"Hey, what were you doing outside?" Blair asked, walking around the apartment in a pair of fleece pyjamas, brushing the miscellaneous cats that littered the apartment floor.

“Uh, nothing. Mail,” Thomas said.

“I know nobody’s gotten mail since 2040. Don’t lie to me.” Blair stopped brushing one of the smaller kittens, a rambunctious squirt named “Saxophone”—a nod to its golden colour and the loud noises it made at night.

“My old boss was outside. She wants me to go work for the Krokodils.” Thomas tried to downplay this major revelation with a playful shrug and chuckle, but Blair was terrified. “Oh, haha. Pathetic. Thinking you’d go work for them killing for money! That’s funny.” Blair laughed, returning to brushing Saxophone.

“Yeah. I’m having a really fun time . . .”

“You know if you wanted to play a board game or something we could. I’m tired, but I think I need a palate cleanser.”

“Um, I think I’ll just go to bed. Thanks for the offer, though.” Thomas averted his gaze as he walked towards the couch.

“Okay. I’ll be awake for the next little while,” Blair offered as she walked away down the hall towards her bedroom, the lights turning off as she walked, and Thomas was left sitting on a couch in the dark.

Thomas pulled out a bottle of Chorus from his fancy jacket, eyeing it as he turned it over in his hands. I can’t believe I just lied to her about that. I should tell her, shouldn’t I? Tell her it was for her own good. But I doubt that’d go down too well. Thomas opened the bottle. It’s not that I’m happy about being forced to abandon the quest or anything because then I won’t have to face the prospect of losing my mother forever . . . but there’s always a silver lining.

Suddenly, the dark living room turned into a grid, completely unprompted. “Thomas, what’s wrong with you?” Phantrana boomed as the darkness swirled overhead.

“Oh, great! You can just show up now, I was waiting for the feature where you could suddenly just drop in to yell at me and make fucked up data puppets of my trauma and loved ones.”

“I don’t understand why you hate that feature so much. Every time I ask you about it, it’s always ‘No, Phantrana!’ and ‘I don’t wanna do That, Phantrana!” and ‘No, I don’t want to see all of my dead pets in one big room! Yes, it’s because you don’t actually make animal noises. You just say ‘bark’!”

“To be fair, I don’t understand how you still don’t know what a dog sounds like.”

“Hey, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m sort of, uh, an alien? Well, technically, you’re the alien but you aren’t ready for that kind of hot take, huh? I mastered your language pretty quickly, you know. You don’t know how to speak my language!”

“Because you don’t speak your language. It’s communicated exclusively via hormonal releases, and I know this because you can’t seem to be quiet about it. Your language stinks, Phantrana. Literally.”

“That’s mean. And racist. Do you want to see my true form, Thomas? Then you’ll know real fear. There are a lot of valves.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” The shadows began to bulge. “Ah, okay. Nevermind. You win. What did you want to talk about?”

“How you just blew off your friend to hang out with your mom. You always do this. It’s isolating you.”

“Whatever. I love the people from my past. I love my mom too.”

“You know, your mom wasn’t that great, right?”

“What are you talking about, my mom was cool! She was an actress. She had a cool Civ. She—”

“Was an alcoholic who neglected you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

And Phantrana was gone. The living room had returned.

Phantrana’s out of their mind. And I’m going to prove it, Thomas thought, downing a shot of the bluish-pinkish liquid.

* * *

“Son, it’s five o’clock somewhere!” Thomas’s mother, Goldie, exclaimed, pouring out a glass of boxed wine as she ate a piece of white bread to soak up the booze.

“But it’s eight o’clock now! I’m going to be late for school!” Thomas whined, hoisting up the straps of his backpack as he pointed at the door.

“Eight o’clock is way too early. I cry in the bath until 2 a.m. and then don’t wake up until 2 p.m. the next day most of the time . . . and I’m living, laughing, loving, my son!” Goldie shouted, tousling Thomas’s messy brown hair. “School is messing with my sleep schedule—uh YOUR sleep schedule. Let’s just have a fun day instead! Play some games. Watch a movie.”

“Don’t I need to go to school to get a career?”

“You’re the son of a famous actress. Unless I somehow die unexpectedly before I get around to writing that will, your future is set, Thomas.” Goldie smiled.

Thomas puzzled over this. “Okay!”

