Little Hammer and Flower are the first to run up to me, throwing their survival toys aside when they see me stumble out from the deeper woods. Their headlong rush slows a bit when they hear the blasphemous curses I'm delivering at Box, but the innocence of childhood allows them to ignore my vile imprecations as misheard mutterings.

"Memoriam Sky!"

"We thought you were dead!"

They cling to my legs in that unbreakable grip young children possess, and I tousle their hair before leaning down to gather them into a comforting hug.

"I'm so glad to see everyone again. Last night sure was scary, huh?"

"There was a big fire in the sky," Hammer says, face serious. "I thought it was going to burn us all up."

"Too many loud noises," Flower complains. "My ears still hurt."

"And Door's foot got broken," Hammer adds. "Mister Window Doctor had to fix it."

The mention of Door causes me to release the two little ones, my attention turning to my friends. I need to check on Door and Rifle, let them know I'm okay.

...I need to find Wires' uncle and let him know what happened.

At this point more villagers are making their way over, exclaiming in surprise at my reappearance. Pretty soon a crowd has gathered, wanting to know where I was and what happened. Apparently Rifle or one of the other teenagers must have informed them that Wires and I were going to investigate the crash after they returned from the hilltop. Just as the tumult of voices is becoming overwhelming, silence starts to spread from the back of the crowd, everyone quickly falling quiet. Villagers step aside to make an aisle, and three figures make their way down it - an old man in a wheeled chair covered in blankets pushed by a tall woman in forest-stained leathers, a middle-aged man with a bushy brown beard walking alongside.

Great Grandpa Axe, Broom Idiot, leader of their clan, and River Builder, Wires' uncle. I take a deep breath.

"Great Grandpa Axe Memoriam," I greet him formally, then turn my attention to the other two, "Missus Broom Idiot, Mister River Builder. I..."

My voice trails off, mind at a loss as to what to say.

"Is Wires with you?" River Builder asks anxiously. "He didn't come back last night."

"I..."

Tears start sliding down my cheeks, and his face scrunches up in pain.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't... he's..."

Wires' uncle simply steps forward, gathering me into a rough hug, pressing my face against his chest. I let myself feel the hurt once more, our bodies shaking in alternating sobs. Eventually he pulls back, hands still clasping my shoulders.

"Did... did he die for a reason? Some knowledge an Idiot would be proud to pass on?"

"He saved my life," I respond bluntly. "We were attacked, and he tried to protect me so I could flee."

Hushed gasps rise from the crowd, people casting worried glances at each other, but Wires' uncle simply wipes a sleeve across his. "Fool boy," he mutters, shaking his head slightly, but there's now pride behind the sorrow in his eyes. "Told him not to be a hero too many times." He releases his other hand from my shoulder and steps back to Great Grandpa and Broom Idiot.

"...do you know what you were attacked by?" a concerned voice calls out from the crowd. "A crabroach? A Glowbeast? Were they stirred up by that fireball?"

"Is the village in danger?" another voice asks, and I open my mouth to speak.

You should tell your Great Grandpa and Broom in private first, Sky, unless you want to start a panic. Based on your memories, they are in well-respected positions of power, and will be better suited to relay the news as needed. Your village is currently still undetected by either Wutan-Weylan or reality's manifestations, so there is some time. Not much, but some.

Hmmm. Box is probably right. There's no telling how the village is going to take the information that we're not the only humans left on earth, let alone everything else.

"The village is safe for now," I say, trying to fill my voice with confidence I don't really feel, "but I need to consult with Axe Memoriam and Broom Idiot on the situation right away. There may be resources in the Memory Shrine or the Archives that can help explain what happened to Wires."

I don't know if there are or not, but it's all I can think of that the crowd might accept. Sure enough, there are some grumbles, but the villagers start dispersing, walking back to their tasks. Broom regards me thoughtfully as she rolls Great Grandpa's chair closer.

"That was more mature than I expected, Sky. Is what happened to Wires that bad?"

I glance over at Wires' uncle, his face still drawn, and make a snap decision.

"We should talk about it somewhere else. Probably the Archive. Mister River should join us."

