Jacob’s fifth death came by suffocation. Moraine had Ties That Bind reach inside him and constrict his lungs until his consciousness left him.

Back in the forest, he steered his steps towards a destination without really thinking about it. It wouldn’t benefit him at all as far as he could tell, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Sonny stood with his hand against the pale, bark-stripped trunk of a gnarled tree, his gaze faraway as though absorbed in thought.

Jacob cleared his throat. “Nice tree, is it?”

Sonny spun around, revolver drawn. When he realized who it was, he slowly lowered the weapon. “Oh, Jacob. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Fancy that.”

“Do the trees sound like they’re talking to you?”

Jacob looked around at the accused. If anything, his problem was that they were too quiet—not so much as a rustle of leaves on the wind. “No, can’t say that they do.”

“I see.” Sonny put away his weapon and gave a sheepish smile.

“But Fenway said something like that, too. That the trees were speaking to her.”

Sonny lit up. “You met her? Is she all right?”

Jacob nodded. “She’s her usual self, I would say. Actually, I’m here about her. She’s leaving this place soon, if she hasn’t already.”

“Oh.”

“So if you want to see her, now would be the time.”

“But I don’t know the way.”

“Just walk and keep thinking about her. You’ll make it.”

“I tried that, at first. It didn’t work.”

“Huh.” Jacob scratched at his head. “Maybe you’re just really bad at it.”

“Probably,” Sonny said with a sigh. He sank down against the trunk of the tree he’d been molesting.

“Sonny, I’m gonna be honest with you, man. I still have no idea how you became an S-Rank.”

“They understand me,” Sonny murmured, his ear pressed to the trunk. “The trees. They forgive me.”

Jacob made a face. He bent down and dragged Sonny up by his shirt. When the dead hero refused to stand, Jacob kept holding him until he finally put his feet down with a heavy sigh.

“Why are you doing this? I just want to hear them out.”

“Remember that thing you told me about the paper man and the cutout? And how the cutout eventually disappears, too? Yeah, that’s happening to you.” Jacob shoved Sonny away, sent him stumbling. “I’ve seen what happens when you keep listening to these fucking things. You get roots growing into your ears. Do you want roots growing into your ears?”

Sonny glanced at the nearest tree and sidled a few careful steps away from it. “No?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Come on, let’s go.” Jacob started walking. He didn’t look back to see if he was being followed.

“Wait! Where you going?”

After a few seconds, Jacob could hear rustling undergrowth as the dead hero came after him. “Where are we going?” he asked, falling into step.

“We’re going to see your ex.”

Sonny stopped again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It might be best to leave her be.”

“Why?”

“Pretty sure she doesn’t want to see me.”

Jacob halted atop a moss-slick rock and spun around. “Didn’t you say life is pointless without a woman or some nonsense like that? Why should death be any different?”

“Well, I fucked it up. More than once. The best thing I can do now is just leave her be.”

“Oh my God, man. I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re making it so difficult. I really don’t care enough to put up with all this self-loathing.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No, but you absolutely need it.” Jacob pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “I’m going to see Fenway now. You can come with me, or you can stay and become a shitty moss man. Your choice.”

Sonny was quiet, thumbing the handle of his revolver.

“This really isn’t a choice you should have to think about. She’s waiting for you, Tom. Don’t leave her hanging.”

“She’s waiting for me?” Sonny asked. “She said that?”

Jacob shrugged. “Not in so many words, but she doesn’t strike me as the type of person who says what she means. Not about herself.”

“Then how do you know?”

“The dress, Tom. You should have seen her dress.”

Sonny cracked a big grin. “You think I can un-fuck myself?”

“I think if you don’t try, you’re gonna become a moss man. So why not give it a shot?”

He nodded. Little, uncertain nods at first, then bigger, more confident, until his whole torso was bobbing up and down. “Okay. Yeah, fuck it, why not? Let’s go see Jen.”

And on they went.

Sonny found a bottle of High Ambrosia whiskey along the way, tucked in a cradle of roots. He was good at finding alcohol in the Forgotten Green, if nothing else. He drank a few mouthfuls ‘to calm his nerves’ and threw the rest away. Restraint.

They came to the edge of the clearing. Jacob peered over some bushes towards the pond, and sure enough, Fenway was still sitting there in her white dress, splashing her feet in the water.

