* * *

Sarah looked down at Pegasus. He was kneeling in front of her, cleaning out the cut on the bottom of her foot… right there in Zeus’ office… while Zeus stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

What was the scoreboard again? Was it 5-4 that this was a dream?

Because even with her crazy dreams, this felt surreal.

“I’m not sure where to begin.” She winced when Pegasus dabbed at the wound with a damp gauze. “I thought we weren’t using the ones with alcohol anymore.”

“Old batch, sorry.”

“Make it temporary. Just so she doesn’t bleed her way to medical,” Zeus said, apparently distracted by the bandaging of her foot as well.

“Whoever’s on cleaning duty will appreciate that,” Pegasus said over his shoulder as if nothing of greater importance had happened—or was still happening—that day.

If she sat really still, would they forget her and move on?

Sadly, there was no such luck.

“Start at the beginning,” Zeus said, gesturing towards her.

Even though she’d already told her story aloud to Pegasus, she didn’t feel comfortable saying it here under these bright lights.

Pegasus, having finished placing a temporary bandage on the cut, took a seat, ready to join the conversation. Sarah wished he hadn’t when his first words were the ones she was dreading: “She had a nightmare.”

Sarah tossed him a panicked look. Pegasus was supposed to be better at this than her.

A slightly risen brow, Zeus gestured she continue. Having him react so calmly eased some of her nervousness.

She found herself telling him about the first version of events she experienced, relaying it as a nightmare. She also told him about how she got there afterwards—the second time around. Nobody was laughing or saying she was crazy, so she confessed she still couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that this was real.

When she was finished, Zeus exchanged a look with Pegasus that she couldn’t interpret. She was starting to consider that Zeus actually could read minds.

“Is this the first time that something like this happened?” Zeus asked.

Sarah started nodding automatically, but that wasn’t entirely true.

“Something’s happened before?”

Sarah gave Pegasus a side glance before answering. “Not like this.”

“I’ve seen the reports. Athena thinks you’re suffering from some kind of mental breakdown, and Dr. Blue requested an MRI since the CT came back clear.”

“I guess it started with the dreams. And sometimes when I wake up, I can’t tell whether I’m awake.”

“Like now?”

“Yes. I’ve also thought I saw things that weren’t there, like Robyn, while I was awake. This is the first time where whatever I saw repeated almost exactly like I saw it.”

To have most of a day play out in terrifying clarity… No, nothing like that had happened before. “And I have these bad feelings sometimes.”

“We all have bad feelings, hunches and such,” Zeus said.

“Could be. But it feels like more than that, and for no apparent reason. The last time I felt something like that was when the other Robyn tried to kill me, before she even got back from the mission where she was wounded.”

“And during these times when you’re not sure whether you’re dreaming or not, are you dreaming or are you awake?”

“Sometimes it’s a dream, but sometimes it’s real.” And once or twice, it felt like a dream within a dream.

Zeus leaned back in his chair.

Sarah felt like she was waiting for a verdict on her sanity.

Finally, Zeus turned to Pegasus. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden. What are you thinking?”

“Ever since we found out there was a target on Sarah’s back, we’ve been trying to find a reason why someone would be so intent on killing her, why anyone would think she was so dangerous…” Pegasus shrugged. “This could be it.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She hadn’t made that association. Well, that would have required believing she was seeing things that were real. So far, she’d dismissed Robyn’s claims that she’d be dangerous to a world simply because it was too impossible to believe, and there was nothing about her out of the ordinary enough to make a difference. But this being real would change everything.

“So, first question would be: is it real?” she asked, realizing she’d interrupted whatever it was Zeus had been saying. “Did I really see something that hadn’t happened yet?”

He paused to consider her words, seemingly uncaring about the interruption itself.

“What’s the risk if we assume it’s real and it’s not?” Zeus asked in turn.

Pegasus scoffed. “What’s the risk in assuming it’s not real if it is?”

“Do you wanna go with real or not real?” Sarah asked. “Or should we flip a coin?”

Pegasus laughed, but Zeus didn’t look amused.

“I call heads,” Pegasus said, getting a look from Zeus that would have made anyone but him shut up immediately. He shrugged. “We need an assumption to start with. A theory, if you prefer, to prove or disprove.”

