I hate airports. It’s all too much--the enormous lines, the crush of people, and the tangible stress of schedules hanging in the balance. Nevertheless, I make every effort to see my parents since that is the one thing I truly love. Today is no different, except for the uncomfortable tug in my chest as I approach security. "Please remove any metal items," the security officer's voice cuts through the noise. I bite my lip, hesitating as my hand reaches for my wrist. The bracelet, L'œil de Sainte Lucie , has been my constant companion for over five years. I rarely remove it. Originating from Corsica, legend has it that it is more than just a piece of jewelry--it is protection, guarding me against the misfortunes of the world. Whenever I removed it in the past, something bad always happened. But this is airport security. I don’t have a choice. Reluctantly, I unclasp it, running my fingertips over the smooth shell before putting it into the gray basket along with my phone and suitcase. I pass through the scanner, glancing nervously back at the basket. After gathering my things, I reach inside for the bracelet, only to find nothing there. I feel my heart sink to my stomach. I look once more, rummaging in the basket. "No, no, no," I mutter under my breath, lifting each item in a frantic search. My bracelet is gone. I turn to face the security officer. "Excuse me," I murmur in a tense voice. "Did you see a bracelet? It was in this tray." The officer gives me a sidelong glance. "Everything that came through should be in your basket." "Well, it’s not." My voice has a hint of panic. "It's a little bracelet with a silver clasp and a white shell. I just put it in here." The cop, clearly used to stressed-out travelers, sighs. "It could have been misplaced if it's not in the tray. Check the lost and found area." "But--" I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure. "It was right here. Can’t you check the cameras or ask someone if they saw it?" "Ma'am, there’s a line behind you. If it turns up, we'll let you know. You can check with the information desk in the meantime." The officer motions for me to move along. For a moment, I wanted to argue some more, but I had little option given the growing line of passengers behind me. I move to the side, my heart pounding in my chest. Where could it have gone? Did someone take it? My gut twists at the thought. I look around, my eyes darting from passenger to passenger, wondering if someone had taken my bracelet. *** By the time I reach the counter, my nerves are shot. “Please tell me you’ve found a bracelet,” I say, clutching the edge of the desk. “It’s a white shell bracelet with a silver clasp. It’s very important.” The woman behind the counter glances at a stack of lost items and slowly shakes her head. “Sorry, nothing like that has come through today.” My heart sinks. I thank the woman and turn away, gripping my suitcase tightly. My head throbs with worry. Without that bracelet, I feel exposed and vulnerable. And even though it's only been a few hours, it feels like a lifetime. This is the longest I've gone without wearing my bracelet. The gaping hole in my arm seems like an obtrusive emptiness, a continual reminder that my protection is gone. Time crawls agonizingly, with each minute seeming to stretch into days. My mind races, thinking of all the horrible things that may happen while I'm without it. Paranoia swirls through my head as I walk away from the counter. What if someone took it? What if the security officer pocketed it when I wasn’t looking? Or maybe the person who passed through security just before me? I'm unable to let it go. It didn't make sense for the bracelet to just vanish into thin air. My gaze lands on a man with a large jacket pocket near the seating area. Could he have it? I march over, my voice trembling but determined. “Excuse me,” I say, trying to sound calm. “Did you happen to see a bracelet in security? A small white shell bracelet with a silver clasp?” The man blinks at me, startled by my sudden approach. “Uh, no? I didn’t see anything like that.” I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure? It was right there, and now it’s gone. You passed through security right before me, didn’t you?” The man shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as if looking for an escape. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t take your bracelet.” “Can I check your pocket, then?” I blurt out, my suspicion outweighing my manners. “If you’re innocent, you won’t mind proving it.” His face reddens, and he takes a step back, clearly offended. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. What’s your problem anyway? You think you can just accuse anyone?” “I’m not accusing,” I snap, though I can hear the desperation in my voice. “I just need to know. That bracelet is important to me, and it’s gone, and you were right there--” He raises his hands defensively. “Look, I didn’t take your bracelet, okay? Back off before I call security.” He brushes past me, leaving me standing there and feeling a growing sense of embarrassment. I take a deep breath, but my suspicion only grows. I spot another woman, a young mother struggling to keep her child calm. Maybe she took it when I wasn’t paying attention. “Excuse me,” I say, my voice tense. “I know this might sound strange, but did you happen to pick up a bracelet by mistake in the security line?” The woman looks up, flustered and already stressed with her crying child. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. I have my hands full here.” Her tone is sharp, irritated by the accusation. I press on, my voice desperate. “Please, just check. It’s really important, and I’m sure I had it before I went through security.” Her eyes flash with irritation. “Do you seriously think I’d steal your bracelet while I’m trying to handle my child? You think I have time for that?” “I’m not saying you stole it,” I stammer, taken aback by her anger. “I just... Maybe it got mixed up with your things. Can you at least check?” She glares at me, the baby crying louder in her arms. “I said no! I don’t have your bracelet, and I don’t appreciate being accused. Now, please, leave me alone!” I mumble an apology, retreating as heat flushes my cheeks. Now I'm just making a fool of myself. But my mind refuses to stop racing and obsessing about the possibility that someone has stolen my precious bracelet. Frustration clouds my judgment, and my rage begins to boil over. I start glancing around, eyeing everyone like a potential thief, my stress escalating. *** On my way to a café to get some water after running around for so long, I am nearly knocked over by a rushing passenger. I stumble, catching myself just in time but twisting my ankle in the process. "Ow!" I gasp, leaning on a nearby table. "This can’t be real..." Determined not to give in to superstition, I limp to the café. Just as I reach the counter, another passenger crashes into me, spilling a large cup of iced coffee all over my shirt. "Are you kidding me?" I groan, wiping futilely at the dark stain spreading across my chest. The man apologizes repeatedly, but it does nothing to quell my growing frustration. I find a bathroom and attempt to clean myself up, but my shirt is ruined. With a heavy sigh, I lean against the sink and look into the mirror. My hair is a mess, my ankle hurts, and my clothes are covered in coffee stains--all because I lost my bracelet. No, because someone has stolen it. I narrow my eyes as I think about the security officer who had been watching me closely. I can’t shake the feeling that he had taken it. Perhaps he was pocketing items from distracted passengers. Fueled by suspicion, I limp back to security and find the officer who checked my basket. "I need to speak to someone about my bracelet," I demand. The officer raises an eyebrow. "Ma'am, we've already checked. If it’s gone, there’s nothing we can do. Please, take it up with lost and found." I open my mouth to argue but stop short when a hand lands firmly on my shoulder. I turn around to find a stern officer staring down at me. "Miss, we've received complaints that you've been bothering other passengers," he says, "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." My heart sinks. "But my bracelet--" "Let's discuss it in a more appropriate setting," he interrupts, directing me to a small office off to the side. The room is cramped, with white walls and a single desk overflowing with paperwork. As we enter, a second officer, most likely the police chief, sits behind the desk, looking displeased. "What's the issue here?" he asks, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "My bracelet is missing," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "It must have been stolen. I've been trying to find it, but no one is helping me." The director leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "And that gives you the right to harass other passengers? Do you realize the trouble you're causing here?" "I'm not trying to cause trouble," I argue, feeling my frustration bubble over. "That bracelet is important to me. I know someone took it, and I can't just let it go." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with my reasoning. "Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but you can't go around accusing people without evidence. This is an airport, not a crime scene." My chest tightens as I realize how hopeless this situation has become. "Please, you have to help me. Just check with security one more time, or check the cameras--anything!" The director stares at me for a moment, then reaches for the phone on his desk. "Fine. I'll make one more call, but if they haven't found anything, that's it." He dials a number and speaks briefly with someone on the other end. My heart races as I listen, but the answer remains the same: nothing has been found. "Your flight is about to board," he says, hanging up the phone. "I suggest you head to your gate and stop bothering people, or we'll have to take further action." I nod numbly, feeling utterly defeated. "Thank you," I mutter before turning to leave. I can barely keep the tears from falling as I walk away, my feet dragging toward the gate. All hope feels lost--until, midway to the gate, I hear someone call out behind me. "Miss, wait!" I turn around to see another officer hurrying toward me, holding something small and shiny in his palm. "Is this what you were looking for?" he asks, holding out my bracelet. I gasp, relief coursing through my veins as I take it from him, my fingers trembling. "Yes! Oh, God, thank you! "Where did you find it?" "It had fallen behind the X-ray machine," he explains with a smile. "One of the maintenance crew found it while cleaning." Tears of relief prick my eyes as I fasten it back onto my wrist. "Thank you so much," I breathe, overwhelmed with gratitude. As I walk away, bracelet secure on my wrist, I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events lift off my shoulders. Everything that had gone wrong seemed to vanish into the background. Maybe it was all a coincidence, or maybe the bracelet really did protect me. Either way, I have no intention of taking it off any time soon. I smile softly to myself as I make my way toward my gate. Whatever awaits me on the other side of my journey, I will be ready.


