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[101] Yuri Worlds 101 – Landing

[101] Yuri Worlds 101 – Landing

Yuri Worlds

[101] Landing

Landing on the other side of the threshold was much more violent than last time for Misaki. It felt like being cast from a dryer in the middle of the heaviest spin cycle. Add in the fact that her depth and color perception were completely thrown off by the so-called "normal" layout of their world.

She was home, back in her world, the "real" world. And every inch of it immediately felt fake. The blurriness returned from dreams and visions. Not as pervasive, but it was an annoying lack of clarity. And she was Franklin again. He was Franklin.

Whether intentionally or not, although Franklin leaned towards intentionality, Dwight rolled with the group and protected them from the rough floor like a muscular catcher's mitt. His cheek was dripping blood, though, and his shoulder looked quite bruised. The recessed pit leading down to the blue and gold archway had been a quaint and curious feature at their departure. Now, it felt like it chewed them up like jagged molars.

"Is everyone all right?" Yuka's voice called out from several meters away, even though Franklin could feel her right next to him. Sitting up, it wasn't long before he glimpsed Yuka, and she glimpsed him. Franklin assumed he'd lost his anime attributes on this side of the portal. It made sense, but he didn't think about the fact that so would Yuka.

Franklin's first feeling looking into her eyes was that she was just as strikingly beautiful as always. The artful shades of her hair had diminished to a low-luster tint straddling black and a deep metallic gray. Her lips were much more prominent, with 'real-world' details of naturalistic pink rounding out subtle aspects of imperfection. Her eyes still seemed beautifully vast while tamed to such a slight shape.

He was already so used to how anime noses projected, were shaded, and existed on colorful faces that looking at what should've been a normal one took a dive right into the uncanny valley. Fighting not to show any expression that might make Yuka feel bad about her appearance was his highest priority. Slightly below that, he was resisting the urge to glance down at her chest.

Franklin's peripheral sense of its presence was more pronounced in this world than in the other. Or maybe her yukata had been yanked snug by their tumble. He really shouldn't have been focused on all that, considering he had a bigger pair mere moments ago and might be moments away from a monumental return when the flood arrived. But he couldn't avoid it.

In answer to the question lingering in the air, Guy and Dwight checked one another while Yuka checked Franklin. Her blushes were much subtler here, but she wore clear signs of sheepish curiosity. Quietly, she remarked, "So, that's what it's like? I have a lot to learn...."

Clearing her throat after that, Yuka called out, an echo of her own voice: "No broken bones. Or other injuries. Do we need to start running again?"

From a side chamber, a twin of Yuka poked out her head and crept over curiously. "Oh, wow. I was worried that maybe it projected or teleported me rather than making a duplicate. But there I am. We are. Whatever. I heard an alarm, but I was able to shut it down, and this guy in gray charged me. I had to hit him. I sort of hope he's okay, but just a little bit. As far as running, I don't know, but it seems like a good idea. Also, it seems to be nighttime here, which makes sense with the whole mass issue. According to what I can read on the computer, there is a disparity of thirteen and a half hours. I'm already missing Bianka and Nao."

They rushed over to the other Yuka's side and examined the control area. It was reminiscent of a lab tech's station in an X-ray or MRI suite. The setup was mildly different than the demarcation point they left through a week ago.

It still had the recessed pit that they encountered at full force, but otherwise, the walls were much closer on all sides, leading into a narrow hallway. A man in gray lay sprawled across the control room with an oozing, bloody head wound that both Yukas and Franklin felt affected by despite the distance. Dwight's blood didn't bother them, as he cleaned up the worst of it.

The Yuka who was here first squeezed her arm around her stomach and looked intently at the floor despite her comment. The Yuka who came with them rested a hand on her double's shoulder and shared a kind look.

They both leaned back in shock when sections of her shoulder started to separate like dark, magnetized gravel and pull towards the other. Franklin recognized the effect as likely similar to what he felt when getting too close to Yuka. They stood safely apart for a few moments, and the double's cohesion returned to normal.

"You shouldn't have stopped. I'm no longer necessary. They'll try to use me. I should just go home..."

Despite how tiny their eyes were now, Yuka's eyes got so big in fearful concern. "You're alive. You're me but… Oh my gosh, it's so hard to think about. What if I were you? I can't do that to myself. But you're right. Why does everything have to be so complicated?"