* * *

Thomas woke up outside the apartment down on the metal floor in the artificial winds. He stood up, cracking his joints as he did, before looking around to determine where he was. I didn’t know I could walk while on Chorus. Well, I did. I just chose to ignore it in order to gain a justification for my isolating behaviour. Ah, fuck. Now it’s ruined. Thomas looked around for a sign of anyone else. “See, Phantrana? That was perfectly healthy behaviour. And while she did die unexpectedly and now I’m broke, I’m rich in family!” Thomas swirled the bottle that he had luckily closed before the trip had started. “Really? You aren’t going to take the bait? Fine, I’ll just go back to having fun.”

* * *

Thomas’s mother had decided that they would play an educational game. Or at least something she deemed “educational”.

“What’s Drunk Trivial Pursuit?” Thomas asked as the projection of a game flew out of his mother’s Unit and onto the table in front of them.

“It’s like school but more fun. You can just drink apple juice or whatever. Maybe ice cream. Go nuts.” Goldie smiled as she started up the game. Her long blonde hair shone bright gold as it extended and grabbed a box of ice cream from the freezer.

Thomas cheered as it flew over to him.

Goldie wasn’t sure if you drank every time you got a question correct or incorrect. So, it eventually just devolved into her getting drunk and twelve-year-old Thomas getting very bloated as he ate an entire box of ice cream instead of learning about geography. “I shouldn’t have eaten it all,” Thomas whined as he lay stomach up on the couch, holding it in his hands.

“Well, you learned a lesson today that’s a lot more important than what you would have learned in school.” Goldie struggled to keep herself stable as she entered a laughing fit before falling onto the couch.

“I could still go back to school you know . . .”

“Are you crazy? You’ve already done something bad. Why on Earth would you go back now?”

“I guess you’re right. What do you want to do now, Mom?” Thomas looked over and saw his mother asleep on the floor. “Mom? Oh, who am I kidding?” Thomas lifted himself off of the couch and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek as he went upstairs to play video games for the rest of the day.

But after a few hours, Thomas heard their automatic door open. He was up in his dark bedroom, clutching his stomach from the ice cream cramps when he heard the front door open and the sounds of footsteps. Did Mom go outside? he thought, poking his head out of his doorway and looking down over the stairwell. She was still on the ground. Somebody else was inside the house. Thomas retreated back into his bedroom, shaking in his school uniform as he thought about the person inside his house. Were they a burglar or something? Were they here to kidnap Mom? Thomas calmed himself, slowing his nerves and returning himself to a more stoic composure. He knew that someone was inside their house and his mother was downstairs with them. And that he had to do something.

Goldie Finn opened her eyes to see the front door slowly closing. Did Thomas go outside? she thought, slowly standing up and walking to the door, the metallic plate opening and showing her the view of their green front lawn. A lawn that Thomas wasn’t playing on. Somebody else was inside the house. Goldie retreated back to the living room, her brow sweating as she ran her hand through her long blonde hair, placing her back against the wall as she worried about the person inside the house. Were they a burglar or something? Were they here to kidnap Thomas? Goldie calmed herself, slowing her nerves and steeling her gaze. She knew that someone was inside their house, and her son was in danger as well. And that she had to do something.

Goldie lived in a decently large home, due to her career playing the famous Civ hero Scary Hair. She thought it was a terrible name but admitted there was potential in the “ghostly adjective” then “body part” formula. She walked through the large kitchen area, a dining room, up stairways, and into bedrooms as she looked for this individual. Am I just being crazy? she thought as she held her back against the wall and examined each expansive room in her house.

Then, she saw a glass of wine sitting out on a kitchen counter. Did I put this here? she thought. I had to have. What kind of Civ user would put a bunch of wine on a table? Goldie held it in her hand, swirling it around and examining it, the rich fruity aroma filling the air around her. It was a far more expensive blend than even she would purchase. Goldie brought it up to her mouth. No, no. I can’t drink right now. My son might be in danger. I have to put it down. Goldie placed the glass back on the table—but she was unable to release her grip from the shaped glass. What the—? she thought. Suddenly it became tough to stand, as Goldie felt her legs tremble and her vision change. Did somebody roofie me? No, that’s impossible. I didn’t drink the wine. This has to be the work of a Civ. Goldie was seeing double as she swirled around the kitchen, stumbling and spinning as she felt herself getting drunker and drunker. Then, she saw a figure dressed in a black skinsuit quickly retreat behind a doorway. They were watching her.

“PHANTRANA OVER GOLD!”