Please, don’t do it. Jenny thought as George bent down on one knee. She looked away. She couldn’t bear to experience the embarrassment of what was about to happen. How could it be happening? There were literally no signs leading up to this. Jenny thought to herself, okay, let’s see. I woke up, everything seemed fine. I slept fine. Except for the slight crick in my neck. No biggie. Okay...got dressed...wait. No, I didn’t get dressed first, I went to the bathroom, then contemplated taking a shower or not. I still had one more good day of hair which meant no need to wash it and I hardly broke a sweat yesterday so I can probably go today without a shower...okay, so no shower. Then, I got dressed, fed the cats and dog, made coffee, read for a bit, wrote some words...How did this happen? My day was going normal? Why would he do this? Jenny peeked toward George through the side of her eye. He hadn’t moved. Were there signs of this? He had been acting a bit strange the last few days but he’s always a little strange, so that can’t be it. We didn’t even have that type of relationship. I mean, we have sex and all of that but we don’t even talk about the future or marriage or kids or buying a house or living together for that matter. He’s allergic to all my animals so he never stays over. How can he ask me to marry him if he can’t even be around my animals? He doesn’t expect me to GIVE THEM ALL UP, DOES HE? That’s a total deal breaker. I mean, I wasn’t even wanting him to marry me but if he did ask...I would say no so fast if it meant giving up my...I can’t even think about it. But I am thinking about it. I can’t believe this is how my day is going. Why? Seriously, why me? I thought he had another girlfriend on the side? I think he does. Doesn’t he? What am I saying? Of course, he doesn’t have another girlfriend. Now, I’m just reaching. Of course, I’m reaching! What am I supposed to say here? How am I suppose to answer? I don’t want to embarrass him. He probably took a lot of time to plan. I haven’t even given him any reason to do it. I mean, I THOUGHT I was giving him reason NOT to for crying out loud. I’ve done all the things to be great girlfriend material not wife material. Let’s see, I don’t bug him when he’s with his friends. I do all the sexy stuff his married friends say their wives don’t do. I answer his booty calls, even if I have a deadline the next day. I hope he doesn’t think great girlfriend equates to great wife?! Think about it Jenny. You don’t like cleaning. I know! I mean, I do the basics because, you know, I’m not a total slob and the cat and dog hair is really annoying, but dusting? Forget it! You aren’t much of a cook; although, you do make killer cookies. So true! I practically exist on nachos! I should have been a baker. Should have opened that bakery five years ago when I had the chance. Can you imagine where our life would be if I had opened the bakery? Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t be standing here replaying my life while hoping my boyfriend doesn’t propose to me in front of strangers, that’s for sure. Or would I? I can imagine it all now. I’m carrying a fresh tray of my award-winning peanut butter and jelly cookie bars to the bakery counter when Jack enters. He’s tall with dark wavy hair and blue green eyes. He’s the chef from the restaurant next door. He’s come for the mini dessert pastries I make for his restaurant. Good morning Jenny, he says, good morning, I say back smiling. I set my tray down and the side of my hand touches his. It feels electric. We lock eyes over the counter. Jenny, he says, I’ve never noticed how green your eyes are. He gazes intently into my eyes. How beautiful you look in the morning with your hair a mess and flour on your cheek. I hope this doesn’t sound forward. I know we’ve never dated or spent any time together beyond me picking up the pastries you bake but I have this overwhelming urge to take you in my arms and never let go. Oh Jack!, I say, trying to keep myself from fainting behind the counter. Jack takes my hand and leads me around the counter to the front where he is, scoops me into his arms and says, Jenny, I love you. I’ve loved form the moment I first met you. I just didn’t realize it until now. Please, do me the honor of marrying me. I can’t go a moment longer without you in my life. Oh yes!, I say, completely caught up in the magic of it all. Oh yes! I will marry you Jack! Then he kisses me just like in the movies, all soft and yet passionate. Fireworks go off in my head and people who I didn’t notice come into the bakery clap and cheer for us. Wow, that’s cheesy. I had no idea until now just how cheesy I am deep down. I cannot be that girl. No. The cheesiest I get is how much actual cheese I use while making nachos at home. That fantasy is so Hallmark. Not me. No way. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. It just can’t be me. Can it? Have I wasted so much of my life pushing people away with my animals and being good girlfriend material so no one falls in love with me and asks me? Am I not wife material? If I was wife material, I don’t think I would want George as my husband. He spends way too much time with his friends and never invites me along. He’s allergic to my animals AND he never sleeps over. I think he may have commitment issues or... maybe there’s someone else?! Of course! To think of all the times, I got out of bed, got myself sexy, and drove over to his house at 3 am just because he called and said he was horny and wanted me to come over. Well, that’s changing today is all I can say. No more miss nice guy. I mean gal. Next time he calls me in the middle of the night, I’ll tell him that’s what his hand is for buddy! Yeah. I’m going to start respecting myself more. Maybe go to the gym and start cooking healthier. Who am I kidding? I’m not going to the gym and nachos have all the food groups... so, ha! I don’t need him. I’ve got my animals to keep me company. I have plenty of work to do to keep me busy. Pretty sure if I called one or two of my friends, they would pick up and we could totally hang out. I mean, I’m pretty sure they would pick up. Whatever. I can make new friends. Meet new people and learn new things. I like this idea. A new start. New friends. New adventures. Yes. That’s what I’m going to do. From now on. It’s going to be out with the old and in with the new! I feel so empowered! I like this! I’m so excited, I’m not sure what to do first? Now, regarding the old. How do I break this new liberation to George? I don’t want to hurt his feelings even though he obviously hasn’t been too careful about mine this whole time I realize. Whatever I say, it has to be quick before he says whatever he’s going to say or ask and painless so neither one of feels bad. It’s not you, it’s me? So cliché. I mean, it isn’t completely wrong. He’s just not the right one for me. I’m ready to be free to meet new people and explore new things and he wants something else. Right? I’ll say, George, there’s someone else. He’ll become upset, I’m sure, and ask who. I won’t be able to tell him because I don’t even know if Jack exists in real life so that may not work. I can still say there’s someone else and that someone is me. Yes, I’m going to date myself and get to know the real me. I’m going to find out what I need to do to open a bakery next to a restaurant so someday I can meet the handsome owner/chef, fall in love, and live happily ever after. I’m sure he’ll be surprised and probably hurt but he’ll get over it. He’s good looking and charming and gets a long well with others. I’m sure another girl will come along in no time. It’s really better we get this out of the way now. Think of the time we would waste messing around when he could be with the woman of his dreams? It’s better this way. I believe it now. Okay, here goes. “George, I think we should stop seeing each other.” Jenny said as she turned toward George and looked down. He wasn’t on his knee anymore. He wasn’t even there. Where did he go? What the heck was going on? When did he leave? Where the heck did he go and how could he leave her standing there alone like that? “Jenny!” She heard her name being called and turned around. There was George walking toward her with another man. A tall man with dark wavy hair. “Jenny! Look who I saw across the park when I bent down to tie my shoe? My friend from college. He just opened a restaurant around the corner and waved me over to tell me about it. I told him about your killer cookies and he said he would love to try them. His name is Jack.” Jack?! A restaurant? Around the corner? Keep it together Jenny. Don’t blow it. This is your future...“Nice to meet you Jack. I make the best peanut butter and jelly bars you’ll ever have in your entire life.”


Millie was 23 years old when she eloped with her boyfriend. Born in 1951, some seventy years back, in Lucknow the city of nawabs, and the most populated city of India. Having lost her mother during her birth, her father, an overtly honest administrative officer in the government, gave her the very best upbringing he could. She grew up running around in the football fields and cycling with neighbourhood boys scraping her knees and coming back home covered in dirt and stinkingly filthy. Girls her age were not allowed as much freedom as she was. She was plain lucky as her dad returned late from work, seldom paying attention as to how she spent her day. Slowly, her identity as a tomboy developed among the girls, who preferred to stay away from her. As she blossomed into a young woman, she became very vocal about her likes and dislikes in the neighbourhood functions and get-togethers. When the neighbourhood women rebuked her on her miserable sense of dressing up, she found it discriminatory and when they commented on her impolite manners, she found it oppressive. She would appeal to break the pathetic divide that society builds up around how a boy should be raised and a girl should be perceived. Clearly, she was demanding transformational change. Her disregard of the expected stereotypical female roles infuriated the neighbourhood women who labelled her as stubborn and opinionated. Therefore her running away was not a shocker to them, for them it had always been her way or highway, and as expected it was the highway she took, albeit with her boyfriend. The memories of that day are still so vivid and fresh with me. Early morning Milli gave a closed envelope to their part-time maid to hand over to her father, and she left the house with bags and a bit in haste. The maid, not ready to come back in the evening for her father, went and handed the envelope to the next-door neighbour after finishing her work in the house describing the events of the day. The nosey neighbour finding Millie‘s attitude a little uncool tore open the sealed envelope. The letter inside turned out to be an apology addressed to her dad on her decision to elope. The news travelled across houses in our neighbourhood like fire and by noon from young to old all were talking about it but who could break this news to her sixty-year-old flailing father was the question. Millie was the third born, with two elder brothers, yet the only family was her father. Her brother, seventeen years older than her had settled in the USA. He seldom visited home. Her next brother, thirteen years older than her, was always away. Either at another city for a new job interview or trying to keep up the old one. Both being unavailable, it was the maid who was found both close and available to do the task. It must have been around four in the evening when women hanging on to balconies and windows saw the father walk down the narrow lane to his house. The maid was quickly summoned and handed over the responsibility as per the earlier instructions of Millie, with just a slight change. He returns home, she shall meet him, hand the letter and not the envelope for he would see it had been torn open. The maid, now aware of the situation, obeyed as told and coyly went to the door of