“It’s like we’re mice in a maze, following a cheesy scent to a cheeseless place! We’ve gone from a dead end to another,” he growled. The frustration in Steve's voice reverberated through the quiet streets as he muttered.
“It’s alright,” Alice said.
“You repeated countless times: Do not worry! I know the city like the palm of my hand. Only morons get lost here… But look at us! We are lost and all because of you, Miss Perfection!” He boomed, his irritation boiling over into a heated retort.
Alice's smile, though, was unwavering, seemingly unscathed by the verbal volley. "Take it easy, I have a solution," she replied, her expression as serene as if they were discussing the weather.
His skepticism lingered as he quirked an eyebrow, his impatience palpable. "Can I know what you're going to do now? Time is running out."
Without missing a beat, Alice issued her command. "Shut up and follow me!" Her tone was sharp, a reminder that she had a plan, regardless of the ticking clock.
He wasn't about to be silenced so easily. "Don't shut me up! Don't disrespect me, you spoiled kid!"
Alice's response, however, was laced with equal parts determination and frustration. "You raised me, so it's your fault!" Her voice rose, piercing the air with her pent-up emotions.
His retort quivered on his lips, a sharp reprimand that threatened to escalate the situation further. But, perhaps realizing the weight of his anger, he choked down his words. “You…” he grumbled. "Move and speak only when we reach our destination." His voice trembled with the effort it took to restrain himself from a harsher response, even from raising a hand in anger.
With a cloud of tension hanging over them, Alice took the lead, and he followed, scowling. Their hurried footsteps echoed off the pavement as they reached the entrance of a library. Their pace remained relentless as they navigated Klimt Street, the urgency in their steps almost palpable. Two blocks later, they arrived at a bookstore, the surrounding buildings standing shuttered and silent.
It was then that Alice procured a small mirror from her skirt pocket, the kind that typically housed compact makeup. Her actions were precise and deliberate, she wore her ring then she placed her left hand on the mirror. In a matter of seconds, her hand began to sink disappearing up to her elbow.
What followed was swift and miraculous, he noticed while looking through the store’s facade glass that Alice’s floating hand appeared out of nowhere inside. Then Alice extracted her arm from the mirror, now holding several brochures and a guidebook that detailed the court buildings. Steve squinted then opened wide. "What’s that mirror?"
Alice's giggle was infectious as she explained, "This is one of those useless objects that I love so much, crafted by Völundr. It’s called a Mirrojector."
A skeptical frown creased Steve's brow as he questioned the practicality of her choice. "What will you use those for? I don’t think a map can help us now."
Alice's answer was quick and resolute, a determination that even Steve's skepticism couldn't dampen. "Völundr told me that I need to get a picture of the place I want to move to, just that!"
Confusion marred Steve's features, his brow furrowing as he sought to comprehend her plan. "What is that for?"
Alice's response was marked by a fervor that matched her determination. "I don’t know. I’ll try to see what happens, watch carefully!" Her fingers flipped through the pages of the guidebook, her intent clear as she scanned for something specific. "Here it is!"
But his frustration flared once more, his voice a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance. "What the hell will we do with that?!" he shouted, his irritation at its peak as he snatched the guidebook from her. "We don't need to do sightseeing when this city will vanish within five minutes."
The tension between them escalated as Alice's own patience snapped. Her exclamation was fervent, her emotions no longer contained. "I’ve had enough!" she yelled, her exasperation demanding to be heard. "Just shut up and give me your hand... Now see this picture, it’s the main lobby of the main court, memorize it."
The plea in Alice’s words was met with his continued bewilderment, his doubt evident in his tone. "How on earth will this help us?"
However, Alice's conviction remained resolute, her determination unyielding as she grabbed his hands. "Just do it... I will pronounce a spell Völundr asked me to memorize to use in these cases."
“When did you learn to do Thaumaturgy?”
Alice's response was tinged with pride, her confidence in her abilities radiating outward. "I haven't yet. But he said I'm a prodigy!" She stressed the last word, rolling off her tongue with a hint of satisfaction as if this newfound skill was a testament to her potential.
With her eyes closed, Alice's focus intensified, feeling cocky. "Tempus fugit, sicut nubes, quasi naves, velut umbra!" Her voice rose in tandem with her conviction, the incantation echoing through the air with almost tangible energy.
The world around them shuddered, the fabric of reality shifting in response to Alice’s words. Darkness swept in, engulfing them, as the familiar surroundings gave way to an enigmatic landscape. Jet-black ground stretched out before them, devoid of form or structure, a canvas of obsidian beneath their feet. Above, a cloudy blue sky hung like an unanswered question, the contrast between light and dark stark in its clarity.
