“No. You’re not real,” I grunt. “You’re nothing like him.”
But he’s everything like him. It’s this place that allows him to be something new. Something improved and even more sinister than he used to be.
He’s a version of himself I never wanted to meet.
I turn my head and look at a cloth mask hanging on the mantlepiece above the fire. I’ve seen that mask before.
“The cultists,” I whisper. “It was you. You formed them.”
“And then I killed them,” he says. “They weren’t much use, anyway.”
His smile grows as I start to question my own sanity. What is real should be so easy to define, but I’ve been here for too long. I don’t know anymore.
I glance back at Kalxor. His eyes are wide, pupils glowing red, but his energy is waning.
“Did you know my father was here?” I ask him.
With the energy he has left, he lifts his head and exhales with intensity. “Don’t listen to his lies. He will try to divide us. Remember what we had together.”
But what we had wasn’t real. It was only a mirage, something I’ve ached over for such a long time. This isn’t the place to change my life. This is an escape.
He told me things would get harder. I didn’t listen.
Why the fuck didn’t I listen?
“Ava,” he pleads. “Hold on to our connection. Remember our love.”
My father turns, weaponless, hands open. “You wanted to know more,” he tells him. “That’s why you’re here, right? It’s why I found you.”
“I didn’t realize it would come at such a cost,” Kalxor growls.
“Everything comes with a high price tag these days,” he says. “Even you know that. Let me ask you a question. Do you even love my daughter? Or are you so fascinated with escaping you’d do anything to get away?”
Before Kalxor can even try lunging, my father pulls the blade in front of him. He leans over Kalxor, unfazed by my cries.
My father drags the rigid edge over Kalxor’s tight flesh. A trickle of blood drapes down near his heart.
“This world,” my father growls. “You don’t really believe in it, do you?”
Kalxor pants. “End this,” he begs.
“All because you feel a little pain? Is that your reliable confirmation?” he asks.
“No,” Kalxor admits. “I know this world is different. It’s not like the planets on the outside. It might be a simulation, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. What happens here effects everything. I love Ava. Do not twist my intent.”
My father leaves the blade sitting on Kalxor’s thigh, tempting him to grab it. “Have you ever asked yourself why you believe that?”
“I don’t need to,” he says.
“I believe you do,” my father says, untying his wrists.
Kalxor wiggles free, eyes lighting up with exalted freedom. He picks up the knife and lifts, letting out a great roar.
But my father looks over at me. Another wink before he speaks. “Open source command,” he says.
Kalxor turns stiff. The knife falls to the floor. His eyes dart back and forth behind closed eyelids. He’s reliving something. Something traumatic and deep.
A soft moan escapes his lips before a long howl resounds across the cabin.