the house and rang the bell. The father by now was inside and was just about to shout out at Millie for his evening cup of tea, he did not know had eloped. Since she was a little girl, Millie had always been waiting for her father. Standing near the staircase every evening as he would enter the hallway after opening the entry door with his set of keys. The small two-floor house would echo his voice as he would call out” Warm up the tea for me Millie and bring it to the drawing-room...while I change quickly and be back there, get yours too, we will have it together.” The maid could hear the footsteps approaching the double shutter door as the man opened it. She handed the letter to him with her head bowed down. Without making eye contact, she quickly receded the same lane as fast as she could. The snoopy neighbours saw the door closing and took a sigh of relief. Everything happened as per their carefully detailed plan, till they heard a scream that sounded like a cry of wild abandonment. A few neighbours ran out of their house and knocked at his door but he did not open it. He was far from the voices outside. Inside as the first wave of grief passed over him he walked towards the drawing-room and sank heavily in his favourite armchair. The letter clenched tightly in his fist as he closed his eyes and scenes from the past became alive. It was the usual Thursday, and he was bending upon the dining table over the newspaper circling the matrimonial ad where the grooms-to-be and their families advertise under the wanted bride section. Saturday and Sunday would pass away in the numerous meetings he would arrange with these suitable suitors and Millie hated it. Monday they would have a heated argument, Millie would call it a display of herself and he a meeting of minds, but the worst part was no suitor ever said ''yes” for Milli. She was nowhere presentable in the marriage market where stubborn patriarchal traditions reigned, and her offensive style of dressing, her barely five feet tall frame, and her big mouth that never stopped her ideology to escape failed her always. How many Thursdays to Monday this repeated like a ritual he could not recall, 20,40,52 his memory was failing. All he recalled was Millie’s strong headedness “I won’t allow men to hush me” she would always say in her defence and then latest that was added last week was "``People claim to be open-minded but can't accept an educated woman, all they want is a doll to display with their drawing room furniture”. Millie herself had just finished a degree course in architecture in Lucknow itself and so the outburst. He felt exhausted, drained, and fatigued. The same way he always felt after those constant arguments. Those arguments increasingly made him insensitive towards his daughter's desires. His hands slumped to his side and the letter dropped from his hand, his thoughts knotted around his very neck a hangman knot barely allowing him to breathe, he gasped for air, and a delicious scent of rain hit his nostrils from an open window. With great effort, he opened his eyes and looked in that direction. He saw large patches of grey rain-laden clouds passing over the big white sky and heard the deafening sound of a thunderbolt. As he looked around he saw the newly rain-washed trees swaying. The sound of birds chirping in shrieking tones gave an orchestra kind of environment. High up a big bolt of lightning slashed across the sky, creating a narrow creek that quickly shaped into a deep dark ditch. A gust of whispering winds swayed above his head for a brief moment, he saw them shape into the big black hole of the society before being pulled into the ditch by a mysterious skyward force. The big black hole that had been sucking his daughter’s ideology, devouring all her joys and desires ferociously was completely gone. She was free. Free from the male-dominant society that labelled men and women with roles. Free from the system in which men have more power than women. Free from living the same system for days, weeks, and months. Free from the endless perusal of the right man. Winter, summers, and all seasons would be for her to enjoy. Many opportunities would lie ahead for her to seek. His heart began racing fast with the abundance of joy that he felt reverberating inside him. He felt incapable of holding so much joy and felt a strange tightening around his chest, he quickly breathed a silent prayer to live longer and witness it all. Elopement wasn't bad; it was the only way to throw the rule book away. Yes, that was it! Everything seemed clear. He was engulfed by a deep desire to hold her in his arms, to wash away the guilt, the shame, and the pain. To see her smile when he would tell her that dad would be by her side when she would stand against age-old society rules. It was time to celebrate and to rejoice. He tried to get up but his feet gave way and he felt the force of his falling on his back. His chest tightened further, his lips parted, his breathing became heavy, and he felt the blood draining from his very fingers. He tried moving them but they lay motionless, he tried moving his legs but they seem strapped to the ground, he tried moving his head up but it just felt like a ton of dead stone on his neck, it was his eyes that moved and he looked up. The storm had subsided, the air was clean and the sky was white. The formations, the creek, the ditch, the big black hole, all seemed to have disappeared as fast as they had appeared to him. Ultimately, every death is different - and you can’t predict who will get a better one. But this one for sure was peaceful. It is very much possible that the man experienced his most profound moment just before death embraced him when he finally conceded with his daughter's viewpoint.


“Mayaaaa, what on earth are you trying to do “yelled Shyam.” Press the brake damn it, the car is out of control, are you out of your mind, have you forgotten to drive, an ace racer is not able to drive a Cherokee. What is wrong with you, if you don’t put the brakes we will fall off the cliff. “Oh, just shut up Shyam, I’m not able to pull the car to a halt; there is something wrong with the brakes.” I cannot even shift the gears, Oh god, Shyam we are going to die”, yelled Maya. There was screeching sound and a rumble, the car dashed ahead and went topsy turvy and fell off the cliff with a bang. It rumbled down like a toy and with passengers yelling for help. The car banged onto the rocky mountain and there was a blast of fire. The car was burnt into ashes. “Maya, my sweet heart how long will you take to dress up, you are naturally beautiful , you don’t need any extra makeup, come its already late to the party” mumbled Sam. “Oh, Sam, stop annoying, I will be ready in a jiffy, and you know we girls need some time to look beautiful”. Sam, Maya’s dear husband was a simpleton but with an intellectual soul. He was very clever and intelligent and his creations were so fantabulous that he had made a mark in the field of science and technology. A scientist who had created the most intelligent robot which was capable of rebuilding its own replica, Robot which could clone itself and order the other clones to perform their functions. A perfect humanoid indeed. Today was the launch party of his humanoid and Maya and Sam were very excited. They reached the venue and they were given a red carpet welcome. Sam’s creation was an unbelievable miracle. A Robot which could perform almost all functions which a human could do. It was a creation which couldn’t have been just dreamt of. Sam’s 10 year hard work and intellectual mind was the output a perfect robot which could be considered a human by mistake. The whole venue was thronged by journalists, media persons, and business men and Sam’s friends were also present along with numerous scientists. They were overwhelmed by the creative skills of Sam. Sam was a perfect human and his creations were the same. He had only one weak point and that was Maya, his love life and loving wife. His friends unleashed their memories of their school and college days. “Hey Sam and Maya where is your another buddy, not to be seen, I do remember his name, yes he is Shyam, where is he now he should’ve been on the front in your launch party”, exclaimed a friend. Just then Maya intervened saying, “Oh, Shyam had some work and he is out of the country, he will be back in few days, he has wished us luck”. Maya, Sam and Shyam were best buddies from their childhood days. Sam an intellectual mastermind , Shyam was a perfect businessman material and Maya the beauty queen. All three were different in their attributes but together in friendship. Maya made her debut in the fashion world. Shyam did his MBA in a prestigious University and Sam one of the most creative scientist. The launch party was a super hit. The Humanoid created by Sam was so perfect that everybody admired the miracle. The humanoid was almost like a human it could walk , talk , and sit dress up speak like any normal human being. It was far more intelligent than humans. It could perform complex calculations in a jiffy. It was a perfect chef which could prepare any type of cuisine within few seconds. Everything was perfect . The businessmen who were gathered wanted to buy his product and they thronged around Sam to discuss with him. But Sam didn’t accept it. “I created him because I m passionate towards science and technology. My creation is not for money making, it’s because I love innovativeness hence a human form of a robot. He rejected the best offers and ,after all the noisy launch party both Maya and Sam were completely exhausted. They just forgot to put the robot in his cabin. He was not completely finished yet. There were minor discrepancies to be jotted out. The robot was truly a masterpiece. He reached his master’s house within a jiffy before Maya and Sam could reach home. Maya was exasperated by the speed of the robot. She was overwhelmed that she hugged the robot tight. The touch of a human made the robot tremble with anxiety. He was just a machine but he felt her touch. After that incident the robot had a complete transformation, he always wanted to get closer to Maya and this was an issue to worry about. Shyam had not returned for months together. His family members smelled something fishy about his missing. His missing complaint was registered and Sam and Maya were the first to be interrogated. As this was a high profile case ,Shyam was an aspiring business tycoon there was a strict investigation. The police couldn’t get much information from Maya and Sam. But the result of their investigations were truly shocking. Sam was busy in his research work and Maya as usual was getting dressed up for a fashion show of a famous designer who was also her best friend. The police barged in a knocked the door. “ Excuse us Mr. and Mrs Sam, I think it’s time you both accept your crime. You cannot hide your sins behind your fair skin.” Maya and Sam were shocked “ What on earth are you saying , cop.”