“Holy fuck,” Peter breathed.
“Indeed,” Kora murmured.
“I second that,” Eun whispered.
They were staring at a brain. Suspended in soft blue liquid, contained in what looked like an oversized plasma ball. Bolts of energy—each surrounded by spiraling chains of symbols and designs—were dancing from the brain to the surface of the ball. Nordic runes, Buddhist mandalas, Greek symbols…the characters shifted and morphed, constantly changing in color and size.
Peter downshifted his perception. The mess of symbols disappeared. “Hey—guys.” He studied a six-foot pentagram drawn beneath the ball. “Check it out.” He pointed at a grimoire, one of seven arranged on the pentagram. “The Necronomicon. It’s not even a real book. Lovecraft invented it so he could use it in stories.”
Kora squinted at it. She shook her head, irritated. “How do you deactivate the zen zaps?”
“Visualize a downward spiral, as if you were standing above it and looking into its center.”
Kora did so, then appraised the grimoire. “Back at the Forge, we took classes on the Old Ones. It wasn’t a big deal; they hadn’t been seen for several millennia…”
“Hold on—” Peter threw her a disbelieving look. “H.P Lovecraft…he wasn’t writing about real shit, Kora.”
Kora shrugged. “One man’s fiction is another man’s truth. If existence is infinite, that’s just how it is. Somewhere, some when, all of it’s expressed. Otherwise, you’d be placing limits on a limitless existence. Just because you haven’t experienced something doesn’t mean it’s not ‘real.’ ”
“How is Batman real?” Peter argued. “He’s just a—”
“Peter, we’re already living in a hallucination,” Eun said. “We can only see three percent of the electromagnetic spectrum. Our ears, nose, tongue, and skin…same deal. Back at the dance, you said life is an illusion. Why dispute an unlimited reality, when you can’t detect the limits of existence?”
“It’s just that—” he looked back and forth between Kora and Eun, then down at the ground. “Never mind,” he muttered. He nodded at the brain. “What now? Spell of translation, right?”
Kora intoned: “Lyshalian Uhl-Nagio.” Then she uttered three noises that made Peter and Eun flinch with surprise. The first sounded like the purr of a muscle car, the second like a roaring tiger, and the third was a piece of vocal artistry—a melodic trill that would make Mariah and Christina turn green with envy. They looked expectantly at the brain. Nothing happened.
“Let’s try it Slideways.” Peter snapped his fingers and flexed his will.
Just like before, the brain was surrounded by symbol-threaded lightning, but now it was all swirling together, condensing into a nexus of energized data—a gyrating circle of intensifying light.
Peter blurted, “Guys, maybe we should—”
Before he could finish, the glaring locus shot toward them—SHOOOOOM!—like a real-life hadouken. Kora yelled, “GUARD YOURSELF!” Eun shouted, “WATCH OUT!”
The sparkling discharge abruptly halted a few feet away, then morphed into a slat of cool blue light. Incandescent waves rolled across it. Its innards filled with fluxing characters. Like Matrix code, only three dimensional and a helluva lot cooler.
“Whoa,” Peter whispered. “It’s made out of psychic mind-stuff.”
Eun scrutinized the holographic display. “I think it’s…I think it’s a control panel.”
“For what?” Peter asked.
Kora reached out. A spike of energy blazed from its surface. She snatched her hand back but a long, luminous strand extended from the panel, keeping her fingers connected to its center.
“You’re attached to it!” Peter shouted. “Holy shit—what if it impregnates you?” He threw a panicked glance at Eun. “You’ve seen Aliens, right? If we don’t do something, then—”
“Peter, would you calm the hell down? We don’t know what it is!”
He regarded Kora with doubt and suspicion. “If you grow a chest burster, I will take you out. Nothing personal—just saying.”
Kora smiled dryly. “You’re welcome to try, meat.”
“Look.” Eun pointed, directing their attention back to the construct. On either side of the emergent strand, symbols began to bubble and roil. “I think…” Eun leaned in and examined the characters. She turned to Peter. “I think we should touch it.”
“What?” He shook his head. “No way. No way. There is no way in hell I’m gonna touch that sh—”
“So what do you suggest?”
The question stopped him in his proverbial tracks. Eun and Kora waited patiently.
“I guess…fuck.” He hissed through his teeth. “Yeah…okay. Fine.”
“We’ll do it together,” Eun said. “You ready?”
