James Wylder, Writer

​Graelyn hung the string of lights up and stood back to admire her handiwork.
"Wow," Graelyn said, "it looks like shit."
Arch sighed, "It's not too bad, it's certainly the best possible look under the circumstances."
He was right, not that she wanted to admit it right now, as she avoided scratching her face. This was the worst place she could have gotten dropped on a mission, only to get involved in a wild chase that resulted in her satchel of the crystal dust that allowed her to travel between alternate realities dropping into a precipice. And then, of course, it had turned out there was a plague here, and even after they got in touch with Spiral, they had to quarantine themselves.
"You know, I'd had bigger plans for my birthday this year," Graelyn said.
"You don't even know how old you are, I mean, didn't you get turned into a baby that one time and have to redo your entire--"
"Hush. I'm serious."
She flopped down on the couch in the house they'd rented, and groaned. "Look, I've never had a good birthday. Something bad always happens, so this year I decided I was going to make it a good birthday no matter what. No unexpected breakups, or familial abuse, or gaslighting or--"
"--I feel like this is a very low bar--"
"And...just spend it with all the friends I've made."
Arch nodded, he could get that, as much as he really could. Neither of them had particularly minded being quarantined, they had both spent a long time alone in their lives. But looking at Graelyn staring up at the ceiling, he began to realize exactly how not-alone they'd both become.
It hadn't been so long ago that Archimedes was alone on Ahnerabe Station, thinking he'd spend the rest of his life alone and adrift. It wasn't so long ago for her that Graelyn had pushed the whole world away because of her hellish upbringing, and had given certainty to a life of solitude.
Even being quarantined together with his friend was twice as much human contact per day than he'd expected out of his life.
So Arch put his processors and brain cells to work, and began to formulate a plan.

* * *

Let's look outside the building, shall we? Whole world, big plague, you know the deal. The streets are empty, aside from one figure hiding behind a tree. They peer at the rented house, and begin to sneak towards it. Over their shoulder is a bag: Graelyn's bag.

* * *

Arch of course, heard the door unlock. He had exceptional hearing, being that it was literally just high end microphones and vibration sensors. So when the person tried to sneak in, the attempt was thwarted fairly quickly, as they got halfway into the kitchen to find Arch sliding in behind them to block their exit, and Graelyn, with Face-mask, standing in front of them with her hands on her hips.
"Did you really think you were breaking into my house? On my birthday?"
"It's not actually our house, it is a rental," Arch said.
"Not the most important detail I think. Now who are you?"
The man reached for his own face-mask, and Graelyn and Arch both threw up their hands, "No no no!"
"You can keep that on, we don't need to see your face."
The man still pulled his mask down, and Graelyn and Arch threw their hands up in disgust, "Really?" Graelyn said, "What was the point of that, I can hear you just fine through the mask."
The man's face went red, "Don't you know who I am?"
Graelyn shook her head.
"I'm the one who should have had your adventures! You thieving girl."
"...What?" Graelyn said, blankly.
"I'm Elliott Jo Jordan. I was the top candidate for Project Atlantis' intern position, but you somehow got it instead! I should have been the one travelling between alternate realities--"
"Uh, hate to bring this up but to be here you had to have literally travelled between alternate realities..." Arch noted.
He spun around to point a finger at Arch. "I'm not finished! I had to make a deal with that group Dusk in order to find you, and destroy you for what you did."
"I thought we defeated Dusk?" Arch said.
"They are Time Travelers. That does make it messy."
"But I thought we prevented them from ever existing?"
"But if you time traveled before you never existed you still exist."
"Ah, right. Forgot."
"You have a hard drive in your brain, how do you forg--"
"STOP TALKING LIKE I'M NOT HERE!" he yelled, "I DEMAND TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!"
Graelyn laughed, "No thank you. Anyway, let me have my bag back."
He grinned, "Never. I finally have the upper hand on you, Graelyn Scythes. I have the power here, the leverage. The only way off this rock. Now you're going to--hey!"
While he was yammering, Arch hand simply pulled the bag out of his hand. He proceeded to block the thief by placing his hand on the top of his head as he flailed and tried to move forward.
"Right, let's get back to my birthday then, finish this up?"
Arch nodded, "Yeah, honestly I was expecting more of a threat today, I don't know why."
She shrugged, "I won't complain."
The theif promptly found himself out the door, which was slammed and locked behind him, and a chair put under the doorknob on the other side. Grumpily, he wandered off into the night.
"They'll take me seriously..." he muttered as she stepped into a puddle, and sighed.

* * *

"Well now that that's done," Arch said, holding up a tablet in front of Graelyn who was sipping a glass of milk on the couch, "I have a special present for you!" While the lag is too bad for video calls here, I asked some of our friends to send you messages!"
Graelyn tilted her head, "Really? Why?"
"...Because it's your birthday and we care about you."
She looked down at her hands, "I guess that makes sense. I don't expect you got many."
He shook his head, "I got...a lot. So why don't we start." He flopped down next to her on the couch, and each of them holding a side of the tablet, hit play.

Loading.

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Video Message 1

"Hey Graelyn! This is Lady Aesculapius!" Lady Aesculapius says, wearing a T-Shirt that said, "I'm Lady Aesculapius" on it. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, and I promise my friend Virginia Stens-6 will make you cupcakes when you get out of there--oh Blanche, Jason can you say hi."
A young woman who looked just like Graelyn, only with white hair, came into frame, "Hi. Sorry again about trying to murder you a few times."
A man wearing a t-shirt that said "I'm the ACE up your sleeve!" popped in from the other side of the frame, "Hey Graelyn! You might not remember me much, but happy birthday nonetheless!"
"Alright, that's all from us, your most successful spin off! Now go have fun!"

"Hey Graelyn, President Zhang Han here, wishing you a happy birthday from the presidency of Mars. My wife isn't here right now but my daughter Odyssia is. Odyssia look at the camera. Look!" she pointed at the Camera, and Odyssia barely glanced at it from her perch on her mother's lap and then returned to staring at something out of frame. "Oh well. Anyway, I've arranged for a special gift for you to be placed at the following coordinates-" a series of numbers flashed up on screen. "Many happy returns."

Graelyn didn't learn this till later, but the gift was of course a basket of popular exports and products from the planet Mars, including four different varieties of olives.

"Happy birthday from Fleet Admiral Cornelia Carthage," the admiral said, sitting rigidly at her desk. A voice off camera asked: "...is that it?"
"Yes."

"Graelyn! Do you remember me? It's Alice MacLeod. Oh, wait sorry you've probably met dozens of me now. Specifically the first one, you know Songbird? I really hope you have a lovely birthday, and everyone else does too. Jack, Treyvon, Yi, Chantelle, and Shona. Though Shona went on a trip, I'm a little worried about her...regardless, even though we've been apart you're still one of my closest and dearest friends. I hope you visit soon. All the love from the World Revolutionary Council."

"Is this on?" Shona asked.
"It's on," The Tourist replied.
"Great! Hey Grae, it's me, Shona! Also your ex-girlfriend Ashlyn is here--"
"I TOLD YOU TO NOT MENTION THAT!" Ashlyn yelled.
"I thought you said you're  on good terms?"
"That doesn't mean...oh whatever," Ashlyn popped into frame next to Shona, "Hi, Happy Birthday Graelyn. I hope you and that Archimedes fellow I've heard about are having a good time. Are you two together now?"
"ASHLYN!" Shona shoved her out of frame. "So yeah, me, the Tourist, Ashlyn, Pathway, and Miranda--not your Miranda a prototype one--all wish you the happiest day! Eat cake!"

Graelyn and Arch awkwardly didn't look at each other for 87 seconds, and then Graelyn played the next video.

A Graelyn appears, not our Graelyn, but well, it's a Graelyn, "Hey me! So, things have been really great with this version of our family here...I actually just became president of the physics club. Can you believe that? I've made a lot of friends here...and well...happy birthday. You deserve it. Cheers!"

A really gross man appears. This is more of an objective description than you'd think, because his skin has been ripped off his face. Auteur grins up at the camera, "Bonjour, my daughter. Are you well? Are you eating? Have you been eaten? I'm sorry I couldn't make whatever you invited me to which was," he looks down at a paper, "this video message. But I will be sure that I make you a video message next time to make up for it."
He stops to take a sip from a glass of something that it's hard to tell is blood or wine. Trick question-it's 50/50.
"Ah yes, the formalities: Happy Birthday my dear child. I tried making you a birthday present, by asking Dracula if he would meet you, but I was informed by Father and Mother that I was simply talking in my sleep. The nerve! The audacity! I'll make it happen though, I'll write you a tale that you'll never forget my child, you'll struggle and bleed and--"
The video kindly cuts out.

"Hey Grae, it's your former lawyer Jame Morrel. I hope you have a great one. And if you need more legal services just contact me at--"
Graelyn skipped ahead to the next one.

A woman appears, holding a mimosa. She is sitting on a golden throne, waited on by a man and woman in stereotypical butler and maid outfits. The throned woman is wearing an elegant black dress, and sunglasses. Indoors.
"Hello dear, this is Ariadne Moore, or as you're more familiar with me, Chess Mistress Hex--what no I'm tired of the caviar, get me something else--regardless I hear it's your birthday." There is a long pause. "So I hope that goes well for you or whatever."
"Wow," Arch said as the video ended.
"She really does care," Graelyn said.


There is a huge group-shot--we see tons of familiar faces: it's all of Dawn, standing under the swirling clouds of Spiral. A T-Rex dozes peacefully in the background. In the front is Kinan Jans, dressed as Sesshomaru from Inu Yasha.
"Hello Graelyn," Kinan Jans says in her monotone with a wave, "I hope you know how much you have meant to all of us her, and to me in particular. I know this is a message from your workplace so I'll try not to get too smarmy or whatever. But I wanted to dress up as my favorite memory together, when we went trick-or-treating in Nightmoore. Anyway, from all of us here at Dawn..."
The group shouts at the camera, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" which wakes the T-Rex up, and it roars, startling everyone as the camera cuts off.

Graelyn looked over at Arch, "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."
He shrugged, "I kinda did. You're my best friend."
"Right back atcha--wait whats that?"
Arch looked at the tablet, "Ah, we're getting a new file. Looks like a late entry?" He pressed play.

Kinan Jans and Backgammon Jenny appear. Jenny is popping gum, and sitting on the edge of Kinan's desk. Kinan is back to her usual outfit, fingers steepled.
"Arch informed us that you caught the culprit behind your stranding. It's good to know you'll be able to head back on your own power upon the completion of your quarantine. However..."
Jenny laughed, "They're going to hate this."

"Well as I said, I'm glad you caught the culprit," Kinan droned, "but you do know that now that you had contact with someone there we have to start your quarantine clock over."
Graelyn stared unblinking, "Cool," she said, "super cool. I figured my Birthday was going too well."
Arch put a hand on her shoulder, it was very big compared to her shoulder. "I'll make you something. Your birthday, whatever you like. I've been getting pretty decent at cooking despite, you know, eating mush."
Graelyn smiled, "Let's do it together. It may not be what we expected, but we'll make the best of it. Happy birthday to me."

Thank you for five years of adventure. We hope to bring you many more. From all of us here at Arcbeatle Press and 10,000 Dawns, happy 5th anniversary to 10kd!

​
Copyright 2020, Arcbeatle Press and James Wylder, all rights reserved. Auteur is the property of Jacob Black, used with permission. Chess Mistress Hex is the property of Taylor Elliott, used with permission. Alice MacLeod is the property of Jo Smiley, used with permission. 10,000 Dawns and it’s characters are the property of James Wylder and Arcbeatle Press. This story is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead, or events past or present is purely co-incidental. Any resemblance to characters not owned or licensed is done firmly within the grounds of parody or satire. Arcbeatle Press is located in Elkhart, IN. arcbeatlepress.com

​The Tourist pulled the chart down, and pointed at it with a rather excessively long pointing stick. Pathway sat with an ice pack on her head, Ashlyn was reading a book called, "The Untold Adventures", ("Well I didn't do that...oh no wait that did happen." she said at least three times.), Miranda was on the floor playing with spray-paint, and making the whole floor into a mural. Shona, well, Shona was just lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling throwing a ball up and down.
"Hello? Are you even listening? I have another plan to get us noticed!"
"What are you going to do?" Pathway said flatly, "Blow up a universe? Run off with Ashlyn for a long time, and then neither of you tell us what happened for literally days while the two of you avoid each other in comically romantic mishaps around the Pyramid?"
The Tourist pointed at pathway, but no words came, and she lowered her finger, and shrugged. "Okay, so maybe my plans haven't gone according to plan."
"That sounds like a pretty big problem for plans, "Pathway replied.
"Can you just get...all the way off my back about this?"
"I'm not on your back, I'm in a chair."
"This is why you weren't in the novel, bejeebus." The Tourist rubbed her forehead, and Miranda coughed. All eyes turned to her.
"Hi, yes, Miranda here. CNN. So, Miss Tourist, why are we still...doing this?"
"What's with the CNN gag?"
"I thought it was fun."
Shrug, "You know, I take that back, continue."
"Thanks, look, we've already done a lot of stuff. We ended the world!"
"That got undone pretty quick," Ashlyn muttered.
"...and formed a rock band."
"Okay, that part was actually fun," Pathway noted.
"But my main point here is...I think we had a good run at this? People paid some attention to us. We had a good time."
The Tourist frowned, and lowered her pointy stick. "We can't just, end things now, there's still so much to do!"
"Like?"
She fumbled through her trenchcoat pockets, but came up with nothing, "Uh...well..." She threw the pointer, and adjusted her sunglasses, "there is a mysterious final task I had for us...one big plan to change everything for us."
"No there isn't," Ashlyn said,
The Tourist frowned, "Well don't tell them that!"
Ashlyn sighed, "Admit it, just admit why you're really doing this, Tourist!"
She threw her hands up, "I already told you! Attention! I could not have been more clear this was all just a selfish ploy for attention!"
Ashlyn crossed her arms, "Is it."
"YES?"
"Whose attention?"
The Tourist froze solid, and glanced at the rest of the room, "Uhhh."
"Hmn?" Miranda asked.
"Yes, go on," Pathway prodded.
"I missed most of that but please say the interesting thing," Shona said.
The Tourist turned around, this was not going her way. She was supposed to keep this going for some time, not end it all with, ugh, being *honest*. It was grotesque. No, no she had a better plan...she started the laughter slow and soft, and increased it in intensity, throwing a hand in the air, fingers splayed in a claw. "So then, you finally figured it out."
"Yeah," Miranda said, "we literally all knew you weren't going to be honest, again, and just do something weird like that. We all know why you're doing this, just say it."
Shona raised a hand, "Actually uh, Tourist, let me point a thing out? You do realize that none of us would be here still if we didn't like hanging out with you, do you?"
The Tourist's jaw went a little slack, "Uh, no?"
Pathway raised an eyebrow, "Do you really think any of us care about recognition the way you do."
"Oh I absolutely do," Ashlyn said.
"Sorry, do you really think any of you but you and Ashlyn were in this for selfish reasons?"
"Hey!" Ashlyn and the Tourist yelled back.
Pathway stood up, "We're still here because this is fun. It's fun to spend time with friends, so run around, to be somewhere. If you spend enough time alone, those things become precious. And you may be an emotionally insecure jerk, but in the end you do the right thing, even if, you know, you have to posture about not doing the right thing for ten minutes."
The Tourist looked at her feet.
"We're here because we like you, stupid. So throw out your plan. Let's find a path somewhere else. We'll go with you, right?"
Miranda nodded, "It's been fun, and if we're lucky we can find another roller derby."
"I've been bored ever since we finished mopping up the Centro resistance, so this has been pretty great, plus there are a lot of great food trucks when you have a time machine," Shona said.
"It's not a time machine it travels along narrative--nevermind," The Tourist tried not to smile. She failed, so she spun around again to face the controls to the pyramid. "Right, well, if there's no plan, then let's go somewhere exciting."
Ashlyn perked up, "Somewhere wild?"
"You could say that. One of my favorite places. Where beasts come from all over to compete for who is the supreme beast." She grinned, "If you're all still up for the ride?"
The cheers told her they were, and as the Pyramid zipped off, The Tourist felt her face flush.
The right kind of attention, after all.

* * *

Ashlyn sat there, completely unimpressed.
"You said beasts. You said it was wild."
The tourist pointed out, "It's exactly that! No lies!"
"Personally, I am having a wonderful time," Shona said, holding the bag out to the couple, "popcorn?"
"Yes," Ashlyn grumbled, and took some, chewing angrily.
"I hate you," she mumbled to the Tourist.
"Love you too."
Ashlyn stopped and stared, "Sorry what was that?"
"Oh uh, I mean, I despise you, you...filthy...human...with all that finely done hair and...attractive bisexual aesthetic."
"I don't entirely know what that means, but please continue while I eat Shona's popcorn."
Pathway and Miranda slipped back in, carrying their commemorative stuffed toys.
"You really like that stuff?" the Tourist said dryly.
"It's so cute!" Miranda said, waggling the stuffed animal in front of her by awkwardly leaning over all the other seats.
"Yes, they are soft," Pathway replied.
"Well this whole thing is still stupid," Ashlyn muttered, as the announcer came back on to announce that the next round of the puppy bowl was starting.
"Shh! Miranda said, "Look the little golden retriever fell asleep!"
"So did Shona," Pathway noted.
The Tourist smiled, honestly. She'd never forget this.

