I haven’t felt a balance in a long time. Chaos is all I know. But she’s helping me weather the storm.
“Why did Elon allow this?” she asks aloud.
Elon. I have to find him.
“It’s renewing itself,” I tell her. “The world is mirroring, splitting in two, endlessly like fractals.”
We’ll get lost in this place. We’ll never escape...
We step onto a street, and suddenly we’re walking through a row of houses. In the peripheral there is a large construction, shaped like a diamond piercing the atmosphere above, a well-known skyscraper from my planet.
“I know this place,” she says. “It’s near my neighborhood.”
There are solemn faces in the windows. Some, alien. Others, human. They watch us silently, an eerie sight to behold. This isn’t her neighborhood. It’s a false image, and we should look away.
“So do I,” I whisper.
“Our minds are—”
Ava pauses, swallows, and exhales, trembling.
“Our minds are connected,” I say. “We make this world. Every step we take creates new experiences. We are both infected. And I’m not sure if there’s a cure.”
She turns, franticly obsessing over her thoughts. I should calm her down, but the truth is, I think she needs to go through this to wake up. This isn’t some fun game. What we have found ourselves in is Hell. I don’t care if someone made it or not. It is what it is.
It’s like I said. I’m not one of the characters. I didn’t plan for this.
Does anyone believe me?
“You were right,” she stutters. “You told me. You tried to warn me.”
“What do you fear the most?” I ask.
Her neck rolls. A shiver causes her to tremble outward. “Why do you ask?”
I look past the row of houses. The buildings are in chaos, white-tailed, orange flames spewing from windows and doors, smoldering in the cracks and crevices like red crystals. The air rushes through, blowing the foundation, striking fast, and causing them to buckle and collapse.
I’m one of the strongest, most resilient aliens I know, but seeing this makes me feel like an ant. Like I’m completely out of control.
Chaos reigns.
“Because if we keep walking, that’s what we might find.”
She sucks in her cheeks. “There’s nothing I worry about,” she says, starting to walk with outward courage.
I run after her, taking her arm, but she quickly yanks it into her chest. “Tell me the truth,” I say.
She bites down, eyes narrowing. “This is just coded language. It can be deciphered,” she declares.
Cognitive dissonance is one hell of a drug. “Here we go,” I groan.
There’s no ignoring the reality of this place. It’s a fucked-up fever dream on steroids. I’ve lived through a lot, but I’ve never seen anything like it.
A magnificent howl rings over the land. More gunshots. Explosions and more screaming. Death all around us. An apocalypse every second.
I don’t want to witness any more. Not yet.
I just want her.