.”What have we done” yelled Maya. “ Will you confess about your dear’s friend’s death, or should we use other methods to do so”. Maya broke down, she started crying. Sam spoke”, yes we confess that we killed our own friend , but he was eyeing on my beautiful Maya which was very annoying hence we planned a kill”.” Is that it or is there something hidden which the world should know”. Maya was still crying. Sam opened up saying “ No Sir, I wanted a perfect human trial for my robot and Shyam was my guinea pig”. “I had to finish him hence we planned a kill”. Maya took him to a long drive and acted as if the car was out of control , she jumped off the car before the car fell into the cliff. Shyam died on the spot, and we took his body for my research”. “ My creation is always exemplary, the humanoid robot is none other than Shyam” “Yes we know it”. Sam and Maya were shocked to hear,” “how do you know that the robot is Shyam himself”. The cop replied “ Yes your are a master creator, but you are a criminal too, the creation is a true master piece indeed , he approached me and so we are here” . Maya and Sam were shocked . There was robotic smile on Shyam’s face the humanoid. “Mayaaaa, what on earth are you trying to do “yelled Shyam.” Press the brake damn it, the car is out of control, are you out of your mind, have you forgotten to drive, an ace racer is not able to drive a Cherokee. What is wrong with you, if you don’t put the brakes we will fall off the cliff. “Oh, just shut up Shyam, I’m not able to pull the car to a halt; there is something wrong with the brakes.” I cannot even shift the gears, Oh god, Shyam we are going to die”, yelled Maya. There was screeching sound and a rumble, the car dashed ahead and went topsy turvy and fell off the cliff with a bang. It rumbled down like a toy and with passengers yelling for help. The car banged onto the rocky mountain and there was a blast of fire. The car was burnt into ashes. “Maya, my sweet heart how long will you take to dress up, you are naturally beautiful , you don’t need any extra makeup, come its already late to the party” mumbled Sam. “Oh, Sam, stop annoying, I will be ready in a jiffy, and you know we girls need some time to look beautiful”. Sam, Maya’s dear husband was a simpleton but with an intellectual soul. He was very clever and intelligent and his creations were so fantabulous that he had made a mark in the field of science and technology. A scientist who had created the most intelligent robot which was capable of rebuilding its own replica, Robot which could clone itself and order the other clones to perform their functions. A perfect humanoid indeed. Today was the launch party of his humanoid and Maya and Sam were very excited. They reached the venue and they were given a red carpet welcome. Sam’s creation was an unbelievable miracle. A Robot which could perform almost all functions which a human could do. It was a creation which couldn’t have been just dreamt of. Sam’s 10 year hard work and intellectual mind was the output a perfect robot which could be considered a human by mistake. The whole venue was thronged by journalists, media persons, and business men and Sam’s friends were also present along with numerous scientists. They were overwhelmed by the creative skills of Sam. Sam was a perfect human and his creations were the same. He had only one weak point and that was Maya, his love life and loving wife. His friends unleashed their memories of their school and college days. “Hey Sam and Maya where is your another buddy, not to be seen, I do remember his name, yes he is Shyam, where is he now he should’ve been on the front in your launch party”, exclaimed a friend. Just then Maya intervened saying, “Oh, Shyam had some work and he is out of the country, he will be back in few days, he has wished us luck”. Maya, Sam and Shyam were best buddies from their childhood days. Sam an intellectual mastermind , Shyam was a perfect businessman material and Maya the beauty queen. All three were different in their attributes but together in friendship. Maya made her debut in the fashion world. Shyam did his MBA in a prestigious University and Sam one of the most creative scientist. The launch party was a super hit. The Humanoid created by Sam was so perfect that everybody admired the miracle. The humanoid was almost like a human it could walk , talk , and sit dress up speak like any normal human being. It was far more intelligent than humans. It could perform complex calculations in a jiffy. It was a perfect chef which could prepare any type of cuisine within few seconds. Everything was perfect . The businessmen who were gathered wanted to buy his product and they thronged around Sam to discuss with him. But Sam didn’t accept it. “I created him because I m passionate towards science and technology. My creation is not for money making, it’s because I love innovativeness hence a human form of a robot. He rejected the best offers and ,after all the noisy launch party both Maya and Sam were completely exhausted. They just forgot to put the robot in his cabin. He was not completely finished yet. There were minor discrepancies to be jotted out. The robot was truly a masterpiece. He reached his master’s house within a jiffy before Maya and Sam could reach home. Maya was exasperated by the speed of the robot. She was overwhelmed that she hugged the robot tight. The touch of a human made the robot tremble with anxiety. He was just a machine but he felt her touch. After that incident the robot had a complete transformation, he always wanted to get closer to Maya and this was an issue to worry about. Shyam had not returned for months together. His family members smelled something fishy about his missing. His missing complaint was registered and Sam and Maya were the first to be interrogated. As this was a high profile case ,Shyam was an aspiring business tycoon there was a strict investigation. The police couldn’t get much information from Maya and Sam. But the result of their investigations were truly shocking. Sam was busy in his research work and Maya as usual was getting dressed up for a fashion show of a famous designer who was also her best friend. The police barged in a knocked the door. “ Excuse us Mr. and Mrs Sam, I think it’s time you both accept your crime. You cannot hide your sins behind your fair skin.” Maya and Sam were shocked “ What on earth are you saying , cop.”.”What have we done” yelled Maya. “ Will you confess about your dear’s friend’s death, or should we use other methods to do so”. Maya broke down, she started crying. Sam spoke”, yes we confess that we killed our own friend , but he was eyeing on my beautiful Maya which was very annoying hence we planned a kill”.” Is that it or is there something hidden which the world should know”. Maya was still crying. Sam opened up saying “ No Sir, I wanted a perfect human trial for my robot and Shyam was my guinea pig”. “I had to finish him hence we planned a kill”. Maya took him to a long drive and acted as if the car was out of control , she jumped off the car before the car fell into the cliff. Shyam died on the spot, and we took his body for my research”. “ My creation is always exemplary, the humanoid robot is none other than Shyam” “Yes we know it”. Sam and Maya were shocked to hear,” “how do you know that the robot is Shyam himself”. The cop replied “ Yes your are a master creator, but you are a criminal too, the creation is a true master piece indeed , he approached me and so we are here” . Maya and Sam were shocked . There was robotic smile on Shyam’s face, the humanoid.


# Happy Weekend, serialists! Welcome to Serial Saturday... ish! \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ ***New here?*** If you’re brand new to and thinking about participating in Serial Saturday, welcome! Feel free to dip your toes in by writing for this challenge or any others we have listed on the handy dandy! We appreciate all contributions made to this thread, and all submissions are of course welcomed, whether it addresses a previous challenge or the current one. We hope you enjoy your time in the community! Take a look at our inaugural Serial Saturday post for some helpful tips. You don’t need to catch up by writing for each of the previous assignments, feel free to jump right in wherever fits for you, with whatever assignment or theme fits for you, and post it on the current thread with a link to whichever previously posted challenge you chose to start with. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ # Genre Challenges Welcome to The Off Season, Part Deux, folks! For The Off Season, Part 2 we’re going to be embracing challenges: As an exercise in the name of fun and games shenanigans, we’re writing for an opposite of our usual genres this month. You *do not* have to use the exact phrase but as readers/listeners it should be clear that it’s incorporated in your story in some way. **YOUR ASSIGNED ELEMENTS:** / / *(You do not have to use these elements as they are used in the context of the gifs linked.)* \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ *Just as a reminder for people who want to jump in on Part 2 who didn't join us for Part 1:* If you usually write about movers and shakers, maybe this time you’re writing about powerless by-standers. If you write about spies or subterfuge, maybe this time you’re writing about utopian idealism. If you write magic and battles, maybe it’s time for a procedural by-the-book operation. If you're usually all about murder investigations for you last time, try out romance or coming of age. Internal struggles of the heart? Consider political drama. If you usually pen serious stories, consider a comedy, like a tall tale or satire. There’s a boatload of genres and subgenres of fiction out there to explore and it can be a difficult decision to land on what someone “should” write as an opposite of their last genre, so take some time to go over a and think about what would be a challenge for *you.* **This challenge is open to anyone and everyone, not just those with a current serial. Jump right in, folks, the water is just fine!** **\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*** **You have until \*next\* Saturday, 12/12, to submit and comment on everyone else's stories here. Make sure to check back on this thread periodically to lay some sweet, sweet crit down on those who don't have any yet!** \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* # Top picks from last week’s assignment, The Off-Season Part 1: **Fan favorite with the most votes:** /u/adlaiking, with a story that pulled us into a world we’re hoping makes a comeback next week. We need MOAR! This week the **Smoking Hot Challenge Sash** goes to an author that nailed the spirit of the assignment: /u/BLT_WITH_RANCH, with a beautifully written tale of love and loss. With six submissions this past week and nearly a 4 way tie, it was hard to pick only 2 mentions this time around. Seriously just go read all the stories, they’re quick reads and so enjoyable to see some genres that these writers are exploring, some of them for the first time. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ **The Rules:** * In the comments below submit a story that is between **500 - 850** words in your own original universe. * Submissions are limited to ***one*** serial submission from each author per week. * **Each author should comment on at least 2 other stories** during the course of the week. * That comment must include ***at least one*** **detail** about what the author has done well. * Authors who successfully finish a serial lasting longer than 8 installments will be featured with a modpost recognizing their completion and a flair banner on the sub. * Authors are eligible for this highlight post only if they have followed the 2 feedback comments per thread rule. *Yes, we will check*. * While content rules are more lax here at /r/ShortStories, we’re going to roll with the loose guidelines of "vaguely ***family friendly***" being the rule of thumb for now. If you’re ever unsure if your story would cross the line, feel free to modmail! \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ Reminders: * Make sure your post on this thread also includes links to your previous installments if you have a currently in-progress serial. Those links must be direct links to the previous installment on the preceding Serial Saturday post or to your own subreddit/profile. * Authors that complete a serial with 8 or more installments get a fancy banner and modpost to highlight their stories. * Saturdays we will be hosting a Serials Campfire on the main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and share your own thoughts on serial writing! We start on Saturdays at 9AM CST. **Don’t worry about being late, just join!** There’s a *Super Serial* role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Serial Saturday related news! **Join the** **to chat with prompters, authors, and readers!** Have you seen the? No? Oh boy! Here's the current cycle's challenge schedule.


