One could not mistake the stone of the walls and the conical growths falling from the roof in frozen stillicide as a real existence. Nor could she gather a handful of water from the floor, feel its heat and steam, and neglect her own senses. The sauna-hot water numbed her palm. It left her skin flushed. She tipped her hand and it poured down as liquid should. This place was as real as she wanted it to be. She felt comfortable here, and that was the problem. But reality was where her friends were. They were kind people she had known for a month. An extremely short while. And time made wispy illusion of even concrete memory. She sat in the seat the Self usually took, and found herself reluctant to leave. How much time had passed in the real world? What was a few minutes more? She tilted her head down and fell asleep.

When her eyes opened again the cave was still there. Nothing had changed. An occasional drop of water fell from the stalactites above. That was her timekeeper. Every twenty counts or so a ripple would disturb the flat pool. Was that the rate of passage for a second? But sometimes the drops came faster, in fifteen counts, maybe even ten. Her brow furrowed. A notion came to her. She flattened her palm against her chest and waited. The drop fell. Drip. Bump.

Of course that made sense. The human body had no concept of time in seconds or minutes or turns of the glass. It kept beat to the only tune that mattered. Even this cave was sustained by it, isolated as it was. Which made her think, why? Why did this place in her mind exist? She had become all too comfortable with avoiding herself. Her memories, holed and inconsistent. Her own body, mysterious and uncontrolled. And she had not been proactive in seeking help, happy to stay home if the Director did not call her.

In a way, that was the most consistent part of the life she remembered, or what little of it was available to be recollected. Through trial and tribulation, she persisted. The death of grandfather, the only man who had paid attention and the man who had saved her life, she simply acknowledged and moved on. How many more important matters would conveniently slip away, dripping, collecting elsewhere?

She looked to the center of the cave. There was no button there to call the elevator down. This place was not meant to be exited. So she crossed her legs and closed her eyes—but not to sleep—and counted the drips. And if she was calm and her head was clear, if she let go of that feeling of entrapment, she found something else could be heard: the faraway echoes of reality seeping through the stone.

“I am my own master.”

--

Lyssa lingered in the air above the lake, contemplating. It had been a long time since she saw with physical eyes. She had been content to listen from a place of comfort. And now she was here. Forced here, to be exact. By a veritable stranger. She looked inward and felt the walls and structure of the mind mansion. And in one step she appeared on its antechamber.

Stairs spiraled in twin helixes upward. They connected different floors and doors. Another seemed to shoot straight up, disappearing in the clouds. She could feel the presences within. Each was its own ego. Each was her in their own way. Some older than others.

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The door of fire and brimstone opened first.

“I don’t recognize you,” Sethlana said. She walked down the stairs with a hand on the bannister. A trail of smoke followed where she last touched.

In reality, Lyssa glanced down on her left hand. Black scales formed over her fingertips, threatening to crawl towards the rest of her hand as well. Flickers of flame leapt from her nails.

Lyssa looked back up in the realm of her psyche.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

Sethlana had made it onto the floor. She approached, one foot ahead of the other, her body clad in hot armor, fire dripping from her fingers.

“Did you put her away?” The Self asked. “The Primum? The one who governs us?”

“What if I say ‘no’?” Lyssa asked.

“I’d say let me take the throne,” Sethlana said. “If it wasn’t for me she would be dead. We would be dead. My coming saved us. She didn’t have the anger to even defend herself.”

“And if I say ‘yes, I did put her away’?”

“Are you toying with me?” Sethlana grasped Lyssa’s neck.

With her real senses Lyssa felt the black plate form around her windpipe, constricting.

“Because I’m near the end of my patience,” Sethlana continued. “Every day I watch this girl wander through life, wanting things but not taking them. She’s wasting her flesh, our flesh.”

A flash of light poured down from above. Another Self stepped out.

“Are we doing auditions?” Eury asked. “Because I’m stronger than this one.”

“I’m your senior!” Sethlana shouted.

“So Izanami should be the Primum,” Eury replied.

They both glanced at the concrete door on the ground floor.

“She is obviously not interested,” Sethlana said.

“Is it always like this,” Lyssa remarked.

“Who are you?” Sethlana demanded. “Which are you?”

The sky took a dark turn. Shadow raced down the spiral steps, coalescing into a Self in a dark dress.

“Shit, fun’s over,” Sethlana said with a sneer. She let Lyssa go. The plate around her neck splintered away.

“Back to equilibrium?” Eury asked.

Bildungsroman gave them both disapproving glances before approaching Lyssa.

“Sorry about this,” Bil said.

The temperature of the antechamber noticeably climbed.

“What!?” Sethlana strode back up and studied Lyssa’s face. “You predate even her?”

“Go back in your rooms,” Bil said. “All of you. Even you, Mercurial.”

The mist that had been quietly collecting in the shadow of the staircase dispersed. Sethlana walked away dismissively. Eury leapt upward in a blaze of light. Now two had the floor.

“Would you like me to return you to the cave?” Bil asked. “After my… defeat I’ve been considering the nuances of telepathy. I think I can undo what that Verruck did. The Primum has always been too comfortable with people.”

“Is she okay?”

“I can’t see into the cave.”

“I meant the professor.”

“Yes. She is alive. And excited. She is climbing out of the lake now. What a disgusting gift she has.”

“Switch me back, but after I deal with what’s coming,” Lyssa said.

“The M.A.G.E personnel is coming in some sort of supersonic jet,” Bil said. “It’s actively shielded by something technological but psychic at the same time. More of their gift hybrid machines, no doubt.”

“Can you pierce it?”

“Barely, yes. There are ten crew. None with significant gifts.” Bil frowned. “One of them I can’t read.”

“Whitworth?”

“No. This one is very odd. They’re not psychically shielded. I know they’re there. But I can’t… I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyssa said.

Her eyes opened in the real sky. She watched a dot approach in the distance. Her palms opened at the ready.