Lyra continued conversing with us, completely unaware of this glaring discrepancy of our respective time-pieces.

“I’m being hunted,” she told us after we got the initial Q&A out of the way. “Every time I try to escape, the shadows coalesce into these… shadowy monsters with swords. I can’t fight them.”

“That does sound like a problem,” Lizardman said. “In fact, this whole place has turned into a Ruin. Not the usual kind, the kind that are practically dungeons. The fantasy sort. Familiar enough with those?”

“No.” Lyra puffed up her cheeks, looking mildly offended. “Would you judge me if I said yes?”

Nerd.

“I don’t really care.” Lizardman clasped his gloved hands in his lap. “That just makes me get to my point faster, if you know the basics.”

“Let’s say I do, then.”

“You’re trapped in one. There’s a creature known as a Husk somewhere inside here running the show, and he’s the bastard trapping us in here. We take him out, we escape.”

“Is... the creature out there the Husk?”

“Not even close. The actual core of this place is gonna be a lot scarier than a shambling shadow with a toothpick.”

Lyra shivered. “Let’s burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“I have a plan to deal with it already,” Lizardman said. “Let’s just say this isn’t my first time dealing with shit like this. Tackle it tomorrow — I haven’t slept in days.”

Some small-talk and the sharing of rations followed after that, but neither of us had the will or means to point out the time anomaly. When Lizardman started snoring and Lyra busied herself with some old-looking books, I decided to let it go and forced myself to relax.

Compared to turning into a rock, slipping into the future was a normal method of displacement.

As Lyra was winding down for rest, she muttered, “I wonder what the plan is.” I watched her ponder the notion. Then she tucked herself into a thick survival quilt that looked like tinfoil wrap and nodded off.

The next morning, Lyra’s legs were bound in electric cuffs, her pistol and flashlight were shaking in her hands, and I was strapped to her back with all my gizmos and gadgets attached.

“I’m going to die down here,” she said, “I’m really going to die this time.”

As it turns out, Lizardman’s plan, in short, was to let the shadows come to us and we’d ‘deal with them.’

And as it turns out, our definitions of ‘deal with them’ were very different.

The first problem came when Lizardman pulled out the cuffs and said, “Put these on.”

Understandably, Lyra was quite against the idea. She very nearly threw a book at Lizardman, saying, “What? Why? I thought we were going to take on the monsters down here?”

“They’re Fluxite Brand Prisoner cuffs,” Lizardman explained. “When they’re closed around either your wrists or legs, they’ll cover your body in an electric shield. Anything that touches you will receive a lethal jolt.”

“But I won’t be able to run.”

“Do you think you can outrun the shadows down here?”

“No, but—”

Lizardman tossed the cuffs over, cutting her off. “But that sounds like a you problem. Just trust me here.”

The second problem came when Lizardman transferred the sling with me in it to Lyra. This came shortly after we staked out our hunting ground, a former cafeteria warped into a marble library devoid of books.

Here, there was no light.

Lyra put on the harness without complaint. She hobbled over to a stool and took a seat as Lizardman watched from the doorway, scanning the environment with her flashlight. Highlighted two floors of marble books and chairs, created shadows where any number of scary monsters could hide.

“You good to wait for a few?” Lizardman asked. “I’ll be back with the shadow in tow before you know it.”

Lyra was fidgeting when he asked that, checking over her shoulder every few seconds. “There’s somebody behind me,” she blurted out, shining her light in the long walls of darkness surrounding us.

There was nothing there.

Lizardman backed up and said, “What’re you talking about? I can see in the dark — there’s nothing behind you. This is the only door in and out.”

“I definitely feel something around here,” Lyra said, her voice wavering. “Somebody’s watching me. Watching us. I’ve been feeling it since last night but now I’m really worried.”

“Relax. I’ve punched my fair share of ghosts to death.”

“You… you what?”

“When I say nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong.” Lizardman shook his head and said, “I’ll be right back.”

Lyra reached out for him, saying, “Um... Maybe it’s your drone?”

The third problem came when Lizardman walked out on us.

That left Lyra in the dark with me as her only companion.

She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Please don’t hurt me.”

I did understand her worries. Me and Lizardman had our own ways of seeing in the dark. I could practically see through walls, though I was having a tougher time with how much Ether was in the surroundings. A defensive fog, I supposed. Clever trick to circumvent beings like me.

What I didn’t understand was her adverse reaction to me. What gives? Lizardman didn’t even blink when he saw me doing questionable things, but this woman could feel my very presence. Did she have some ability she wasn’t telling us about?

She looked tense, so just as before, I gave the most consoling statement I had on hand:

THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FEAR ITSELF.

Lyra flinched. She pointed the gun at the shadows behind her, nearly hyperventilating as she flicked between the various shadows creeping up the walls.

“Sorry,” she said, forcing herself to calm down. “Sorry. I’m just — This is a bit much.”

Even if her existence was dubious, she wasn’t aware of it. She was just an ordinary person.

WE APOLOGIZE FOR OUR SERVICE HERE AT ███████. MAY WE SATISFY YOU IN THE FUTURE.