# 6. Maggie’s Revenge Herb Withers watched in horror as Jeremiah raised his hitherto unused pistol. The barrel was pointed right at Herb’s chest, and before there was any chance to react, a deafening thunderclap rocked him backward. He wondered for a brief, confusing moment if he had been struck by lightning, but the warm sensation flowing from his back said otherwise. Shock and confusion ran through him in waves as he tried to keep his balance on his horse. If he could just stay upright, maybe they could get him back to town and do something about it. Darkness surrounded the hill, closing in on all sides. He looked up at the ominous, bloated sky above him. “I just wanted to see that man hung.” Blood bubbled from his mouth as he said it, choking him and making the words barely audible. In a snap, any and all sensation was gone and he was floating midair next to his horse. Staring at him were two men, both with hangmen’s marks around their neck and one with a neat bullet hole in the middle of his head. “Where the hell am I?!” Otis, still in shock from the events unfolding, shrugged. “You’re dead, but I don’t know if that’s going to be a problem for long at the rate she’s going.” He pointed a finger toward Maggie who was already recovering from her run-in with the barrier and headed back toward the fray. The horsemen spun around wildly, drawing their guns. “What the hell have you done, Jeremiah?” asked Reggie, with more annoyance than anything. “I-I don’t know. It just--” Reggie cut off his explanation by shooting Jeremiah in the head. “NO!” shouted Jeremiah as he appeared midair. His hands stretched out, still trying to block the shot that had sent his body flying backward off his horse. The damp desert floor soaked up his blood greedily, happy for the extra moisture. “Jeremiah, you son of a bitch!” yelled Herb. “Why’d you go and shoot me like that for?!” “I-I don’t know what happened.” Jeremiah’s eyes were wide. “Am I dead?” Maggie streaked past them, trying to enjoy the newfound chaos in the spirit realm and pointed herself at Reggie’s right-hand lieutenant. He held a repeating rifle and had good positioning on the other two men. His name was Hugo, and Maggie shuddered at the idea of sharing a body with him even for a second. She swallowed her disgust and shot forward. Like before, there was the elastic pull and sudden disorientation. The first thing she noted was the sourness of Hugo’s breath and the soreness radiating from his lower back*.* Maggie counted herself lucky that she didn’t have to stay long. She raised the repeater, aiming for the man on Reggie’s left. Her first shot caught him in the shoulder, sending him spinning. He fell off his horse but wasn’t mortally wounded. Maggie spurred Hugo’s mount, riding over to finish the job, but a splintering pain took hold in her left arm. She hadn’t even heard the gunshot but knew it was Reggie that fired. Pain throbbed through the point of impact, just above Hugo’s elbow. Hot blood ran down his arm in a wave, coating his fingers in the sticky mortal substance. Maggie fought desperately to hold on to Hugo’s corporeal form and managed. She looked up and saw Reggie turned to the native man, still tied up on horseback. “Don’t go anywhere. Apparently, I’ve got some other business to attend to.” Rain fell heavy now, mixing with Hugo’s blood and running in small rivers down the hill. Lightning flashed, casting Reggie in shadows as he dismounted. The world spun around Maggie and her mind shook like an overworked muscle. Holding onto Hugo when he wasn’t dying was hard enough, but this was torture. She willed herself to stay and turned her head to look for Hugo’s pistol, lying on the ground a few feet away. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” Reggie had his pistol drawn, the black barrel a gaping maw. “You think that scares me?” It was strange to hear Hugo’s voice with her words. “Pull the trigger and be done with it.” Maggie wasn’t sure she had another possession in her, but she was sure as hell going to try. The edges of Hugo’s skin pushed at her like a thousand needles, trying desperately to shed the bodily invader. “I’m not done with you yet, Hugo*.*” She clenched his hands into fists, wincing at the pain in his left arm. “Now, the Hugo I know is a coward and would never try shit like this.” Reggie turned toward the Hangman’s Tree, then back to face her. “This is crazy, but I don’t see another solution. I’m not talking to Hugo, am I?” “You catch on quick.” Maggie spat blood. “You deserve everything you have coming.” Reggie cocked his head to the side. “Who is that in there? Someone we hung here before?” “Hard to keep track of the atrocities you’ve committed on this hill?” She crept her right fingers toward the gun. In a blinding flash, Reggie aimed his pistol and blew Hugo’s fingers off. Maggie cursed, screaming in pain. “Yeah, see, Hugo wouldn’t do a fool thing like that either. Sounds like I’m dealing with Maggie Brown.” Maggie made no effort to hide the pained smile she spread across Hugo’s face. “In the flesh, back for my revenge.” Reggie whistled. “Never thought I’d have to kill you twice, but today has already been quite the day. Reggie checked on the native man who still sat patiently on his horse. “Suppose you feel it’s wrong of us to be killing savages?” “Do you really need an answer to that?” “What was it I told you before? It’s just bad for business. That’s right, and it’s still true. I’m a man of dollars and cents, and these uncultured folk coming into our fine town aren’t good for my business, or the town for that matter.” Maggie felt control slipping away but pushed to hold on. The pistol was out of reach, but she didn’t want to give Reggie the satisfaction of winning again. The man deserved to die. Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie spied movement as the other man she had shot got slowly to his feet. “You alright over there, John?” asked Reggie. “Yeah, the pissant just winged me.” The man was wrapping a makeshift bandage around his shoulder. “Well, as it turns out, this pissant is none other than our good friend, Maggie Brown. You’ll remember her.” John walked over to get a better look. As he got closer, he stumbled and his eyes went wide. “You good?” asked Reggie, never letting the pistol barrel leave Maggie. John recovered, but Maggie could see the difference in his expression. “Yeah, think I’m just a little low on blood.” “Well, let’s finish our business quickly and get you back to town. We’ve lost enough good men to this bitch today.” Maggie smiled through the pain and blood. “Anything for you, Reggie.” “How sweet of you. Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of a hurry now, so I’m going to have to cut our little chit-chat short. I think I’ll send you back to where you belong. Any last words? Don’t think I gave you the chance last time.” John winked at her and dropped a hand to his pistol. Maggie smiled. “Yeah, payback is a bitch.” “Ain’t that the tru--” John raised his pistol and shot Reggie in the side of the head. The bullet passed clean through, sending a red spray into the growing wind. Reggie fell to his knees, mouth opening and closing slightly. In the same moment, John’s body shook violently, and his eyes were wide once more. “Oh god, what have I done? Reggie?!” Maggie didn’t wait for him to get his bearings she rolled to her pistol, picked it up with her good hand, and used the last of Hugo’s strength to fire it. The force of the pistol rocking back threatened to tear Hugo’s wounded arm off. Hot pain bloomed, but the shot hit. John dropped to the ground. Buzz saws ran down every inch of Hugo’s body, trying to forcibly cut Maggie out. The world blurred between the grey of the spirit realm and the churning darkness of a dying man’s last vision. Hugo was losing a lot of blood. Maggie took what remained of her resolve and stood. Waves of nausea and dizziness swept over her, but she stumbled toward the native man all the same. Each step was a marathon task. Hugo’s legs moved like they were dragging fifty-pound weights behind him. Maggie pulled a knife out of Hugo’s belt, wanting to cut the native man free, but dropped it through his bloody fingers. “Shit,” she muttered. It was hard to remember anything through the haze of agony that surrounded every movement. “Help us,” she managed in broken Shoshoni. “The dead are trapped.” The world went dark and a force shot Maggie from Hugo’s body. She caught a brief glimpse of the spirit world and the cavalcade of new arrivals. Then. she hit the barrier. Everything went white. # Epilogue Things were tense on Hangman’s Hill. With all the commotion, even the Dirt Nappers came up to see what was going on. As it turned out, letting bygones be bygones didn’t apply to the furious deceased faced with their murderer. Of course, no one could do anything to Reggie, but they sure tried. In the end, they settled on making his life a living hell, floating in a tight circle around him, wherever he went, the ghosts were a constant reminder of the sins he had committed in life. They took turns speaking to their deaths, repeating the stories to drive the man mad. Reggie never got so much as a moment’s rest. Otis and Adam sat on the edge of the commotion, wondering if anything would come out of their great experiment. The native man had been able to cut himself free, but whether from fear or self-preservation, rode off immediately. To say they felt disappointed was an understatement, and had it not been for the entertainment that was Reggie’s misery, they might have become Dirt Nappers themselves. “What do you think happened to her?” asked Adam one day as they watched white clouds passing by on the horizon. “She can’t be gone, right?” “I don’t think I know anything worthwhile about this place,” replied Otis. They had watched Maggie shoot out of Hugo with such force that it was impossible to discern her form. She had been a streak of light, careening toward the barrier. When she hit, her energy dissipated, and she wasn’t seen again. “Maybe she hit it so hard she got out.” Adam hoped it was true. “I hope so, too. Either way, we both saw the grin on her face when you possessed that man and shot Reggie in the head. I like to think that would have put her at peace no matter where she ended up.” Adam nodded. “I didn’t think I would, but I miss her.” “Me too, kid.” \ Weeks passed. The desert was implacable as always, but on the third week, a wind kicked up. Hoofbeats carried through the air as twenty riders appeared on the horizon. Every single soul that had been trapped on Hangman’s Hill came out to see who it was. At the lead of the riding party was the native man they had saved from certain death, and while Reggie and his men weren’t too happy about seeing him again, the rest of the group was elated. As the group approached, horses fanned out in all directions and men with bows and arrows stood sentinel along the edges of the hill. From the center of the pack, an old woman emerged, garbed in elaborate clothing decorated with beads and quills. Her hair hung in long braids that swayed in the wind as she approached the base of the hanging tree. She ran her hands over the carvings and muttered words to herself while the others looked away. Most stood outside the edge of the hill, instinctively knowing the boundary. It didn’t happen all at once. At first, there was a muted glow in the ground, like light reflecting off metal. The brightness grew, making its way to the sky. Otis felt warmth spreading through his ghostly limbs as the barrier above him dissipated. His spirit floated upward, not of his own accord, but he felt safety in the movement and didn’t fight it. He looked down and saw the other spirits experiencing something similar. Most were floating up toward the sky but several, like Reggie and his men, were earthbound. “What the hell is this?!” yelled Reggie. “As if Hell couldn’t get any worse.” His spirt grew dark until it was almost pitch black as a shadow. A pale horseman rode up from the edge of the hill, brandishing a shining scythe and approached those remaining on the ground. Otis looked away but heard the screams of terror from below. He focused his mind on the sensation surrounding his body and the overwhelming sense of safety he felt. In the distance, he saw Adam moving upwards as well. “All’s well that ends well then.” As he floated past the highest branch on Hangman’s Hill, he felt a familiar presence tugging at him. There were no words, but he knew the feeling of companionship and peace in the energy. “Rest well, Maggie.” Otis smiled and the world went white. # The End \ Thank you all for reading this story and for your kind words along the way.


