It’s masks all the way down.

Apex

Maybe Later (Somewhere Time) - Copycat - Floating In Nothing

I’m floating in a sea of nothingness. Am I even floating? There’s so much nothing I can’t tell.

This sucks. What happened? Where the hell am I? What’s going on?

A small book slaps firmly into my hand. Huh. I look suspiciously around at nothing. It’s still nothing. The book is plain, sturdy, and not nothing. I guess I’ll give it a read.

You are in Godhome. Welcome.

There is no reality consensus here. It is what you make of it.

Tiger isn’t here. Unless he’s hiding. Or this is a book of lies.

May as well look for him while you’re here.

Your wish is a command in Godhome.

Unless, someone else wishes the opposite.

Then it’s still a command, but it may not work out so great.

Huh. That was informative. Maybe a little confusing. Am I supposed to make my own reality? Sounds fun, but I have nothing prepared. I didn’t know reality creation was going to be an option. Woah, is that why I’m in nothing? This could get weird.

If I’m in Godhome, time is moving very fast, and I’m burning daylight. Days are going by in Darkhome for every minute I’m here, and the longer the boys are alone, the more likely it is that they’re in trouble. Also, the apocalypse could happen. I need to get out of Godhome fast.

That said, the book is right - as long as I’m here anyway, I better make a quick search for Tiger. Cy would be quite critical if we had to make two trips to this time devouring void because I neglected to look around. I’m pretty sure Tiger wasn’t in Gianthome.

So, what’s the fastest way to search a malleable reality? I guess I’m supposed to make a wish.

“Show me everything.”

The nothing cracks. Shatters. I’m shot through a million shards of everything. Countless vignettes of lust, sloth, gluttony, and wroth. A bullet parade of selfish delights.

Then it’s done. I’m left floating in nothingness. Only a second has passed, but I feel much older. The folks in Godhome are up to stuff.

Now that I know what’s out there, I sense each fragment. Know them. I could reach them. I guess they know me too. A sweaty orgy planet sends a come hither.

Nice spell, fast mover. Come join us.

They’re a pulsating smut fractal. I like a pile of satyrs as much as the next girl, but I’m not sure how I’d fit in. Also, there’s no time to feel it out.

“Thanks, but I’m on a schedule. Do you know where Tiger is?”

No, but Black Bart is coming. Our connection frays. Beware. He means to murder you…

Well, that’s not good. I saw Balthazar the Black on my rapid tour. He wasn’t a particularly violent god. Seemed mostly interested in himself.

A dark comet with a shining tail streaks towards me. Slows and resolves into a huge black dragon with an orbital hoard of gold edged mirrors.

“You’re an interesting delusion. I wonder what you’ll show me?”

He’s a majestic mother fucker. The mirrors reflect his best angles. You hardly notice their frames are wrought from tortured golden people. An afterthought of metallic agony to window dress his ego.

I feel my body stiffen. Fuck this. Let there be light.

Black Bart is blasted with the heat of a billion bloated suns. He fades in an ultra novic whitewash of high energy destruction. I’m still turning to gold. I turn up the intensity, vary the wavelength, but it’s not working. Black Bart just chortles as I’m alchemised.

I switch to defense. Wish the gold out of me. Nearly turn to silver. No metals! Me Orc! Wish away dismemberment, disease, death, and decay. He is really coming at me. Fuck it - I’m static. Cannot change. Nope - that’s too much. I’m in a bubble. Nothing gets in my bubble that I don’t like. My lungs fill with beer.

Garf! Need a better bubble! Nothing happens in my bubble unless I agree. Gag up suds. That was embarrassing. Can I die of embarrassment? Wait, can he die of embarrassment? He pauses, then gets noticeably cockier. Doing the black dragon strut. Dang, he’s on to me. I’m gonna lose. Should just give up. Or is he making me think that? I’ll only give up if I want to! Lightning! Fire! Meteor! Bubble-bubble-bubble!!!