He took a breath, suddenly aware of a piercing irony. He’d spent his life trying to break through (sometimes destroy) society’s membranes, but here, now, confronted with the prospect of actually touching another dimension, he was goddamn terrified.
“Peter?” Eun prodded.
“Right,” he muttered. “Let’s do this.” His knees were shaking. So were his hands.
“Come on, Peter.” Eun strolled up to it without hesitation.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a step forward. He wanted to snap at her, but he was focused on the mechanics of placing one foot in front of the other.
“Ready?” Eun asked.
“Ready.” A slight quaver ran through his voice.
The three teens reached for the slat. Light crawled up their arms, sketching fantastic patterns as it twined and wove around their shoulders.
Holy fucking shit, Peter thought.
Outlines of helmets materialized on their heads, filling in with glimmering color. Visors clunked down over their eyes, filtering their sight through a flat section of see-through light. A sheen of purple, green, and indigo flashed across it, then—
“Whoa.” Peter was looking through auric haze, all of it speckled with fast-moving data. He felt a clutch of tendrils slithering across his scalp, and—
—hook into his brain, connecting his thoughts with the luminous information encasing his body.
“I know kung fu,” he whispered.
Eun grinned through her holographic helmet. “Same.”
It felt like harmonious music was rushing through them, flooding their veins with anticipatory delight. The light built and peaked, then jumped off their bodies, ensconcing the three of them in a blazing hurricane.
Their eyes rolled up and they crumpled to the ground.
Peter was sucked into a giant, radiant tunnel. The end of it shone with pure white light, drawing him forward with breathtaking speed. Technicolor haze flew past him, surrounding him in a fog of undulating hues.
[YeeeeeeHAAAAA!!!] Eun screamed delightedly.
Kora brought her knees up, steadying herself (due to the energy rocketing past them, it took a deliberate act of will to keep her thought-form stable) and pushed to her feet. Golden threads formed beneath her. They traced out an oval in neat, right-angled links.
Kora, barbarian valley girl, was now standing on a psychic surfboard.
She lowered to a crouch, riding the aether with the languid ease of a big wave surfer. Eun had formed her own board; hers was made from soothing blue.
[Fuck!] Peter yelled. [How do I—]
[Relax!] Eun yelled back, climbing a crest of purple fractals. She dipped down, gripped her board, and launched into a 720 spin. [It’ll form on its own!]
[Don’t you have to channel your will or someth—]
[You’re overthinking it!]
A snippy retort flashed through his mind: Overthinking it—how is that possible? This place is MADE of thought! But he bit it back, closed his eyes, and did his best to let everything go. The military-industrial complex, Kora, Bitefighter, Holly…it was all just…all just…
He felt something firm press against his feet. He opened his eyes and looked down. A board was assembling, forming from traces of emerald scrollwork. Color flooded its luminous center, then a bright glare slid across its length, locking it into solid “reality.”
[WHOOO!] Eun launched off another wave, trailed by dots and strobing curlicues. Kora streaked under her in a long, sinuous slalom, grinning devilishly over her shoulder.
[Race you.] she projected to Peter.
Peter grinned back and crouched low, slicing across a stream of pure imagination. Quick-winking data slipped past his face, ruffling his hair and caressing his cheeks. The three teens settled into a rhythm, cutting across pixelated valleys of cognition and wit, imagery and feeling. Data hissed up from the backs of their boards, marking their passage with striking fantails.
Up ahead, the core of white light lurched inward, then bounced out into a giant dome made of silvery strands. They couldn’t see into it; there was a milky haze between its polyhedral sections.
[LOOK OUT!] the three of them shouted.
And then they were in it.
They tumbled across an alabaster floor, their surfboards disintegrating into wireframe scatters. A second later they slid to a stop.
Peter sat up and looked around. [What the hell?]
They were on a floating platform, maybe fifty yards across, enclosed by the silvery, webby haze they’d seen from outside. Whirling radiance shone past the haze, but it was heavily muted by the polyhedral barrier.
[Look.] Kora pointed at the center of the dais. Protruding from the floor was a plain, elegant table, made of smooth alabaster, just like the platform. She pushed to her feet and walked toward it. Peter and Eun did the same.
A holographic image flared into existence above the table. It was trying to take shape but clearly failing—a disjointed mess of crackling, vertical lines. For a brief instant, it formed into the Timekeeper, then broke apart into erratic blips.