Like a delicate melody, raindrops patter the windowpane, gently awakening me from my slumber. Day after day, year after year, the scorching and relentless sun makes its mark, causing my heart to brim with gratitude for the soothing presence of rain. Presented in its purest and most pristine form, I cannot think of anything else that possesses a beauty greater than the gentle rain in the early morning. Gradually regaining my senses, I feel the soft embrace of bed sheets envelope my body, with its caress evoking memories of the tender cradle of my mother’s arms from my younger days. To my surprise, the room reveals itself to be unfamiliar, a space distinct from my own. Details emerge with clarity, and an unshakable certainty settles within me--the ambiance of the room feels inexplicably different. Steadily, I ground myself onto the cold, wooden floor, feeling its chill beneath the soles of my bare feet. It is in that very instant of awareness that I comprehend, with utmost certainty, that this room is not my own. Leaving the room, I begin to walk down a narrow hallway decorated with framed images that seem to depict forgotten tales. Forgotten tales of an unknown people by my conscious awareness. I can feel myself being drawn in. Enthralled, I fixate my gaze upon them, witnessing the vibrant colours dance and the stories weaving together seamlessly. However, with each passing step down the hallway, the images gradually fade away, leaving me to question their existence within the realms of my imagination or the tangible world. Unaware of the hallway’s end, a table of four appears before me. It is adorned with steaming cups of coffee, a pot of simmering beans, and freshly baked biscuits, enticing me with their comforting aroma. I stand there in contemplation, feeling torn between the temptation to seek out the owner of this cabin and the desire to dig into some food. Assured in my belief that taking a single biscuit will go entirely unnoticed, a lingering concern whispers within me: What if, against all odds, I were to be caught in the act? I eventually make up my mind and discreetly tread upon the wooden floor towards the table, yet just as I come to a halt, my gaze instinctively catches a glimpse of someone materialising from the edge of my right eye’s peripheral vision. A young woman greets me, breaking the silence. “Good mornin’”, she says warmly. “Mornin’ ma’am”, I respond, turning to face her. With a gentle motion, she slides the chair backward and utters in a soft-spoken tone, “You can call me Jane. Come, have a seat and help yourself to some breakfast.” As I sink into the chair a sensation of soreness permeates my body. “Thank you, Jane. I reckon I owe you my thanks for takin’ me in.” “No need for thanks. We all need a helping hand from time to time. What’s your name, stranger?” Seated now, I settle myself and serve a portion of beans from the pot onto my plate, “They call me Sam. Just a wanderer tryin’ to find some peace”. “Well, Sam, you’ve found a safe haven here, at least for the time bein’. Trouble tends to follow folks around these parts". Out of nowhere, a rumble echoes from within my stomach, reminding me of my hunger. In a hurried frenzy, I tear apart fragments of the biscuit and hastily devour them. “Care to share how you ended up here?” “Well, Jane, I seem to have no recollection of how I arrived here, but I was caught up in a mess back in Silverton. Some folks didn’t take kindly to my presence and accused me of things I didn’t do. I was then chased for days, but I knew I had to keep moving if I wanted to survive. And here I am” I reply. “You’re safe here, Sam. No one will find you.” I feel my tense expression soften as I gaze at Jane with gratitude. Taking note of the pleasant weather, and filled with appreciation for her, I take the chance to seize the moment and suggest, “The weather is delightful today, isn’t it? After we finish our breakfast, would you be interested in taking a walk together?” “I’d love to accompany you, but I don’t have the time”. “No time for a walk, huh?” I respond, curiously peaked. Vexed by the unpredictable nature of my mind’s wanderings, I inwardly question what time is. Is it an illusory construct? And why do I have a philosophical inclination about everything, be it contemplating life and death, or even the nature of my reality? Unable to resist my curiosity, I embark to delve deeper, posing the question: “What is time, really?” Jane’s facial expression reflects bewilderment, yet she momentarily allows herself to be captivated by this philosophical discourse. She extends her hand - retrieves a plate from the table, and gives it to me, issuing the command, “Here, take this plate and drop it”. Perplexed, I respond “Nah. Why would I do that?” “Just do it” she retorts. Holding the plate tightly, I intentionally let it slip from my hands, watching as it falls to the floor. The room emits a sound of shattering, a disappointing symphony that hangs in the air. Within me, I feel profound remorse for my actions as I witness the broken pieces scattered around, succumbing to their final fate. Unable to undo the deed, I develop a partial understanding behind her insistence. “Now try to join the pieces back”, she suggests. “Why would you waste that plate?” I reply, feigning confusion. “To show you what time is! Now you will never be able to join them to the same configuration. Time exists, and this experience says so". I still seem to misunderstand the concept of time, but I acknowledge her preoccupied state, and I opt to respect her busyness. Effortlessly, I gather the scattered pieces of the broken plate, swiftly tidying up the area. And with the remnants safely disposed of, I make my way towards the front door, ready for my walk. EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY Before me, extends the wild prairie, its golden grasses swaying in harmony with the gentle breeze. On this Winter morning, the prairie is bare of natural winter snow, yet the prominence of rainfall has increased noticeably, lending a distinct change to the landscape. Standing in awe, I marvel at the vastness of the land and the sense of freedom that spreads through the air. Even the distant cry of a hawk exudes a sense of liberation as it echoes through the open sky, serving as a reminder of my innate right to be entitled to freedom, liberated from prejudice, hate, and all constraints. Although, in a world such as ours, freedom will always remain elusive. And peace forever remains a challenging endeavour. Even if I am at peace in this very moment, there will perpetually exist someone out there capable of shattering it all - just how ma and pa’s lives were. Ma and pa, like other people, did their best, to be good people. Just like all the other people - they were sometimes wrong, and sometimes weak, and sometimes had no good choices. But there are also the broken and crazy people who do things they think they need to do to be safe - but they are not bad people, they are just sick. In what had felt like ten minutes, I had, in truth, spent half the day immersed upon the land with a whirlwind of thoughts consuming my mind. Did I really just spend half the day intermittently staring off into space? The sun commences its descent, and I know it is time to bid a reluctant farewell to the untamed wilderness that had embraced me. While ascending the hill, the echoes of discontent reach my ears from afar, and the echoing of voices arguing and fighting reach my ears. Without hesitation, I hasten my pace to investigate the source of the commotion. Before me stands an aged and lifeless tree, its branches devoid of any signs of vitality. I opt to take cover behind it, carefully observing the unfolding scene. In the distance, it appears that a group of rugged outlaws enter the town. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Riches ripe for the takin’?” Worried glances are exchanged among the townspeople as they become aware of the imminent threat. Making their way down the street, the outlaws unleash chaos as they break into stores, plundering valuable supplies. Meanwhile, Jesse Maverick, a resolute and resourceful shopkeeper, takes charge, gathering supplies and arms himself with a shotgun. In the distance, I catch sight of Jane and the rest of the townsfolk gathering at the saloon, engaged in a serious conversation that carries an air of urgency. Among them stands an unfamiliar face, a man whose presence piques my curiosity. “Folks, we can’t let them run us out of town. That man we took in is a wanted man. I heard they want him, so handin’ him over are the only chances we’ve got.” says the man. The townsfolk nod in agreement, determination shining in their eyes. Although Jane, exchanges a worried glance “I won’t let you take him”. I feel relieved as I realise she has not sided with the townsfolk’s plan. “Oh c’mon Jane, where is he?” In all honesty, she replies, “I don’t know where he is”. Before they know it, the outlaws raid the stores, looting many of its valuable resources, leaving the town in shambles. “They took nearly everything, but we won’t let them break our spirit. We’ll rebuild. We’ll find a way", proclaims the man with unwavering determination. The townsfolk stand in silence, surveying the aftermath, their hearts burdened with sorrow. With the stolen goods in tow, the outlaws ride off towards my direction. Not today. I can’t let them find me. As the outlaws pass by, I take a cautious step forward, planning to make my escape. All of a sudden my foot catches on a hidden rock, causing me to stumble and lose my balance. (cursing under my breath) “Damn it!” The outlaws stop in their tracks and turn their attention towards me. "Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little spy", says a man mockingly. I quickly scramble to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I respond in hopes that they leave me, “You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m just a lost traveler.” With a menacing tone the man replies, “Lost or not, you’re trespassing on our territory. And that comes with consequences.” With time slipping away I scan my surroundings, searching for a potential escape route. I have a faint memory of a narrow path that winds its way up a rocky hillside - perhaps I can make it there fast enough. With determination, I take off running towards the path, I push my body to its limits, sprinting up the treacherous path. My focus fixed on reaching its summit, I resist the urge to look back. The thought of the pursuing outlaws at my heels lingers, and with each step I push myself harder, praying that my pace outmatches their pursuit. At the top of the hillside, I catch my breath for a moment and glance back, only to see the outlaws below. Their progress is hindered by the resourceful storekeeper, Jesse, who valiantly distracts them, buying me precious time. I continue my desperate escape, disappearing into the rugged wilderness. I am so tired, so very tired. As I stumble, my legs betray me, refusing to carry my weight any longer. I look down only to see my foot bleeding heavily, and with a final gasp, I collapse to the ground in a motionless heap. INT. NATIVE AMERICAN ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT As I awake, a flickering fire illuminates the faces of people with strong, prominent facial features - different from my own. High cheekbones and chiseled jawlines, contributing to their striking appearance. The Natives? As I continue to lay, a young woman cleans my foot wounds with herbal remedies. “Your wounds will heal, young one. Our people have long possessed the knowledge of nature’s medicine.” says the young woman. I watch in awe as she moves with grace and skill, her healing techniques seeming almost magical. I express my profound gratitude to her, “Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think I would have made it out alive”. Raising my gaze, the night sky is filled with stars, casting a gentle glow over the campfire. In the distance, voices beckon, “Come and join us.” The Natives are standing in a circle, extending an invitation for me to join their gathering. “We shall share our stories, young traveler, for they are intertwined with your own.” says the wise, old elder. The Natives begin to recount tales of their ancestors and the hardships they faced, including the displacement of their people from the land they held sacred. “It was a time of great loss, a chapter in history that cannot be undone". As I listen attentively, my heart heavy with a newfound understanding settles within me. The magnitude of the realisation strikes deep, as I come to terms with the fact that my own ancestors held responsibility for the suffering endured by this Native tribe. In that moment, a vivid memory flashes through my mind, causing me to pause and take a moment to reflect. The images that adorned the walls of Jane’s hallway suddenly come to life in my mind, revealing a startling resemblance between those unknown faces and the Natives I now find myself among. The wise, old elder interrupts my thoughts, solemnly declaring, “Magic exists within the world, young one. We will show you, but know that not all possess the ability to wield it.” In the midst of the crackling fire, a Native man stands, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames. With a sweeping motion, he draws the fiery energy into his control. The flames start to twist and shape, forming intricate patterns and symbols in the air. Within the flickering inferno, a single flame undergoes a stunning metamorphosis, transforming the flame into the formidable form of a fierce coyote. Yet, as he extends his hand, an aura of tranquil ambiance casts over the scene, and the once untamed creature yields to his touch. I am truly impressed by its mesmerising display. The wise elder’s voice resonates as he speaks, “That was only one of many arts, young one. It’s a shame that you lack spiritual connection. It is indeed a unique gift”. I watch with fascination and a hint of disappointment, a heavy sigh escapes my lips. I realise that these remarkable tricks are beyond my own capabilities. EXT. NATIVE AMERICAN ENCAMPMENT - DAY The tranquility of the morning is shattered by the arrival of the same outlaws, their menacing presence felt throughout the camp. An air of unease pervades as the question lingers: Could their arrival be motivated by their pursuit of me? “We must defend our home. Every able person must stand together.” says the wise elder. As I look at him, sensing his urgency and the call for collective defence, I take a step forward, and offer my support, saying, “I may not possess the same abilities as you, but I am willing to fight alongside you”. The Natives exchange surprised glances, grateful for my willingness to help. “You can join, young one, though your assistance will be of little avail”. The outlaws proceed to descend upon the camp, chaos erupting as arrows fly and weapons clash. The Natives unleash their skills, but their numbers are limited. Now is the time to tap into my true potential. I must do whatever I can to ensure the safety of the land. With a newfound sense of purpose, I channel the teachings and magic I witnessed. Quickly setting up a fire, my eyes blaze with unwavering focus. As the flames grow, I raise my arms, attempting to command the fire with calculated gestures. Yet, my efforts yield no results. Desperation sets in, but I muster the last ounce of hope and give it one final attempt. To my surprise, the previously serene flickers gradually metamorphose, morphing into the shape of a mighty bear, its form towering and intimidating. With another gesture, I direct the bear’s attention towards the outlaws. In a burst of primal energy, the fiery bear springs to life, charging towards the approaching outlaws. “He possesses the gifts of our people!” cries out a young Native woman. The outlaws stand frozen in disbelief as the fiery bear takes shape before their eyes. Filled with a mix of awe and fear, they launch futile attacks against the formidable creature, but their efforts have no effect. The outlaws, defeated and scattered, retreat. In the depths of my being, a profound revelation takes hold. Discovering a part of myself that was once lost, I now realise the deep connection coursing through my veins, their history, and their spirit. It dawns upon me that this newfound awareness may be the solace and harmony I have been searching for all along. I have found my peace.