“Which one would you suggest, Phoenix?”

“Real.” If only because the alternative meant she had lost her mind somewhere along the way—and Pegasus was dead.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Zeus surprised her by nodding. “Real it is then, for the moment.”

“Then the question becomes: how do we prove it’s real?” Pegasus asked.

It was Sarah’s turn to shrug. Was there any other way except waiting for her mind to give her something they could check?

“Not all my hallucinations are like that, though. Some just…” Some showed her the things she wanted, like her parents and Robyn. “How far can my brain go to change my memories of these dreams in retrospect? Because everything happened like I saw in the dream.”

“Well, not exactly.” Pegasus pointed at himself.

A heavy silence fell on them.

“Are we saying Phoenix sees the future now?” Zeus asked.

Sarah winced at that question. This was becoming crazier by the second, but if they were willing to play along, why shouldn’t she?

“Future or not, what if she’s seeing an alternate version of events?” Pegasus asked.

Sarah turned to him. “The other world. Do you think I may be seeing what’s happening there?”

He shrugged. “Maybe things happen in a different order there, or maybe their world turns the other way.”

“The plane,” Sarah whispered, ignoring his joke.

Pegasus smirked. “I don’t think planes would care which way the planet turned.”

If she didn’t live under the constant impression that he didn’t take anything seriously, she might be offended.

“The plane you saw in your dream and then later, was it the same plane?” he asked the next second.

“I think so, but that doesn’t help, does it?” There would be no way to prove it was the same plane.

Was she taking this too far? Seeing the future of either dimension was such a gigantic leap from having hyperrealistic dreams. It also didn’t help that half of what she dreamed couldn’t possibly be real.

“So the next question is, if it is the future, is it our future or theirs?”

Pegasus shrugged. “Assuming you haven’t lost your mind.”

“I like that assumption very much. Not that it matters what I like.”

Zeus typed something into his console. “Let’s look at that option first then. I want Dr. Blue to have another look at you. I’ll have him meet you in medical right away.”

Sarah nodded. She figured they’d humored her long enough.

“Keep a record of all these events,” Zeus said. “We’ll try to match whatever you see with actual events.”

Sarah glanced at Pegasus. She so didn’t want to have to write everything down.

“We’ll need to see if we can use it to our advantage.”

“What do we tell the others?” Pegasus asked.

“A version of this that doesn’t sound insane would be nice,” Sarah suggested.

“Lying doesn’t last very long down here.”

Zeus nodded. “Tell them Phoenix will have some more tests done before she can return to duty. That’s after she undergoes the verification procedures. The main point should be that she’s having a mental health crisis.”

“Should I use the word psychosis?”

“If you want.” She’d thought worse.

“For today, tell them that Phoenix came upon intel that she thought was important, but couldn’t verify in time. Being the impulsive and reckless creature she is, that’s what we ended up with.” Zeus gestured towards her with a flourish.

“I’m impulsive?” She conceded an argument could be made for reckless.

Zeus gave her a look and she tried very hard to make herself invisible. It seemed she succeeded for a moment when he turned his attention to Pegasus. “Have Unicorn take her to medical. She should be waiting outside.”

Sarah would have to get used to being escorted everywhere from now on. It was surprising enough that they hadn’t locked her up, even with Pegasus’ interference.

Unicorn was right outside the door. She hadn’t turned in her gun yet. “I’m not surprised she triggered an alert, but I figured you had enough sense to deal with it properly, Pegasus.”

In cases of suspicion, procedure dictated that she should have not only been kept under guard as soon as they returned to the compound, but Pegasus should’ve also notified Unicorn—her supervisor. He also should not have led her straight to Zeus.

“Sorry,” Sarah said. This mess was all on her.

“It’s my fault,” Pegasus said. “I thought it better to go directly to Zeus before things got out of control.”

“Well, the running off and causing a weirdness alert to be issued wasn’t your fault.” She pointedly glanced at Sarah.

Sarah winced. “Sorry.”

Unicorn waved it off. “Alright, let’s go.”

Sarah limped her way to medical in front of Unicorn. The woman asked nothing of her, so Sarah didn’t even have to use the simplified explanation that Zeus had provided for her. All for the best, she wasn’t looking forward to lying.