“You’re on,” he said, giving Sonny’s shoulder a clap. “I’ll let you do this one-on-one.”

“Wait, how’s my breath?”

It smelled like whiskey, but he said it was fine.

Jacob sat down on a fallen log and watched the dead hero plod across the clearing, dragging his feet. Fenway turned her head to regard him, when he was about halfway, watched him in silence until he got close.

“You’re here,” she said.

“Uh, yeah. I came to find you.”

“Your clothes are dirty.”

Sonny looked down at himself, arms out at his sides. “Look at that, so they are.”

She sighed and raised her voice to a half-shout. “Mr. Sorenson, you can come out!”

All right. I tried.

Jacob went out and joined them. Fenway greeted him with a curt nod. She had added delicate blue flowers to her hair. She must have gone out of her way to find them, because Jacob sure hadn’t seen any around.

He didn’t need to ask how she’d known he was there. She figured, quite correctly, that Sonny couldn’t have found her on his own.

“I had a feeling you’d still be here,” Jacob said, unable to hold back a little smile.

“I have a feeling you haven’t avenged us yet.”

“Still working on that.”

“Get to it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Starman and the Red Right Hand. I’ll get around to it.”

Fenway cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap. “I’ll have you know, I waited because I figured out another detail I thought you should know.”

She glanced towards Sonny, who took that as his cue.

“You look beautiful,” he said with an uncertain smile. “Death suits you.”

Fenway immediately took the flowers out of her hair. She made to toss them out over the water, but hesitated, and let them rest in her lap. “And you’ve graduated to looking slightly more human than your colleague, so that’s a definite improvement.”

“A backhanded compliment and an insult in one sentence, how efficient,” Jacob said.

“I strive for excellence in all things.” She stood and looked at Jacob expectantly. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Do you want to know what I’ve learned?”

“It sounded like you were in the middle of something.”

“I am not.”

“If you say so. Fire away.”

She finally tossed the flowers onto the pond, where they drifted around on the still surface. “You obviously failed to get through last time.”

Jacob nodded. “Drowning wasn’t very fun. I blame you for that.”

“Stop whining. I can’t help that you’re a perfect test subject.”

“You sound like a certain evil scientist I know.”

“Pure delusion on your part, I’m sure. Ask me why you didn’t get through.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Tell me, o’ wise sphinx, why didn’t I get through?”

“Because you sank too deep.”

“Because I sank too deep?”

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

Sonny walked to the edge of the water. He bent down and dipped his hand in, waving it back and forth to upset the surface. “Jen, you’re going in here?”

“Yes I am.”

“To get to the next place?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you think you’ll find there?”

“Some answers, at the very least.”

“What if it’s worse than here?”

“Then I’ll suffer for my choice. But at least I’ll have made one. There’s only stagnation here.”

“So what’s the secret?” Sonny asked. “Is it a test?”

Fenway nodded. “It’s a test. You sink all the way down. Then you let go of your regrets.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Metaphorically speaking, right?” Jacob asked.

“Metaphorically and physically. You let it leak out when you exhale. The watcher will eat it. Then you’ll rise back to the surface, except you’ll be someplace different.”

“Oookay, that’s very specific. Did you learn all that from watching me drown?”

“Obviously not. I beat the dragonfly in a game of riddles and he told me.”

“Obviously,” both Jacob and Sonny said at once. They knew better than to question it.

That’s a shame. I don’t think I’m quite ready to let go of my regrets, metaphorically or otherwise.

Sonny scooped one of the flowers out of the water. He walked over to Fenway and stuck it back through her hair. She allowed it. “Then let’s go,” he said, “before we turn into moss men.”

Fenway frowned at him. “What’s a moss man?”

“It’s a… don’t worry about it. When we get to Hell, will you let me take you out?”

“No.” She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her dress. “But if you get us through Hell, I might revise my judgment. Shooting that gun is all you’re good at, so at least kill a few thousand demons for me.”

He grinned, flashing white teeth. “I can do that.”

Arms outstretched, he fell backwards into the water, setting the blue flowers whirling around. Within moments, he’d sunk so far that he was just a diffuse blotch of colors through the rippling surface. A few bubbles breached the surface, then there was calm.

“Idiot!” Fenway shouted, rushing to the edge of the pond. “He should have—”

“Goodbye, Fenway,” Jacob said, and kicked her in the back. She went flying in after the dead hero, and he watched until there was no longer any sign of them. “Good luck, you two. Sorry I can’t come with you.”