Legend has it, Yumiko Nygune fought ten warriors at once and beat them all with the just one punch. She trained night and day waiting for another warrior to challenge her and one did. Her brother, Jungkook Nygune, jealous of her success and for being the most feared fighter in all of Korea, challenged her and as the rules say, one must leave Korea or accept the challenge, and so Yumiko had no choice but to fight her brother. The battle took place at an abandon warehouse and Yumiko’s only rule was that there was no audience; If her brother did not surrender after he is brought to his knees, she would have no choice but to kill him. So, the battle begins her weapon, swords and his, daggers. Jungkook was brought to his knees but just as she was afraid, he did not surrender. “Brother give up, it is the only way it can end” “There is another way Yumiko, kill me” Her slight hesitation gave Jungkook the upper hand and Yumiko was brought to her knees. “I give up brother, I surrender, I no longer want to fight you, so I give up” “No Yumiko, there will be no weakness in our family, tell mother I say hello” A tear slipped from Yumiko’s face as Jungkook ended the battle with his daggers in her chest. The new feared warrior walked out of the warehouse with his sisters’ body in his arm and people looked with grief, joy, anger, and confusion watching her body drip blood from where the daggers entered her body. “My sister is dead” “How could you do that to Yumiko, to your sister, you show no honor to your family’ What she did not know was that he had been planning and training for months to kill her. Jungkook was the new member in the Korean mafia gang or better known as “Kkangpae” and they have had Yumiko’s’ name on their hit list for years. She was too powerful, and she was the only one who could ever beat the members of Kkangpae, but not their leader Jimin Hangeul. Jimin promised Jungkook he would be a member of the gang if he could eliminate the threat, Yumiko. “If I just jump it will disappear, everything will disappear but if I stay what would I’d be staying for, who would I’d be staying for, and the answer is simple. Nothing and no one”. Being lonely in this lonely world is a dangerous thing to do. American girl, Baha Morgan ready to be a coward and jump off the bridge to her death, truly knows how lonely this world can get. No mother, probably no father, she’s practically an orphan and a damn lonely one. “Don’t do it, instead let me rebuild you” “Who said that, are you a ghost or something” Almost a ghost. Jungkook tossed Yumiko’s body over the bridge and into the ocean, but she did not die, instead she was floating to the bottom of the ocean when some miracle caused her to wake up. “Help me and I promise to rebuild you into a stronger, better version of yourself and not a coward who tries to jump off a bridge when things get hard” Baha gets downs to the rocks and see Yumiko and her blood all over the rock. “Take me to my temple, please” “I don’t even know what that means” “American are you, the accent gives it away, please do as I say” American girl Baha takes Yumiko to the temple and when she arrives, she sees it. A huge temple that has trees and grass and is a total trash house. “What is this some kind of hideout” “It is my temple, I let nature do what she must do, take me to the center of the pond and lay me down in it” As some may imagine, she floated in the air and a phoenix appeared and Yumiko was reborn. “How’d you do that, none of this makes sense”. “No, it doesn’t, but at least I saved you from becoming a coward for eternity” Yumiko’s wounds were suddenly healed, and she was more powerful than anyone could ever imagine. “Child sit. Let me tell you a little story”. Yumiko told Baha about everything. The battles with ex warriors and the battle with her brother. “Wait, your own brother killed you. Just like that. No remorse. No mercy. And he threw you over the bridge. Wow and I thought my life sucked”. “Child you see, where I come from, things are a little different. It’s not like America. Our rules are stricter and families, well they don’t mean anything here”. “But you cared for you brother otherwise you would’ve killed him”. “Maybe. But I also don’t want more blood on my hands than I already do”. Baha. American girl. Fragile and so small in Korea. “Child why are you here in Seoul, especially alone because that sort of thing can get you killed”. In Seoul, Americans are typically not welcomed, unless you make a name for yourself. “When I was thirteen, my mother died. They said it was a robbery gone wrong, but I was there, I know what I saw”. “What did you see”? “Korean men, six of them. I heard them yelling at my mother about money my father owed, and they questioned her about where he was, she didn’t. They beat her and then one of them, Jimin, killed my mother with his sword. Where I come from people that murder other people are supposed to go to prison, but they didn’t. Everybody just swept it under the rug and didn’t even try to get justice. The only reason I’m not dead is because they already got their pay by killing my mother. That’s why I’m here. To avenge her. But it’s been four years and I have gotten nowhere”. “Jimin Hangeul. Leader of the Kkangpae gang”. “You know my mother’s killer, so take me to him”. “Child, you have no experience going up against someone like him, he will kill you before you could even get close to his men”. “So, help me, if you’re such a great fighter train me. You could get revenge on your brother and I for my mother, please Yumiko, I will do whatever it takes”. “Well then, let’s begin” And so, they did. Yumiko trained Baha day and night. Baha learned all the styles Yumiko knew of fighting; Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Jujitsu, Karate, five months later and Baha felt unstoppable, and she was. “I’m ready. I’m ready to challenge Jimin and avenge my mother’s death”. “Physically maybe, mentally, are you? Are you prepared to fight to the death and die or have blood on your hands from the rest of your life Baha”? “I am challenging him and am prepared to have his blood on my hands”. Wondering the streets of Seoul, they both found where Kkangpae was gambling at. Jungkook surprised to see his sister and Jimin angry she was alive. “Is this some kind of game Jungkook, you plotted with her and faked the death” “No! You were dead, I made sure you were”. “You underrate me brother and that was your mistake”. “I challenge Jimin to a battle, time and place now and here”. They all laughed except Yumiko and her American girl. “Very well, first I will end this child’s life and then Yumiko I will end you and you Jimin for not finishing the job. Your move”. Surprised Baha lasted this long, Jungkook shows remorse and what seems to be regret for what he did to his sister. Now there is a bigger crowd than before waiting to see the death of Baha. \ “Wait a minute, I remember you. American family. I killed your mother. Are you trying to avenger her? Ha. You will see her soon”. Three hours in and Baha seems as if she is the one who will be dying. Jimin knocks her down and is given his sword. “You will die at the same sword your mother did”. Baha stopped the sword from entering her body. “No. You do not get the honor of killing me, but I will get the honor of killing you”. She kicked him off her and knocked him down with the same move Yumiko finished her opponents with, the death punch. Jimin lost his hearing for a split second and Baha knocked him down. Yumiko tossed her a sword. “Rot in hell you son of a bitch” Jimin Hangeul dead at the hand of a twenty-year-old American girl. Five months passed by. Baha and Yumiko are the most respected not just in Seoul, but in Korea. Yumiko took American girl Baha under her wing and continued to train her until her last breath.