Not a bad idea. He's more likely to keep quiet than not, and telling him about his nephew will help his mental state, both now and in the future.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Great Grandpa exchanges a look with Broom, both of them raising an eyebrow.

"How quickly they grow up, eh?" He chuckles weakly, then starts coughing. I lean forward in concern, but he waves me off, still hacking wetly. "I'm fine, Sky. Well, as fine as I can be. Time claims us all eventually."

"Great Grandpa-"

"I said I'm fine," he snaps, a flicker of his former vitality shining through the collection of blankets. "I'm not dead yet. Let's go," he tells Broom, who chuckles as she turns him around on the hard-packed earth street. Wires' uncle and I follow them along the broad, twisting path beneath the trees towards the Archive complex.

The route through the village heart fills me with pride like it usually does, despite my newfound knowledge of just how primitive we are. Every carefully nurtured building, every swinging tree bridge allowing wildflowers to prosper tall below, every light of humanity wrested back from the elements that try to kill us on a daily basis - they're all important. They all matter.

...so much biomass.

I didn't know Box could feel hungry.

You are not allowed to eat the village.

I won't. As long as you don't die too much. That's why I had to eat the trees. And some other stuff.

I stumble, catching the side of Great Grandpa's wheeling chair to stabilize myself. Broom looks askance at me, but I'm focused on something more important.

Wait, I've died?!

Twice now, but what does that matter to someone comingled with reality? That's what you have me for.

I follow Broom and Great Grandpa up the curving ramp that leads to the Archive, a collection of gently rounded structures that spiral around one of the oldest and largest trees in the village, headquarters of the Idiot clan, but my attention is elsewhere.

Twice now.

...I want you to explain, Box.

You said you understood what "infinity" meant.

I didn't know it was possible for Box to sound petulant.

...I am not petulant. It is not my fault this tutorial has gone Euclideanly non-linear! All the other integrations get sane and normal galactic inhabitants who understand what it means to participate in a shared culture for over five thousand years and yet here I am!

Anger and hilarity war within me as we pass through the Archive's carved entrance doors, generations of successful Idiots memorialized in fine-grained wood. I don't understand half of what Box is trying to say, but it sounds exactly like Bottle when I caught him trying to set fire to a sack of Saint Gunpowder's basic ingredients.

Oooh, I'm going to get you for that. Fine. Wrap your peasant mind around this knowledge bomb - your death in an infinite multiverse is both statistically certain, and at the same time so improbable as to not even exist, and both of those outcomes plus everything in between are legitimate expressions of what you consider reality. My job is to navigate reality so that when you would normally die, perish, cease to exist, shuffle off this mortal coil, however you want to define the cessation of your particular unique perspective on the causal universe, I do some mind-melting math to make sure that we end up in a reality where you're not dead.

...you're babbling at the idiot barbarian again.

Okay, now you're being a shit.

Executing truth.exe

"...Sky? Are you okay?"

Somehow we're in one of the Archive's rooms, carefully organized records of entire generations of Idiot findings lining the walls in a variety of books, scrolls, parchments, and in some cases, blood-scribed barks, and I realize I'm drooling slightly.

My head hurts.

My head really hurts.

And that's why we let the integrator do the heavy lifting when it comes to infinities, right? That's why we respect what we don't understand, right? Because if we don't do that, our tiny little quantum probability collapser might overload from the strain, right?

You may continue with your meeting.

It feels like a crabroach died in my mouth. No, it feels like a Glowbeast ripped off the front of my face, and then a crabroach died in my mouth.

"Guh. Smprt."

I drag a hand across my mouth, wiping away the hanging spittle. Normally I'd be embarrassed, but the pounding migraine colonizing my existence is making it difficult to think past the next two seconds.

"Sorry. Blegh. Sorry. What the fuck, Box?"

Great Grandpa looks at me oddly as I manage to spit out a response to Broom. Next to her, Wires' uncle bears a similarly confused expression.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sky?" Great Grandpa asks gently, wrapped in his blankets. "It's normal for stressful situations to linger long past the initial event. We don't have to do this right now. You've probably had a long night."

"No," I spit out a bloody gob, wiping a fist across my lips, "we're going to settle this right fucking now."

...oh are we?

"Yeah," I grimace. "We are."