​REMEMBRANCE of the JUDICATOR “So on the bright side,” began Ashlyn Oswin, straining against her bonds, “we're not back with the talking cats.” 
“Everybody wants to be a c...” Miranda began to hum sarcastically. 
“Hush, you can't sing that here,” barked a guard. “No copyrighted music, are we clear?” 
“If you think I give a damn about that sort of thing, you have another thing coming,” the mysterious traveller in all of narrative space only known as the Tourist retorted, trying to take a daring stance. 
Unfortunately, she had yet to get used to being chained at the ankles, and so ended up tripping and falling headfirst into the murky, greenish, knee-high waters of the Time Sewers. 
“I could go for some singing cats right now,” Shona commented with surprising calm while the Tourist flapped around in the water, clumsily trying to get back on her feet. 
She really didn't appear to be succeeding — she'd probably got her wrists tangled up in the chains while trying to disentangle them from around her feet, Shona and Ashlyn reckoned. She struggled some more. 
In fact, the Tourist was making an awful lot of bubbles. 
Could... specimens of... of whatever species she was... drown like regular people? Clearly they could trip like anyone else. Or get chained up by sentient crocodiles like anyone else. The real question was, could you drown in a Time Sewer? As soon as they'd arrived here, the greenish water had clogged up the plumbing of the Tourist's Pyramid, and indeed put it temporarily (and temporally) out of commission. The Tourist and her merry crew had stepped out in search of the fluid leak that was so rudely interrupting their lackadaisical rampage through the slice of omniversal reality known as the 10000 Dawns, and been immediately set upon by— 
—well, there was no non-silly way to put this, and anyway, looking at the Tourist and Miranda, Shona and Ashlyn were of a common accord that trying to hold back on the silliness now would have served little purpose. 
If Pathway had been here, there might have been some hope. Things seemed to get suddenly more serious when Pathway was around. Possibly because of the katana. But, alack, Pathway was not here, being busy following a probable wild-goose-chase for a Numbered connection in Dawn 789. 
So it was by its name that Ashlyn eventually resolved to call out to the taciturn guard. 
“Hey! You! Crocodile-guy!” 
“What is it?” the upright, sentient crocodile hissed in response, reflexively pointing its golden spear in their direction. 
“Not to be overly dramatic, but, uh, we think our fellow prisoner there is, er, drowning? Could you maybe... make sure that that... doesn't... happen?” 
“It's in your own interest,” Shona added on a bout of inspiration. “Presumably. You've kept us alive, so clearly we're valuable to you.” 
“You're not talking to a Centro stooge, you know,” Ashlyn muttered with a glare in Shona's direction, which was rather impressive as they were tied back-to-back. “Maybe these guys aren't even capitalists.” 
“I should say not!” grunted the Crocodile, waving its spear closer to them. “We are in fact a Collective! The Collective of the Retconning Crocodiles!” 
The Tourist continued to flail and bubble. 
“Isn't that nice,” Ashlyn said urgently. “Can we maybe swap cards after you save our friend—” 
“—well, more of an acquaintance really—” Miranda quipped. 
“—from drowning to death?” 
The Crocodile's unnervingly toothy maw curved into a smug grin, in a way that gave off an impression that the Crocodiles did this quite a lot. 
“Oh, that won't happen here, not in these waters,” it (he? they?) explained. “The Time Sewers aren't exactly a physical location.” 
“Oh? Isn't this part of the 10,000 Dawns?” Miranda asked with a disappointed pout. “We were rather heading for the 10,000 Dawns here.” 
“Yeah, we had a whole thing going,” Ashlyn concurred. 
“I'm only a humble guard,” the Retconning Crocodile answered, “I'm sure I wouldn't know.” 
“I thought you said you were a Collective, and yet you have an undereducated... working class? Soldier caste?” Shona asked dubiously. 
“...Good point,” said the Crocodile, and then it pulled a remote control from one of the pockets of its regal silk robes. 
Wait, since when had it been wearing a silk robe? 
...All of them? 
Wait, "them"? 
Ashlyn, Shona and Miranda looked around in bafflement. There was now an entire crowd of Crocodiles in fine silk robes watching them; the low ceiling was now high and arched, like a cathedral's. The Tourist was still flopping around in the water, though. 
At long last, one of the Crocodiles — there was no way to tell if it was the original one — stepped forward and pulled the unearthly woman out of the water. She was drenched and gasping for breath, but inexplicably, not only had her never-ending cigarette not left her lips, but its tip was still smoldering. 
“You! You!” she panted and raged at the watching reptiles. “If you do that again I will destroy you! I will annihilate you!” 
“Bigger fish have tried, little OC,” said another one of the Crocodiles. 
“Fish, drowning, hahah, very funny,” the Tourist said, rolling her eyes. “And don't call me an OC.” 
“Why? It's what you are, you know, little traveller,” said yet another Crocodile with a patronizing grin. “A first draft. An echo of the future, half-formed, bereft of a story to your name or—” 
“Ugh! I know!” she cut it off moodily. “But don't say it in front of them!” She gestured at Shona and Ashlyn. “Miranda's like me, but they — they don't understand metafiction the way I do.” 
“Tough,” snapped a Crocodile who wore a bigger and more ornate miter than the other, and was thus presumably in charge. “We are the Collective of the Retconning Crocodiles. Metafiction is our thing.” 
“Metafictional parasitism, more like,” the Tourist retorted. “This sludge you call a timeline — you seep in through the cracks when something disturbs the balance of realities, is that it? And you try for... what, global multiversal takeover?” 
“What? But... GMT's not possible,” Miranda observed, sounding as if she'd read that somewhere. “It's logically impossible. You can't linearly conquer an infinity of worlds.” 
“Oh, my dear,” said the head gator, “please do tell us what about us made you assume we were linear, so we can change it immediately. But that's besides the point. You're one to talk, little draft! Behind those shades and that too-cool-for-school attitudes, you're just another intruder.” 
“I am far more than just another intruder,” answered the woman with the pyramid. “I'm the Tourist.” 
“Those are the same thing,” scoffed the crocodile, “always have been. A tourist is an intruder in denial. At least we're honest about what we do. Retconning. It's in the name.” 
With a flourish, the Crocodile took out the remote control again and pressed another button. The chamber around them rippled and the next second, they were seated on a bench in some sort of courtroom — and they always had been. 
“So were going to do what every tourist-trap in the omniverse has wished to do from the very beginning,” the Crocodile continued. “We're going to hold a tourist accountable. We're going to put the Tourist on trial.” 
“What about us?” asked Shona, who had made the unpleasant discovery that all four women's ankles were still chained, now to the foot of the accused's bench. 
“Shona, that's the wrong question,” said the Tourist. 
“Hey! Speak for yourself!” Miranda interrupted. “I mean, I like you, but I do want out of this!” said Miranda. “If they have an issue with you for some reason—well look, we're not tourists, there's no reason they should imprison us—or kill us—or whatever it is they're going to do to—” 
“I'll thank the prisoners to please stop bickering, before we retcon them to have been mute from birth,” said the Head Crocodile, holding up its remote menacingly. “Alright?” 
All four gave silent nods. 
“And for the record, we have you three humans down as accomplices.” 
“A-ha! So you're not human!” Miranda whispered excitedly to the Tourist, who gave her a glare. 
“Even I had ever been human,” the Tourist answered through clenched teeth, “which by the way isn't admission one way or another—my method of travel would have turned me into something... more than human, one way or another, by now. Also, shut up, didn't you hear the reptiles?” 
But then she turned back to the Crocodiles with an accusing look, which, as she was the accused, surely went against all kinds of courtroom protocols. 
“That being said,” she almost shouted, “please explain to me why, and on what kind of authority, you arrest me for some innocent April's Fools Day fun, while you are planning the same thing, if not worse!” 
“The 'why' is very simple,” one of the Crocodiles answered. “Your brute-force meddling with the 10,000 Dawns' narrative is throwing a spanner into our carefully-laid plans.” 
“A little chaos between friends is a wonderful thing,” the Tourist boasted. 
“Not in the eyes of the Firmament it isn't,” the Head Crocodile boomed, thumping his staff against the marble floor for emphasis, and the four realized that it had retconned itself into having held a staff all along, just so it could do that. “Don't you see? They'll never allow your wanton interference to stand. Before day's end, I expect they'll press a massive Reset Button on the entire thing. The entire thing.” 
“Which means,” the other Crocodile elaborated, “now that you've dragged us into this mess, that our plan will be retconned out of History, too!” 
“As for the 'how',” said the Head Crocodile, “true, we have no authority to judge you for intruding upon the 10,000 Dawns, but you know what does? A resident of the 10,000 Dawns.” 
The Head Crocodile resolutely pressed the central button of his Retconning Remote, and suddenly, a Judge had been sitting on a throne all along. It was a robot of some kind — an android of minimalist design, wearing a robe dark as night, with two glowing blue rectangles for eyes and a slightly unnerving way to stare at you with them. 
“May we present the Judicator,” said the Head Crocodile, with a graceful bow for the metal judge, “of Dawn 3. The most perfect legal engine ever devised within the 10,000 Dawns, and widely recognized to have full authority within them. You might have judges who had read the law of your country, but the Judicator had read the law of every country in history. You might have judges who form a decision based on weeks of testimony and careful work through of the information through their synapses, but the Judicator...” 
“Hold on, you're just quoting the Judicator's introduction paragraph in the original 10,000 Dawns webnovel, aren't you?” the Tourist interrupted, unimpressed. 
“We already told you, we're metafictionally-interdimensional mischief-makers. This is what we do.” 
“I'm sorry,” the Judicator blinked, “did I just hear a full confession to crimes against the fabric of reality? That's... unusual.” 
“Ah, no, your honor,” the Head Crocodile said, ambling closer to the robot, “we're the accusers, not the accused. The accused are sitting on that bench over there.“ 
The Judicator's eyes flickered briefly. “Oh yes. Now let me see, son. Ah...” 
The Tourist narrowed her eyes challengingly as the Judicator peered closer at her. 
“Your honor,” said the Head Crocodile, “are you ready to pass judgement on this inveterate meddler for her crimes against the 10,000 Dawns?” 
The Judicator hummed slightly, and stepped back, and sat down in his throne again. 
“Hold on, that's not normal,” said Shona. “The Judicator isn't supposed to need time to think. That's the point of a robot judge. Well, one of them. It deliberates within microseconds. It's not—” 
“Oh, I am ready,” said the Judicator, eying the Tourist curiously. “The young lady's quite right. I am quite ready to pass judgement, if that would be proper. But you're not going to like it. I'm warning you. You're not going to like it.” 
“What?” the Crocodile shook its head. “But you're completely fair! You know every legal system there ever was! If you're not satisfied with your verdict— what?!” 
“Oh, I'm completely satisfied,” said the Judicator. “My programming is completely satisfied. I'm just saying that you're not going to like it, son. That's just how it is.” 
“Stop teasing us and give your verdict, damn you!” the Head Crocodile roared, waving its tail around in a half-circle. 
“I could hold you in contempt of court for that, son,” the Judicator, “but considering the rough time I'm about to give you that wouldn't be fair to you. So I'll refrain. ...But I could. Well, here's the dirty truth. Mysterious traveller in all of narrative space known as the Tourist, Miranda of unclear last name, Shona Davis, Ashlyn Oswin, I find you wholly innocent of any crime against the 10,000 Dawns by the standards of the vast majority of legal systems in my databanks. In fact, the vast majority of legal systems from the 10,000 Dawns' history present in my databanks concur that you five, specifically, by name, are especially, specifically and completely innocent, and that no further ruling may amend this verdict, and that you should be let go at once.” 
The accused's bench and the chains at the four world-travellers' ankles began to vanish. 
“No!” cried the Head Crocodile as all the other members of the Collective collapsed back into him. “You can't! You can't do this! I won't let you!” 
But that's not how the story went. And in the Time Sewers, once someone had set a course for the story, there was nothing more to be said. The Crocodiles had put their all in the Judicator, and the Judicator had said that the prisoners should be let go. And so—they were. 
“Come on, gang,” said the Tourist once they were all safely out of the Time Sewers and in the 10,000 Dawns proper. “We've got a lot of time-travel to do.” 
“What?” 
“Oh, haven't you lot figure it out?” the Tourist said, adjusting her tie. “Well, I don't like to brag, but I am incredibly clever. And I always will be. Which is rather the point.” 
Ashlyn's eyes widened. “Oooh.” 
“Oh! Oh! I'm getting it too!” Miranda said excitedly, bouncing on her rollerblades, which was really rather impressive. 
“Please explain,” Shona put her foot down. 
“To come to its conclusions,” the Tourist explained, talking down to Shona slightly (to her displeasure), “the Judicator draws from a sense of morality and from every record it can find of every law ever passed in history. So, if someone were to, say, go back in time and spam all legal records with an overwhelming number of new laws, stating that we specifically have to be let go under all circumstances — well — its hands would be tied, wouldn't it?” 
“But... wait, you're not really a time-traveller, are you?” Miranda noted. “You and I, we travel sideways in spacetime, not backwards and forwards.” 
“Usually, yes,” said the Tourist. “So it's a lucky thing that I've become an increasingly metafictional individual since I escaped the Drafts, hm?” 
“And an even luckier one,” Ashlyn added with a playful grin, “that you swallowed a bunch of metafictional... time-juice... from the Crocodiles' Time Sewers! Right?” 
“Right-o.” 
“And what about the 'morality' element? The Judicator isn't supposed to go in for loopholes. It's supposed to recognize cheating.” 
“Cheating? Where?” the Tourist shrugged. “We, the heroes, did what we had to do to defeat the bad guys trying to take over the world. Pretty moral if you ask me.” 
“What the Head Honcho, or whatever, said, though,” Ashlyn insisted with a front. “About the Firmament and a... reset. Is it true? Will someone step in and stop us from travelling any further?” 
“...Do I have to answer that?” 
“Ugh, enough soul-searching!” Miranda suddenly declared, and sprayed a portal onto the nearest wall. “I don't know how long it is before day's done. But in the meantime, let's have some adventures.”

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

The enemy ship was large, monolithic, and boasted no interesting features to speak of, which struck the Tourist as an equally unremarkable opening she would be sure to change when she came to retell this story.

Crewed by a menace that brought dread wherever they went, they’d plunged through dimension barriers and shattered probability mirrors to lose them. But, true to their reputation, they just kept coming.

The Canon would never stop coming.

(Much better, the Tourist noted.)

She danced around the central console of her own vessel with Ashlyn, dressed in her white lace shirt and grey hybrid jumper. And oh, what a double-act they made! They were to piloting a hyper-advanced narrative waverider as Abbott and Costello were to physical comedy – they were Laurel and Hardy, Ant ‘n’ Dec, Cheese and Crackers!

Speaking of the latter…

The Tourist furrowed her brow and took a long drag from her cigarette as she spotted, in the corner of her eye, crumbs fall to the floor from the crackers that Shona was loudly munching on while studiously monitoring the tactical readout on the viewscreen. Even the Tourist’s shadow seemed independently disapproving, she noted its stern posture with its hands on its hips, before she realised that she was emulating the same stance…

She turned to see Miranda zipping across controls on the upper-levels that now existed, and Pathway was charging up a comically large directed energy weapon – preparing to deliver a swift and explosive refutation to the Canon.

At that moment, an entitlement-class torsion missile detonated off the bow (if a pyramid vessel can be said to have such a thing) and – to the Tourist’s irritation – scrambled all the controls’ functions.

“Miranda,” she called to her rollerblading companion, who was continuing to ascend up to the sixth level that seemed to have suddenly sprung into existence. “Get these systems under control, they’ve got me flying on inverted!”

“What’s wrong with inverted?” Shona grumbled through a mouthful of crackers.

“Everything’s wrong with inverted!” the Tourist and Ashlyn snapped back.

Pathway slammed the release on their ship’s entrance portal and heaved her energy weapon into an aiming position at the first of the Canon’s streaming pods.

“They’re broadcasting this?” Ashlyn exclaimed. “They must be upset!”

“Five women existing in an independent narrative? Of course they’re upset!” Miranda called down from the seventeenth level. “Just be glad that the first thing I did was mute their repeating comms at us about how we’re unrea—"

Another torsion missile detonated, this time triggering the activation of random systems. Whatever was said next went entirely unheard by Ashlyn Oswin, as she was enveloped in an emergency teleportation field.

Her form shattered into its component molecules, tumbling through unconventional space. The Pyroclastic Kingdoms of Shuntspace, the Stellar Engines of the Dead Star Nine, the Interpluvial Helix – all these places and more, until she arrived (thankfully with a successful reconstruction) on the most exciting, most luminous world she could hope to be.

Earth.

*

D’you remember the first time you went to the beach?

There’s that moment where you come over that first hill and catch a glimpse of how the sea spans the horizon. Your young mind can’t quite comprehend its expanse, all you can do is become lost in how the light dances on the waves and watch the rolling tides.

Battlefields are like that too. But instead of the sea, it seems like an equally vast plain of cold and muddy morass. It is the frigid air that is the rolling tide, the vast interconnected network of barbed wire that is the light upon the waves, as the mind attempts to untangle what it is bearing witness to.

And it’s not true, of course – the expanse of it. No, not on this particular battlefield. The average amount of space between opposing trenches was no more than a few hundred yards at most…

Ashlyn had materialised in the heart of No Man’s Land.

Scanning the horizon, she saw two strange rectangular boxes sitting on a distant hill as the only notable landmark that wasn’t wreathed in wire. She thought of the others, where they must be now, whether they would escape, if they could possibly find her, and if she was herself stepping into far greater danger here.

But as she warily stepped forward, it was not the staccato beat of single-shot gunfire that greeted her, nor the bellowing of orders from a captain.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?

It was singing.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

Ashlyn reached the top of a muddy ridge and saw something she wouldn’t soon forget.

A great crowd of brown and green and grey uniforms stood together, more than she could count. Some shook hands, some held onto each others’ shoulders, medics tended to the wounded on both sides.

Hateful old men would do their best to ensure that nothing like this would happen again. And their evil will endure, taking ever new forms, combat against which may well be eternal – their enmity forever unslaked.

But for this single moment in history, it was two voices that joined as one, people who realised that they had no reason to hate one-another, and – however fleeting it may have seemed – the human spirit won out.

And Ashlyn, who had seen much of this evil and would fight against it with every ounce of her being regardless of whether it was a winning battle or not, was resolute that the same spirit could prevail again.

She smiled as a bear of a German soldier joined the crowd and bellowed in

Es ist in jedem Anbeginn,
das Ende nicht mehr weit
wir kommen her und gehen hin,
und mit uns geht die Zeit

The song faded from Ashlyn’s ears, as if some kind of barrier had been surreptitiously placed between them, and she found herself moving – only half-aware of where she was going – towards an old man who looked every bit a stranger to this place as she did.

She noticed that there was only one box on the horizon now. Odd…

He stood away from the crowd. His clothes were ripped and torn; Ashlyn momentarily mistook the visible tufts of red velvet sticking through his coat for blood as she got closer. The thick, furrowed eyebrows betrayed a kindly-looking face, and his untidy mop of curled grey hair was anything but regulation-length for a soldier.

She couldn’t understand what it was that stirred in her, compelled her to keep walking towards him. It was like something written into her organic circuitry and she’d just learned how to read.

She didn’t know why she smiled at this stranger who – upon facing her – looked as if he were seeing the face of an old friend.

He said a name, but it was not her own.

I think you know who it was, and she went along with it regardless.

*

“Curator!” a young lieutenant approached in some distress. “The Canon is going down, what are your orders?”

They had sustained a hit to their ventral cannon which caused a wildcat destabilisation of the Lore Drive, not to mention their streaming pods had been picked off one-by-one, bringing a premature end to their four-hour broadcast.

“Curator!”

The Curator stood there, dazed, watching the cascading explosion cause a major breach in their now disordered hull. His wispy blond hair looked like an independent sentient being from how it stood on his head as power transferred to the inertia dampers.

“Your uniform, lieutenant,” the Curator spoke at last, his voice sounding as if it were light-years away.

“My uniform?”

“I see you have deigned to impress your peers and superiors by modelling it on the Imperial battle-dress uniform.”

“Yes, sir…” An alarm began to blare, signalling the bridge crew to abandon ship.

The Curator then rounded on him, bellowing in his face as the alarm blared louder. “AND YET, you have misplaced no fewer than THREE essential canonical details, aligning yourself not with your duties as a canonical curator, but a lowly creator! The punishment for this fakery carries a ship-wide reprimand, followed by immediate excision by airlock.”

He needn’t have bothered, for the bridge was consumed with flame and the Canon was no more.