Austin Drexler lay still for a moment as his body began to slowly wake up. Above him, he could see biological data being displayed on the cover of his pod. He blinked and continued waiting patiently, feeling somewhat tired, relaxed and calm at the same time. The waking up process after a "Break" was always usually fairly slow and not rushed at all. This was Austin's fifth Break, so none of this was new, however, this time, he had bought a Diamond XII-tier Break package. He had bought this extremely expensive package - his first - and the contractual period of his Break was stated as being 307 years, 9 months and 29 days. This was his longer Break and he had been completely suspended and frozen for the entire time. He continued waiting patiently, as the nanobots and automated systems continued to do their work. The protracted waking up phase involved a lot of complex procedures and advanced technology and currently, nanobots had been rapidly repairing his cells and brain and blood vessels. An hour and twelve minutes later, Austin was now frowning. His voice had returned, so he tried to speak carefully and slowly. "Uh...is everything okay? I understand this Break was longer than the last, but this has taken eight times longer than last time. I have also not received a customary welcome message and update..." Austin was met with silence. His pod hummed and biological data continued streaming on the screen of his pod. He slowly wiggled his fingers and toes; his restraints had still not been loosened and his entire pod was still opaque. It was his longest Break yet, so it may have had a slightly different process, but the android adviser at Wildling Extended had not informed him of this. "Zeus, may I get an update, please?" Austin attempted to summon the popular VI assistant, but there was no response. He was now fully lucid and could move his toes and fingers, so he knew the waking up phase had been completed, yet his restraints had not been loosened and his pod hadn't opened or become transparent. "This is Austin Drexler, Customer ID 742A81. I demand to know what is going on! I didn't pay four million credits just to be ignored! Is there some sort of problem?!" Silence. Austin shook his head. *No, no, this isn't right. Something is definitely wrong. The systems aren't responding and I'm still in here. Something's fucking wrong,* he thought. He attempted to struggle against the restraints around his arms, legs and neck, but even his enhanced bones and enhanced muscles couldn't make them budge. Something was clearly wrong. Humanity had reached a point where things like political upheaval or unexpected cataclysms were mostly unheard of. Frankly, he was in one of the most secure locations in human-occupied space. He'd never heard of anything bizarre occuring within the last 3,500 years - the length of time that had elapsed since his first Break. He lay still again for a moment and tried to consider what to do. As he lay there, contemplating the worst, the top of his pod suddenly came apart, as if removed by an invisible force and his restraints fell apart shortly after. Standing nearby was a creature of some sort, an extremely tall, slender humanoid, with shining silver skin and no eyes or nose or mouth or even ears. Its large hands were held up and its long bony fingers pointed upwards. "What the..." Austin gasped, catching sight of the humanoid creature - or robot - as he sat up. "Are you a new model or something? What...what has happened?" The extremely tall creature lowered its hands, but still remained facing towards his direction; Austin didn't know if it was staring at him or not; it had no eyes. Austin cleared his throat nervously and blinked; cybernetics were offline, so he couldn't identify what was standing before him. "Did...did you...uh...do that?" He motioned to the top of the pod and the restraints now lying on the ground The creature still remained facing towards him, standing completely still and motionless. Austin looked around and saw that he was stil in his private Break area; everything still looked the same as it did a few hundred years ago before he went to sleep - but had 307 years even passed? "Uh...my cybernetics are offline. I can't...is my Break over?" The creature still remained still and silent. *It could be a new model or something...* Austin thought. Suddenly, the creature held up both of its large hands and began to make circular motions. It then helds its hands, palms upwards, at waist height - its waist - and detailed holograms suddenly emerged from its large palms. More detailed holograms then began to emanate from all over its body. Sounds began to be emitted from all over the creature's body and Austin stared, wide-eyed, as this strange creature or robot began to communicate with him. *YOUR SPECIES HAS DIED.* Austin blinked and glared at the holograms silently. Holographic videos of people dropping dead, spacecraft crashing, cells dying and biological systems failing played out in front of him. *YOUR SPECIES DID EVERYTHING CORRECTLY.* Holographic videos showed dozens of mankind's planets teeming with cities and civilization, WorldStations floating in space, space habitats floating around stars, teleporters transporting cargo and people. *BUT A SINGULARITY EVENT OCCURRED.* The holographic videos suddenly changed to show what appeared to be cells rapidly dying and right down to the molecular and nanomolecular levels, structures breaking apart and bonds becoming nothing. *A MASS EXTINCTION EVENT INEXPLICABLY OCCURRED.* Holographic videos showed abandoned cities with billions of bodies now turned to *fossils* and remains and abandoned stations and moons and habitats and planets. *DESPITE ALL OF THE TECHNOLOGY, THIS SINGULARITY OCCURRED. IT COULD NOT BE AVOIDED; IT COULD NOT BE PREVENTED.* Austin frowned as the flow of information and what was being said - from everywhere at the same time - became a little overwhelming. Suddenly, the holographic videos flooded his mind, as if he was hit by a gust of wind. Suddenly, he was living what he had been shown; suddenly, he was there and everywhere at the same time, dying along with everyone and everything else; human bodies dying and breaking apart like grains of sand; robots failing and their bodies crumbling into nothing; entire cities withering away and entire space stations and habitats breaking apart into deep space. Suddenly he understood everything. Mankind had been attacked by an unknown entity, an unknown weapon, an unknown...*Singularity*. The Swarm had attacked everything that had ever been built at the nanomolecular level, right down to every last human and most technology and infrastructure. It was no normal Swarm, but something altogether anomalous, something altogether singular and devastating and it had stolen the most sacred thing in Austin's life: the struggle for immortality. But wait - how was he still alive? "I...shouldn't I be dead?" The extremely tall humanoid entity's body began to elongate and grow larger before him and suddenly Austin was completely illuminated; suddenly he knew where he was and what he was. Despite how advanced humans had become, since humble beginnings on Earth tens of thousands of years ago following on from the dawn of the atomic age and how far mankind had spread out to the stars, humans could have never achieved this. Austin knew where he was and what he was and he also knew what was standing in front of him. Austin Drexler, historian, traveler and pleasure-seeker, aged 4,072 years, had been uploaded, uploaded into another *Universe*, a Universe in a wild tapestry of Universes in a wild jungle of Multiverse; it was impossible, it could never occur, there was no way to travel between Universes, let alone communicate with another, especially forever-expanding ones...unless you were the Architect - or one of the Architects. A mouth suddenly formed on the faceless head of the entity and it curled into smile. Austin grinned back knowingly. 86,000 years on from the first detonation of a manmade atomic bomb on the First Planet, Earth, humans had met an Architect of a Multiverse, in a sea of ever-expanding Multiverses, teeming with ever-expanding Universes and somehow, mankind had survived and been saved, uploaded into another. But Austin knew it wasn't a "God" standing before him, because as the entity stood before him, it also talked *into* his mind and its many voices echoed through Austin's mind: *I, TOO, AM LOST AND TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF WHERE I AM AND WHAT I AM. AS FAR AS I HAVE COME, I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHERE WE ARE, WHAT WE ARE, OR EVEN WHAT WE ARE IN.


The girls looked at their waiter with wide eyes as he stared down at them with a kind smile. Both of his arms, face, and neck were covered in scars of many different shapes and sizes. Some of them were faded back into his natural skin color while others were pink and looked fresh. “Ah, sorry,” Devyn spoke up quickly when she realized that they had been staring at him for a little too long for him not to notice. She quickly kicked the other two to get the to stop causing them to hiss in pain quietly. They ordered their drinks, but Sana only order an entree causing the man to raise and eyebrow in amusement. “Starting slow, huh? I’ll be back with your orders soon.” He smiled before leaving the three and going back behind the bar to prepare the orders. “He looks like he’s the only one working,” Devyn pointed out with a sympathetic smile and Sana hummed in response without looking at him, not wanting to look towards the bar because of the man who was still watching her even though she was out of his line of sight. Sana was feeling anxious until their orders came out. She was eating the mozzarella sticks she had ordered and chatting to her friends when the feeling slowly left her and it was beginning to feel like a normal girls night out. That was until a bottle of beer was set in front her and she nearly choked on her food when she looked up at the person who set it there. “I think I owe fate a few drinks. Fanny seeing you here Dollface.” The man smirked widely showing his sharp teeth as he held his own drink in his hand while leaning against the booth casually. Sana was glaring daggers at him and scooted away from him while her friends were staring at the two with confusion. “Wish I could say the same.” “I noticed you didn’t order a drink, so I got one for you,” he said as Sana looked from the drink back into his red eyes. “I don’t want a drink from you,” she spat but he only chuckled. “I get why you think I’d do something like that, but that’s not me.” The man smoothed his black hair back. “You can even ask Demie,” he said nodding to the bartender when Sana gave him a skeptical look. Devyn and Rachel were inspecting the beer bottle before looking to Sana who was waiting for their opinion on the matter. “It’s not opened and it’s a free drink,” Devyn shrugged and Rachel nodded before Sana took the drink from them with a heavy sigh. Rolling her eyes she twisted the cap off and tossed it on the table. “Thanks.” “Are you the douche she was talking about who gave her his number?” Rachel asked obliviously causing the man’s smirk to turn into a crooked smile. “I’m touched Dollface. You talked about me to your friends.” He looked to Sana who’s cheeks heated up as she rested her chin on hand. “I wasn’t talking nice about you,” she admitted. “You shouldn’t be touched.” “I’m touched whenever anyone talks about me regardless.” He smiled genuinely. “What’s your name?” Rachel asked and the man looked to her. “Josh.” Devyn and Rachel introduced themselves before Josh looked back at Sana, their eyes connecting causing another shiver to run down her spine. “Mind if I sit with you? My drinking partner disappeared on me,” he asked but Rachel spoke up before Sana could answer. “Sure!” She smiled happily, swaying in her seat slightly as she was already tipsy on her martini causing Sana to give her a desperate look. Josh sat down next to Sana and looked at her with a smirk. “Now that we’re on a first name basis and I’m sitting beside you, how about we get to know each other better? Maybe you’ll come to hate me less, Dollface.” Sana rolled her eyes and looked away, “No way.” Devyn leaned in close to her sister while watching Josh begin to start a conversation with Sana who was still trying to not look at him. “This guy really has something for Sana even though she’s giving him the cold shoulder,” she told her sister behind her hand to which Rachel nodded in agreement before gasping loudly causing her sister to look at her with confusion. “It’s the guy! From the train!” Rachel whisper yelled at her sister, pointing her in the direction of the man causing Devyn’s stomach to drop in fear.