But what captivated his attention were the clocks—countless clocks and watches of all shapes and sizes sprouted from the ground around them, like an otherworldly garden. Each one unique, each one working with an eerie precision. Cuckoos chimed, pendulum clocks swayed, and the steady trickle of sand marked time's passage within hourglasses. It was a symphony of movement, an orchestra of timekeeping devices that defied logic. Amid this surreal scene, Steve and his daughter stood as witnesses to a world that defied the norm. Broken gears, filthy casings, and misplaced hands didn't halt their motion—these clocks were a testament to the perseverance of time, no matter the odds.
But it was the sun clocks that puzzled him most. They cast illogical shadows, marking hours in a world devoid of sunlight. It was a contradiction, an anomaly in a reality that seemed to thrive on the improbable.
Though darkness enveloped them, it wasn't a complete void. The obscurity granted them limited visibility, an irrational state that somehow heightened their senses. And in this surreal setting, where the laws of the world were rewritten, Steve couldn't help but ask the question that had likely been on his mind since their arrival. "Where are we?" His eyes, wide with a mix of awe and confusion, darted around in search of answers.
Alice's response, when it came, was given in a tone that seemed to echo from the far reaches of her consciousness, a voice lost in a trance. "This is the world beyond the mirror."
“What are we doing here?” Steve's fingers reached for a pocket watch nestled amidst the peculiar clock garden, the cool touch of metal against his skin sent shivers down his spine.
Alice's voice, distant yet matter-of-fact, filled the air with an explanation that bordered on monotony. "By entering this place, time in the world outside the mirror has stalled. This is where the rabbit wreaks havoc."
"Rabbit?" Steve's gaze shifted from the watch in his hand to Alice, his curiosity piqued as the watch he held crumbled into dust with an eerie fragility.
Alice's empty voice confirmed, "Yes, the White Rabbit, a great friend who is a friend of no one." Her enigmatic smile held secrets that remained tantalizingly out of reach.
Nevertheless, the urgency of the moment was suddenly disrupted by a frenetic voice. "Oh my god, oh my god! How late I am!" Steve's attention snapped toward the source, his eyes widening as a sight that defied explanation unfolded before him.
A white rabbit with pink eyes sparkling with manic energy stood before them. Its attire was as bizarre as its presence—a jacket, a vest adorned with an intricate pattern, and a pocket watch bigger than his head held in its paws. It was a caricature of punctuality and haste, come to life in the most surreal way.
Alice's voice cut through the confusion; her inquiry directed at the rabbit's seemingly erratic behavior. "Where are you going?"
"Where do you think I am going? Isn't it you who called for me?" The rabbit stammered, running side to side as a caged cat.
Steve observed them, his mouth wide open.
Recognition dawned on Alice's face; her amusement mirrored in her strange smile. "Oh! True, you're right. Do you have it?"
The rabbit produced a small mirror from his jacket. Its frame was a work of artistry, a silvery creation adorned with two figures, a man and a woman, locked in a timeless embrace.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Alice's giggled after grabbing the mirror, then her fingers found their way to the rabbit's ears, lifting him into an embrace, and cuddling him as a teddy bear.
"Please, Miss Alice! I'm not a toy!" The rabbit protested, its words echoing in Steve’s ears.
Her apology was swift, her embarrassment genuine. "I'm so sorry! It was not my intention." And as the rabbit bid Steve and her farewell, he disappeared sprinting into the darkness. Alice's hand waved in a final farewell. "Thank you, see you later!"
Left with the lingering energy of the rabbit's departure, Steve's question hung in the air like a veil of uncertainty. "What now?"
Alice's response was practical, her gaze directing his attention to a colossal sundial that stood tall in the center of their unique environment. It was a structure of grandeur, a work of art in polished white marble that seemed to defy the very essence of time. The gnomon of the sundial stuck up as a proud marker of the hours, its golden glow in stark contrast to the obsidian backdrop.
With a gesture that encompassed the splendor before them, Alice's machinelike voice carried the weight of her explanation. "Could you go see that clock?" Her hand, an invitation toward understanding, extended toward the sundial.
And as his eyes landed upon the intricate details of the sundial, the words engraved in gold on its surface glowed as fireflies. "Tempus Fugit." Time flies—its translation was both an affirmation and an irony in this realm.
Alice's voice called his father’s attention. "Do you see the time? This indicates that we still have enough. From here, we can reach anywhere we imagine."