*

It only took a few minutes for the familiar pyramid vessel to materialise and for the other four women to come rushing out to find Ashlyn, who stood waiting with an expectant look on her face, before plunging herself into the arms of a welcoming group hug.

“We were terribly worried!” said the Tourist. “Luckily, Miranda was able to track the emergency teleport’s coordinates.”

“Turns out that was on the seven-hundred-and-fifth level,” Miranda grinned. “But we’ve managed to size things down to normal again. Hopefully…”

Shona nibbled on a chocolate bourbon, offering the pack around. “Well, now that we’re all back together, let’s go and find a happy story.”

“About that…” Ashlyn grabbed Pathway by the hand and pulled her and the group over to the top of the ridge, revealing the sight of the Christmas Armistice.

“It would appear that we’re in one…”

Ashlyn thought back on the strange old man. They hadn’t spoken for very long at all. Indeed, she hadn’t really been sure what to say, but she felt in a way she couldn’t quite describe that what had passed between them carried the weight of many years.

She was certain that, in some fashion, she may well have just saved the old man’s life, and that some invisible purpose within her had been fulfilled – for the last time.

But now, the time had come to revel in merriment, as the soldiers started up their song again in a gleeful encore, and the five heroines were moved to join.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?


​

By Sean Dillon, who is the new talented editor at Arcbeatle Press. Get the autographs now.
Art by Bri Crozier, who is just really damn good at what they do.

Oh, and this one is a bit darker than the others. Still a comedy story, still good fun and VERY GOOD, but delves into a few things that might not be for you today! Use your discretion :).

Go On, Toddle Along
An Exciting Adventure with The Tourist and Ashlyn Oswin

TW: Implied rape invocation, racial slurs.

As the Black Pyramid dematerialized, it made the groaning wheezing sound typically heard when Crawling plays on the radio. The sky was an evergreen cloudless blue as the remains of the moon were shattering down towards the orphanage of disabled puppies. There were a number of reasons why the moon was destroyed, among them being the belief that using nuclear weapons actually solves problems. As highlighted by the charred remains of a number of unnamed puppies who just wanted love and affection, this is not the case.
As the Black Pyramid hurtled through the bloody recesses of time and space, the destruction of the moon was not on Ashlyn Oswin’s mind. There were a number of more pressing things that she was dealing with, the least of which being the dead. For starters, there’s the Black Pyramid itself. As anyone who has been within it first notices, the interiors are far too large to fit within the exterior proportions. Not that they were all that large compared to a typical pyramid, but there was a slight size increase compared to what one would expect. They were designed with an air of gothic, albeit a gothic inspired by someone who has never experienced a work in the gothic tradition. Which is to say that there were a bunch of bones scattered around the walls and there weren’t that many sources of light. At times, Ashlyn could barely see a thing.
Then, of course, there was the woman she was traveling with. Most people called her the Tourist, if only to stop her from going on a long, rather tangential speech about how no one could ever know her true identity as it was forsaken to the cruel horrors of the universe, horrors which she fights day in day out, without want for reward, recognition, or friendship, Horrors that have taken so much from her, so many she cared for, and so forth. She would then go on to list these people at length in a way that made her seem like the true victim as opposed to those who died horribly. (Notable examples include Rey Taylor, who was turned into mush by traveling to a parallel universe of magic talking ponies, Mary Jones, who asphyxiated after resetting time to its proper place, and Dina Noble, who had some rather unfortunate experiences she, in the Tourist’s telling, begged to forget.)
The Tourist was a lean, almost cockroach-like, older woman, roughly in her early 50’s, and showed it. Though her hair was a curly brown done up in a pompadour and her skin smooth as a chameleon, beneath her eyes, inside her soul, was someone who constantly did the right thing, no matter the cost. Even if she had to kill, slaughter, maim, or exterminate to get it done, she would do what she deemed was necessary. The Tourist was dressed in a black trench coat (which she considered putting spikes on before rejecting it due to not being able to make it work with the trench coat’s fabric), black pants, a white shirt, a black tie, black sunglasses with circular frames, a cigarette perpetually hanging out of her mouth (though Ashlyn never saw it lit), and pink ballerina shoes. Her black jackboots had not yet arrived. Indeed, they were five years late despite her having a time machine that could arrive at the exact moment they were shipped mere moments after being ordered. Which was a shame since the Kreesus Man was the only thing that brought her true joy. (Well, that and hate fucking.)
“Something on your mind,” asked the Tourist. This was not done out of genuine curiosity so much as it was a calculated move in service to a larger scheme. Her traveling partner was in a bit of a mood. It was the kind of mood where it would be allowed to simmer if not questioned, and explode if it were. The traveling partner was a young 20 something with short brown hair cut into a bob just slightly long enough to barely miss the shoulders. Much like the Tourist, she was lean albeit more athletically so. More a dancer than cockroach (these were her shoes after all). She had the face of a movie star just waiting for her big break as opposed to the school teacher she ostensibly was. The Tourist’s current traveling partner, much like her previous partners, was dressed in a rather short blue skirt that emphasized her breasts, a frilly bow behind her head, and some basic high heels. She exuded an air of kindness and generosity. And yet, there was a wicked smile beneath the sweetness. It was a very Hufflepuff smile, the kind that no one suspects until there’s a sword coming out from you. You’d see the sword coming, Hufflepuffs always stab people in the front. But, as with the case of most self-proclaimed Ravenclaws, you’d be too busy lapping up your own cleverness to notice it happening. It was this, among other things, that ultimately pushed the Tourist towards asking the question to her traveling partner. She was, after all, always in the mood for a good old fashioned hate fuck.
“Well,” said Ashlyn after a moment’s thought, “I’ve been thinking.” Well, that’s a problem, thought the Tourist. Best fix that after the hate fuck.
“Thinking about what, love?”
“About these adventures we’ve been having.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Well, to stick with some of the more recent ones, there was that robot you pushed out of a hot air balloon made out of the flesh of orphan street urchins.”
“To be fair, I did it because his robot army was plotting to overthrow the Queen of England and his death was the only way to stop them.”
“Then there was the pacifistic death bot you taught the necessity of killing.”
“Only other death bots! Besides, everyone knows pacifism never works. If anyone ever tried it, they would soon realize the futility of the deed. There are evils in this world who would rather all of us die. Barbarians just waiting to overthrow our freedoms, take away our friends. I needed to teach it the futility of pacifism before it got itself murdered by the hard truths of the world we live in!”
“And then we blew up the Enchanted Wood.” Ashlyn, notably, did not name the horrid sight, the blackest gnome, who, along with a pair of peg wooden dolls, helped them in their... adventure in the Enchanted Wood.
“Bah! Better to blow up all fairy tale lands then let them be converted by the Dredded foot soldiers of the Robotmen!” She perked up, hoping her traveling partner picked up on her pun. If she did, she was confused by its relevance to the nature of the Robotmen. They were not so much jack booted thugs of an authoritarian police state who dealt in order through subjugation, but rather an insidious threat dressed in utopian ideals with a fascist undercurrent simmering beneath the surface like a bag of cocaine that has just been ripped open in the insides of a Floridian man trying very hard not to look suspicious and failing miserably. Even then, the pun worked better in prose than spoken verbally.
“And then, you ruined my date with Graelyn because you were, and I quote, bored.”
“Well, that date was going to crap anyways.” The Tourist had to be careful with this next bit. Go too far, and she leaves forever without the hate fuck or attitude adjustment. Not far enough, and the plan’s ruined.
“Then,” Ashlyn continued, on a roll with her list of adventures, “we helped a bank kidnap and brainwash an intelligent life form.”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that intelligent. Plus, the stock market needed it. Do you know how many corporations could have lost .02% of their net growth?”
“But what really hit me was our most recent adventure. It started when we got into an argument over the ethics of our adventures. A lot of our adventures have had what can only be described as… terrible results.”
“And I told you,” with an emphasis on you that only a Scottish sounding person can pull off, “that this is a hard world that requires hard decisions. Sometimes, there are only bad choices and we must pick amongst them.”
“Right, that’s what you said. And then, you put me in charge of our next adventure. We landed on the moon in the not too distant future and discovered it had been infected with carnivorous giant spiders.”
“Truly, a realistic thing to encounter in the vastly cruel cosmos.”
“We were trapped on the moon along with a platoon of Space Marines.”
“Who deserved all our support, as all troops do.”
“Who then died.”
“A tragic, but necessary sacrifice.”
“Leaving us with their nuclear weapons to defeat the Spiders.”
“And I left the decision up to you. Luckily, you made the right call in the end. Who knows what those dreadful spiders would have done if left to roam the universe.”
“Except… I almost aborted the bomb.”
“…YOU WHAT!” The Tourist was furious. Her traveling partners were typically stupid by design, but never to this degree. How could she let her down like this. The Tourist would have to scrap her sooner than she expected if this was the level of fuck up to be seen. She calmed herself quickly. There was still the potential hate fuck after all.
Ashlyn was not to be detoured. “I got a sense from them that they weren’t inherently hostile. That they reacted to us with violence because the Marines shot first. Were we to leave them alone, they would have lived peacefully on the moon. Who knows what cultures we’ve murdered, what lives they lived. I was about to abort the bomb when something hit me. Something made a horrifying amount of sense, such that I didn’t have enough time to abort the bomb. About not just that adventure, but all our adventures. It had been nagging at me for quite some time until then, but when it hit, I was awash with a sense of overwhelming clarity.”
The Tourist was starting to sweat. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that somehow, every element in our adventures is connected to the television show Doctor Who. That’s what I’m saying.” Shit, thought the Tourist. On the bright side, at least she’s never heard of Lady Aescalapi… Axeliu… Ascelopolis… That woman I had a drunken one night stand with after helping Better Living Industries defeat the Fabulous Killjoys.
“It is… only a coincidence! I do not even know who David Tennant is!” There was a bit too much emphasis on the word coincidence for Ashlyn to believe that it was. That, and the Tourist was moving a bit too close to Ashlyn for her liking. “Besides, we’ve had adventures that weren’t inspired by Doctor Who. Remember the time we stopped those reds from stealing the Martian death weapons? Or the time we sacrificed my own people for the safety of the universe. Or the time you got kidnapped and ravished by the Immortal Transphobe while I teamed up with my evil past self (who I had no idea even existed) to fend off the space police who were miffed because I created all life in the universe?”
“Ok, I think that last one happens to a different member of the, for lack of a better term, fam,” though Ashlyn did make a mental note to kick the Immortal Transphobe in the balls should they ever meet, “but I damn well know those are all plots to Doctor Who stories.”
“Erm... so what?” said the Tourist with a hint of desperation poorly disguising itself as flippancy, “So what if these stories are all like Doctor Who stories? Surely we can live and love happily! Besides,” the Tourist shifted her position such that she was very close to the Black Pyramid’s one door, barring any potential escape (not that one would want to leap into the veins of time), “if you want to avoid the story of Doctor Who, then this is the perfect opportunity to subvert it! Surely you remember that in that story, the Doctor and his companion drifted apart. But here, Here! We can come closer together. We can do what you always wanted to do: make sweet, hot passionate love! You’ve made the hard choices I make every single day. You understand the necessity of the world we live in. The cruel nature of life! I can make things so much better for you!”
And for a moment, Ashlyn paused. Not for long, of course. Where she the other one, the one she was blatantly ripping off, she might’ve been tempted to give the Tourist a snog and a hate fuck. She might’ve even done it. (Though, in the other one’s defense, were their roles swapped, she would’ve thought the same of Ashlyn.) But there was one thing that prevented her from doing so, the thing that was number one on her mind. It wasn’t so much that they were ripping off Doctor Who as it was the way they were doing it. Their story wasn’t fully Doctor Who per say. It was a bit grimmer, a bit darker, and a bit more fascist than a typical Doctor Who story (which usually aired towards a naïve liberalism). And she knew full well where her story would end:
A woman who died to inspire a hero to do dark, awful things to bring her back. The Tourist would rip time asunder and betray her own people in the name of the Lost Lenore. What drama, what consequences would there be to this tragic affair? This ancient story. This fairy tale. Obviously, they wouldn’t be able to be together in the end. Such stories never allow for the lovers to be together in the end. They would be separated. Usually, such things would be something along the lines of Orpheus and Eurydice, but their adventures would never allow something as light and fluffy as that to happen. It would have to be darker, and Ashlyn had an imagination. The Tourist’s people would offer a trade. Ashlyn, it would turn out, could birth machines such as the Black Pyramid because of some technobabble that only made aesthetic sense. If the Tourist were to allow them to use her as a means of reproduction, to create more, better traveling machines, then her traveling partner would be allowed to live (pacified, of course, so she wouldn’t run off). If the Tourist did not, Ashlyn would be killed. The Tourist would agonize over the decision, but in the end she would make the hard decision. She would say yes to her people and allow Ashlyn to live forever in bondage. It was, after all, for the greater good.
Not wanting that ending, Ashlyn asked a very simple question before landing the coup de grâce. “What’s my name?”
“What,” the Tourist retorted with a small laugh within.
“My name. We’ve been traveling for so long, surely you of all people must know my name.”
“O-of, Of course! Of course I know your name!”
“Well, what is it?”
“It’s… It’s… It’s… Cassandra?” Ashlyn responded to the wrong answer by punching the Tourist in the face. There was a rather nasty shiner on her left eye and the doors to the Black Pyramid were wide open. The Tourist almost fell out, but she held onto the frame of the entrance with great difficulty. She was too focused on holding on for dear life to form coherent sentences, only making snarls and animalistic growls that had the vague outline of language. Ashlyn raced to the console that controlled the Black Pyramid with great difficulty. But it was as if there was a corridor of air helping her along towards her goal lit up by actual lights. The Tourist was starting to lose her grip by the time Ashlyn reached the console. The Tourist gave her traveling partner a look which pleaded for mercy.
“Oh fuck off! Fuck off you twat! And forget you ever met me!!!” And with that, the Tourist fell into the veins of time, left adrift in the past, present, future, and neverwas while the doors of the Black Pyramid slammed shut. Ashlyn sighed, slightly relieved. Self-preservation, even for someone with her character, trumps horniness in the end. Ashlyn looked around. The interior of the Black Pyramid had shifted slightly. No longer the design of someone who had listened to far too much Linkin Park, now it looked like the design of someone who listened to far too much My Chemical Romance. There was still an edge to the design, but it was a different sort of edge, one that allowed for Queen, Janelle Monáe, spadging on sigils, and other queer things. The bones were still there, but there was an artfulness to their design, and they weren’t the only ornaments affixed to the walls of the Black Pyramid. Moreover, Ashlyn could actually see what the majority of the Black Pyramid looked like. There were posters of rock bands, bookshelves full of stories waiting to be annotated, a jukebox with a guitar leaning on it. Ashlyn looked at her surroundings and was pleased. She was less pleased by the clothes she was wearing. They just weren’t her style. And so, she traveled down the corridors, which seemed deeper than they once were, perhaps even diving into infinity, knowing instinctively where to go.
***
It had been a rough few months since Colonel Eliezer Levenston-Stalworth had been commissioned to defend the British dominion over India. They had recently locked a fusilier the troops called The Big Crazy for repeated misconduct, not the least of which being preventing several high ranking officers from doing what needs to be done to boost morale and keep those wogs in line. Natives, the Colonel corrected himself, we’re supposed to call them natives. However, he has been making a lot of ruckus as of late and has threatened to murder the next man to enter his cell. Sure, it was because he was being held without charges and forcibly having his hair cut to below regulation, but he’s been a troublemaker for so long. The Scot needed to be taught the proper British way of things.
Furthermore, the natives were beginning to revolt against the various platoons sanctioned to bring order to this fertile, savage land. They did not appreciate the troops slaughtering their cows to make steaks out of, nor did they like being stripped naked and beaten with sticks for daring to protest their lot in life. They had begun to form resistance groups under a fool named Gandhi who thought that non-violence could actually stand a chance against the might of the British military.
And to top it all off, a race of sea-wogs had surfaced and had aligned itself with the natives. They claim to be intellectually superior, but if they were, they would have used their technology to aid in suppressing the encroaching Nazis, natives, and other lesser peoples. (On the bright side, some of the men had rustled a herd of cows, so steak would be on the menu tonight.) All these things were on the Colonel’s mind when he heard news that a strange woman had been found nearby. He recalled his old ally the Tourist who helped fight against the barbarous hordes of Yeti and the insidious might of the Robotmen, who dared to subvert the glory of the British Empire. Perhaps she could help with their little problem.
It was reported that she was found lying unconscious on a mound of manure with a robot standing next to her. It was wearing a dapper hat and holding a box slightly smaller than a pair of Jackboots in her size…
***
Alice River was in the twilight of her spring when the death bots attacked. She had been teaching History for the past ten years. She was beloved by her students, the faculty, and had even been in meetings with several Labour and Liberal Democrats, though she herself was a member of the Scottish National Party. Her courses typically consisted of walkthroughs in various pre-English civilizations and how they led to the modern world, with a direct focus on the fictions told in those eras such that it was unsure by those who hadn’t taken her courses if she was actually a history teacher at all. Those who did knew she was always talking about History.
Her husband, Roland Williams, was a nurse who worked at a nearby hospice. When he started his medical career, Roland had wanted to be a doctor. However, as he began his medical degree, it occurred to him that his strengths were in assisting those in need. He could do a diagnosis like no one else, but he was stronger doing the equally complex work of organizing a hospital to have all the right people in the right place, to keep the patients comfortable in between the doctor’s visits, and to guide them to the next stage in life. He had been friends with Alice since they were kids and it was only before they went to college that they realized their feelings for one another. (Indeed, they were the last people in their small town to realize that.) They were married a year after they graduated college and loved each other for all the years that followed. They never had kids (Alice was infertile), but that didn’t dampen their relationship (bar one fight before they got married).
What did dampen their relationship was the death bots attacking. One of them struck Roland in his right shoulder. He was lucky to have survived. Practically everyone else was dying, Alice could hear the screams of her students, her fellow faculty, and all the other people wandering the university grounds. She was awash with dread and misery. The only thing keeping her going was her husband, who was screaming in pain. Fortunately, one of her students was with Alice and was able to help carry her husband to a safe location. The student’s name was Bob Potterson, and she was a rather odd student. Officially, she wasn’t a student at all. She couldn’t afford to go to college, so she worked in the cafeteria serving chips to the students. On her off hours, Bob would sneak into various lectures held in the university. The one she cared about the most, however, was Alice’s. There was a small degree of a crush to this (though Bob recognized that such a relationship wouldn’t work out), but it was mostly due to how invigorated and excited Alice was about history, about the people who once lived, the stories they told, the stories lost, all the things that make us who we are. It always put a smile on Bob’s face. Alice, when she found out about Bob, let her stay on and acted as a personal tutor. She liked Bob’s smile and how she asked seemingly obvious, yet unasked questions.
The three found themselves in one of the classrooms. It wasn’t that large, roughly large enough to fit forty students at a time. But it was enough to keep Roland alive. He weakly told the two that he was going to be okay, but his voice refused to lie to them. On a normal day, such an injury would mean Roland would lose his arm. It would take him years to relearn all the things he did with just one arm. He would have to stop nursing for a while, maybe forever. Alice would still be there for him, maybe take a semester or two off to help with the early transition. But it would still hurt.
Fortunately, this was not a normal day. For as Alice was tending Roland’s wounds as best she could, a wheezing groaning sound akin to a dying llama filled the room. The three were awash with a wind from nowhere. In its place, landing precisely atop the tables, was a Black Pyramid. In the direction facing the three was a door with a novelty maple leaf for a knob. The door opened rather smoothly; in its frame was a woman. At first, she was silhouetted by the light from within, almost blindingly bright. But as she stepped closer, they could make more of her out. The woman was dressed in a purple suit with a loose black tie dangling around her white shirt. She was wearing a bowler hat with a small bisexual flag stitched to its rim. She was wearing a fashionable pair of flip flops with a smile on their heels. She had a tattoo on the left side of her neck of a raven flying high. Her hair was cut in a bob just long enough to not reach her shoulders. She was lean, she was confident, and she had the closed smile of someone who had just recently thought about the prospect of space-age wiccan polyamory.
Alice was intrigued by the woman, but somewhat weary of the Black Pyramid. There was an implication of banal cruelty to its design. One of someone who thought brutalism wasn’t brutal enough. And yet, the woman inside seemed to subvert those expectations. She was like the imaginary friend everyone had, the one who wanted to overthrow the government because it was a bit too cruel. Roland was a bit too dazed and confused to have an opinion. Alice seemed at ease with the woman, so he tried to relax. But there was something about that smile of hers that made him think of dashing adventurers who get too close to danger and leave too many wounded behind. Though, again, he was a bit too dazed to have a full opinion. Bob, on the other hand, had a toothy grin on her face. She could tell the woman was her kind of people. She stood with a confidence Bob wished to have in herself. She was sure Helen would be fine with a threesome, right?
(Unbeknownst to Bob, Helen was already in the Black Pyramid, along with a bunch of other students, faculty, and people in the line of death bot fire. A clever plan all things considered, evacuating as many people as possible so the death bots will think they have murdered everyone and move on to somewhere else. That way, mostly everyone will live. The woman thought about the life she was about to go into. About all the places she could see. If danger came, she’d meet it as best she could. Sometimes, she thought, violence is necessary. But only a twat thinks it’s the only solution. Who knows, she thought, maybe I’ll run into her again. And then she laughed in her head and turned towards those outside the Black Pyramid with a polite smile on her face.)
“Hello. My name’s Ashlyn Oswin. Need a lift?”
    