He turned and left the pond, couldn’t help but smile to himself.

I’ve got plenty of regrets, but maybe I just dealt with one of them.

While I’m at it, why not knock another one off the list?

Jacob went looking for Bob. He figured the cleaner bot would probably have a hard time wrapping his autistic processing unit around a place like this.

But despite searching for hours, Jacob found no sign of him. Not so much as a fallen screw. He got tired. Kept walking anyway. The sky started spinning. His legs gave out and he fell face-first, unable to get up again.

No Bob. That meant one of three things, as far as Jacob could tell. Either Sonny was right and robots didn’t have souls, or he’d been shuttled to a different afterlife than the Forgotten Green—maybe there was a Robo-Heaven.

Or he wasn’t dead.

Jacob had never liked the sentient tin can much, but as he closed his eyes, he found himself wishing for the last option.

If you’re out there, Bob… keep Becca safe until I get back.

*****

More time in the white cell. Resurrection, while it tended to completely heal his body, did nothing for his hunger or his malnourishment. The clothes he’d been given on arrival already hung loose. He felt like a shrunken old raisin. Even more so than his usual corpsey self. The paste they gave him never got any easier to swallow, like semi-edible cement, but he never skipped a meal. Couldn’t afford to.

On rare occasions, the uniforms came in and made him strip so they could hose him with water. Those became like his weeks. There were usually a handful of eat-sleep cycles for every wash-cycle, between five and seven.

The next time Moraine came, she brought a tray of food with her. He caught the scent before she came through the door. It was nothing fancy, just carrots, potatoes, and a bit of beef in brown sauce, but right then it looked like a feast beyond compare.

She placed the tray on the floor in front of him. “Hello, Jacob.”

He could only stare at the food from his spot on the wall. The potatoes were still steaming hot. “Yes, hello,” he bit out.

She made him describe his last journey through the afterlife in great detail while the potatoes and carrots and beef lay between them. It took maybe half an hour. He couldn’t look at anything else the whole time.

Then she let him down off the wall and told him to have at it. To his shame, he got on his knees and ate with his hands like a savage, stuffing handfuls in his mouth. It had gone cold, but he didn’t care. Since she hadn’t provided any cutlery, that was likely what she had intended. Just another form of humiliation.

But the meal was filling, and it tasted good. The first decent, solid food he’d tasted in a good long while. His undead stomach rumbled and churned, unhappy with such a large contribution. He ignored that. Moraine held out a napkin, but he licked his mouth clean and did the same with his hands.

“You shouldn’t eat too quickly, Jacob,” Moraine said. “It makes you bloated.”

“Funny,” Jacob said around his fingers as he dug a bit of gristle out of his teeth.

With his cuffs disabled, he considered making another attempt to wring her neck, but they would probably just activate again like they had before. It was hard to tell if she controlled them herself, or if there was an operator somewhere looking at the room through hidden cameras, or if it was a partially automated system. Even if he managed to get to her, what would he do once she was dead? He would still be trapped in the cell, and they would get another scientist to torment him. But if he took her hostage, if he got right up close, they wouldn’t be able to trigger the cuffs before he could kill her. He could negotiate his release. She seemed important enough.

But her Blessing makes that difficult. If I’m in grappling range, she could send those arms into me quick. I don’t know what I’d do about that.

“Jacob, that’s quite a fearsome look in your eye,” Moraine said with a gentle smile. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Not when we’re getting along so well.”

She was looking him in the eye. Up close, too. She hadn’t reacted at all. Fully acclimatized.

Jacob slowly got to his feet and kicked the tray aside. Stared her down. Sized her up. Like a beaten dog with its owner.

It won’t work.

It won’t work.

I need better odds.

Next time, I’ll ask her to take me out of the cell. Trot me around the facility or something. I’ll do it then.

Jacob slowly raised his hands, palms open, in a half-hearted gesture of peace. “No worries, doctor. I was just feeling a little bloated.”

She laughed at that. “Of course, Jacob. I know you’re a good boy. I don’t even need to use these, do I?” She motioned at his hands and feet. “We’re past that now.”

Jacob gave a small nod. “Sure.”

“Great! And because you’ve been doing so well, I’m here with a bit of a proposition.”

“Of what sort?”

“I’m going to give you the sales pitch, Jacob.”