With her words as the catalyst, the scenery shifted, and the darkness and cloudy blue skies gave way to a new world. As Steve's surroundings transformed, he found himself standing in a grand hall—the very lobby of the main building of the court of Jäävarasto, a sight that had been etched into his memory through a mere guidebook. And at the center of this majestic space stood the very sundial that had transported them here, its symbolism as potent as ever. The presence of Peacewalkers in their distinctive attire added an air of authenticity to their surroundings. Their presence brought a new dimension to the place, confirming their location.
Alice's purpose was clear as she approached one of the Peacewalkers. The man, his stature mirroring Alice's own, moved with a purpose that seemed oblivious to the two new intruders in their midst. And as Alice's hand touched the soldier’s arm, and her fingers brushed his forehead, a transformation occurred. The man stood immobile, trapped in a trance-like state that rendered him impervious to the world around him.
Steve's intrigue gave way to a question. "What did you do?"
"As much as it seems like we are in the main court's building, we are currently inside the mirror and they are out. That's why they cannot notice our presence."
Her explanation was grounded in reason, yet it was still a revelation that defied the norms of reality. And as Steve absorbed her words, he couldn't help but marvel at the intricate mechanics of this world beyond the mirror.
Alice's voice continued, offering further insight into their unique situation. "That's how I could touch this man without risking being caught. This soldier will never realize what happened. Since he didn’t create this world we are."
“What do you mean?”
“This world is like a wormhole,” she grinned.
Steve frowned. The dissonance between Alice's ordinary persona and her sudden state seems striking. As her words continued to pour forth, Steve found himself captivated and mystified, caught in a web of theories that seemed both unfathomable and somehow, logical.
“A wormhole allows horizontal time travel. This could be accomplished by accelerating the trailing end of a wormhole at a higher speed relative to its other end. As a result, the accelerated mouth of the wormhole ages slower than the static one. Anything that comes out from the accelerated wormhole’s mouth would exit from the stationary mouth at a point before its entry time. That's what I've created.”
Steve furrowed an eyebrow, his words a reflection of his struggle. "Wait… what?"
Alice's smile carried an air of gentle patience, a wisdom beyond her years shining through. "Father, didn’t you ever notice the time in the sundial?” Alice's voice was spectral and soothing, making him feel like a grandson listening to his grandma’s wise advice.
“It is 5:00 AM, but outside the mirror, it's 2:45 PM," she continued, her gaze drifting upward to the expanse of the sky.
Steve's confusion remained, his fingers scratching his chin as he grappled with the complexity of Alice's revelation. "5:00?… How?"
"We're in a parallel time, and what unites us to the world where we come from is a wormhole, that hole is what I call ‘the Mirror’. And what we did to get here is called bilocation," she paused, allowing her words to settle in the air.
He sighed, his eyes searching for meaning in Alice's revelations. "You are talking nonsense. Are we even speaking English?"
In response, Alice stood before him with quiet resolve, her eyes filled with a deep understanding that transcended the ordinary. “Sit,” her request was both a command and an invitation.
As the antechamber melted into darkness once again, the solemnity of the moment intensified, the sundial their only source of illumination. Its presence remained a constant reminder of the temporal paradox they existed within, its shadow defying logic in the most baffling of ways.
Alice sat in front of him and extended her hands, placing them in a position as if she were trying to levitate an object, one hand above and the other below, leaving an opening of several inches The blossoming reddish light that emanated from her palms seemed to hint at the very fabric of the universe being manipulated in her grasp. The galaxy-like disc that materialized was a testament to her control over the energies that surrounded her, a physical manifestation of her extraordinary abilities.
From the dot of red light in perpendicular directions, above and below, emerged two whirlwinds. They swirled counter to each other.
The explanation flowed from her lips, her words painting a vivid picture of the extraordinary phenomenon unfolding before Steve's eyes. The concept of quasars, black holes, and white holes danced with a complexity that was at once dizzying and awe-inspiring. And as two whirlwinds emerged, their dance of counterbalance mirrored an intricate ballet of cosmic forces that Alice seemed to command.
"What is that?" Steve's voice broke the silence.
"It is a quasar, cores of young galaxies.” Alice's response was both unemotional and profound, a monotone, with no stress nor swag in her speech. “I've created it using the Aether around us. Eaten by a black hole that is my left hand, and poured through a white hole, which lets out the energy using my right hand."
Her gaze, once distant, now focused on Steve, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Now I'll answer everything you asked before." Her words were a promise, a reassurance that the enigma of their situation would be unraveled in due time.
As she turned her attention to her hands, her voice regained a touch of detachment, a whisper of a scholar lost in her own thoughts. "What we did is called bilocation. It’s when a person or an object is located in two different places at the same time."