​

You wake up. Looking back on all the other times you woke up before in your life, this one strikes you as different. Probably because of the woman with light blue eyes and hair with pale white skin looking down at you while pterodactyls fly through the sky, in which hangs a gigantic...thing. Like two pyramids placed bottom to bottom, with a wheel of spikes sandwiched in the middle. So that's unusual.
But somehow the thing that really throws all of it off for you is that the woman is wearing a white tracksuit with glowing blue stripes, the jacket unzipped to reveal a plain blue tee.
You mean, come on, dinosaurs and a giant sky double pyramid thing, they're both unusual. They go together in a weird way. Even the lady with the light blue ponytail, and somehow matching eyelashes and eyebrows, sure.
But the tracksuit.
Come on.
"Hey, I'm Pathway. I take it you've never been teleported before?"
Of course you haven't. She nods, face firm. She doesn't appear to be a smiler, but does extend a hand you take, as she pulls you to your feet.
"You must have gotten caught up in the Creation Machine's shift. Regardless of what you like, you're going to need to help me. Its the only way you'll get out of this fiasco alive."
Wait hold, up, you recognise Pathway! She...you saw her at class the other day. Only she had peachier skin, and brown hair. She was new along with the grungy guy, with the stubble, who...
Oh, there he is too. He bursts through the bushes, a bulky rifle in hand. It looks like something from a sci-fi movie. He is wearing a grey uniform now, with the number 789 on the breast. This detail becomes more notable when Pathway draws her sword (!) from her back, and points it at him.
"789, you're not getting our classmate."
Wait, you say, what exactly is going on?
"You shouldn't listen to Pathway here, she and the Infinite want to destabilize the universe. You and I got along, come one, just come over to my side of the clearing, I can explain everything."
"I'll cut your throat out," Pathway replies, and the edge of the sword glows blue.
Okay, at this point you just have to ask who exactly the Infinite are?
"We're guardians of the multiverse. Not by choice. We had to, when Lady Frostbite and her people, the Numbered, decided to take it over."
"We did so for the good of all! What Pathway fails to tell you is that there's only so much stuff in existence, and we're going to make sure it doesn't run out. The Infinite think that things are limitless, everyone gets a free lunch with no consequences."
Okay, so this is an ideological war?
"It's a war," Pathway replies, "over the creation machine." She points into the sky, at the double pyramid thing.
You're about to ask what that is, when a great cry breaks you out of your revery.
It's a goddamn Tyrannosaurus rex, bursting through the treeline.
How did we not notice it?
"It probably only just came into existence, get back!" Pathway shoves you back, and as 789 blasts the dino with his gun, green bursts of energy racking it, Pathway blocks it's teeth with her sword. Getting the blade between two teeth, as the Rex swings its head up to try to bite her again she leans into the momentum.
She flips backwards , and lands with her sword in the back of the predator's neck, sliding down its back and splitting its spine. She lands with a hop off of it, and looks at 789, "Sorry, what were you saying about our ideology?"
But he'd already started running.
Okay, what just happened.
"The creation machine made that dinosaur, it made this entire planet. That's what it does. We need to keep going I just need to find my orb."
Your what?"
She holds her hand out to you, "My way of travel. Now come on, there's a lot I need to explain to you. The 10,000 worlds created by the creation machine need to be defended, and I'm sworn to do that. But I'm also sworn to aid anyone caught up in this without their choice. Would you come with me?" The edge of her lips curl up in a smile.

You'd still have enough time to catch up to 789.

Do you take her hand or not?

THE WAR ACROSS THE INFINITE
10,000 DAWNS PROTOTYPE

​

​Copyright 2020 Arcbeatle Press and James Wylder
Any resemblance to persons living or dead, fictional or real, or events past or present is either purely coincidental or done firmly within the grounds of loving parody.
Any attempt to use this story to make weird claims on a wiki argument thread should probably be grounds to ignore any other arguments from the user making those claims forever. Just saying. It's an April fools story, I mean really.

It was getting late. Another day at Brightstone Farm had come to an end. Closing the latch on the barn door, Redacted Pinorva drew in a deep breath. The lush smell of the meadow filled his nostrils, carrying all the gentle flavors of summer. It was days like this he would remember for the rest of his life.
Strolling back through the fields towards the farmhouse, he saw his uncle, Uncle, stride out to meet him.
"Redacted, my boy." Uncle greeted him with a warm smile, his face as old and haggard as the trees in Hayseed Wood. He placed his arm around Redacted's shoulders and together they headed for home. "You've done me proud today, boy. Not only did you stop that pesky Xiz invasion, you also managed to get my tractor fixed." He tapped at his chin. "I think I'll make your favorite for dinner tonight."
Redacted's eyes lit up. "Chicken masala with extra chapattis?"
Uncle scratched his head. He coughed awkwardly. "No. Spinach. Now get inside and eat your greens!"
Grumbling, Redacted ran into the farmhouse. Uncle stopped at the porch and took one last glance at the sky. He smiled at the setting sun, well aware it was one of the last he would see.

At the edge of the farm, the peace was about to end. The barn door rattled. The latch leapt up and down. Something inside wanted to get out; the cows were all too happy for that to happen.
They didn't have to wait long.
With the hiss of a Zolar ray gun, the barn door disintegrated, and five people stepped out.
"Here we go again," said the Tourist, taking in her picturesque surroundings. "Another narrative to subvert."
The five intruders strode across the rolling fields heading for a solitary farmhouse, where a family sat down for dinner.

"How was that?" Uncle asked as he gobbled down the last piece of spinach on his plate.
Redacted's face screwed up into a ball of disgust. "Fine, Uncle. Though I don't quite know how you can forget what my favorite meal was."
"I'm sorry, my boy," said Uncle. His head hung low in shame. "It was so long ago I just forgot."
Redacted looked confused. "Uncle, we had chicken masala last week!"
Uncle chuckled. "Perhaps when you get to my age you'll understand."
Redacted's confusion quickly turned to concern. "Are you sure you're alright, Uncle? You've seemed ever so distant recently."
Uncle's face grew grave. He left the dinner table and walked over to the refrigerator. When he opened the door his face was bathed in a pool of golden light, much brighter than that of a normal refrigerator. For a moment Uncle seemed mesmerized. He quickly snapped out of it, and returned to the table with two bowls of rice pudding. "I hope this will help you forgive me for the curry incident?"
Redacted smiled, pulling the bowl towards him with hungry eyes. "All is forgiven, Uncle."
Uncle smiled, watching his nephew eat with pride in his eyes.
Knock knock.
Uncle's eyes darted to the door. I can't remember this part!
Before either of them rose to answer their late night caller, the door opened. Five women stepped into the kitchen, dressed in all manner of strange clothes. They looked like rejects from a prolific book series. Uncle had a sneaking suspicion they were.
Their leader stepped forward. "Hey guys! I'm the Tourist. These are my friends; Miranda, Ashlyn, Shona and Pathway. I hear you two were both neglected by your author. We've come to share our sympathies. You see, we too were scrapped, or sidelined in the creative process. We're actually quite pissed about the whole thing. We're popping from reality to reality to give our creator the middle finger. Hope you understand."
Redacted and Uncle found themselves nodding even though they had no idea what the strange lady was saying. Alien invaders were weird; these people were freaks!
"Hope you don't mind me doing a spot of redecorating?" Miranda raced around the room on her roller-skates, dousing the walls with spray-paint. "There. Much better!"
Redacted leapt up from his seat. "Stop that. This is our home!"
Ashlyn held out an arm to calm him. "Never you mind about that. What's your name?"
"Redacted Pinorva," Redacted replied.
Ashlyn batted her eyelashes at him and gently placed him back in his chair.
"Redacted Pinorva? That's a weird name."
"His first name was used by another intellectual property," Shona explained. "Happens all the time when the author doesn't finish their work quick enough."
"And what's your uncle called, sweetie?"
"Uncle," said Redacted, like it was obvious.
"Uncle?" laughed Pathway. "What kind of name is that?"
The Tourist joined in. "Your author couldn't even be bothered to give you a proper name!"
Tears formed in Uncle's eyes. "I think you'll find I DO have a name. I'm just not allowed to tell him!” He thrust a finger at his nephew.
"What are you talking about, Uncle?"
Uncle glanced at the intruders in his kitchen and rolled his eyes. "Well since you lot have barged in and broken the narrative, I may as well tell you." Rising from his chair, Uncle leaned over the table. "I'm you, Redacted. You from thousands of years in the future. You after a terrible war wipes out our people. You shortly before I slip back into my ship - that fridge over there - and usurp the throne of the Eternal King in order to break the laws of time and pluck you out of the War before its devastating conclusion. In the process you become the sole survivor of said war, and a cyclical paradox is created that ensures the survival of our race. Happy?"
Redacted's jaw fell open. "Geez, Uncle. Spoilers much?"
"Sounds quite a complicated story we've got going on here," said Ashlyn. "I'm surprised this idea wasn't made into a series."
"The author got bored," the Tourist explained, "preferred to write space adventures about the Roc's Feather and its crew's battles against the Voltron."
"Voltron!" Uncle squawked. "They're B-movie villains at best. They were nothing compared to the villains from my adventures. I stopped the Aubrite from rewriting reality!"
"Actually, on that note." The Tourist pulled a distress beacon from her pocket. "We're actually here to do just that. We're here to draw the attention of the powers that be. Figured destroying this reality might work. This distress beacon may look small, but it has the power to call upon every hostile ship in the universe. Well, this universe anyway. If there's anything that'll get our creator's attention, it'll be blowing up the main setting of one of his worlds."
Shona held up her hand. "But doesn't this Earth belong to another author? We were literally just talking about how that guy couldn't be bothered to name anyone around here."
"Hey!" shouted Pathway. "You never said anything about destroying the entire world!"
The Tourist groaned. "Not now, Pathway, I'm busy. This is all besides the point. Now we've gone to the effort we may as well blow this place up anyway." She turned her attention back to Uncle. "I'd invite you along for the ride but you're a tad… past your prime." She shrugged. Seeing Redacted's hurt look she added: "And you're too inexperienced. Sorry!"
The Tourist pushed her thumb down and the distress beacon activated. Already the world seemed different, like a countdown had begun on a quick march to zero.
Opening the front door, Ashlyn ushered everyone outside. "Come on, we may as well observe the spectacle while we're still here."
The five miscreants stood in the middle of a field, staring up to the sky. Redacted and Uncle followed, unable to form a plan quick enough as their world ended around them.
They watched as every conceivable invasion happened at once. Helicron, Xiz, Draxi and Voltron ships reigned down from the skies. A Solari pilgrimage vessel collided with an Artari sunskipper. The warpdrive of the sunskipper was hit, sending a devastating blast of Iglix radiation into the stratosphere. Every ship in the sky was caught by the shockwave, turned into molten fireballs of doom. They descended. The apocalypse had begun.
"Better be quick before the blast gets us," said Miranda.
"Hop in," said the Tourist, throwing her pyramid-shaped transport onto the grass. It grew to the size of a small shed. As her companions entered, the Tourist cackled to herself. "If this doesn't get their attention I don't know what will."
Seconds later they were gone. The crashing ships hit the Earth. The world ended.

​

​The garbage was moving.
Ashlyn Oswin squinted at the shifting trash, waiting for a rat to come out of it. She liked rats, they were underrated mammals, and right now even a feral one would improve her mood. Disappointingly, it was a human hand.
"Oh," she vocalized as if someone in the universe's editorial department could hear her and revamp her day to be more interesting.
The woman attached to the hand was not a normal woman, not that that meant a lot when you could pay for you favorite genetic and surgical enhancements on demand, though the thrill had eventually been lost for most folks on Earth. This woman wore a white track suit, remarkably unstained by the trash, win a single glowing blue stripe going up the legs, sleeves, and side. the jacket was open to reveal a blue shirt. She was an athletic beanpole, her light blue hair  was tied back in a ponytail, and along with her matching light blue eyes stood out 
against her pale white skin. Ashlyn however focused on two things: the tennis ball sized orb floating above the lady's shoulder, and the Katana in her left hand.
The woman pulled herself up, then hopped out on one food, doing a little hopping shake to get the rest of the trash off. The orb then ran a light over her, and the remains of the garbage she hadn't gotten vanished from her.
"You," the woman opened, pointing her sword at Ashlyn, "where am I."
"Why were you in the garbage, and why do you have a sword?" she asked calmly.
The lady stepped forward, eyes narrowing. her eyebrows and eyelashes were light blue, like it was their natural color... "Answer me, your answer could mean the difference between life and death for your world."
Ashlyn sighed, "Really? I mean, not that I'm not up for that sort of thing, but I was on my way to grab a cake."
"Cake can wait."
"A terrible way to live your life."
Their confrontation was interrupted by a glowing portal made of magical sigils appearing on the wall, and another woman flying out of it, and smacking instantly against the other wall of the alley, and landing in the trash pile tracksuit had fallen in.
"Ah," Ashlyn said, keenly picking up on the obvious pattern.
Tracksuit pointed the sword at this new arrival, and the edge of the sword glowed the same blow as the lines on her suit.
The new arrival, also covered in garbage, was however a bit of a let down on the threat department. She was wearing roller blades, had a packed backpack, and a can of spraypaint in her brown-skinned hand. Her black hair was neatly cared for, aside from the garbage. She looked like a teenager, and threw her hands up in the air at the strange woman pointing a sword at her.
"I'm unarmed!"
"What's that in your hand?"
"It's paint?"
"In a can?"
"...Yeah?"
She lowered the sword, "Alright, what is going on here?"
Ashlyn clapped her on the shoulder, "Finally you're catching on. No one here has any idea it would seem."
"I sure don't!" Rollerblades said.
Ashlyn coughed, "Hey blade lady, could you, uh..." she gestured at the garbage all over rollerblades.
"Yes," she replied curtly. The orb zipped over to her, and the light panned over her, wiping the garbage away. This turned out to be good timing, as white light appeared on the wall in a circle, and a fourth woman stepped out, in a red beret and gray uniform, eating sandwich.
They stared at her.
She stared back.
"Hi," she said.
"What's up?" Ashlyn asked.
"Saw a portal to an alternate reality, thought I'd check it out."
Tracksuit raised an eyebrow, "Just...casually?"
She looked back and forth between all three of them, "Is that wrong? I mean I was already taking a walk."
"I mean did you know how you'd get back?"
She shrugged.
Ashlyn sighed, "Throw yourself in the garbage pile."
Beret checked out the garbage, "No thank you?"
"Everyone else did it. Tracksuit here can get you all cleaned up afterwards."
"My name is not--"
"Shh"
Beret looked at the pile, looked back, looked at the pile, and handed Ashlyn her sandwich, then threw herself in the pile, got out, and was immediately cleansed by the orb.
"Alright, now that we all did that."
"Did you throw yourself in the pile?" Tracksuit asked.
"Of course, right before you arrived," she lied, "Now what are we all doing here in this alley?"

* * *

Around the corner, a fifth woman was looking at her watch, looking back at a black pyramid the size of a fist, and then looking out the window. She grumbled, and then it something hit her, she bolted up, cursing, and scrambled out the door of the cafe yelling "Shit shit shit."

She slid around the corner, and ran into the alley behind the cafe, where four women were standing already. Panting a little, she tried to get into a mysterious looking pose, put a little smirk on her mouth, and with a laugh (and some panting asked, "So, I assume you wonder why I gathered you all here today?"
"She's the one who dropped us all in the trash?" Tracksuit asked, swirling her sword around.
"No, hold up! You're all here for a very important reason, I just got the co-ordinates a bit wrong. I'm used to working with negative numbers and..." she took a deep breath, and posed with her hand under her chin, "Regardless of my error, I have an offer for all of you, all five of us share something in common?"
"Garbage?" Rollerblades asked.
"No, Miranda, what we share in common is that we've been wronged."
"By who?" Ashlyn asked, "Other than you who threw us in garbage?"
"By the narrative!"