All throughout her words, Yuka's other self eagerly nodded, as though she shared the same thought through a wireless brain. Franklin felt a familiar sentiment in watching the other Yuka pantomime a hug and a pat for her twin that could only be shown and not felt.

Dwight checked ahead around the corner for anyone who might try to get a jump on them. He came back with the news that it appeared to be currently clear but that the lights were in low-brightness mode, so it was hard to see everything. Chika made sure that their rescuer received the kind of hug and shoulder pats that her counterpart couldn't give, and which would still be slightly dangerous for Franklin with what was inside him.

Assuming they got out of this, what would their relationship be like? There were plenty of ways to make anything work, he told himself. They had to be careful not to get too excited or intimate, or else Yuka would accidentally suck his soul from his body. No biggie. Love takes sacrifices. Franklin gently held each Yuka's hands long enough to make them smile but not so long that he felt the cruel magnetism start.

"Just so you know, I am not sharing, so you better inhale me or gobble me up or whatever is least painful before those bastards try to come after me. For now, I suppose double the fighters is good while we deal with this place." Both Yukas brought out their weaponry, in the form of especially long black blades with blunt, bashing reverse sides, when their hands were free.

Still, no one showed up on either end of the dimly lit hallway. Unfortunately, something did. A whirring, strange ceiling turret descended with a shimmering blue light, like it was preparing to put on a rave. They pulled back just in time, as the faintest shine of a projected beam was bright enough to leave a painful afterimage. It was more like arc welding and left a smoldering, black mark on the wall and floor.

Fortunately, both Yukas had an idea. They had already used their projections as mirrors. And it was a simple matter to heighten the reflectivity. They both made large examples and turned them against the turret. Both resisted the powerful lure to gaze upon their reflections.

But instead of having to reflect the beam back on itself, the reflections, especially with the two of them, confused the thing as it jumped back and forth between their mirrors like it was rapidly sliding across a raincoat. All they had to do was get underneath it and project the tip of a sword to shut it down.

However, it was booby-trapped. First, a surge of electricity shot through the air like a lightning strike, riding the rod of Yuka's projected blade. That threw both of them off their feet and staggered everyone else quite a ways back. Before they could even begin to recover, a spurt of reddish liquid flew and splattered in all directions, as though the machine had actually been alive.

It burned like acid, and no amount of screaming dulled the pain. Security blood. The Yukas got the worst of it, but Franklin received a thick splatter along his arm. It simultaneously spread the sensation of crazed fire ants swarming over and burrowing into his flesh, along with the sharpest burn, and a horrible paralysis. He wanted to beat every member of the company to death. They used this on poor innocent wristband girls, relentlessly. It was a miracle of kindness that the whole lot of them didn't despise everything human.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Guy and Dwight showed some signs of discomfort, but nowhere near the blinding, overwhelming sensations swallowing the three of them up. Franklin considered, when the constituent components of thought were possible, that was probably something they threw in for travelers, or maybe it was because they were each temporarily hosts to what eventually found its home in him.

Yuka couldn't die, and, in this case, it seemed true enough even though the suffering the two of them fought through left them sweaty, barely willing to take a breath, and trembling to move even an inch. Removing them from the blood and slowly cleaning it off allowed their obsidian essences to revert back to a semi-liquid state. Collecting their wits took a few moments longer.

Landing party Yuka mentioned, "We have to do something about the flood. From what Bianka said and what I was able to see when I arrived, there's only so much storage space at that place in the backstage of… My world. It needs to be fed into the rainmaker thing soon. All that is in the deep storage level. We're not too far from it. But if they have a security system full of those, I don't know what we're going to do." She grunted through the pain and recovery, needing to pause every few words.

Dwight didn't flinch as he tore scraps of his clothes to scoop up and absorb the biggest pools of blood that were hurting his friends. Whatever pain he was feeling didn't show on his bearded face. Their yukatas had all been translated to the "real" variant while preserving what had been torn out in recent hours for Maharu and so many other little tasks.

Once the worst of the agony waned, the Yukas took a moment to scrutinize Dwight's face as though it were flowing with a rich, fresh epiphany of clarity beyond the pain. Franklin's features had received their first attention and curiosity. Guy's earned a quick glance, but seeing an actual beard was so different from what they had discussed about what they were supposed to look like. Neither of them experimented with a Cerberus shape that might contain some approximation of it, but Franklin could tell that the two of them were itching to utilize the bevy of new knowledge when the moment and the world reached a less crazy state.