[Holly is—] His fractured speech was unintelligible. [—she’s still—] BZZRT. [—sync with—] ZZRCH. A few more seconds of inaudible garble, then the holo disappeared.
Peter said, [Do you think that—]
Before he could finish, a pair of slow-flashing words—OPEN and CLOSE—appeared above the table. They gyrated lazily, tracing the outline of a sphere as their axes shifted with each revolution. The three teens exchanged a glance.
[Do you think we should touch it?] Peter asked.
[I don’t know.] Eun ventured. [Something feels off.]
[What do you mean?] Kora asked.
[I don’t know…] Eun chewed her lower lip. [Something.]
Kora shook her head. [Sorry, but ‘something’ isn’t good enough.] She reached for the word OPEN. It was upside down, in the middle of a sluggish somersault.
[Wait.] Eun grabbed her hand.
[What?] She raised an eyebrow, mildly irritated.
[It’s just…just that…]
Kora looked stern. [Eun, if we don’t restore balance, things are gonna keep getting worse.]
[I know!] Eun snapped. She closed her eyes and took a breath. [But we should try and figure out what he was saying before—]
[Eun,] Peter projected. [There’s a lot at stake here. We can’t give in to fear.]
She was instantly pissed. [I’m NOT, dumbass! All I’m saying is—]
[Enough.] Kora declared. And before Eun could protest, the barbarian princess laid her hand on the word OPEN.
Their geodesic enclosure began to dissolve; the lines at the top faded downward, the haze between them fading as well. The environment outside turned from harmonized glow into a dark, slow soup. Above the table, light-woven imagery blinked into being, flickering through a jumble of scenes: Indashi warriors assaulting a mountain, Holly Dent astride a raptor. Screams and blood, fire and pain.
[She’s in my body!] Kora raged. [That BITCH!]
The image lit with flare-like brilliance. Pure blue light shot down from above, breaking the table into a thousand pieces. Kora tumbled back from the violent discharge. Eun and Peter turned away, shielding their faces with raised forearms. When they looked again, they saw the Timekeeper amidst its ruins. Not just his image—he was fully embodied. His handsome face was fraught with desperation.
[Get out of here!] he shouted. [NOW!]
[Hold on.] Peter raised his hands. [Why don’t we just—]
[THERE’S NO TIME!] the demigod yelled. [GET OUT OF HERE!]
[Guys!!] Eun pointed up, at a cloud of purple-black static. Tentacles grew from its mephitic center, slithering toward the three teenagers.
The Timekeeper swung his arm skyward. A flock of eagles—all rendered in glowing wireframe—erupted from his hand and flew at the cloud, their eyes glinting with spark-fire light. When they hit the tentacles, they exploded in spectacular bursts, sending waves of color rippling outward. The tendrils lurched back with each detonation, but no more than a few feet. After a brief pause they resumed their downward crawl, now accompanied by a sick boom of laughter—Joker-like cackles, mingled with beastly growls and the wet crack of snapping bones.
[Time to go.] Kora hissed. She sprinted toward Peter and Eun, extending her arms in a double clothesline and—
[WHOOF!] they exclaimed.
—hooked their waists in the crook of her elbows, taking them with her as she leapt off the edge of the alabaster platform. As they plunged downward, a terrible roar shook the aether, turning everything blurry for a gut-wrenching second. Peter barfed. The vomit took form as a leering matryoshka doll that gave birth to an endless series of smaller dolls, flying away into a whirl of dreamscape.
[KORA!] Peter screamed. [WE NEED TO GET UP THERE AND HELP THE TIMEKE—]
Eun interrupted: [IT’S CATCHING UP TO US!]
[Hang on.] Kora hissed.
She roared a melodic syllable, lighting her chest with star-core glimmer. The luminous flash raced up her throat and into her mouth, transforming her eyes into blazing supernovas. It pulsed from her lips and shot a hundred yards down, forming into a swirling nexus.
[THAT’S OUR EXIT!] Kora shouted. [HELP ME PUSH!]
Thanks to the Bloom’s auto-empathic properties, Peter and Eun instinctively knew what she meant by “help me push.” They extended their arms and gathered their will. Six inches in front of their palms, rainbow motes sprang into existence. They drew inward toward their hands, and—
—shot outward in a corona of energy, accelerating their descent and blasting their pursuer with concentrated discharge. A titanic howl erupted from above.
Goddamn, Peter thought dazedly as they reached the portal.
Like Iron Man’s repulsor blast—that’s Marvel as fuck.