A door stood in front of Gin. Though to the unknowing, unless you bumped into it by mistake, one wouldn’t know. To the naked eye, it looked like the sandy beach that surrounded it. However, Gin knew. There was no way in hell he would forget. Not when the very door led to his home; his village.
Yet, he didn’t want to enter. He understood the dream-like state he found himself in. Although what he saw felt real, he could not smell the orchids behind him, he could not hear the birds that always migrated at this time of year and he could not feel the roughness of his Xernim. In fact, the parasite vanished altogether –
‘Oh, shut up!’ Gin demanded. He heard his voice surround him rather than come straight from his mouth. Like an echo chamber of sorts even if he was sitting on an open beach. ‘I know the script off my heart by now. Just open the damned door.’
Gin waited. He waited until the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into hours. Still, nothing happened.
‘Really? Does the dream not change if my responses do?’ Gin expected the dream to react but it didn’t. ‘Look, mister or madam dream or whatever, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. You want me to do something, right? But I never do. I just lie on the ground, not killing mother or going down the steps or anything. This time is different though, dream. I promise, so just hurry up and show mother!’
As if the world he created listened, the nanobots that covered the location of the door disappeared, revealing the unopened hatch. A pad in the middle beckoned him. “Just place your hand on it,” it would say. But Gin remained steadfast in his conviction.
‘I want to but I know full well what happens if I don’t,’ he yelled back.
The voices stopped. The hatch opened. Stairs formed in front of Gin’s eyes. Then footsteps echoed. First came soft tap, tap, taps but soon loud thump, thump, thumps. The sound grew louder and louder until Gin’s heart skipped a beat when a head of a woman popped out. She had long, black hair and dark, tanned skin. She looked like she was in her late thirties with wrinkles forming around her cheekbones and forehead. As she climbed the steps, her not-so-slender physique showed through the traditional sari. Although, instead of the usual red, this time she wore a white garment.
‘Hello again, mother. How may I help you today?’ Gin scowled. He hated the imposter in front of him.
She stayed silent. However, she reached inside a pocket stitched on the outside of her sari and pulled out an all-too-familiar cuboid: his INS. The red tint in particular gave away the purpose of the contraption.
Then she threw it right at his feet.
‘Same as usual, huh?’ Gin scoffed. ‘Well, too bad. Still not going to do it.’
His mother remained silent to no one’s surprise.
Gin sighed. ‘Just unlock the next part of the dream already. I’ll follow you this time.’
‘Follow me then,’ she instructed like a broken record, opening the hatch once more and taking the first steps down.
‘Will do, mother,’ Gin shook his head.
Now what? Gin wondered. His body felt heavy and tired. Was it possible to be tired in a dream? Who knows? But that’s how he perceived it. So much so that he needed to lie down on his back. However, instead of letting the waters envelop him like before, he got up and stood in front of the steps to his village. It looked black. Very black. More like an abyss than a set of stairs.
‘Here goes nothing,’ Gin took a deep breath.
At that moment, he realised how small his body had become. His arms lacked his adult muscles and his belly hanged a little. Though when he touched his face, he noticed the stubble on his beard. Like the teenage boy he once was.
‘Well, this is a change,’ Gin took his first step.
All of a sudden, the whole scenery disappeared, leaving just Gin, three steps and pitch darkness everywhere else. He tried walking backwards. The furthest step seemed to vanish and a new one formed behind him. He tried walking forwards. This time, three more steps appeared in front.
‘One way to go, huh?’ Gin took a moment to process everything.
As he climbed down, Gin wondered how the dream would end this time. With the door (presumably) shut behind him, he couldn’t drown, unless the water managed to seep through the non-existent gap. Maybe a new death awaited him. But what?
Before he could get his answer, the steps stopped showing and that feeling when you prepare for a step that isn’t there while your heart skips a beat and your body does that falling thing reverbed through Gin’s body as he tumbled forwards.
‘You really couldn’t find a better way to describe that, huh?’ Gin sighed at his dream’s ineloquence.
When he landed, the area lit up, revealing the new surroundings. Instead of the entrance to the cave labyrinth that led to his village, Gin found himself right in the heart of it. Inside the village hospital on the third floor to be exact. The floors were brown with silver tints coming from the nanobot reinforcements. The walls were pure metal. The doors were made out of wood. Nothing new from what Gin could remember of the place. Well, except for the woman in white of course that stood in the middle of the corridor.
‘I followed you. What do you want me to do now?’ Gin asked.
His mother didn’t say anything (what a surprise)! She just bowed then entered the third door to the right.
‘Of course,’ Gin sighed and followed her.
He knew the place all too well. He could even guess what to find on the plaque that adorned the door. Yep. Sure enough, he rubbed the non-existent dust off of it to find the words “Doctor Gen Gale” engraved into it. Oh, how very predictable!
‘Father. Are you in there?’ Gin knocked on the door but got no response in return. ‘Just mother then.’
He looked at his body to see any changes. Like the last dream, he expected to be the baby-faced kid. However, he was surprised to see that he became the brooding nineteen-year-old. It gave a sense of when the dream took place. His eyes widened as he figured everything out.