“You mean the ‘join our evil cult’ sales pitch?”

“That’s the one, yes. Will you hear me out?”

“Do I get a choice?”

“Not really,” she said with an exaggerated pout. She seated herself cross-legged on the floor, surprisingly nimble for her age. Maybe she had some Finesse. “Sit, sit. I insist.”

Jacob blew a sharp breath through flared nostrils, holding back a sudden wave of homicidal rage. Something about sitting down with his torturer like he was in kindergarten.

But he swallowed those feelings and sat anyway.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, humanity’s place in the cosmos is fragile and uncertain. Just look at the First Draconic War or the recent urgek invasion. Users are the only ones who can maintain our illusion of peace. Paragon above all. But there’s only one Paragon. She can’t be everywhere.

“You’ve heard the famous number, yes? Zero point zero zero one percent. The amount of Users out of the general population. The basic goal of the Red Right Hand is to make more of them. To usher in a new golden age for humanity.”

“By killing people and torturing children,” Jacob interjected.

“For the greater good.”

“I don’t know if your band name’s too accurate. I think both your hands are plenty red.”

“Oh, stow away that biting wit, Jacob. This is a serious conversation. Yes, the plan is to kill people. A lot of them. Lessers, we call them. The ones that don’t matter, we tell ourselves. Those of us with less stomach for dark work need that lie to keep moving forward. But mass murderers is what we are. I, for one, accept that.

“The plan is this. We have been developing a nanite virus that will be released into the atmosphere. It will spread, and it will kill people, but it will do so slowly. Clinical trials have confirmed that this will make people Snap at a greatly increased rate due to various highly specific physical strains the virus places on the body. Once a person infected with the virus Snaps and grows their inner eye, the nanites will detect this and render themselves inert.

“Monstrous. That’s what you’re thinking, I’m sure. But this is the projection. Ninety-nine percent of the population, worldwide, will die. Awful. Sad. The remaining one percent will become Users.

“One percent, Jacob. That’s over one hundred million Users. Imagine what humanity could do with that kind of power. Imagine how many more Paragons we would breed through this process. The Arantharans would beg us for mercy. The urgeks would be exterminated. The void would be paved away.”

Jacob let all that sit for a while. “So, uh… Sage’s new prediction, the thing about the world ending. That’s you guys doing that?”

Moraine’s expression went sour. “No, unfortunately.”

“Oh?”

“Someone beat us to the punch. Nothing is confirmed, but the UEC thinks it’s the urgeks. They’re always making trouble, these days. I guess you won’t have heard since you’ve been in here, but after the invasion, Paragon retaliated against their homeworld. Wiped out a good chunk of their leadership before she was forced to withdraw. I guess they didn’t like that. Reports say that they killed every single sentient being on one of their slave worlds in a vast ritual. Exact purpose unclear, but it can’t be anything pleasant.”

“And you’re taking this seriously?”

“Oh yes. Sage’s predictions are never wrong. Usually too vague to be of any real use, but this one is clear. The Earth will end on the 20th of October. The UEC is making preparations, building four great ships to carry people of vital importance off-world. One in Beijing, one in Cape Town, one in New Founding, and one in Arcadia.

“The Red Right Hand has already secured seats, of course. For a precious few. Almost all of our servile members will stay behind in the hope of Snapping during the apocalypse.

“And that’s why I’m really telling you all this. Your retellings have been fascinating, and I really do enjoy our conversations. I have been trying to secure you a spot on the Arcadia ship. Leadership is proving… resistant to the idea. They don’t see the same intrinsic value in exploring the meaning of life and death that I do. And they believe, well, that you’d be a security risk, which is understandable. But I’m thinking if you accept indoctrination and pay a bit of lip service, it’ll help the whole thing go down smoother for them.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jacob asked, still scrambling to process all the information. “That I think your cult sounds super fucking reasonable and sane, actually? You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t. Neither would they. But it’s something.”

“Are you even allowed to tell me all this?”

“Not really,” she said with a shrill giggle, a balled hand over her mouth. “That’s the other thing. “Now you know too much. And they can’t kill you, so…” She shrugged. “Better to have you on our side than somewhere out there, spreading all sorts of information around. They could sink you to the bottom of an ocean somewhere, but there’s no guarantee you wouldn’t claw your way back out. They could blast you into space, but there’s no guarantee you won’t fall into a wayline and end up someplace inhabited.