* * *

The Tourist slammed a book down on the table. Ashlyn reached forward to pick it up, “10,000 Dawns, by James Wylder? What kind of a book is that, his last name is spelled wrong.”
"That book," she said, "is the end result of the drafts of your lives. All of us, in some way or another, were destined for better times. To be illustrated! Be on merchandise! Be featured in unpublished cardgames! But no, all of you, all of us, got cut out, replaced, or ignored. You, Pathway, what's your job?"
Pathway crossed her arms, "I am traveling with a great hero to save the universe from the Numbered."
"Yes yes! And do you ever get there?"
She raise an eyebrow, "Well of course not, because time goes forward linearly, and we haven't gotten that far."
The Tourist pulled her sunglasses up so Pathway could see her roll her eyes, "No! No no no. You never reached that because you were in the first draft of 10,000 Dawns, when Mr. Wylder was in High School. And in that draft, it wasn't even a novel! It was a roleplaying game! You were the preset character who went along to guide the player characters along their path. He even named you Pathway, so creative. Tell me, what's the name of that great hero?"
She paused, and then a silence emanated from it.
"...yes?"
"Well it could be a lot of things."
"What's your relationship to this hero?"
"They're my best friend, and maybe more."
"Then. What. Is. Their. Name."
Pathway coughed.
The tourist put both hands palms up at her side, "Hmn?"
"...I don't know."
"Exactly! And you," she turned her attention to Miranda, "You used to actually be the protagonist! The hero of your own story!"
"I...am the hero of my own story? I'm trying to defeat the gods, and Zeus, as part of the cult."
The Tourist waggled her finger, "Nuh uh! You get relegated, in a rather different form to being a minor character who works with Johnathan Vice--"
"John!" she lit up, "Can you pick him up too? I'd love having him around."
She sighed, "No. This is a girls only comedy holiday event. Let me finish. Mr. Wylder made you a minor character. Instead he replaced you with, of all people, Graelyn Scythes. Graelyn! Her first name doesn't even make sense! How is that Russian?"
Ashlyn raised a hand, "Oh there's a story behind that, see--"
"I didn't ask for you to retcon it into making sense, Ashlyn! And let's talk about you, how about? Your role in the novel is you show up in a flashback where you break up with Graelyn. That's it."
Finally, a good reaction, she looked absolutely offended, "That's it? What? No, I'm absolutely a major supporting character at the least. The least!"
"Nope. Though you did get a single spin off story before they forgot about you again."
She pouted.
Extending her arms and spinning around the empty cafe, the Tourist grinned, stopping in a pose to point at Shona, "And then there's you, the surprise hit popular character from 10kd! And how many times did you show up?"
Shona shrugged, "No offense, but I don't...really care?"
She threw her arms up, "And that's why they love you...are...are you drinking a bubble tea? Where...where did you get that?"
Shona shrugged yet again.
"Dammit, this is why they love you. But again, you disappeared! They couldn't even capitalize on golden characters like you. They're nitwits!"
Ashlyn stood up, "And who are you exactly?"
The Tourist spun again, landing this time in a dark and brooding pose. "I am a member of a powerful race of beings called the Elders. We ruled our universe from the sidelines, but mostly we were just really really bored."
"So like the gods?" Miranda asked.
"Like the Firmament?" Ashlyn added.
"Like both. Because as the drafts changed, the names changed, and eventually, I turned into...this!"
She pressed a button on her wristwatch, and two images were projected on the wall, both of an eccentrically dressed brown skinned woman, but not the same one, but somehow maybe the same one.
"Lady Aesculapius. My replacement. Look how cheerful it is. Beautiful illustrations though, Anne-Laure Tuduri and Johannes Chazot really should be commended. But I digress. When the Firmament was making the 10,000 Dawns, they made several drafts, trying to get the elements they wanted correct. They didn't delete those drafts though, just sort of...locked them away. I realized that I was trapped in an unfinished universe, and I escaped! I looked for meaning in it, and traveled to a universe where the 10,000 Dawns were, ridiculously, a book series by a talentless hack who managed to get a bunch of actually talented people to team up with him to make some stories, and read them. Oh the things I learned...And I thought...this isn't fair? This sucks? I don't want to live like this and I deserve attention!"
"Very modest," Pathway said.
"I thought so."
Miranda raised her hand, "So...what exactly is your plan?"
"We team up! The five of us work together to try to get everyone's attention again! We deserve to be featured characters in the narrative of the universe, and if some idiot is writing stories about people he used us as stepping stones to get to, we should at least get a piece of commissioned art?"
Shona called out from between a mouth of chips, "I literally have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh."
"But I'm bored so I'm in. Why not."
"Oh!"
Ashlyn stood up, "I'm absolutely in. This is unfathomable. We kidnap James Wylder, and force him to write something else."
The Tourist raised both hands up, "Maybe, but I think we have another option first, if the rest of you are in."
Miranda tapped her roller bladed foot against the floor, "...yeah. Yeah I'm in. Let's make some noise!"
Pathway screwed her mouth up, "Do I have...an analog in the final story?"
The Tourist shook her head, "No, there wasn't really a need."
She slowly nodded, "Then I'd like to die with my name on at least one person's lips. I will come."
Ashlyn crossed her arms.
The Tourist crossed her arms too.
They firmed their brows.
"Alright then, Tourist, how exactly are we going to do this?"
The Tourist snapped, and a black pyramid the side of a dinner plate popped into being, green lines running along it's surface. It dropped to the floor, and grew till it was large enough for a doorway to slide open.
"I didn't mention? I have a ship that travels through narrative. All of the 10,000 Dawns is at our fingertips, and outside it too if we get bored. So then...where should we go first?"

* * *

Miranda skated another circuit around the catwalk around the main room of the pyramid. It would have been a lot easier if it was a circle, but she could use the railings to swing the corners so it wasn’t too bad. Even so, she could tell that everyone watching her from the lower level had the same thought: why exactly did this ship have a catwalk there. Did it aesthetically look cool? Yes. If there was a camera crew, would it let them get a lot more cool shots than if they were all trapped on the ground floor? Also yes, But as it was there was a stairway that led up to the catwalk, and the catwalk led to no other doors.
“So uh, why?” Shona finally had the nerve to ask.
“It is a prototype,” The Tourist answered. “Who knows.”
Ashlyn leaned against what she assumed was a control console, “So then, what’s the first step of this big plan, miss Tourist?”
The Tourist laughed, and made a fist, their fears reflecting in her sunglasses, “Well first of all, miss Oswin...could you get off the coffeemaker that things kind of expensive, you can even make lattes with it.”
Shona cooed, “We could open up a coffee shop!”
“Maybe later! Our first step is to take over the broadcasting center on the View, and to broadcast out to the multiverse that were here, we’re queer, and we’re ready to party!” She pumped her fist in the air waiting for applause. None came.
“What’s the view, and are we sure we’re all somewhere on the LGBT+ spectrum?” Ashlyn asked.
“Anyone not?” Miranda called down. Crickets.
“I really need to get those bugs out of here, even if they amplify rhetorical effects,” the Tourist mumbled, “alright then, what is the View? Why, it’s the place at the junction of infinity! Travelers from all over the multiverse hang out there! So what do you say, with your help, we’ll send a message to all the people who have never heard of us!”
Finally, she got the reaction she wanted.

* * *

Well, it figured things wouldn’t go as planned. Ashlyn had gone clubbing, and was now making out with a girl at a milk bar. Pathway had joined a sword-fighting contest, and was dueling Cyborg Mushashi Miyamoto, again. Shona had eaten four donuts and was taking a nap next to her now. Miranda was participating in a roller derby competition. Which, well, at least was entertaining to watch, even if Shona had fallen asleep.
“Go Miranda!” she yelled, completely dispassionately. She didn’t need the encouragement anyway, the girl was like if you gave a bulldozer gymnastics lessons, flipping over people, smashing past them. At least the day wasn’t a total waste. The Tourist didn’t know the rules, but she did know that Miranda had won, because the big light up sign said “WINNER” and the ref was holding her hand up while she stood on a podium. Subtle hints.
“Now Miranda,” the announcer asked, “you can ask for anything within the View as your prize. What do you wish?”
She stood dumbfounded, and probably would have said something like “a cola”, if the Tourist hadn’t yelled out, “Hey! Ask for the keys to the broadcasting room!”
The announcer’s face fell, “Oh. Can...can they ask for that?”
A team of lawyers checked, and as their faces fell rinkside, the Tourist let out a whoop. Victory! Accidentally! But she’d take it.

* * *

The five of them sat at a desk, looking out at the 4D cameras. Makeup was done. Lighting was perfect. Time to tell everyone who they were.
“Hello multiverse, and all of you reading at home. My name is the Tourist. You might not know me, but you will. Along with my new friends Ashlyn, Pathway, Shona, and Miranda, we’re the new heroines of this story! We’re taking over. So you’d better get ready. You may have forgotten us, you may not have even known about us, but today, on this day where you should absolutely take everything you read on the internet at face value*, you’ll remember us! Watch out, because our adventures are just starting.”

*do not do that

THE FORGOTTEN HEROINES OF 10,000 DAWNS BIG TAKEOVER

A NEW ONE-DAY EVENT SERIES WITH ART BY BRI CROZIER

FEATURING NEW STORIES BY
JAMES WYLDER
JAMES HORNBY
SEAN DILLON
ALEX WAKEFORD
AND
ARISTIDE TWAIN

ARCBEATLE PRESS APRIL FOOLS 2020

England, somewhere outside a pit, 1651.
The young man ran. He’d been running for what seemed like ages now. He’d fought, and lost, and fought, and lost again, and now all there was left was running.
But this time, the running was a little different than he’d expected.
He slipped behind the tree, trying to keep his breath quiet. His face was still dirty from hiding in a hole to escape the last people chasing him. Now this.
Nervously, he leaned his head out around the tree, slowly edging his way out, and bumped his forehead into someone else’s.
“Ow!” said Lady Aesculapius.
“Ow!” agreed the young man.
“Why are you hiding behind a tree?”
“Why are you creeping around a tree?”
“I’m on a secret mission!”
“I’m being chased by soldiers.”
Aesc stuck her lips out and nodded. “That’s the pits. Like, the violent type of soldier?”
“Is there another?”
“My girlfriend was a soldier and...no she still punches people, forget that.”
Beyond the trees, they heard approaching voices and footsteps.
“Hey, new friend--”
“Charlie.”
“Awesome, how about we run for our lives?”
They ran, until the sounds of the soldiers behind them faded, and they wheeled to take shelter behind a different larger tree then before.
“Ow!” Jason said as Charlie slammed into him.
“Ow!” Charlie replied.
“Ow!” Aesc said as she slammed into Blanche.
“Huh, so you just looped back around?” Blanche said.
Aesc frowned as she rubbed her nose. “You were supposed to say ‘Ow!’, we had a bit going!”
Blanche looked at the young man. “Who is this?”
“He’s Charlie. Soldiers want him for some reason.” Lady Aesc turned to face him. “We’ll protect you, and keep you safe, alright?”
He bowed his head. “Thank you, thank you so much but...what are you doing here?”
There were shouts, and the sounds of terrified soldiers fleeing into the night.
“I think we just found what we’ve been looking for,” Aesc grinned. “Does everyone have their secret weapon? I have my book of matches!”
“I have my thermos of hot liquid!” Jason volunteered.
“I have my military-grade flamethrower,” Blanche finished.
“Good, we’re all set then…”
From behind the tree, the sounds grew closer, and hazarding a look, Charlie peeked to see what it was.
It was made of ice and snow, a long limbed thing with a forked tail and a big sack hoisted over its back. It turned its head from side to side, ice eyes rolling around till it stopped, and began to pull the sack open.
It was a funny feeling when the sack opened up - it wasn’t so much that things looked different, as they felt different. The world felt...colder.
“Aesc, this feels...wrong,” Blanche noted.
“That snow-imp thing is...it’s putting the day into the sack. This day. The first day of Christmas. But...why? Why would it want time?”
Blanche took the safety off the flamethrower. “Well, we should probably stop it stealing time then.”
“Eh, nevermind, new plan. The flamethrower probably isn’t the best call here,” Aesc jumped out from behind the tree, and held up a glass marble at the creature.
“Come at me, bro!” she yelled. The creature gave a roar, and rushed at her, and as it got close to the marble...shrunk down and seemed to zip inside it. With a wink, Aesc followed, and then Jason shrank after her!
Blanche looked at Charlie, and as he tried to find words to describe the witchcraft happening around him, she grabbed him by the shirt and chucked him at the marble.
He shrank! Or, maybe the marble grew? Before he knew it, he was standing in a crystal room, next to the three strangers and the creature. It roared again, and then began melting as the temperature rose.
It stumbled forward, feet turning to puddles of water leaving behind only the sack, and a card.
“What is happening?” Charlie cried out. “And what was that monster?
Aesc hopped in the puddle. “A snow imp. No idea where it’s from.” She picked the card up from the ground. “Wow, never mind, I should have waited literally ten seconds.”
Jason took the card from her and looked at it. Charlie peered at it over his shoulder.
“Co-ordinates!” Jason exclaimed.
“Precisely, so I guess I do know where it’s from, whoops.” Then her brow furrowed. “Crap. I missed something obvious there. Let me see the card with the coordinates again."
"Why can't we just give it to Phil, wouldn't that save time?"
"Phil?" Charlie asked.
"I'm the ship," Phil answered from the entire room.
Charlie nodded, his pupils growing expansive.
"Just hand me the card already."
Jason slipped it over, and Aesc's brow furrowed. "These are negative coordinates."
"Coordinates inside the 10,000 Dawns are never negative." Blanche said.
"That's...not entirely true. Damn it, Festive Firmament..." she sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "This Lady Frostbite, whoever she is, took the 12 days of Christmas into the Sketch."
"Obligatory response you want where we ask you to explain what the Sketch is," Blanche monotoned.
"During the creation of the 10,000 Dawns, there were several...beta versions. Rough drafts. When the 10,000 Dawns were all finished it was decided it would be immoral to get rid of them, despite each one having some sort of major flaw to it. You know how sometimes when you play a videogame they leave in levels they deleted early on in development in the code because it's easier to leave the code there than cut them out? It's sort of like that. Each negative Dawn is one of those universes. A few of them are close to a finished state, most of them resemble a white canvas with a plot of land smack dab in the middle."
Blanche and Jason applauded, and Charlie started applauding too so he wouldn't feel left out.
"Excellent info dump Aesc!" Jason praised.
"You're really getting better at exposition, babe!" Blanche noted.
Aesc brushed the compliments out of the air but didn't hide her blush. "Well, I have been practicing."
“Are you angels or demons?” asked Charlie. “Spirits?”
Aesc picked up the sack, and looked inside it. “Well, think of us as guardians of existence. Whatever that means to you personally, I’ll just roll with it for today.”
“If that’s true...is this some sort of angelic sphere?” Charlie looked around at the incredible shining room, with its crystal walls and crystal terminals.
"It's extremely crystal, isn't it?" said Blanche. "'Crystal' always seems to be THE adjective."
"This is the Factory of...wait for it...Crystal," said Lady Aesc. She dumped the snow imp's sack on a nearby table. "A sack that can steal time? That's going straight in the sanctum."
"It can travel to different dimensions, and shrink and grow to any size," said Jason, trying to be helpful. "The Factory, not the sack. Fun fact: we're tiny right now! But so is the whole Factory, so it doesn't look that impressive."
Charlie moved to the window and looked out at the deep blue horizon. He smiled, not really listening. "Excellent. Wonderful. That sounds...fine. This whole place is filled with wonder...I feel happier than I have since Cromwell banned Christmas.”
“In 1647,” Blanche whispered to Jason. “Since we should try to be mildly educational."
"Just entering the co-ordinates on the card," said Lady Aesc, swiping her fingers across the sharp points inside a geode to type letters and shapes on a screen. "With luck, it'll take us to Lady Frostbite's universe in the Sketch."
"So what exactly are you doing?" asked Charlie.
"We've been recruited to save the twelve days of Christmas," Blanche answered.
"I see. Recruited by whom?"
"Ooh, we love a good 'whom'," said Lady Aesc. "By the Firmament of Festive Cheer. We were having a nice relaxing break on Pastellion Major when they reached out to us."
"They made all the gifts from the ‘twelve days’ song appear, like the five gold rings!" Jason explained.
Lady Aesculapius rolled her eyes. "Obviously those weren't THE five gold rings. I've seen THE five gold rings, when their power was brought together by the five Gingerbread Lords to defeat King Kralltova'ar and his Tinsel Armada. Hold onto your stockings," she said as she reached for the switch.
Charlie reached down and grabbed his stockings.
"Oh, Charlie dear that's just an expression, sorry."
She flipped the switch, the Foce began to spin, and a white circle appeared beneath it. It dropped down, and fell into the Labyrinth below the Dawns, the shining crystal bifrost path winding through it.
"She wasn't kidding. Everything is crystal," Charlie whispered. Jason and Blanche just nodded knowingly.
"Now, we go through to the other side."
Jason looked over at her. "You told me the only thing on the other side of the Labyrinth was chaos."
"That wasn't a lie."
The Foce dove down below the road, far into the darkness.
Eventually they reached some sort of barrier, which the Foce pushed through, and there stood a circular gate. Perhaps it could be called a portal - it looked similar to the white ones the Foce always travelled through, only older, with strange symbols floating in its swirling white.
Inside the Foce, a rectangle appeared in front of Lady Aesc.
"Terms and conditions." She scrolled through it without reading it, and hit the ‘accept’ icon floating in the air. "Alright, here we go. Into the unknown."
The gate opened, and the Foce flew through. On the monitors and out the window, they saw a whirlwind of places, some like notebook sketches. As wireframe figures looked up at them, they passed soldiers in samurai armor fighting space marines under an ocean falling from the sky, then passed into another world where rollerbladers sped down a spiralling crystal ramp towards a dark portal at its center, as a being with a horse skull for a head watched them. They passed through a time machine being grown under a building in Indianapolis, and through a battle of velociraptor cavalry charging toward mechs.
"All of these are rejected worlds?" Jason asked, in awe.
"Yep. None of them were quite right."
"You're saying we could have been riding dinosaurs and that got rejected?"
Aesc sighed. "Yeah that was a bad call."
The negatives increased, until finally the readings stopped.
"We're here! Wherever here is. I really don't know."
Below them was a great battlefield outside a domed city in the middle of a frozen wasteland. Aesc directed the ship in a casual glide to get a good view of the place, then suddenly began scrambling, letting out occasional "Ahhh!!!"s, "Oh no, bad, BAD!"s, and "I completely forgot they made a third Highlander movie..."s.
"I don't really understand all this," Charlie said, "but this isn't good right?"
"It's terrible!" Aesc yelled. "Uh, turns out there are some problems with the laws of physics here."
"What do you mean a problem with the laws of Physics?" Jason shouted. "They're laws, but for physics!"
"And this place was a beta test of some bad ideas about physics! Gravity is a mess here, and so are crystalline energy structures. The Foce is getting sucked dry. I'm going to take us in for a landing..."
The three non-Aesc residents of the room huddled together, grabbing onto things as the walls began to dim.
There was a plop, and the Foce set down, promptly ejecting all four of its travellers onto a snowy field. Aesc picked up the marble-sized Foce. It wasn't glowing.
"So, good news or bad news first?"
"Good?" Jason said.
"Your new haircut looks really nice on you, I know you've had it for a few weeks now but honestly? Keep it. Also, I managed to get Phil to send a message to the Firmament of Festive Cheer, letting him know where the issue is coming from. Okay, the BAD news is the Foce can't generate new power to open a portal out of here so...I don't actually know how we're getting home."
Blanche stood up, and looked around them. "It looks like years of battles happened here. What sort of place is this?"
Around them, the snow rose up. The white blanket grew teeth and legs and arms, and with a great sack it swept them up, one by one, and dragged them towards the dome.