The transition was seamless, the celestial body beside the first one a testament to Alice's mastery over the forces she conjured. The birth of the second quasar was a mirror of the first, the cosmic dance a repetition of the arcane art Alice wielded with ease.
And then, Alice chuckled offering a glimpse of the endless possibilities her power held. "This one was just birthed, but what if we accelerate their evolution millions and millions of years?" Her giggles danced through the air, a harmonious symphony with the celestial ballet unfolding before them.
As the quasar expanded and evolved, Steve's stare remained rooted in the spectacle. The transformation was swift, with galaxies merging, and stars igniting and dying in a cosmic dance that spanned epochs in mere seconds. The collision of galaxies, the birth of new formations—all of it unfolded in a breathtaking display that transcended the boundaries of time itself.
"We already have two galaxies, which I'll name Steve and Alice. Just like us."
Their collision was an explosion of forces, a fusion of energies that sent shockwaves through space itself. Their merge was a breathtaking tapestry of star clusters, gas, and stardust that illustrated the boundless potential of Alice's power.
And as Steve grappled with the implications of the spectacle before him, Alice's words carried a sense of mischief, a promise of yet more wonders to come. "What if we speed up the process a bit more?" Her mischievous lips extended upwards.
The transformation was swift and startling, the once-vibrant galaxy imploded and then reduced to mere dust. "What happened?" Steve asked, eyes wide open.
"It's dead." Alice’s words carried a weight that echoed through the void.
He blinked faster, not knowing what to ask.
“I want to show you something else,” the shift in focus was abrupt, Alice's hand reached out to his ear, and as if she were a magician, she grabbed a small bird's egg. Her actions were deliberate, her movements as gentle as they were intentional. "Isn’t it cute!?" The egg vanished, replaced by a newborn sparrow.
Steve nodded, his gaze capturing the delicate form of the young bird. The transformation that followed was swift, the fledgling evolved before his eyes, its plumage changing into bright and colorful feathers.
He attempted to poke at the bird. However, the bird pecked on his finger before flying away.
As the bird took flight, its brief existence unfolded before them, and Steve's curiosity remained unquenched. But then, in an instant, the bird's flight ceased, its existence extinguished as swiftly as it had begun. Alice's hand, a vessel of compassion, reached out to cradle the motionless creature— a stark reminder that even in the realm beyond the mirror, life, and death held their immutable grip.
“What happened? Why has it stopped moving?” Steve's eyes fixed on the lifeless bird in Alice's hands.
Alice's response was solemn, her movements graceful as she closed her hands, releasing the bird's remains in a gentle cascade of white ashes—a poignant final act.
"Ready to go, Father?" Alice raised her voice, shifting from solemnity to urgency. She stared at him.
"I’m always ready. I was watching your freak show."
"So come on, it's time!" Alice beamed.
The world around them shifted once more, the darkness giving way to blinding light as they found themselves transported to the Highest Judge’s office.
With the rabbit's mirror in hand, Alice commanded, "Tempus fugit." Her voice reverberated, the Latin phrase acting as a key to unlock the intricacies of time itself.
“Sicut nubes,” the sundial, a constant companion in their extraordinary journey, underwent its own transformation, shifting shapes in synchrony with Alice's incantation.
As the timer of the bomb ticked away, Alice's actions were precise, her words a catalyst for the unfolding of a plan only she could fully comprehend. "Velut umbra!" The world shifted once again, the boundaries between realms blurring as everything belonging to the world beyond the mirror vanished from sight.
"Five seconds left," Steve's voice cut through the air.
“Quasi naves.” She roared, as a last-ditch effort to avert catastrophe. And then, in a blaze of white light, the climax of their efforts surged forth. The room was awash with brilliance, a visual testament to the power Alice wielded.
The aftermath was a slow return to clarity, the residue of the blinding light lingering in their vision. The bombs were gone, their threat extinguished, leaving in their wake a sense of both relief and disorientation.
“You did it!” Steve rejoiced.
Yet, Peacewalkers shattered the fragile peace after forcing their way into the office. The violence that followed was both swift and brutal, the soldiers showing no mercy as they subdued Steve and Alice. The brawl was a whirlwind of chaos. A soldier hit Steve in the head with his rifle, leaving him unconscious.
Alice struggled trying to help her father. The soldiers' actions were ruthless, their brutality a stark reminder of the new power dynamics at play. She ran his way, but the soldier grabbed her by the neck of her dress. Then another Peacewalker kicked her in the belly.
“Father,” she murmured, before losing consciousness.