53. Second Floor (Patreon)

This time, rather than falling, he stepped onto a floor exactly where the floor should be. He kept walking, confused. White light suffused them all around, glowing from all directions, no indication of the floor, or the ground, or distance, just the three of them floating in the white light. After a few steps, Rowan stopped walking, too disoriented to continue.

“Ugh. I don’t like this,” Ikara muttered. She staggered into Rowan and leaned against him, grounding herself.

Kaidu stood proud, unbothered. He twisted his hand out of Rowan’s grip and crossed his arms. “I told you. We won’t be separated.”

“It was worth holding hands for ten seconds,” Rowan sighed.

“Where are we?” Ikara mumbled, tightening her grip on Rowan’s hand. She looked around again, then buried her face against his shoulder. “I’m gonna puke…”

“Don’t puke on me,” Rowan said, drawing back.

She grabbed on tighter and refused to let go, stuffing her face into his shirt.

“We’re in the waiting room. There aren’t enough people to launch the Scenario yet,” Kaidu said.

Rowan tilted his head. “How many people do we need?”

Kaidu shrugged. “Depends on the Scenario.”

“How long are we going to be stuck here?” Ikara moaned. She peeked out from his sleeve and hid her face again immediately.

“Not long. Calm down and center yourself. We’ll have an advantage over people who join after the Scenario starts by joining early.”

“You did this deliberately?” Ikara grumbled.

Rowan looked around. It’s so much the same. There’s no sense of… anything. His sense of balance spun around him, his eyes searching for something to lock onto and finding nothing. He stumbled, trying to catch himself, then stumbled again. Ikara lunged after him, equally off-balance.

“Ugh,” Rowan muttered.

“Stopppp,” Ikara groaned. Her stomach burbled, and she swallowed loudly.

“Don’t vomit on me,” Rowan repeated.

“Next time, let’s join late, after it starts, pleaseeeee,” Ikara said, holding on tight to Rowan.

Kaidu flipped his hair and snorted, dismissing them.

Rowan narrowed his eyes, then regretted it as the rest of the room didn’t change in focus. He pressed a hand to his mouth as his stomach jolted. If we don’t get into the Tower soon, I might join Ikara.

“It’s all in your head,” Kaidu offered.

“Thanks,” Rowan grumbled. I know it’s all in my head. That’s the problem.

The background wobbled, all of it wobbling evenly at once, as if water dropped into the surface of a lake, but everything, all of it, under him, above him, behind him and in front of him, the same texture, two and three dimensional at the same time. Rowan grabbed onto Ikara, and she tightened her grip.

“Make it end,” Ikara cried.

Rain.

Rowan looked up, startled, and caught a face-full of heavy rain, pouring from a slate-colored sky. Tall, dark buildings, carved of stone with tiny windows peeking gold out into the twilight, loomed over him, blocking off the sky. He looked down and found himself in a dead-end valley. Puddles collected between the gaps in cobbles. Rivulets streamed into steel-front storm drains. A rat dug through garbage, caught a glimpse of him, and darted away with a squeal.

Ikara let go of him and lifted her hood over her head. “What the hell?”

“Kaidu?” Rowan turned beside him, then froze. Where’s Kaidu? He should be… it was hard to tell how far he was from us, but if I had to guess, he’d be right inside that building!

A white-coated figure stepped around the corner of the edge of the alley. He stalked toward them, ponytail flapping despite the rain.

“Hey!” Ikara called. She jogged toward him, excited.

Behind Kaidu, a shadowed figure appeared. They grabbed Kaidu by the ponytail and pulled his head back, baring his neck.

Ikara screamed. She charged at Kaidu, drawing thread into her hands.

“Kaidu!” Rowan shouted. He sprinted after Ikara, desperately grabbing at his bag for something, anything. Dammit! Why can’t I find anything when I need it?

A blade shone in the low light. It flashed across Kaidu’s throat. Kaidu went limp and sagged against the figure.

Rowan’s hand closed on a handle. Blindly, he threw the thing at the attacker. The figure shifted slightly, and Rowan’s hand spade bounced off Kaidu’s shoulder harmlessly.

“No!” Ikara threw the thread at Kaidu’s assailant, too late. It tangled in their hands, but the razor flashed, and they were free.

Wait. Razor? Rowan drew to a halt. “Ikara…”

“You let him go! How dare you! How dare!” Ikara screamed. She jumped at the pair of them and tackled both Kaidu and the figure to the floor. Tears streaming down her face, she pummeled them, forced to punch Kaidu to hit the figure, hiding beneath him.

“Wait, wait! Ikara—” Rowan caught her by the shoulder.

Ikara whipped around, eyes red, face messy. “What?”

Rowan paused, then bit his lip. “They… they’re both Kaidu.”

“Huh?” Ikara looked at him, then at the men she straddled.

Two Kaidus glared up at her. One with a stiff, dead face; the other, with his eyebrow faintly twitching and his cheeks flush with exertion.

“Get off me,” he snarled.

Ikara blinked. Numb, she stared for a second, then, distractedly, stood. “But… huh?”

Kaidu threw the dead Kaidu off him and stood, brushing the wet and mud off his coat. “It’s the Scenario.”