He’s getting in my bubble. Making me think things I agree with, like I’m a loser. Diabolical. Smart, though. I go to take a poke at his self-esteem, then pause. This is his trick, he’ll have a defense for it. I fire quick thoughts - he’s better than me, he’s totally going to win, he has nothing to worry about, he deserves the win.

Balthazar locks up. He wasn’t ready for emotional support. Sucker. I’m about to send him on his way - with the smug belief that I’m beneath his notice - when he freaks out and I feel a terrifying hunger.

“What did you do?”

“Oh no.” moans Balthazar. “Oh I fucked up.”

Below us, the nothing stirs and becomes more potent. An empty hole that draws with terrible purpose. Balthazar and I strain to get away, but are only pulled inexorably closer.

“I wished for something that could for sure kill you, and I accidentally woke The Hunger!”

“Well that was sloppy. Wish spell take the wheel.”

“I already said I fucked up!”

“Fine. How do we get away?”

“We can’t! It wants to eat us more than we want to live!”

Seems unlikely. And yet, I am still moving closer. I try a hundred quick thoughts to get gone. Nothing works. Fuck. Now I gotta make my own sloppy spell.

I wish for someone who can handle The Hunger.

Water thunders around us. A chaotic waterspout filled with keening naiads and driving beats. They sing of love, and loss, and what could have been. Through the centre of the turbulent waters strides an ancient lynx-kin pounding a scarred djembe. I haven’t seen him in hours. He hasn’t seen me in eons.

“Hey Bubbles.”

He winks at me. Dives into The Hunger. Lays his hands on the beast. “Back to sleep, big man. We’ll wake you for the end.”

The Hunger shudders, zones out. The naiads rip away Black Bart’s mirrors. They free his transmigrated victims and spirit them away. The dragon bristles, coils to pounce on Bubbles. He’s stopped with a raised paw. “Peace Balthazar. We will discuss this. But I need a moment with my friend.”

Whether it’s magic or some other authority, the dragon backs down, and the old lynx-kin turns to me.

“Thanks for the transport spell. Helhome was getting tired.”

I nod. “No problem. How’d you put The Hunger to sleep? I tried that.”

“Maybe you were putting him to sleep for your benefit? I put him to sleep for his benefit. It makes a difference.”

“Okay. Well done. I owe you one.”

“Nope.” He pulls out a distressed half of a book. Hands it to me. “Thanks for the loan.”

It’s the same half book I gave him on Helhome. Without a cover, I can see what’s written on the first page.

There is no real me.

Just the fake me’s I make to deal with others.

Beneath them, there’s nothing.

How I treat others is who I really am.

The rest of the book is blank.

“This is it?” I ask. “After how many eons, this is all you wrote?”

He shrugs. “It was all I needed. What are you doing here? If Tiger’s in Godhome, you’d find him in a second or not at all.”

“I was trying to get to Darkhome, but I always fuck it up.”

Bubbles nods. “That’s a tricky one. Let me help you.”

He makes a portal from nothing to darkness. It’s a subtle difference. I thank Bubbles and head through.

The other side has gravity, and solid objects, and objective reality. Good, good, good.

My vision slowly adjusts. I’m in a jagged tunnel of purple crystal. Purple and black are the only colors I can see. Purple crystal and black silhouettes. There’s a small, black silhouette rocking on the tunnel floor before me.

It mutters in a familiar voice. “Oh man, we are so fucked. I don’t know what to do. I really, really, need more help. Any help. But preferably somebody who likes me and is suspicious and can kick a lot of ass.”

“Maple?”

The gnomic runesmith looks up. “Copycat? Oh my gods, Copycat! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He wraps me in a fierce embrace.

I pat him on the back and smile. Guess I got here just in time. “What’s happening, buddy?”

“Betrayal. And confusion. And maybe a few bad decisions. A lot of very violent liars. And I keep losing people. But I may have invented a new spell. Also, I’m done talking to strangers. From now on we kick everybody’s ass and sort out the bodies later. That’s how we win. You’ve come at the turn of the tide!”

I’m still holding Bubbles’ sacred text. How I treat others is who I really am. I tuck it in with it’s other half.

“Bitchin. Let’s get to it.”