The sack opened up, and they were met by the inquisitive blue and brown lynx eyes of a rather gangely but cute young woman with a snowman beret in her light-blue hair.
"Oh! More people from outside the bubble! Hello!"
"Uh," Lady Aesc said, "are you Lady Frostbite?"
She laughed. "Of course not! I'm Krioka, the lead scientist in charge of snow imp development. Pleased to make your acquaintance!"
"I'd be happier to meet you if I wasn't being held in a sack, but hello!" Aesc replied.
"Have they arrived?" a voice called out, firm and imposing.
The young lady bowed her head. "Yes, Lady Frostbite. The snow imps retrieved them. Some of them are pretty cute!"
There was a scoffing noise, and then the group were dumped out of the sack unceremoniously at the feet of another woman. She had the same shade of light blue hair but done in one long thick braid, and the same shade of blue and brown lynx eyes. There the similarities ended. Her expression showed firm displeasure, her arms were crossed and legs were apart in a power stance. Her white military uniform was perfectly fitted, and gave the impression that the insignias and pins on the breast had all been earned. Surrounding them were dozens of snow imps.
"Tell me," she said, "who are you?"
Aesc popped up. "I'm Lady Aesculapius! Which I hope is easier to spell in this negative universe. You must be Lady Frostbite? I've heard nothing about you except your name and that you're stealing time, but that lends you an air of mystery! Why exactly are you stealing time?"
Frostbite looked over at Jason, "You?"
"Jason Jackson, pilot, newly an interuniversal adventurer."
She nodded. "The armored one."
Blanche looked the woman up and down. "Blanche Combine. I'm a baker and girlscout troop leader."
The woman scowled, then turned to Charlie. She looked at his clothes. "He...he's not even from the same time as you is he?"
"No, but I love picking up strays," said Lady Aesc. "Guest casts are fun!"
Krioka cleared her throat. "Supreme General, Lady Frostbite, I believe we've made a breakthrough on adding the first day to the loop."
"Excellent, but don't disturb me for the moment."
Aesc frowned. "I demand to know why you're stealing Christmas. What do you have against the holiday? It's a cheery time, one for family and friends!"
Frostbite did not change her expression. "You really think it being Christmas meant anything to me at all?" She walked towards the glass wall of the dome and looked out. Great metal striders, spindly legs jerking as they walked, patrolled the perimeter. "The twelve days of Christmas are held together by the power of the five Gingerbread Lords. The days are a concept we could steal, easily, and graft onto our own time. Time is what we want - what we need. There isn't enough."
Charlie squinted. "You can't steal time."
"You can steal time," Jason, Blanche, Aesc, Krioka, Lady Frostbite, and a passing janitor all said in reply.
"I stand corrected."
"But what does puzzle me," Aesc said, "is why you'd need to steal time of all things."
Frostbite furrowed her brows. "To understand that, you need to understand the world. Our world, our people - the Numbered - have been at war with the Infinite for generations. When I ascended to lead us, we were on the cusp of victory but...things fell apart. Our enemies allied against us. We fell back, and fell back, until only this city remained. But our scientists-" (Krioka waved) "-developed a way to save us from death and defeat: we could set up a time loop. A seven day cycle that would repeat over and over, never allowing the moment our city falls to reach us." She gritted her teeth. "But never enough time to change the future."
"Well, there's your first problem. The same loop will just repeat itself over and over with that plan."
"Oh!" Krioka's hand shot up. "After Lady Frostbite threatened to cut both my hands off, I had a great idea. See, we could distribute the energy caused by the time loop happening at its end point, and use that to send the memories of one person back to the start of the loop! So naturally, because I didn't want my hands cut off, our Illustrious Leader has kept her memories of...however many loops this has been now."
"And over that time, I realized there was no way to change our fate, because one week is simply too little time," she grinned. "And then I learned of the outside universes."
Krioka looked down at her feet.
"We tested sending men into those other worlds, but it turns out gravity works differently there, and they died instantly. So Krioka created my new minions," she gestured at the snow imps.
"Doesn't it bother you that you're creating living beings to throw their lives away?" Blanche yelled.
"Huh?" Krioka looked shocked. "No, they're not alive at all. But analyzing them has taught me a lot about gravity outside our bubble..."
Jason nudged Charlie and Blanche, and they leaned in so he could whisper to both of them. "Isn't she telling us a lot of her plan?"
"I am," Lady Frostbite answered. "You weren't really being that quiet. But I have my reasons. Imps, bring the boy to me, leave a guard on the rest."
The imps dragged Charlie away, holding back the others, as Krioka turned her back, trying not to watch.


* * *


Charlie was dropped into a room filled with memories that weren’t his own. Pictures, medals, pieces of junk with some event attached to them he couldn't know, and there in the center of it all, Lady Frostbite.
"Hello there. Charlie is it?"
He rose to his feet, trying to regain his posture. "That is I."
"I separated you because you're not like those three. They were on some ridiculous adventure and dragged you along. That's how it always goes, isn't it?" She ran her hands along a ceramic cylinder on a stand.
"They saved me. They're good people, though I don't know them well."
"Oh is that what they did? Saved you? Look at you, I know exactly what kind of person you are."
He raised his chin. "What kind of person is that?"
"A survivor. I can see it in your eyes. What have you been doing to survive? Hiding in pits? Fleeing from place to place. Maybe you're some sort of deserter, or criminal, or just a victim of misfortune. It doesn't matter. You know what it takes to survive. Like I do."
He looked into her eyes. She held her gaze on him, those firm eyes that seemed to dig into him like screws.
"You're a survivor?"
She reached onto the shelf, then handed him an empty can. "That can you're holding once held the only food I had for a week. I kept it, I don't even know why. I dragged myself through the mud, and learned what put me on another level from the people who stayed crawling in the muck their whole lives."
He looked at the can. The label had peeled off long ago; there was no hint as to what it had contained once. "What was that?"
"I have no time for frivolity, and no qualms with exacting vengeance. I may have pulled a little fib." She allowed herself a smirk, and twirled a strand of her light blue hair on her finger. "I was just a young girl then, when my father was lost fighting the Infinite, and I was left to flee...running from place to place. A Lady with no land, a title with no meaning. And I remember those fools celebrating with their loved ones who I begged from, and even more foolishly they gave me bread. What point is there celebrating the time you have? To be merry isn’t practical. It isn’t useful. And I didn’t survive by having fun. So of course I wanted to take the twelve days of Christmas, because I hate the idea of people outside our bubble having fun. They deserve to suffer, as I suffered."
Charlie set the can down. "I...can't believe that. There has to be more to life than just...surviving.”
"There is. There's focus and power. Join me here, Charlie. You're like me. A survivor. You know what it's like to live without the wastes of entertainment."
Charlie thought back to his home in England. He loved the plays, the theatre...the theaters Cromwell had shut down.
"So then Charlie, what will it be?"


* * *


"Pst, PST, Scientist lady!" Blanche said. "Get over here."
"I'm...working."
Jason cut in. "And I can tell this isn't what you want to be doing. You're a scientist, not some flunky for a dictator who couldn't win a war so much she's lost it who knows how many times, the same way, over and over."
Krioka turned around. "Well...perhaps."
"Not perhaps," Blanche said. "I was a soldier once, Krioka, I can tell one when I see one. No offense but that really isn't you, and that's fine. This isn't where you'll be happy."
Krioka, who had been picking up a partridge and examining it for pear tree remnants set the bird back into its cage. "You're right...but there's no other path."
"Of course there's another path! What's the hardest choice you’ve ever made?"
Krioka laughed. "Easy. Transitioning. My parents didn't accept me and that...hurt a lot."
Jason leapt on it. "So, think about that. In the grand scheme of things, Miss Krioka the crazy smart scientist who is unhappy working for an evil dictator, she's already been brave. Why can't she be brave enough to help three people who could in turn help her get to a world where she wouldn't be repeating the same week over and over for eternity? Where she could be happy the way she dreamed she could be?"
Krioka looked at the snow imps. "Let's say...lets say I want to help you. I can't survive outside of this loop, the gravity in your universes--"
"I can work around that!" Aesc interjected. "No worries. I have a plan."
"Huh. Alright then...when would your escape plan start?"
"As soon as possible."
"Right," said Krioka, looking again at the snow imps. She walked over to the thermostat. "I hope you know what you’re doing."
Lady Aesculapius smirked. "Trust me, my plan is absolutely flawless."


* * *


There was a knock on the door, and Frostbite gestured for Charlie to open it, which he acquiesced to.
A soldier was there, same lynx eyes and light blue hair. "Ma'am, we just caught your prisoners and lead scientist Krioka attempting to escape."
Frostbite glowered. "Krioka? Well well well. I've wasted enough time. Execute them. Immediately. Along with Charlie here, who turned down my very generous offer."


* * *


Aesc blew air up from her bottom lip.
"Are you...trying to move your blindfold?" Blanche asked.
"Maybe."
"You're such a dork," she half laughed half cried.
"Blanche?"
"I'm sorry, I just didn't think we'd be going out this way, on Christmas Eve. Didn't even get to see the real day."
"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have dragged you, Jason, and Charlie here. Or gotten Krioka in this mess."
"You'll be fine though, you'll just get a new body."
"Not here...the rules are different in the Sketch. I don't think I'll come back. Though I won't complain if I'm wrong."
Blanche sniffled. "I love you, Aesc. Merry Christmas."
"I love you too. Merry--"
"Firing squad at the ready!" A voice called. "By the order of Lady Frostbite, you are to be executed."
"Can I have a final word?" Jason asked.
"No," the firing squad leader answered. "Ready your rifles!"
"Blanche?" Jason called out.
"Yeah?"
"I'm real glad we met."
"Me too, Jason."
"Aesc, same deal."
She laughed. "Same deal to you too. Charlie? You've been really brave, and I'm so sorry."
"Oh, it is alright...I suppose I was just running from it this whole time anyway."
"Krioka? Thanks for being brave too and--"
They could hear the sound of jingling bells, followed by clomping hooves.
"What's that?"
There was a massive thud, and the skidding of something to a halt.
"I really wish I could see right now," Krioka noted.
A blast of wintery air blew through and whipped their blindfolds up, revealing the firing squad, and…
"Father Christmas!?" Charlie exclaimed.
"Ho ho ho! The one and only!" called the jolly old man in the red suit. The reindeer pulling his sleigh clomped their hooves in greeting.
"The Firmament of Festive Cheer!" Aesc cried "You got my message!"
"Of course I did! I hear every wish on Christmas!"
The firing squad captain clapped his hands together. "Right, so, shoot them quickly then. Let's not lose our opportunity."
Santa held his hands out. "Wait, hold up there. It's Christmas Eve, and nearly Christmas Day!"
Krioka gasped. "It is?"
"Merry Christmas, Krioka!" Aesc called out.
"Aesc, hold it off, just a little longer. We haven't seen Christmas in hundreds of years here."
"How is--OH. OHHHHH. Hey firing squad guy! Yes you, clappy guy, what do you want for Christmas?"
He scoffed. "You're not going to trick me that easily. Ready! Aim!"
And then, the clock struck midnight, and the time loop reset.


* * *


Lady Aesc, Krioka, Jason, Blanche, and Charlie stood in the middle of a bustling crowd in white uniforms, blue hair going this way and that way. The firing squad captain narrowed his eyes at them. "What are civilians doing in this sector? Get out of here!"
Charlie looked around. "You mean, you're not going to execute us?"
The captain rolled his eyes. "Only if you don't get out of our way! Our analysts think we could lose this war on Christmas morning if we don't get things together, so move!"
Santa laughed. "Why, let's help the man out: all aboard!"
Everyone scrambled onto the sleigh. It looked fairly small, but they found it easily had enough space for six people and the presents of several million children.
"Hey, uh, Santa, why do I still have my memories?" asked Krioka.
"Consider it a present, ho ho ho!"
Aesc slapped her forehead as she pulled Blanche onto her lap to maximize sled space, Blanche not complaining in the slightest. "I almost forgot! Firmament of Festive Cheer! Ask Krioka what she wants for Christmas?" Aesc winked at Krioka.
Krioka's eyes lit up. "Oh, I've really wanted a new wave spectrum--"
Aesc coughed. "Gosh, what would be something really useful if we were about to leave and go to a place with different gravity."
"Oh. Right. Yeah."
Santa turned to her. "What do you want for Christmas young lady?"
Krioka squinted. "...To survive outside the Sketch?"
"Ho ho ho! Your wish is granted!"
Blanche blinked. "But how, there's an inherent molecular incompatibility for them that--"
"It's a Christmas miracle!" gasped Lady Aesc.
"But the way gravity works in our universe, won't her molecules--"
"Christmas. Miracle." Lady Aesc narrowed her eyes.
"C'mon Blanche," Charlie smiled. "The spirits can do anything at Christmas!"
"Ah yes. Of course they can..." she mumbled.
"Of course we can! Ho ho ho! Now, on Dasher and Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen! On Comet and Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen!”
Jason and Blanche broke into harmony: “But do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all?”
Santa smirked. "Punch it, Rudolph!”
The reindeer put their heads down and made a noise like an engine charging. Falling white specks of snow blurred back into lines and the sleigh blasted into hyperspace, leaving Lady Frostbite’s world far behind.
The brilliant tunnel of light flickered across Charlie's eyes. He leaned over the edge of the sleigh to check there were no strings. Everything was a stream of white and blue, with occasional silver and gold streaks that looked like the light catching on tinsel. Santa watched the kaleidoscope of colour for a while, then instinctually tugged on the reins.
The reindeer slowed and the sleigh dropped out of lightspeed with a sound like distant thunder. The white streaks of light became falling snowflakes again. Charlie was still hanging over the side, but now he could see a white ground covered in green fir trees.
Lady Aesculapius sat with a big smile on her face as they slowly drifted down to land. Krioka sat up when she saw where they were going: a large cabin in the middle of a clearing, with smoke pluming from its chimney and warm golden light emanating from its windows. The roof had a halo of green and red lights.
Jason turned to the others. "Where..."
"...Are we?" asked Blanche, an eyebrow raised. "Is that your question? Do they really need to put a sign up?"
"We literally have a sign up," said Santa, pointing.
The reindeer's hooves made contact with the snow and the sleigh softly touched down. They drifted for a few extra meters, passing by a wooden sign announcing 'Santa's Grotto'.
They came to a gentle stop and Santa stood up. "Well, here we are!"
They all gave the reindeer pets of gratitude before heading inside. The cabin was warm and inviting, and fully decorated for Christmas. Or maybe Santa's grotto was always like this, Blanche wondered. Chestnuts were roasting on an open fire, and a large colourful tree sat in the corner of the room.
"Please, help yourselves," said Santa, gesturing to a box full of Coca Cola bottles.
Jason picked one up. "Thank you. Didn't think Santa drank Coke..."
The jolly old man lowered himself into an armchair. "I don't to be honest, but they keep sending me boxes of the stuff for being in the adverts."
"I've always wondered about that," said Lady Aesc. "How did you get the Coke gig?"
"Oh, long story. You go to parties, you meet people." Santa gestured as he trailed off. "Interesting thing is, I was actually the second choice for the job. They wanted the Easter Bunny but then he ended up with Duracell."
Jason shook his head. "What is it with cute animals and capitalism on these adventures? I could write a thesis..."
Santa noticed Charlie examining photos of reindeer on the mantle. There were more reindeer in the photos than there were on the sleigh outside. "How many flying reindeer are there?" asked Charlie.
Lady Aesc answered. "Originally there were eight, then Rudolph was introduced, like the sixth Bionicle. There were ten others in 1902 - Flossie and Glossie, Racer and Pacer, Fearless and Peerless, Ready and Steady, and Feckless and Speckless - but they're part of Legends continuity now."
"Lady Aesculapius, I'm shocked," said Santa. "It's quite taboo to give anyone foreknowledge, let alone someone as important as Charles II."
Lady Aesc was quiet. "What?"
"Charles II," Santa repeated. "You're giving him knowledge of events in 1902."
"Am I?" Lady Aesc paused. She shut her eyes tightly, then rotated her body so she was facing Charlie, then opened them. "Are you Charles II?"
Charlie looked at her innocently. "Possibly."
"Oh, POSSIBLY," said Blanche, flapping her arms. "Who among us doesn't have moments where they kinda feel like royalty?"
"I have those," said Jason. "The 20 minutes after getting this haircut."
Santa leaned back in his armchair, absorbing the scene. "How does a person travel through time and space with Charles II and not know?"
"I wasn't travelling with him, he's not a companion!" said Lady Aesc. "Just a single-adventure support character!"
"Well never mind," said Santa. He turned to Charlie. "Listen my dear boy, what do you want for Christmas?"
Charlie thought about it. "I don't know. I haven't had Christmas in years, ever since it was outlawed by parliament. So I suppose...I just want to have it. The day, I mean."
Santa smiled. "Well I can certainly do that."
"Oh, you're back!" A welcoming voice was heard down the corridor and soon after a woman emerged in a similar red outfit to Santa, with reading glasses perched on her nose and her white hair up in a bun. "Hello dearies!"
"Everyone, this is my wife," said Santa.
"Nice to meet you Mrs Claus!" said Lady Aesc cheerfully. "I've always wondered, what is your first name?"
The kind old woman reacted like she'd just been asked to solve a complex equation. "Well my dear, there are many different interpretations..."
"...Of your own name?" asked Krioka, an eyebrow raised.
"Are you a Firmament too, or a human?" asked Blanche.
"And how do reindeer fly?" Charlie added.
Mr and Mrs Claus let out a hearty chuckle. "Ho ho ho!" said Santa. "So many questions, so little time! Come, let us celebrate a Merry Christmas together!"
Mrs Claus laughed joyously, then leaned in to her husband. "Good save."


Lady Aesculapius, Blanche, Jason, Charlie, Krioka, Santa, and Mrs Claus spent the afternoon eating fine food, swapping stories, and telling jokes. Terrible, terrible jokes from crackers, that relied on wordplay Charles II didn't get. He told them all stories about his adventures escaping England, and why he was on the run in the first place. Lady Aesc compared notes with him about how hard it is to effectively hide up an oak tree. Together they ate the most delicious turkey with gravy and stuffing and vegetables piled high. Santa gave them all presents - toy trains and teddy bears and a Lynx Africa set and a thing called an Apple Watch that one of the elves had made and wouldn't shut up about owning. But mostly they just enjoyed each other's company. Charlie smiled. They might be able to ban Christmas parties and festivals and gatherings, but there was no way anyone could steal the time spent with family and friends.


