in our group, agreed that a P.G.R. only needs two words to be thought of to be summoned. Once repeated, a picture of your P.G.R. will appear in your head, and all you need to do is visualize it in real life. Only then, could a P.G.R. be summoned and materialize as something tangible,” Marco explained.
“The issue, I imagine you also share, is that we don’t have that *cough* instinctual calling to the words needed for summoning. This is most likely because of the Merchant’s influence that allowed the others to find theirs so easily. It’s why I still haven’t received mine,” Cricket said in a low voice, “Fortunately that book I was provided back at the library just for this gave some examples of how to find our summoning words. Like Marco said, all we need is two words. They have to be something both integral to us and to the weapon we have. The issue is that without knowing your weapon, it's hard to find the word to describe it. You can’t really describe nothing, can you? Speaking of, what are your summoning words, Marco?”
“Mine…is a bit embarrassing to say,” Marco shyly said.
“Ah, c'mon, it can’t be that bad,” Cricket pressed on with a grin.
“It really is, though. Yet…I suppose I should share to help the two of you find yours. My summoning words are Selfish Determination. It does not really fit a weapon called Pistol of Honor, doesn’t it?
“Ha! ‘Selfish’? I think it might be on to something, Marco,” Cricket laughed.
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Marco only shook his head in response, yet his bright red ears betrayed his efforts to hide the embarrassment.
Still…this should be enough for now.
“Thank you, both of you, this has helped me a great deal. I feel like I’m one step closer to something very important,” Gus thanked.
“It’s only fair we help you after all the help you have provided us. We wouldn’t be alive if not for you,” Marco said.
“Thanks…but my debt is still not paid.”
And that was all Gus said before leaving, walking away from the human group to stand watch from above a dune.
***
Nova…Emergency Nova? Golem Nova? Starry Nova? Super Nova? No, no, this isn’t working. It could be just about anything. Hm? Anything? Then couldn’t I just brute force this? There are only so many words that exist. Let’s start with aardvark aardvark. Aardvark aardwolf? Aardvark…
Repeating the dictionary in rapid fire, Gus took a seat on the sand as he devoted a portion of his consciousness to repeating words from the English dictionary at incredible levels of speed. Still, despite being able to think of hundreds of words in a second, Gus knew this method would take him far too long to be helpful in this journey. The amount of possibilities felt almost endless. After thirty minutes, Gus’s mind began to wander, thinking of other things while a part of his consciousness continued to list more words.
Too many crazy things have been happening to me lately, that I haven’t been able to stop and think about all these other mysteries I have going on. Like that book about Havory. What is that? At first, I thought it was suggesting I was living in a book, but after some thinking, that’s just ridiculous. As if I’m just some character in a book! It’s more likely that the book was about prophecies and other important information Syuna found useful for me to know. The Merchant itself spoke of Syuna’s expertise in reading the future. But then that begs the question. Why can’t I remember it except for specific instances?
Using his finger to draw in the sand, Gus began to outline his thoughts into words as he continued to think.
If I think about it, isn’t it similar to how Nova erased those memories of mine to protect me from that terrible future the Merchant had shown me? Then does that mean I am just not ready to see the contents of that book, and that is why she is holding off on giving me all the answers right away? That theory would make the most sense, considering that I almost died just from peering at the Merchant’s clairvoyant’s power, and Syuna’s is most likely more detailed than that creature’s. If this is the case, unlocking these memories of the prophecies would be hard to do. How can I be ready to face an unspeakable future until it actually happens to me? Wouldn’t it be too late then?
Outlining his questions into a constructive model, Gus noticed his creation was eerily similar to that of the work that abyssal human had once done in his dream of the messy room.
Speaking of, what are those dreams? They surely aren’t normal, none of the other humans have dreams like mine. I once thought they were merely memories of my past life, but something feels off about that claim now.
Outlining another chart, Gus wrote seven boxes into the sand, each one describing one of the seven dreams he would experience at night.
I can still remember that moment. When that human spoke to me as if it knew of my inner thoughts, of what I was. Those dreams hold a key, I’m not sure for what, but they must be an answer to something.
In each box, each dream was listed just as he remembered:
The Messy Room
The City
The Classroom Girl
The Birthday Party
The Burning House
The Hospital Bed
The Factory
Gus throughout the years has drawn up theories of each of the dreams in an attempt to answer why each one might have been important to himself in his past life. Yet none of those theories ever felt as close and real as his recently made conclusion on what the dream of the Messy Room represented.
That room, Gus believed, must have belonged to his past self. The reason for this idea is that out of the seven dreams, Gus always found the room oddly comforting and familiar, as if he himself had lived there once before. Yet that was not all. Despite not understanding what the mysterious equation the abyssal human was writing on the board, Gus could tell from other sources within the room that the abyssal human had but only one obsession. A star. Not just any star, but a star that was hidden from all eyes except for one. The abyssal human was studying Syuna. After interacting with the humans, Gus came to realize that they had never once seen a second star of blue flames like Syuna in the sky before. This could only mean one thing. The abyssal human must have been the past self of Gus himself. Or at the very least, someone very similar to him.
That’s only one of seven dreams so far that I can deduce accurately. And even then, I still have no clue what the formula on the board was for. There could be countless more in the dream for all I know.
Feeling his consciousness begin to hurt from a mixture of anxious thoughts and the prolonged listing of dictionary words that he was still continuing, Gus put his finger to a pause and turned his attention to the desert as a break from the stress.
Is there even a point in thinking of all this? All it does is create more issues for me. And I already have a lot to deal with. Like what are these desert inhabitants? Why are they attacking us? What’s in the wagon? Why do we need to go to the fortress? What is this world? It’s too much…
Watching the moving clouds of lightning in the sky, Gus could feel the questions build and build, yet with no outlet for his imagination and curiosity, only frustration remained.
I wish someone would just come and give me an answer already!
Unfortunately, life was never that easy.
…Balloon anteater? Ugh…this is going nowhere. I have a bad feeling these summoning words are going to be something really stupid at this rate. Syuna was never the best name-giver now that I think about it. She would call the books in the library names like “Teacher Calculus” or “Professor European History”. She even called my test-taking desk “Buddy Desk”. Ha… it's strange. Thinking about her like this feels oddly…lonely.
The sunless sky above seemed empty, making the desert somehow even more lonely than it already once was.
I bet you would name Nova’s summoning words something silly like Mother Nova. Well…probably not mother since you would only consider yourself as my mom. Maybe…Caretaker Nova? Something like a Nanny since you're currently absent. Wait…don’t tell me…don’t tell me my summoning words are NANNY NOVA.
* < | Password Entered! Systems activating… | > *
By the stars…Syuna, why would you choose such a corny name?!
* < | Pleased to meet you, Gus | > *
Don’t say it.
* < | I am your assistant and emergency service… | > *
Don’t!
* < | Nanny Nova | > *
Damn it!