‘Aha. Ahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,’ Gin burst into delirium. ‘Nope! Not this time. I’m not entering if I’m in this state. I know what mother’s like at the moment. Not this age, not this room, not this person! Just let me drown again. That’s a thousand times better!’
However, the dream didn’t listen. The door smashed open, revealing a dark expanse that shed no light. It sucked Gin in bit by bit. He tried to get away but arms of air grabbed hold of him until he could no longer escape. The last thing he heard was the slamming of the door as his sight got enveloped by darkness once again.
When he woke up again (is that even possible?), he found himself in his father’s workplace: a small room with a sleeping bed for patients, some hologram posters and a lot of doctors’ equipment laid about in a mess on the floor. Behind him was a door that led to a small lab; one he went to on occasion for his nanobot operation. Other than that, he wasn’t allowed access to it. Not in real life and, apparently, not in the dream world either as the doorknob didn’t budge.
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‘For fucks sake. Really? Let me out!’ he groaned.
But the groan didn’t come from Gin.
He turned around. His heart raced and his breathing became rapid. Right before him, the instruments vanished. In their stead puddles of blood marred the previously clean floor. His eyes wandered upwards, following the trail until he saw a half-dozen decayed, living bodies, all crouching around another being; one that wore a…white…dress.
‘No,’ Gin quivered. Gin took out the INS he still had. He placed his finger in the first compartment and activated it. The sword appeared in an instant. ‘Get away from her!’
The mindless zombies took notice, stood up and walked towards him. Gin swallowed vomit rising in his throat, caused by the putrid smell. Their deformed limbs and face made them unrecognisable. However, their relative shortness made Gin realise who they must be. Though that didn’t stop him as he stood his ground and aimed for the head of each of them.
He took the initiative. The first monster leapt forwards in response. Gin feinted right then sliced upwards. A clean strike took the head right off the body.
The others came at once now but Gin backed himself into behind the bed. His enemy couldn’t flank him anymore. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. That’s all the swings he needed. It felt almost too easy at that point. Then again, he probably had to go through at least a hundred of these undead before. It felt second nature at that point.
‘Only one thing left,’ Gin murmured as he pushed his finger through the second chamber. The sword lit ablaze. ‘Sorry, uncles and aunties.’
He stabbed the chopped heads of the villagers, relatives or not, clean through the eyes. A piercing screech emanated from them. The skulls cracked open and a cluster of white worms tried to escape from the heat. But they burned. Oh, how they burned! Until nothing remained…
‘Mother! Are you ok?’ Gin rushed over to the body that still lay there. Blood still stained her dress. She still remained motionless and speechless. ‘Wasn’t I in time again? I dealt with all of them. I did it correctly and efficiently. Please wake up…’
Gin threw away his imaginary INS. He cradled his imaginary mother. Imaginary tears welled up in his eyes. But none of that helped. Even if the fake lived, that didn’t change the reality. Was this the point of the dreams? he wondered. Just to have him suffer again and again and again and again and again and all of a sudden, arms grabbed his shoulders. They ripped him away from his mother. When Gin looked up, he saw the headless bodies all pinning his relative, colossal body down.
Then his mother rose up. Her face distorted, she dragged herself to Gin. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even cry at that point. All he felt was agony as his mother plunged her razor-like teeth into his chest.
Blood-curdling screams followed.
****
Screaming woke Gin up. However, when he came to, he realised that came from him. He went straight for his chest where the streaks underneath the xernim throbbed in incoherent intervals. But soft feathers stopped him from checking his condition.
‘Aqmi?’ he questioned. The bird squawked in response. ‘What’s up?’
The bird jumped up and down, trying to tell him something. It looked distressed. As if something happened outside that he should be wary of.
Gin sat up and looked around. Now that he thought about it, not a single person came to see him in the tent. He did scream, right? Or maybe he still dreamt. Though his aching lungs and acid-filled throat told otherwise. At that point, Gin couldn’t tell a thing. At least Aqmi looked real enough…Gin hoped.
‘Is it safe?’ Gin asked to which the bird gave an affirmative nod. ‘Ok. Let’s go.’
When he stepped outside, a sereneness took hold of the area. Only the sound of his heartbeat disturbed the silence. Not a single gust of wind nor chirp of desert wildlife could be heard. Though an overabundance of flowers that were oh-so-white adorned the place like a meadow in spring. But what irked Gin more was the fact that he saw each and every mage collapsed and unmoving like a mass wave of comas swept the place clean.
‘Oi!’ Gin called out.
No one stirred from their slumber. Or at least no squadron W member. He couldn’t find a single person originating from squadron O oddly enough.
I really must be dreaming, he thought as he stepped over the sleeping bodies and untainted plants. Aqmi followed after, almost quivering in fear from…something. Though Gin couldn’t pinpoint what. He felt calm though. Too much for his own liking in fact. Everyone could be dead and he didn’t even flinch or panic. No, he carried on his aimless journey to who knows what with a plucky familiar by his side.