Santa waved them off and bowed slightly, a twinkle in his eye, as he closed the door to his grotto. Lady Aesc turned to Charlie. "Well. It's probably time we sent you back to where you were."
"Exactly where I was?" asked Charlie.
Lady Aesc nodded. "Afraid so. I can't mess around with history. Not one line."
Jason frowned. "But all we do is mess around with history! Surely to a time traveller, everything is history! Remember all the clocks in the clock room? Time is relative, there’s no such thing as 'the present', you absolutely can rewrite time if-"
Lady Aesc placed a finger over his lips. "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." From the pocket of her grey tweed coat she pulled out a small music player with headphones. She slipped the headphones onto Jason's ears, handed him the music player, and moved his thumb over the play button, which was already set to play It's Five O'Clock Somewhere by Alan Jackson feat. Jimmy Buffett. She turned back to Charles II. "Anyway, time to go."
Charlie looked down, then nodded. "I understand. Thank you. All of you." He smiled at Jason and Blanche. "I've missed a good Christmas party, you know."
Lady Aesc looked at the grotto to see if Santa and Mrs Claus were still watching. They weren't. "Between the two of us," she said. "I know it'll be Christmas again one day."


Christmas Day - 1660


There was an energy in the streets that had been absent for a long time. Homes were decorated with boughs of holly and ivy. People ate mince pies and plum porridge and brawn. Businesses were being allowed to close so the workers could rest and spend time with their families.
Christmas had returned.
The king looked out the window. The palace behind him was overflowing with guests, drinking wine and eating the best food in the kingdom. He smiled. To think, once upon a time the act of eating well in December was seen as a crime.
A group of guards approached. "Your highness, there are visitors here to see you. They claim to know you personally."
Charles II turned and raised an eyebrow. "Really? Send them in."
The guards parted. "Well if it isn't Charles Episode II: Attack of the Clones!"
"Lady Askupilus!"
"After nine years, that's impressively close!" She bounded up to him and shook his hand.
Jason and Blanche followed, each greeting the king with a handshake and a small bow. "So," said Jason. "How were the 1650s?"
Charles II shrugged. "Overall, a bit hit or miss. But you were right, my lady: Christmas DID return!"
"I did indeed call it. Again, well remembered," said Lady Aesc. "Speaking of things being remembered, hope you don't mind, I've invited a few friends. They'll blend right in to the whole 1660 vibe, very inconspicuous."
Charles II looked over Lady Aesc's shoulder. Mingling with the lords and ladies of the king's court were a crew of Centro officers. Nagi Hikawa, Mia Santos, Cassie Richards, and their captain Jessica Zhane all looked fairly bewildered to be there and were attracting some attention. About as much attention as the gold woman in the corner, Professor Ko, although she was having far too much fun to notice. She swapped dimension-hopping stories with Graelyn and Arch, and shared sympathetic words with Krioka about what it’s like to invent things for evil people who control universes.
Sitting at a nearby table, enjoying some mince pies, Aria and Dory laughed and sang with Gabriele and Ezra. Everyone at the party gave their compliments to the baker of the pies, Virginia Stems-6, who was proud to be sharing her talents with so many new friends, including Nemesis (a lovely person with a sinister name) and Steve (a sinister person with a lovely name).
Dayani Mohan and her daughter Panna pulled an anachronistic Christmas cracker, having filled their days with joy and each other since being reunited. Alice McLeod, the chosen one and former leader of the C.O.O.L. Revolution told Panna new stories about young teenage heroes overcoming perilous odds. It started off as a trilogy but the final story ended up being split into two parts.
Lady Aesculapius looked at her friends and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Charlie."
Charles II smiled. "Merry Christmas, Lady Ask."
"Close enough."

It's been real fun bringing you this whole series of Lady Aesc adventures, and we hope you'll tell your pals about them now that they can be read straight through. None of this would have been possible without all the writers, artists, voice actors, and editors who gave so much of their time and talent to bring these tales to life--and we're sending crystalline thank you's out through the ether as we speak.

Oh, and Lady Aesc will be back for Series 2, along with her friends Jason and Blanche. Just give her some time; her, her friends, and the creators are all going to relax for a little bit. But rest assured, the journey won't end here.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, spend some time with the people you love.

Cheers-

Michael and James










Lady Aesculapius Series 1 is part of 10,000 Dawns, and is a publication of Arcbeatle Press.
Lady Aesculapius was created by James Wylder.
All original elements to this story are the property of the author.
All rights Reserved, Arcbeatle Press 2019.
Our cover art is by Anne-Laure Tuduri.

Any resemblance between persons living or dead, fictional characters, and real or fictional events is either co-incidental or has been done within the bounds of parody and/or satire.

You can learn more about 10,000 Dawns at http://www.jameswylder.com/10000-dawns1.html

The black staff boomed against the floor.
The hall fell silent.
The High Priest looked around the cavernous circular room at the assembled powers of the Kezarian people; the sea of shining golden skin and cool violet eyes, watching and waiting.
He lowered himself back into his throne. He looked to his right and to his left to consult the man and woman sitting next to him, and was given two nods. Then, with his gaze fixed on the tall double doors at the far end of the hall, he spoke: "Bring her forward."
There was a clunk and the heavy doors swung open.
Everyone waited for something to happen. A small squeaking noise was getting closer. Into the chamber came a young woman in a lab coat, her wild curly hair done up in a messy bun. The squeak was coming from the one wonky wheel on the table she was dragging, upon which sat some sort of machine. She moved agonisingly slowly into the center of the room, then finally stopped and turned. "So!" She clapped her golden hands together with a smile on her face. "Here we all are then, nice to see you, nice to see you, I'm Professor Ko. Let me tell ya, getting from the middle of Janterdon to the High Council chamber along the omega lightway, middle of rush hour? Nightmare, am I right?"
Silence. One of the Cardinals coughed.
She laughed and made an 'oh, you' hand motion. "Y'all know it. So, anyway! Welcome, great to be here, great to be here. Today, I've got a little invention to demo for you, something I whipped up in the lab, thought you might be interested. This," she gestured to the machine behind her, "is a little gizmo we boffins like to call...the Multiverse Window!" She gave a brief pause for that to land, then gave a little jazz hands and an "Ooooooooh!" to help build hype. "This thing, this thing, this right here? Allows you to view parallel universes!"
She held for applause.
The silence slowly lifted into a hum of confusion.
"Right, so, here's how it works, now look at this." The scientist stood over her machine. "You have a screen here and controls here. You just fiddle with the controls to tune into another universe, and the screen becomes a window into it. For example, right now I'm looking from our very own universe, home sweet home, into another universe twelve realities diagonally up, and...it's a world where my jokes are actually funny!" She let out a long, wheezing laugh and slapped her knee as she silently doubled over. Nobody joined in.


Cardinal Ley coughed and spluttered into his handkerchief.
"Something the matter?" asked the High Priest, impatiently.
"Not at all, please proceed." As many council members as could fit had piled into the lab where Professor Ko had connected the Multiverse Window to a larger screen.
The High Priest nodded. "Fire up the crystals, Cardinal."
Cardinal Ley flipped the switch. The larger screen fizzed and turned into a view of space with tiny stars dotting the canvas. There was a polite round of applause for what was in theory an image from another universe, but could have easily been a view of their own night sky.
"Now, let me just input some co-ordinates," said Professor Ko. The image fizzed again and turned into an overhead view of the omega lightway between Janterdon and the High Council chamber. "Now look at this, everyone! Look here! This is an alternate universe. You can tell from this, here, see where the omega lightway has been given a secondary lane to ease congestion? Not as bad as it is in our universe, huh?" She gave an open-mouthed smile.
Cardinal Ley considered the image on the screen. "You know, we could really use this. If we viewed this road in a hundred different realities, we could work out which design would be best for our own road."
The lightbulbs went off for all the council members. The High Priest nodded. "A sound idea. Well done, Professor Ko. It seems this has real applications."


The door slid open and Professor Ko entered the High Priest's office with a beaker of blue liquid. "Ah, Cardinal, I thought I'd find you here! Here you go," she said, passing the beaker to Cardinal Ley who sat opposite the High Priest. "This'll fix your asthma, permanently. Picked up the formula from a universe where we'd already cured it."
Ley sniffed the blue medical liquid, then downed it. It was like his lung capacity doubled. "Oh, that's marvelous! Thank you Professor. Your machine has changed history, you know that?"
"I just can't believe it," said the High Priest, reclining in his new chair that tilted back slightly to ease the tension in his spine. "In the last two years, crime rates have plummeted, diseases have been cured, the traffic is better...and soon we won't even need traffic once your mass teleportation technology has been successfully copied from universes that already have it."
Cardinal Ley nodded. "What you've accomplished with your machine, Ko, will be remembered for-"
A siren wailed. Red light flooded the office.
Professor Ko pushed a button on her watch. "Stax, what is it?"
"I don't know," said the shaky voice at the other end. "Something's entered this universe. From...outside."
Everyone in the office exchanged a glance.
The council quickly assembled in Professor Ko's laboratory, awaiting an explanation as the sirens kept wailing. "So from what I can tell, it seems, it's looking like," said Ko, "Three life forms entered our universe a few hours ago. Two of them are currently floating through space on top of the third like it's a ship. The ship is big," she said, reading numbers on a screen. "Big, big ship, made of some sort of living crystal. And this big crystal ship is scanning us. This planet. Best case scenario, some friends have arrived from another universe to say hello!" she said, an excited smile on her face.
"What's the worst case scenario?" asked the High Priest.
He was answered by murmurs from the council.
"A threat!"
"A warning!"
"A declaration of war!"
"Now, now, steady everyone, steady everyone" said Professor Ko. "We don't know if it's anything that serious. Now I would recommend...what would I recommend? Reaching out to these life forms, these mysterious people. Find out their intentions."
The High Priest considered the situation gravely. "We haven't had a war in years. Not since the Multiverse Window let us see into war-torn universes so we knew how to avoid becoming them. Now it seems these other universes are the only thing capable of bringing conflict to us."
Professor Ko laughed nervously. "I mean, what're you gonna do? End all other universes except this one?"


"Reality 5862 - 68/7 - Pod - Beetroot/50 has been successfully ended."
"Excellent," said the High Priest. "Another successful test."
"Though we believe some life forms managed to escape the destruction in...cross-dimensional escape pods," said Stax.
"It doesn't matter," said the High Priest. "Soon our strange new friend will deliver the weapon she's promised, and we can unleash the final blow, ending all universes at once. Tell me, when will that be?"
"As soon as Professor Ko finishes the universal shield."
The High Priest leaned back in his comfortable chair with a smile on his face. "Once it's done, nothing will threaten the safety of our universe. Nothing. Truly, this is the Utopia Dimension."

​The blast of cosmic umami surprised Lady Aesculapius. Blanche's buttercream frosting was delightful, and it briefly brought Jason back to his 7th birthday party, blowing out the candles and cramming a piece in his mouth before his parents could tell him to slow down. Then the flavour brought all three of them to another universe.
Their feet reached solid ground. Lady Aesculapius licked her fingers clean. "Now that's what I call a good bake." The three had materialised in some sort of alleyway.
"Oh! Hey there!" Jason waved to a stunned and stunning golden man with wide violet eyes.
"Can I just ask," said Blanche, approaching the terrified man. "What did that look like to you?"
The man stared. "You all sort of just...appeared in an explosion of frosting."
"Ooh! That's fun," said Lady Aesc. "What's your name?"
"Jaxill."
"Good name. Take me to your leader!"
Jaxill blinked. "You mean like...my employer?"
"No," said Blanche. "More like your head of state."
Jaxill blinked again. He turned away and wondered how much of his time he was willing to dedicate to frosting-centric aliens today. He turned back and nodded. "Follow me I guess."
Lady Aesc, Jason, and Blanche trailed behind Jaxill as they emerged from the alleyway into a bustling street. The people all wore bright colours and gave friendly smiles to one another as they passed.
"The Utopia Dimension," said Lady Aesculapius. "At last."
"Everyone here seems nice," said Jason.
"They're all gold," said Blanche.
"They're all hot," said Lady Aesc.
Jason looked around, sceptical. "I'll have to take your word on that last one."
"Hey, so what were you doing in that alley, anyway?" Blanche asked Jaxill.
"Shortcut. Just on my way back from my boyfriend's house. See that up there?"
The three followed his pointing finger up to a large round building on a hill in the distance.
"Is that where your leader lives?" asked Lady Aesc.
"I guess. I mean, I didn't vote for them, but yeah." They all had to lean forward slightly as they forced themselves up the steep hill. At the other side of the road, those who couldn't climb moved up the hill on a chair attached to a rail. "What do you want to see my leader about?"
"We want to stop them from destroying other universes," said Blanche.
"Cool," said Jaxill. "Can I help?"
"You are helping," smiled Lady Aesc.
They reached the top of the hill and took in the magnificent building in front of them. There was a lovely water feature outside and a small landing pad with docked ships.
"So," said Jason. "How are we getting in?"
"Front door," said Jaxill, pointing. "The chamber's open right now for people to address the council."
Lady Aesculapius looked across the courtyard and saw a small queue of people. "Ah! Right-o."
Blanche frowned as they all took a number and joined the back of the queue. "This feels like it should be more of a 'storm the place and cause a scene' sort of situation, doesn't it?"
"Well I need to take a moment and work off the cosmic cake," said Jason. "Thanks for your help, Jaxill."
"Oh I want to stay and see how this goes," said the gold man, hands in pockets. "I'm invested in the drama now."
Patiently they waited and shuffled a few steps forward every now and then as two guards ushered the next concerned citizen into the chamber. As they moved inside, Lady Aesc was in awe of the opulent hall with its high ceiling and walls covered in paintings. Eventually, it was their turn. Jaxill waited outside the chamber as the guards gestured for Lady Aesculapius, Blanche, and Jason to proceed.
The large circular room was filled with row upon row of officials, murmuring away as the three travellers took their position in front of the High Priest. He slammed his black staff against the floor like a gavel and smiled warmly. "Welcome! What is the nature of your business?"
Lady Aesculapius stepped forward and cleared her throat. "My name is Lady Aesculapius. We're here from another universe to tell you to stop destroying other universes."
An explosion of noise and exclamations from the council, then silence. The High Priest leaned forward, still smiling. "Another universe, you say? Do you have any proof?"
Lady Aesc held up her Factory of Crystal. The crystal ball started to glow and a portal opened. Loud protests echoed around the chamber as everyone watched the fabric of reality rip open. Then, through that tear came what looked to those in the back row like a small blue hairbrush. Then the hairbrush started to move, and it became clear that it was a hedgehog. The tiny blue creature sniffed around the room, occasionally making a small hop with all four legs accompanied by a disproportionately loud 16-bit spring sound.
"So anyway," said Lady Aesc, bringing the attention back to her. "Stop destroying universes. I was there when you destroyed 5862 - 68/7 - Pod - Beetroot/50. As long as I'm here, you'll never harm another."
The blue hedgehog made another Sega Genesis sound as it explored the circular parameters of Gold High Council Zone. A small confused fox, almost like the ones Jason remembered from Earth, flew through the still-open portal using its two tails as propellers.
"She has a crystal device, just like the other one," the woman next to the High Priest urgently whispered at a volume everyone could hear anyway.
The High Priest frowned. "Lock. Them. Up."


"That went well," said Blanche, leaning against the cell wall. "I feel really good about that."
"It was worth a try," said Lady Aesculapius. "Maybe I should've just gone straight to 'tearing this universe apart with my bare hands'. They have already destroyed at least one entire universe so looking back on it that sort of 0 to 100 behaviour would've been justified."
"Here's what I don't get though," said Jason. He waited until the guard had passed by and disappeared around the corner before saying what he didn't get. "Why are we in this cell?" He gestured widely to the admittedly luxurious prison cell with three soft beds, a sink, a mirror, and a selection of novels. "Why can't we just Factory of Crystal out of here?"
Lady Aesc smiled. "Because of her." She nodded at the cell opposite them to the gold woman with wild curly hair done up in a messy bun.
"And who's she?" asked Blanche.
"An enemy of the people, obviously," said Lady Aesc. "This planet is run by a council that takes questions from a public who clearly know about the whole 'destroying other universes' thing, based on Jaxill's reaction. So: very good PR team, who tell the people that there really are threats out there. The council must do something with the people who question them, and there she is." Lady Aesc stood up from her bed and called over to the woman in the cell opposite. "Hey! Psst!"
Professor Ko looked up at the stranger. "Yes?"
"Are you in here for trying to stop them destroying universes?"
She frowned. Then she sighed. "Yes."
Lady Aesc took out her Factory of Crystal, stepped through a portal in her cell and out of a portal in the other. "I'm Lady Aesc, those two over there are Blanche and Jason, and we're all from another reality. What's your name?"
"Professor Ko," she said, excitement spreading across her face. "I'm a scientist, you see. I built a machine, the Multiverse Window, that lets people view other realities, and the council decided those realities need to be wiped out. But I can help!"
"Excellent, do tell."
"So different universes are being created all the time, based on every decision we make, every fork in the road. They're infinite!" said Professor Ko quickly, aware that the guards could come back at any moment. "You can't just go to each universe and end them all one at a time, it'd take too long. What happened to 5862 - 68/7 - Pod - Beetroot/50 and universes like it was a test. Now they've got this weird new scientist helping them build a weapon that can end all realities at once."
"How?" asked Lady Aesc. "If they did that, what's to stop this universe being wiped out too?"
"A shield I designed," Ko explained. "It has the power to section off universes from the wider multiverse, protecting the Utopia Dimension from their own weapon. If we lower the shield, they won't be able to use the weapon without destroying themselves."
"Well, now we have a plan. Off we go!"
"Exciting! Oh, I almost forgot I'm still in jail."
"Oh, right, cart ahead of the llama," Aesc said and opened a portal so they could hop back into the cell with Jason and Blanche.
With everyone together, the Factory of Crystal expanded and collapsed in an instant, transporting Lady Aesc, Blanche, Jason, and Professor Ko onboard.
Ko silently took in the beautiful crystal room. "You have one of these ships too? Just like that other woman?"
"What other woman?" asked Blanche.
"The other woman, who's helping the council."
"A shield that powerful would need an origin point," said Lady Aesc interrupting. "Where would that be?"
"There's a planet on the edge of the system called Jasek Senn," said the professor. "Big red one, lovely rings, can't miss it. It's where the council keep everything they don't want the public interfering with."
Lady Aesc ran her fingers across the crystal controls. "Excellent. That's where we'll be going. But first..."
Jason wandered over. "First?"
"First," Lady Aesc repeated. "I need to find something..."