For now, they had to get to the rainmaker. Guy and Dwight became the scouts, checking past where the low light reached. Franklin feared for them every time they slipped beyond his sight. But, after a round of nervous heart shudders, they safely reappeared to beckon them onward.

Each sliver of progress down the hall raised the mounting tension that there had to be some other security system just beyond sight, possibly something luring them into the worst trap so far. The recovering Yukas walked safely apart from one another but gently close to Franklin. He wasn't sure if the separate directions made it better or more like he was being vaguely cleaved in two.

The weirdest part of the whole thing was walking around as Franklin, even though that should've been the life and the skin he knew the best. But the life was a lie, and the skin didn't show the truth. Hopefully, if they could direct what had been stolen from them to the right place, maybe the truth would finally be known and seen. He would know and remember Carrie Francesca. And her little sister Silvia. And their friend Fiona.

Would Yuka still love her though? Come on, she had to retort to herself. Wasn't that just the same fear that Yuka felt about being a monster that couldn't be loved? The same note that, in clichés, Franklin remembered from Gal Hotner streams of the meme question, "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

She would love Yuka... he would love Yuka, whether she or he or a big gooey tar monster. And she...he told her as much when they all had an opportunity to catch their breath. Both Yuka squeezed his hands so tightly to the point of painful crushing, as though it could share the same emotion as a full-body hug.

They both acknowledged that, in the distant past of several days ago, the presence of Carrie Francesca terrified them as not being a representation of the genuine article. But she wasn't truly herself then, in the closest approximation of the company taking her over. Both girls dwelled on the implications far more than Franklin ever intended, sinking into doubt, before he firmly and decisively planted kisses equally on each of their lips.

That was the past. Live for now and look forward. Both girls fumbled in distinct ways despite sharing the same sentiment of hot nervousness and the subtle cues of human adulation.

No further security measures popped up on the ceiling or any other space before them as they arrived at an access stairwell that led down.

They tested that the door not only opened easily but could be opened again from each side. Still suspicious, Dwight returned to the original chamber to grab the keyboard by the computer that opened the portal to prop it open. He returned with a stern expression and the keyboard.

"The guy wasn't on the floor anymore."

Simultaneous waves of relief and nervousness crossed one Yuka's face. They all looked around cautiously, but there were still no signs of anything or anyone in their way. There was no other option; they had to descend and hope that they could make it to the pump.

Halfway between the feeling of a hospital space and a cramped submarine, even less light filled the stairwell, but still enough for them to hustle down the stairs to the last landing. They barely breathed the whole way down but finally heaved a long sigh when that door opened up.

The hallway that followed looked like every other one they'd seen since arriving, very much the secret military facility aesthetic rather than the cozy and anonymous AAA office sense the top side exuded. A room marked RAINMAKER beckoned them with open doors and glass windows.

A silvery version of the tablet that Bianka used lay flat on a metal table, along with a full computer setup. They scanned each of the screens, and Yuka pointed swiftly to the information on one that mentioned the waypoint with another letter and number string that apparently represented her world. A red warning flashed noiselessly, explaining below that containment needed to be flushed because it was at ninety percent capacity.

The instrument for that occupied the center of the room on what looked like a tall, rounded, silver upright vacuum chamber set on a small platform. It had several levers that bent and pushed in different directions, like stiff spider legs. Pictographic instructions on the side encouraged them to tilt each lever forward and shove it down and into the center body. They easily clicked into place. The top soon rose like a chunky silver handle on an umbrella.

Checking again with the computer, it communicated that the flush was in progress. The capacity number swiftly started to fall. The reservoir was being transported locally through a portal, or at least that was how both Yukas understood it from the screens. They permitted themselves a moment of vanity, checking themselves out in the dark portions of the screen.

It wasn't long before a new alarm went off, this one with a sound. The flood was being sent here. Unfortunately, the rainmaker hadn't been activated, and it would only fill this underground space.

They fumbled frantically to figure out how to activate it. When the others turned to check on their escape route, they looked on in horror as every one of the doors swiftly slammed shut with structures similar to the one that Namiko was just barely able to hold up. These were too fast for Dwight to do anything about them. A figure crossed through the window with a smile and a bloody, white bandage on their forehead. One Yuka after the other brought out their blades and swung at the glass. It didn't so much as chip.

They were trapped and about to be flooded.