However, he stopped when he saw Brim in a foetal position on the floor. Right beside him, a few containers of meat splayed onto the sand. Knowing him, that would never have happened unless he was indeed dreaming or a serious threat overshadowed the squadron. Gin presumed the latter but the fact Brim wouldn’t wake up despite his best efforts made him lean towards the former reason. Blades. Shield, he still took precautions. Fortunate for him, his xernim gauntlets existed for the time being, even if he found himself in the dream world again. His body seemed normal as could be too.
‘But why am I the only one awake?’ he thought out loud. Aqmi whimpered in response. Gin forgot his companion for a moment but that only raised more questions as he noticed something stranger. ‘Sorry, guess you’re awake too, huh? But then why are you the only animal awake? The lupims, moles and tinoos aren’t making any noise either…’
Just then, Gin spotted a figure in the distance. Judging by the other bodies that surrounded it, this person looked tiny, almost manush height. At first, he guessed it was Sam but the moonlight shone bright and it turned out the person was covered in pure ivory white. Mother? he recalled the dress his imagination gave his fake parent. No, it can’t be.
Yet, despite his mental rejections, he rushed forward. If in the off chance that this wasn’t a dream, then he could see her again, surely? But a tug from Aqmi brought him back to the realisation that she’s deep underground as nothing but bones. Then who…
The figure turned around and stared at Gin with scarlet eyes that shone under the moon. However, the white of the skin shone brighter. Except it wasn’t skin but a rough wood with patterns that looked too similar to the gauntlets he wore: A xernim suit of armour. Then it smiled a smile that shook him to his core. The mouth itself was hidden under the mask but when it smiled, the bark snapped to pieces and made sharp triangles like a shark’s mouth, compensating for the toothless gums that lay beyond.
‘So, you’re the one I was told about. Kalo apogevma, paidi,’ it spoke with a strange accent and said strange words, though it sounded quite feminine regardless. ‘You look confused. Should I have spoken in your more native Scythian?’
Gin blinked several times in confusion. His lips wavered, not out of fear, but an uncontrollable nervousness from being in the presence of such a mage.
‘You can’t speak in that language either, perhaps? How strange,’ she stepped towards him, the size difference becoming very apparent as she only reached his stomach. ‘It is quite possible that you’re a complete outsider. Though don’t fret. I am not here to cause harm to yourself. Contrary, I wanted to at least greet myself.’
‘Uh,’ Gin stuttered.
‘May I know how should I address you?’ the odd woman asked.
‘Gin Julius Gale. Gin would do,’ he somehow mustered up a response.
‘Very well. I shall refer you by your given name then,’ she gave a little tilt of the head. ‘May I propose a question?’
‘Sure,’ Gin replied without hesitation. For some reason, he felt calm. Not only that, the truth and only truth and obedience came out. As if a hand pinched his throat and stopped his ability to lie.
‘Have you pondered on what manush-meat is like? It must be similar to mage-meat, surely, but there’s a niggling sensation that tells me otherwise.’
That sounded so nonchalant that the tone creeped Gin out more than the actual question. He stepped back, almost tripping on a body as he did so. Though the xernim-covered woman copied his movements.
‘Darling, I beg that you don’t be afraid. I do not go back on my word. No harm shall befall you,’ she reassured. ‘May you offer your hands to me?’
‘Alright,’ Gin obeyed. He knew he should find his actions wrong but his body didn’t as he extended his gauntlets towards her.
‘My, my. What mischievous girls,’ she latched onto Gin’s hands. The whites of her xernim grew over his own until they stopped right at the elbow, almost enveloping his entire arm. The grin made out of wood widened further. ‘You are quite fortunate though. They will not become like me and you will not become like her. Quite the opposite in fact. Makes me jealous.’
‘Huh? I don’t quite understand.’
‘Your un-understanding is understandable,’ she continued, her grip getting harder on his xernims. ‘You are confused. You are lost. You think you have nothing, yet you also have an unwavering passion for life and thus have everything. A rare and potentially foolish trait. Or at least that’s what they are telling me.’
‘What? Who’s telling you?’ Gin felt sleepy. He didn’t understand a word this woman said nor did he have the energy to protest his treatment.
‘You’re an ignited flame that burns. Whether you become the best soldier Eurasia has ever produced or a dead nobody, I am simply adding fuel to that fire. Keep it burning. The more fuel you add, the more difficult it is to be put out.’ At that, her xernim retreated back to her own palms, giving Gin full control of his body again. ‘Now, as thanks for entertaining me, do you have a wish I can grant?’
‘Uhhh,’ Gin’s words became sluggish. He couldn’t even form them right. A wish? Was this woman some sort of fairy? No, that can’t be it. This was a dream. Yes, a dream.
‘You can’t bring back the dead nor is it wise to forget,’ she continued as if tapping into his subconscious. ‘I suppose I can make them stop interfering with you though. For a good while at least. It appears our time is short anyway. My effects are finally hitting you. I do have a lot of questions for you, however. Perhaps I shall ask at a more appropriate time. It was a pleasure meeting you.’
Effects? Questions? What is she on about? Gin couldn’t even muster the strength to speak as he collapsed to the ground. His eyelids almost closed shut. The last thing he saw was the feet of the ivory-white woman and the sleeping body of his mage-eater. Ah. Aqmi. There you were…