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Pushing Back Inevitability
The Law of the Conservation of Momentum.

The Law of the Conservation of Momentum.

When the door clicks closed I whisper.

“Do you have a map of where the doors are around me?”

“I have a map of all the doors in the world.”

“Can you show my town?”

The Shard divided itself and morphed into the curved screen once again and showed a satellite image of my town; little x’s dotting across every road, every empty, fallow field, and following the curves and bends of the river that flowed at the very edge of it. On the top read the name of my town along with the text, ‘1/20000 doors closed. Close them all for a reward of your portion of 15,000,000 dollars, as well as 30 stat points and 15 skill points.”

“...there are quests like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell m— I know the answer.” I grumble and massage the Can you show me a street-by-street view?”

The image zoomed in on my home street. It showed larger, ‘x’s,” dotting the street. Some were in the backyards of the houses around me, and some in the middle of the street, while still, some sat in the middle of sidewalks. On the top of the screen was the name of my street with the text; 1/ 30 doors closed. Close them all for a reward of 20,000 dollars, 5 stat points, and 1 skill point.”

“What happens when a street or town is clear?”

“It becomes able to be deemed a Sacred Area; where those creatures loyal to Roki cannot step foot in. But only if a shrine, a temple or such is built within it, depending on the size of the Sacred Area. A shrine for a street, and a temple for a town. Something the size of the Pantheon for the larger human cities.”

“That seems convenient.”

“Awfully.”

A car drove by. I see it drive right over one of the nearby Doors in the middle of the street some yards down. It passes through it like a phantom.

“Can no one else see the doors?”

“For now, only those chosen can.” Came the reply; scrolling like a marquee across the bracelet.

I had already decided that I would spend at least two days out of the house; so I open a ride-sharing app on my phone and order a car to take me to a sporting goods store, so I could get a bigger bag, and some sort of sleeping bag and something to lay against the ground. I had enough money now, after all.

Five minutes later, a cherry red sedan pulls up against the sidewalk. Its tinted windows roll down as a man with large aviator sunglasses glances out toward me.

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“Are you Lawrence?”

“Yes.”

I carry the backpack over the side of my hip where the jeweled scabbard tapped against my leg as I step into the car. The black faux-leather squeals as I sit down. The belt barely buckles across my gut as it clicks in place.

“Where to again?”

“Big 5.”

“Right. Do you want to listen to music or anything?”

“Nah.”

The man pulls away from the sidewalk and out onto one of the main streets of the town. Tens of doors dot the landscape in front of me — in the fields next to the road that would house a corn maze come autumn; in the yards where children played, and where small dogs yapped at people passing by their chain link fences. What would happen if all of these opened all at once? A brief flashing image of wanton destruction — of Ratmen tearing apart the children and the small, yapping dogs, crosses my mind. I grip the wand in my pocket and then turn my attention back to the road in front of me.

“You okay there, buddy? Kind of spaced out there.” The driver said.

“I’m fine. Just lost in —”

The car drives through a door. It is upright, and bright blue with gold knobs. Suddenly, the faux leather seats vanish from beneath me, and I am sent flinging through the black void once more. The air rushes about my ears for a second as I clutch my bag tightly to my chest lest I lose it in the void before I am deposited onto a rolling stop, down a short flight of stairs, and onto a cobblestone street. The car had been going before I was forcefully entered into the door, and kept me going for a good twenty feet. Fucking a conservation of momentum. I lay on my back for a second to allow the pain to stop radiating through my body.

I move a little. No bones seem to be broken. I’ll have some new bruises. A warm trickle along my back let me know one of the stab wounds from the last door had opened. I push myself to a sitting position, pull out my wand and heal myself. After two times, the bleeding, and the pain, stop, and I push myself to my feet.

It seems as if I’m in the same city as before, though not in the same area. I look behind me at the door I had exited from — it is attached to the skeletal remains of a home; charred ribs of rafters reach to fog-covered skies. The smell of smoke still hangs in the air.

“I can’t even drive?” I speak to the bracelet.

“Apparently not.”

“You didn’t even know?”

“How could we? Cars are a fairly recent, and entirely human invention.”

Fuck. I curse and kick a loose stone. It skitters across the gray stone, it stops at the foot of the building across the street from the burned house. It’s a huge building with a foundation of large gray stones, and walls of great pieces of black timber. Glass shards sparkled in the overgrown grass along its edges as the two large empty holes that had once held the broken windows howled ominously with the pitter-patter of padded paws hurrying to the door.

“What level is this Door?”

“2.”

“What’s the goal?”

“Lay claim to the talisman.”

I draw my wand and get ready. Just as the Ratman rounds the door and begins to descend the stairs I raise my wand.

“By the order of Gob, King of the spirits of the Earth, I order you, oh gnomes, seize my foe.”

I draw the shape — an upside-down triangle with a line cutting through it as I speak. When the incantation is finished a hand made of soil and stone juts from the ground and grabs hold of the ankle of the passing Ratman. It falls face first. The shield it held in front of its chest rammed against the ground, and the blade it held pointed forward fell out of its grasp and skittered forward.

I pick the blade up and walk over to the Ratman trying to pull himself free of the solid soil hand and finish him off with a stab through its throat. It gurgles and spits foamy blood as it thrashes on the ground helplessly. I pull the single golden ring from its tail and undo the buckles on the round shield on its arm when it finally stills. I look it over for the talisman but find nothing. I sigh. Where was it? I stab the blade into the creature’s back and continue my search.