Sarah was also in no hurry to increase the number of people who thought she’d lost her mind. Three seemed quite enough, and yes, she was including herself in that count.

* * *

Back inside Zeus’ office, Pegasus grabbed a nearby box of tissues and started cleaning the mess he’d made on the floor.

“I haven’t had blood in this office in a while,” Zeus reminisced.

“Was that when Wolf and Fox went at it?” Nobody ever did find out what the fight was about.

“I believe it was.” Zeus patiently watched him wipe the floor until he had gotten most of the blood. “You can probably leave the rest for the cleaning crew.”

Pegasus took a seat.

“How are you feeling?”

Pegasus shrugged, not sure how to answer that. “It’s not every day a pseudopremonition saves my life.”

He hadn’t lied when he told Sarah he’d had more than his fair share of close calls. But the way she’d looked at him, as if she could barely believe her eyes, that was the most terrifying part of it. Her belief made it real to him.

“Do you really think that’s what it was?”

A second too late to stop himself, he shrugged again.

He didn’t know what to think. He hadn’t seen the other terrorist, hadn’t even noticed him until Sarah intervened. Would he have died? Maybe. Probably.

“Say what you’re thinking,” Zeus said after a moment. “I can’t really read your mind.”

Pegasus smirked. He was the one who’d started the mind-reading rumors back when he was still in the academy. “Either she’s the most perfect and hare-brained idea for an impostor they’ve ever had, or she’s telling the truth.”

“Could she have been switched out today?”

Pegasus shook his head.

As a precaution, Zeus had had someone monitoring her ever since she left their compound last year. Until recently, there had never been an opportunity. The only other option was if they’d switched her out when they switched Robyn, which wouldn’t even remotely make sense.

“I asked you to keep an eye on her.”

Pegasus ignored the touch of reproach to the words. Without that, it was simply a stated fact. “I did keep an eye on her.”

He didn’t like the look Zeus gave him then, but decided it was best to ignore that as well.

“I want to know your opinion. Is Phoenix an impostor or is she having pseudopremonitions as you call it?”

Pegasus laughed. “It might say something about my own sanity, but I’m leaning towards the latter.” He still couldn’t get past the terrified, haunted look in her eyes.

“I hope I only need me to ask you this once, but is your answer what you think is most likely or what you’d rather believe?”

“She got the verification code right. And unless they switched her out when she first got here a year ago or before that to play some long game on us, then this is something else.”

Zeus didn’t say a word.

Pegasus recognized this type of poker face. “I’m not being tricked. But I’ll go through the motions and we’ll check and recheck her as many times as needed.”

“But you believe her.”

Pegasus reached for a pen sitting on Zeus’ desk, but Zeus pulled it away before he could grab it. He threw his hands up. “She believes it.”

How difficult was it to believe in visions when a parallel world was involved?

Zeus pressed his fingertips to his forehead as if trying to contain a headache. “I know you haven’t been very good about listening to me lately, but I mean it, I want this kept quiet.”

“I have no intention of telling anyone.” He didn’t like not knowing what would happen if he did.

“Keep it that way until we know what’s happening.”

“I doubt we’ll be able to wait forever.”

“Don’t forget the simpler explanation.”

“That she set it up.” Pegasus couldn’t say he hadn’t considered it. “But even so, there’s no way to have predicted that I would be where I was, that I would have chased one of them down, that I would not have seen the other. As much planning as could have gone into it, there’s no way they could have planned it so well without contacting her, and she’s had no contact with the outside.”

“Make sure the checks are thorough.”

Pegasus nodded, making his way to the door.

“One more thing.”

Pegasus recognized that look as well—and he didn’t like it one bit.

“She trusts you,” Zeus started in a lower voice as if exchanging a confidence.

Pegasus glared at him, he couldn’t help it.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m stating a fact. She trusts you, and more importantly, she confides in you.”

“I think you got that the other way around.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything differently. Keep an eye on her and let me know if you think we should take more drastic measures. For now, we’ll limit her access to non-essential systems.”

Pegasus nodded briskly, opening the door to leave. “I’ll be sure to let you know the second Sarah starts scribbling nonsense on the walls in blood.”