A portal snapped open and lightly scattered the red dust below it. Lady Aesculapius, Blanche, Jason, and Professor Ko stepped though. "You realise Jaxill is probably still waiting for us," said Jason.
"Oh, yeah," said Blanche. "I'm sure he's gone home by now."
Across the sand was a large facility with radar dishes on the roof. "Professor," said Lady Aesc, turning to Ko. "Could you get us in there?"
"We could always just portal into there, too," said Blanche.
"They'd find us and lock us up again," said Lady Aesc. "We can't examine the shield and make our demands while running. Passing ourselves off as staff will be easier."
Professor Ko hesitated. "Well, let's think. I was arrested in secret. We might be able to walk in the front door, but if anyone knows I'm supposed to be in prison, I'll be sent back there immediately."
The four approached the facility's entrance and were stopped by the first hurdle. "Damn," said Ko. "I don't have my passcard. The entrance to this facility has one of the most advanced security systems in the multiverse!"
"Excuse me."
They turned to see an older gold man awkwardly trying to push his way through them. They let him pass and he swiped himself in, then held the door open for Ko with a smile. Ko took it, said "thank you", and made a face that suppressed an internal scream to the others as she let them all inside.
This facility served many functions, but looking nice was not one of them. The drab corridors with exposed pipes running overhead gave the vibe that this place was not inviting by design. Like the anti-décor was designed to drive away members of the public by making them feel they were seeing the building in an indecent state.
Every time someone passed by them was a new adventure in nerves. They all hoped nobody would stop Professor Ko because she should be in prison, but of course all of them did stop her, because they hadn't seen her in weeks, because she should be in prison. By keeping a decent pace, they were able to follow the gold man who kindly waited to hold each top security door open for them.
Eventually they started seeing less and less people and the man turned off down a different path. Ko led the group down flights of stairs taking them deeper and deeper underground. At the end of a long corridor they came to a large metal door, which Ko needed all of her strength to push open.
Inside, down one more short flight of stairs, was a huge open space filled with machines.
"What is all this stuff?" asked Jason.
"Oh, this here? This is everything," said Ko. "Technology we've copied over from other dimensions. We've got machines here that can turn anything into food, we've got the multiverse's most powerful mass teleportation engine, everything."
In the middle of it all sat a blue pyramid that pulsed and crackled with energy. It looked so tall and heavy that it would take several strong people to move.
Lady Aesc approached the pyramid. "I assume this is the universal shield?"
"Yep, that's it there," said Ko. "So what exactly is your plan?"
"Simple," said Lady Aesc, marching over to a computer console. "Gonna call up your bosses and threaten to turn the shield off."
Ko blinked. "But wait a moment, hold on, how is that a threat? All you'll do is delay them firing the weapon. They'll just lock us up and turn it back on again."
Lady Aesc smiled. "Ah, but there's something you've forgotten. And I have a feeling they've forgotten about it too. We're dealing with alternate universes here."
The screen crackled and became a furious image of the High Priest. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Hey big man, us again! We're not going to stand for you destroying every other universe, so we're gonna switch off your big shield thing. If you use your weapon now you'll destroy yourself too."
"Fine! Do it!" said the High Priest. "We'll hold our fire and turn the shield back on after we've arrested you."
"Ah! See, that's what YOU just said," said Lady Aesc, gesturing to Professor Ko. "I can't believe you two would miss the obvious."
The High Priest paused. "What do you mean?"
"A universal shield keeps out more than just you. If we switch this baby off, this universe will re-join the larger multiverse and be vulnerable to ANY attack."
"But we are the only universe capable of such destruction!"
"Nope! No you aren't. Because every decision you make creates an alternative reality. Universes are splintered off into almosts and maybes and could've beens and should've beens every moment of every second. So if YOU have the technology to wipe out the multiverse, then other universes similar enough to this one have that technology too."
The High Priest was silent, finally getting it.
"I did a quick scan back on my Factory. Hypothetically, somewhere out there right now is a universe just like this one, with a weapon getting ready to fire and take down every universe except theirs. Well, I found it."
"And? Which universe?"
Lady Aesculapius smiled. "I'm not telling. If I gave you the designation you'd send them one of your universe enders."
The High Priest was getting impatient. "How can you be sure the Utopia Dimension won't be spared?"
"Were YOU planning on sparing any universes? As far as they're concerned, this universe is a threat. Because it is."
The High Priest clenched his jaw. "All you have done is confirmed our suspicions. Other universes ARE dangerous. They DO need to be ended! Thank you, Lady Aesculapius. We will accelerate our plans and end the multiverse immediately. Our guards will be with you shortly."
The screen switched off.
"Good job, nice one," said Professor Ko, pacing.
"Thank you. Now for the fun bit." Lady Aesculapius held up her Factory of Crystal and brought herself, Jason, Blanche, Professor Ko, and the glowing pyramid onboard.


Professor Ko landed alongside the others in the control tower, where Lady Aesc was already plugging the shield generator into one of the crystal terminals.
"With this shield," she said, "boosted with the power from the Factory, we can isolate the Utopia Dimension and this other evil universe I found. For clarity let's call the other one..." she paused "...the Schmutopia Dimension. Once I do this, if either of them trigger their weapons, only the Utopia and Schmutopia Dimensions will end. Every other reality will be just fine."
"But what about the people?" asked Jason. "That's still two universes full of innocent beings."
"Innocent beings who want to kill each other," said Blanche.
"Their councils want to kill each other," said Jason. "But not the Jaxills. Not the ordinary people on the street. It's like what happened with universe...uh... 5862...67...?"
"5862 - 68/7 - Pod - Beetroot/50," Lady Aesc, Blanche, and Ko all reeled off in unison.
"Yeah, that one," said Jason. "We can't allow innocent people to die."
"No we can't," said Lady Aesc. "There." She stepped back from the terminal, admiring her handiwork. "The two dangerous universes are cut off from the others." The glowing pyramid pulsed slowly, holding stable as energy from the Factory flowed into it. "Final step of the plan: swoop in and destroy both weapons. Simple." With a press of a button she opened a portal.


Lady Aesculapius' head popped around the corner, followed by Jason's, followed by Blanche's, followed by Ko's. The council was in session, responding to the threat the four of them were posing to their scheme right now. Everyone being drawn into the main chamber meant they could sneak through the corridors in peace to look for the weapon.
"Lady Aesculapius."
They jumped and turned towards the two cloaked figures behind them, who definitely weren't there a moment ago. Lady Aesc instinctively moved in front of the others. "How can I help?"
"This is no place for you." With an unnecessary flourish, they removed their hoods to reveal a woman with a head of curly ginger hair and young girl.
Lady Aesculapius rolled her eyes. "Professor Meistras and Ofelia. You shouldn't be here either."
"Those two...they're the ones from your funeral?" asked Jason.
Professor Ko looked around. "What do you mean 'her funeral'?"
"Nice teleport," said Lady Aesc. "Quicker than a Factory of Crystal."
"More accurate too," Professor Meistras smiled. "It's amazing what technology a perfect universe can create when they're not occupied fighting one another in wars."
"Why are you helping them?"
"Stumbled into this universe a while ago," said the Professor. "They offered me anything in return for my help."
"'Help' like trying to kill Lady Aesc with a mysterious parcel for snooping," said Jason.
"Ooh, we all love a good call-back, don't we ladies?" Ofelia deadpanned.
"Do you know where the council are right now?" asked Lady Aesc. "To be clear, I do know, I'm just testing you."
Professor Meistras smirked. "Go on then."
"They're in session, organising the immediate firing of their weapon. I reminded them of the possibility that a near mirror parallel universe could be about to fire theirs, and the High Priest panicked. Didn't any of your new friends tell you?"
"I'm sure they will," Meistras monotoned.
"Really? Or is it possible that, like you, they're only in this for their own personal gain?"
"Why would they turn against me?"
"You know why. Because you're a threat from another universe. You're the sort of thing this multiverse-ending scheme was designed to prevent."
Professor Meistras pressed a button on a wrist-mounted communicator, waited, and got no response.
"We're going to sabotage both universes' weapons," said Lady Aesc. "Wanna come watch?"
Meistras considered this offer. "Ofelia, where did they move the weapon?"
Ofelia pulled a small silver device with a screen out of her pocket and pushed some buttons. "Massive energy signature below us. It's in the basement."
"Of course," said Blanche. "Do these people keep any super-secret technology on ground level?"
Lady Aesc lifted her Foce and opened a portal. "That leads to the Schmutopia Dimension. Jason and Blanche, you two go through there and destroy their weapon too."
"Ofelia, go with them to make sure they find it," said Professor Meistras.
Ofelia sighed. "I can't believe we're helping them."
"We can blow up the multiverse later if we want to, okay?" said Meistras, reassuringly.
Ofelia sulked. "Fine. I guess. Let's go, morons."
The girl walked into the portal and Jason and Blanche rushed after her.


At first it was like they hadn't gone anywhere. Ofelia, Jason, and Blanche were standing in an otherwise empty corridor in the middle of the High Council building, with a high curved ceiling and artwork covering the walls.
Slowly, they noticed things that weren't there before, like how the gold detailing on the roof was now silver, and the portraits now showed a completely different roster of historical figures, presumably from a completely different history.
"So the Schmutopia Dimension is the same as the Utopia Dimension but...different," said Jason.
"You could say the same about literally any two places," said Ofelia, rolling her eyes.
"Go on then, where's the weapon here?"
Blanche stared at her device for a few seconds. "Above us...in orbit."
Blanche and Jason looked at each other. Jason smiled. "I seem to remember some ships docked outside."
"You might not get up there in time," said Ofelia. "Someone needs to delay it firing."
"I'll go," said Blanche. "High Council chamber's this way, right? Assuming this universe is similar enough to the other one."
Ofelia handed the scanner to Jason, then turned to Blanche. "I guess I'm coming with you then."
Blanche and Ofelia ran off towards the council chamber as Jason headed outside.
He ran across the courtyard towards the landing pad, which despite a few small differences, was exactly like the one in the Utopia Dimension. On the landing pad was a small one-person ship; the kind Jason had trained with for years. With one fluid motion he jumped into the cockpit, strapped himself in, and ignited the engines.
He felt the rush of adrenaline as the small craft lifted up and blasted off into the sky. The cries of three angry guards were quickly left behind.
Meanwhile, Blanche and Ofelia crashed through the doors of the council chamber. This High Council looked exactly like the one in the Utopia Dimension, except the small blue hedgehog and two-tailed fox had been replaced by a small black and red hedgehog and a pink bat.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?!" The High Priest stood up and banged her white metal staff on the floor. "Who are you?"
Blanche opened her mouth. She paused. "We're two concerned citizens who want you to consider sparing the multiverse."
"And why the hell should we listen to you?" asked the High Priest.
Ofelia snorted. "Because we'll melt you if you don't?"
"Ofelia." Blanche shot her a look that told her to stand down. She knew going in all-guns-blazing would just make them fire the weapon instantly. This situation needed diplomacy. "I'm sorry about her. You don't need to listen to us, but we believe other universes deserve to exist, because they contain as much good and as much evil as ours. After all, everything good about this universe was copied in from others using the Multiverse Window. Killing them all just doesn't seem fair."
There was a murmur from the council.
The High Priest fumed at Blanche's words. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Our world is perfect, superior to all others. These other universes can be nothing but a threat to our magnificent perfection!"
The council erupted in cheers.
"With respect, I don't believe that," said Blanche. "I believe there's still a lot we can learn from others. And I believe that good can come from anywhere."


Far above the chamber, on the edge of space, Jason looked ahead at the field of stars in front of him. If he focused on just one of them, he could feel his speed as the others appeared to blur around it. Far in the distance, he could make out a glowing green orb: the Schmutopia Dimension's doomsday weapon.
A red laser tore past his ear.
Jason looked down at the ship's monitor and saw three enemy fighters coming in behind him. He smirked, and barrel-rolled to avoid their blasts. The ship behind stopped firing immediately to avoid hitting the weapon.
He kept turning, always just outside of his pursuer's crosshairs, before spinning out the other way to dodge the other two coming around.
For a moment, the way ahead was clear. Jason aimed at the orb and squeezed the triggers.
Two bolts of plasma ripped across space. He pulled up sharply, turning back towards the planet as he watched the weapon in the rear monitor.
BOOM.


On the ground, the High Priest smiled. "Your concern is touching. Truly. But you do not know what's out there."
"Do you?" asked Blanche.
"Yes. Using the Multiverse Window we've seen the dangers that lie in other universes. We're seen the damage they could do to us. The wastelands of Hazuukai Runn. The world-ending ships of King Tritarus' Fleet. The Infinite Armada of the Great Assimilation. The galaxy eaters of-"
A portal opened, and Lady Aesc stuck her head through. "THIS FUCKING THING'S INDESTRUCTIBLE AND IT'S ALREADY SET TO BLOW, GET BACK HERE."
The doors opened, and Jason Jackson stuck his head through. "I blew up the weapon!"
The High Priest raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Good job," said Ofelia. She grabbed the others and dragged them through the portal, exiting the Schmutopia Dimension.


Back in the Utopia Dimension, Lady Aesc, Blanche, Jason, Ofelia, Meistras, and Ko stood in a large white room with a green machine, similar to the one Jason just blew up.
Lady Aesculapius tapped away at a screen on the side. "It's already been armed. I can't switch it off or destroy it."
"I was able to destroy the one in the Schmutopia Dimension," said Jason. "Just shoot it!"
"Tried that," said Professor Meistras, holding a smoking blaster. "Slightly different universe, slightly different rules."
Lady Aesc was pacing frantically. "This thing's going to wipe out both universes and everyone in them."
"Don't you mean 'wipe out every universe ever'?" said Professor Meistras.
"I stole the universal shield and used it to separate the two evil dimensions from the others."
"Oh. Right. Well in that case."
Everyone blinked and she and Ofelia were gone.
Jason blinked some more to make sure he saw that right. "What just happened?"
"That would be a teleport," said Professor Ko. "Remember, they have access to the multiverse's most powerful mass teleportation engine, the one I showed you earlier."
"I'm sure we'll see those two again," said Lady Aesc. "But first, our problem."
Jason was starting to panic. "There's got to be a way to get everyone out of these two universes safely. Right? Like with Reality Pod Beetroot 27 or whatever?"
Lady Aesculapius thought about it. "A way to evacuate two entire universes, all at once, in an instant." She turned to Professor Ko. "In the blink of an eye."
"Wait, what's this?" Jason looked between the two women, who were giving each other knowing smiles.
"Let's get back to the Factory," said Lady Aesc, pulling out her crystal ball. "We need to find two more universes."
"What's happening?" asked Blanche.
Lady Aesc finally addressed her companions. "Have you two ever heard of The Berenstain Bears?"


Jaxill sat alone in the corner of the café, sipping his mug of tea. He couldn't stop thinking about those three strangers he'd left at the council building. What if they'd been killed for trying to stop the universe-ending weapon? What if they'd tried to sabotage the universe-ending weapon and something went wrong? What if the universe could end at any second?!
A flash. Everyone shielded their eyes.
Then it was gone. Jaxill looked around. He made awkward eye contact with the barista, who pulled a face like 'that sure was weird, huh?'
Everyone soon went back to eating. Jaxill decided it must have been a trick of the light and went in for another sip of his milkshake.


"So everyone REMEMBERS The Berenstain Bears from their childhood as being spelled with an 'e' when in fact it was always Berenstain with an 'a'," Lady Aesc explained as she paced around her Factory of Crystal. "This led to a whole bunch of theories that maybe everyone on Earth suddenly jumped into another universe one day, and the 'e' they remember from The Berenstain Bears is the only clue left."
"Terrific," said Blanche. "Why is this relevant?"
"Because using this here, the Utopia Dimension's perfect teleportation engine," said Professor Ko, gesturing to the machine, "we just teleported everyone from the two evil universes to two almost-identical unpopulated ones! We saved them all, they're fine!"
"The two evil universes, the Utopia and Schmutopia Dimensions, have been destroyed, the devastation safely contained within the universal shield," said Lady Aesc. "And the two evil councils, plotting to end all of reality, are gone along with them. The day has been saved!"
"But why would there be two empty people-less universes sitting around waiting to be filled?" asked Blanche.
"With different universes, anything is possible," said Lady Aesc. "Every imaginable alternative has happened or is happening or will happen. It therefore stands to reason that there are some universes where people just...disappear. Maybe it was a plague or a weapon or a big purple alien who snapped their fingers. Regardless, now those two empty universes have people. No more evil councils, no more evil universe-killing weapons."
"But hold on," said Professor Ko. "If anything is possible, and there are infinite universes, how do we KNOW there won't be another evil council with another evil universe-killing weapon?"
"Oh, I'm sure there will be," said Lady Aesculapius, smiling. "But there will also always be people like us to stop them."


Professor Ko said her goodbyes and stepped through the portal to her new home dimension. The portal closed and she noticed that, yes, this new dimension was basically the same as her old one. The buildings were all here, the birds were flying overhead, the weather wasn't amazing but she wasn't being rained on. A normal day.
On the way to her new house, which was entirely identical to her old house, she smiled and nodded to Gahra, out for his usual evening run. The same kids were playing and laughing in the same streets.
She'd almost stopped trying to find changes, reassured that whatever changes existed were minor. Then she noticed a crowd gathering at the end of the street. The skyline had changed. At the top of the hill was a big flat empty space with no High Council building. Instead, there was just a blue hedgehog and a fox with two tails.
With the building gone, the animals could now see a large cyan emerald sitting where the High Council's treasure room would've been. The hedgehog and the fox touched the emerald and vanished along with it to the sound of a 16-bit Stage Clear theme.


Three moonloungers lay under the stars on the pink sand of Pastellion Major. Beside them was a bag of cupcakes from Virginia's Cosmic Bakes. Lady Aesculapius, Jason Jackson, and Blanche Combine looked up at the alien constellations.
"What's that one?" asked Blanche.
Lady Aesc followed her finger upwards. "That's called The Spoon. See how those two bright ones make a line and there's a circle of stars at the end?"
"Oh yeah," Blanche smiled. "I see it."
"Hey, what's that one?" Jason pointed.
"Oh, that's The Last Battle of Zazaarek-Neth, 7829. See how those 220 stars make the Palace of Xantrox Rurr and those 541 stars over there are all soldiers in the army of H'g'en Balo-o?"
Jason stared blankly up at the dots. "Oh yeah, I get that."
"Good job blowing up the weapon by the way," said Blanche, turning her head to Jason. "You're a great pilot."
Jason smiled. "Thank you. That weapon would've gone off in my face if you hadn't kept them talking. We make a good team."
"Agreed." Blanche turned back to the stars. "You're fun to hang out with."
"I'm glad you're around."
Lady Aesculapius was lying with her eyes closed and a peaceful smile across her face.
"So, where to next then?" asked Blanche.
"No idea," said Lady Aesc.
Jason idly skimmed the soft sand with his fingers. Then he felt something hard. "Whoa!" he sat up straight to show the others. "I found a bunch of gold rings! From the sand, just now."
"Yes..." Lady Aesc narrowed her eyes. "Five of them."
"Can you hear that?" said Blanche, listening to the birds. "They sound like two turtle doves. And...and..."
Lady Aesc slowly turned to face her. "Say it."
"...Three French hens."
Lady Aesculapius stood up from her moonlounger and felt the wind gather around her, like she was in tune with the current of the multiverse.
"Why the fuck are there twelve drummers drumming over there?" said Jason, gesturing down the beach.
Lady Aesc breathed in deeply. "Hold on to something. I think things are about to get...festive."