If only I could talk to her normally. Maybe we could reach an understanding.

“Hah. Look at me,” Lyra said, looking over the pistol in her hand. “I’m a grown woman getting scared of shadows. I must look really fucking pathetic right now. Haha.” She pawed at her temple, pulling on her hair. “Fuck.”

THERE IS NO BRAVERY WITHOUT FEAR.

Lyra cast a long look over her shoulder. Then she shoved her hands between her thighs in an attempt to get them to stop shaking. “Thanks. Even if it’s just automated, it’s nice to know you’re not trying to kill me. At least, I hope you aren’t.”

I don’t know why Lizardman didn’t lend some of his combat gear. Lyra wasn’t dressed for combat at all, wearing only a torn-up sweater, olive slacks, and shoes fit for a long day of sitting at the office. Couldn’t he have lent his protective vest?

WORKING HARD TODAY PROVIDES WITH A BETTER TOMORROW.

“Yeah? Got any other fortune cookie tidbits of wisdom stored in there?”

Boy, did I ever.

LIFE IS NOT HOLDING GOOD CARDS, BUT IN PLAYING THOSE YOU HOLD WELL.

A DREAM YOU HAVE WILL COME TRUE.

YOUR SHOES WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY TODAY.

The deposition of wisdom elicited a chuckle. The tension in Lyra’s back faded as she said, “My shoes? Now that one’s a bit far-fetched. I’ve needed new ones for a long time, maybe ones that make me look good too.”

She was calm again when she asked, “Say, are you really sentient? Like, fully autonomous? Have emotions?”

AFFIRMATIVE. AFFIRMATIVE. AFFIRMATIVE.

“That’s strange. When I was working, there was all sorts of hubbub about how fully human AI would never exist. How Qi and whatever were needed for the soul to exist.” A shrug. “Never believed in that stuff myself. It only took five years to prove those bigwigs wrong, huh? That’s a relief.”

THERE ARE DECADES WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS; AND THERE ARE WEEKS WHERE DECADES HAPPEN.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. Then again, I wasn’t sure which one of us was living with a broken clock.

“Don’t tell me you’re Mankardian,” she muttered. “That’s a first. A Mankardian AI. That was my home before I moved to the Apostle Empire.” She shook her head. “My parents must be worried sick by now.”

TIME RESOLVES ALL.

“...Yeah, you’re right. If I wait long enough, I’ll have a chance to set things straight.”

I don’t know about that one. Time is only a catalyst; You choose what to do with it.

It was then, just as she began to relax, when Lizardman’s shoulder broke through the library door. He took a sharp left, vaulting over a half-finished bookshelf to reach the second floor balcony overlooking the us.

Lyra shined her light at him, gasping. “What? How—”

Heavy, metallic footsteps echoed from the hall. Lyra turned her flashlight towards the noise.

A clipped scream escaped her.

“Prove your worthiness, challenger. Prove your worthiness, challenger. Prove—”

A headless suit of black armor slowly walked towards us, axe and shield in hand. Rings of blue light reverberated around where its neck would be, giving off a repeating voice like a knife on glass.

Lyra wasted no time, dumping the contents of her pistol. Metal pierced metal and red sparks danced in the dark.

“Gas mask guy, now’s a good time!” she screamed, fumbling a reload.

“You’re right,” he said. “Now is a good time.”

Lizardman clicked something in his palm. At the same time, the headless armor covered the remaining distance with a stride and swung his silvery axe.

The only thing Lyra’s untrained reflexes could do was watch.

Not mine.

The axe came down and split the seat Lyra was sitting on. She herself was on the ground, dumbfounded and slightly dazed from being suddenly pulled away by a firm gust of wind. With the help of my wind, she got to her feet and began shuffling back.

“She seeks only the worthiest challengers. She seeks only the worthiest challengers.”

Lyra shot a few more times, using the table to keep her distance. The armor stepped on top of it and stared directly at her. Then it pointed its axe.

“You have been chosen to prove your might for the Princess. You have been chosen to prove your might for the princess. You have been—”

“Now’s a really good fucking time!” Lyra cried, ducking underneath the table. She crawled on her hands and knees, looking around desperately for another place to run.

The door. I pushed her towards the door and she took the hint, running at far beyond her normal speed.

With a single gesture, the headless armor closed the doors. Prying on them didn’t do a thing.

“Prove yourself. Prove yourself. Prove yourself.”

“Help! Please, please! Anything!”

Lyra barely tumbled out of the way of the next strike, practically tripping to avoid a decapitating blow. The headless armor gave chase.

This was Lizardman’s plan, a plan to break all of us out of here. But he disabled Lyra’s shield and was merely watching from above.

There must be some meaning to this, I reasoned. Some tactical acumen I was missing in my delirious rock-based state.

So he had to help. Soon.

Any minute now.

Any second now.

Another deathblow narrowly avoided.

A raw, desperate scream for help.

But Lizardman simply looked on from his perch, arms still crossed and a smiling row of saw-teeth hidden behind his mask.