“They could toss you in an active volcano, but we don’t even know what happens if your body is completely destroyed. Maybe you’ll just pop out of thin air somewhere. They could leave you here on Earth when the mother of all urgek curses hits, but who knows how long a petty little thing like an apocalypse would hold you back? There are no guaranteed ways of eliminating you.

“So there it is. What do you think?” She extended her arms in a ‘ta-daaa’ sort of gesture.

Jacob thought it over. If she was telling him the truth, this was bad. Really, really, really bad.

Maybe I could make a deal. I’ll go along with whatever they say if they get me and Becca spots on the ship.

Unless this is a trick of some kind. Some new way to fuck with me. I don’t want to tell them anything about Becca unless I have to. If they know how important she is, they’ll just use her as blackmail against me and go back on whatever promises they make once they don’t need me anymore.

I need to get out of here. Fast.

I’ll get out, join up properly with the Guild. I’m A-Rank. That’ll get me a spot, surely. They’ll have to seat families, too.

Surely.

“What’s today’s date?” Jacob asked.

Moraine gave a shallow sigh. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

“You tell me all your evil plans but you won’t give me today’s fucking date? Seriously?”

She just shrugged with a ‘what can you do?’ expression.

“Can I think about all this? It’s a lot.”

“Sure, Jacob. Sure. Just don’t take too long.” She got up and stretched her back with several audible pops. “In the meantime, would you like to do another experiment for me?”

“Not really.”

“Love the enthusiasm, Jakie!”

“Could you just… give me a little time? Please?”

Moraine ignored him completely. “I wanted to try something a little bit different today. I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of it.”

She took one of the metal cuffs out of her coat pocket and threw it into the air, where it got sucked right into the ceiling and sat on its end.

“Doctor…”

“Do you see where this is going yet?”

As always before using her Blessing, she removed her coat and pulled up her sleeves. She released dozens of wiggling arms that rose into the air, higher and higher, braiding together into one thick rope.

Jacob tried to move but his ankle cuffs suddenly switched on, causing his legs to buckle when he tried to take a step, and he ended up stuck on his knees.

The rope of flesh went through the ring in the ceiling and lowered itself down, splitting at the end to form a loop.

A noose.

Ah.

Jacob couldn’t bring himself to be upset about dying anymore. It had already happened five times. What difference would the sixth make?

It was funny, actually. Really funny.

“Good one, doctor! Good one!”

He laughed. Then the noose tightened around his neck and turned the laugh into a strangled croak.

The cuffs disengaged and he was lifted into the air, unable to draw breath. There was a terrible pressure on his spine. He shook and spasmed, grasped at the rope and clawed at it, but as soon as one arm was severed, another crept down to replace it. He tore them away in bunches, but they just kept growing back.

“I do try my best to keep these experiments fresh for you,” Moraine said. “Sweet dreams, Jacob.”

Jacob stared down at her until the struggle went out of him and his vision faded to black.

*****

Jacob was not in a forest.

He was still hanging. He dangled, suspended high in the air. Suffocating all over again.

Everything around him was in sharp contrast, black and white. No other colors. Like they had bled out of the world.

The ground was dead and bald. Jagged rocks, powdery gravel. Not so much as a weed. White lightning raced through a black, cloud-filled sky.

There were others in his peripheral vision. People hanging like him. Thousands of them. They hanged from the branches of a tree he couldn’t see, rising somewhere behind him. But it had to be enormous, of mythical proportions.

Wood creaked as he was slowly lowered to the ground. Then there was a snap, and he fell. Landed hard on his feet, fell sideways. He got back up, slipping on gravel, and worked the noose from around his neck. He tossed it aside, drawing in a sharp breath. The other end of the noose was attached to a snapped branch.

Jacob turned to take in the hanging tree. It was hundreds of meters tall. A diseased, lifeless behemoth that blotted out a good third of the sky, sections of the trunk rotting in powdery sheets. There were holes in it, gaping black maws, as though great worms had eaten through it.

He’d been hanging from one of the lowest branches. There were so many people that it would take a day to count them all. They swung about on a hot wind with the overlapping groans of strained hope. The dead made up the leaves of this abomination.

Jacob stood away, rubbing at his throat. He spun around, scanned the horizon, but saw nothing except harsh mountains in the distance. No other sign of life.

Where the fuck am I?