I’m in trash. I fell out of the sky, plummeted through some cloth things, and landed in a pile of trash. Mushy, gross trash. Everybody on the street is looking at me. None of them make me feel any less embarrassed. All of them look like they’re on the brink of laughter.

“Hey man, you ok?” A kid asks. She is swiftly pulled back by her mother, shushing the girl. I struggle to my feet, the trash making it difficult to stand. Stumbling out of the alleyway, everyone takes three big steps back, almost like I was infected with something. I very well might, due to marinating in the damn trash, but they look at me with hostility, almost like I personally wronged each and every one of them.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I say, hoping to appease the crowd I’ve garnered. The looks of hostility and disgust only grows, a strong urge to run bubbling in my stomach. Loud engines close in on the scene, soldiers armed to the teeth drifting through the crowd, forcing them to move back even farther. Three cars full of soldiers all swarm me, all wielding firearms. Multiple red dots land on my chest as a man emerges from one of the cars.

“Alright, here’s what's gonna happen. I’m going to ask questions, you’re going to answer, then we’ll go from there,” The man says.

“Is all this really necessary for a basic interrogation?” I ask.

“Depends on your answers. But for now, yes. I’m The Dictator. I represent control in The Eight Fatalities. What’s your name?” The man asks.

“Aku Bentley,” I answer.

“As in The Idiot?” The Dictator asks.

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice,” I respond, insulted. The Dictator’s face twists into a giant smile, his eyes beaming with joy.

“Soldiers, lower your weapons! He’s with us,” The Dictator commands. The men all lower their guns as he approaches me, dragging me back to one of the cars before shoving me into it. “Take us back to HQ.”

“Hey, you know this is kidnapping right? I could get you locked up for this,” I threaten. The Dictator just laughs, his smile only growing bigger.

“Man, you really are The Idiot! You just fell right into my lap, my luck couldn’t be any better,” He exclaims.

“Stop calling me an idiot, it's hurtful,” I respond. His laugh turns into a full on cackle, the sound almost mocking me.

“You are hilarious Bentley,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes. My mouth stays shut, I’m just fighting a losing battle. Before long we arrive at whatever HQ is, and I am swiftly pulled out of the car and dragged through the door by The Dictator. We walk into a room that resembles the roundtable room, with a roundtable in the center of the room. “Take a seat, Bentley.”

“Yes sergeant,” I mock, giving a rigid salute before taking the nearest chair.

“So what are you doing all the way out here, you’re supposed to be in The Mesa,” The Dictator questions.

“You know about The Mesa?!” I ask, bewildered.

“Not really, just that you’ve lived there your whole life and they pumped you full of drugs,” The Dictator responds.

“Ok, so why am I here?” I ask.

“Because you’re The Idiot, representing ignorance in The Eight Fatalities, and I’m The Dictator, representing control in The Eight Fatalities,” He says.

“What does that even mean?”

“The Eight Fatalities are the children of The Genie. She imbued us with eight of the most dangerous emotions to have, and gave us special powers based on the emotion. There’s curiosity, control, fear, ignorance, envy, hope, doubt, and paranoia. We’re essentially The Genie’s failsafe, and I think you’ve seen pieces of the fucking sky in the grass. I’m trying to unite us all so we can bring The Genie back to a safe state like she was before she broke the sky, which is why you’re here.”

“But my parents are Olympia and Michael Bentley.”

“Well, yes and no. See, The Genie essentially picked eight children at random and turned a specific emotion to eleven by putting a piece of herself into us. So while they might be your parents, The Genie is as well.”

“You know what, I’m just going to take your word for it. So where are the others then?”

“Well, the fatalities were chosen at random, so they could be anywhere.”

“So you don’t have any clue where the rest is, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“I never said all that now. I have suspects for three of the six we’re currently missing, but fear, curiosity, and paranoia are complete wildcards for me right now.”

“Well why am I here then?”

“You’re going to help me track them down, then we’re all going to stop The Genie. Simple.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“Track down my suspects, and hope they have information on another fatality. Not ideal, but it’s all we have for right now.”

“Wouldn’t that take too long, though?”

“Not necessarily, hope and doubt are guaranteed to be together, so that’s two birds with one stone. They probably have some good connections to powerful people. Envy is also very easy to find, and he knows a lot of things about a lot of people, so we could blackmail with said information. Paranoia will be around one of them, so we can hopefully get lucky with her, or we could brute force our way to her. Once we get The Watcher, curiosity and fear will be easy.”

“Who is The Watcher?”

“Paranoia. She’s The Watcher, and she observes the other fatalities, so if we catch her with hope and doubt then everyone else will be smooth sailing.”

“So your entire plan of stopping The Genie is to walk up to these people you’ve never met before, tell them to come with you, and you expect them to just do it?”

“Well I’m pretty sure they all want the sky back and The Genie back in a safe state, so yes.”

“Isn’t that a bit too optimistic, Mr. Dictator?”

“Well it worked for you, so.”

“I didn’t have a choice. It was either go with you or get shot, and I’d rather not die just yet.”

“Bentley relax, I have alternatives if the easy way doesn’t work. I don’t get told no.”

“So you’re going to force them into submission?’

“I represent control for a reason. Just trust me. C'mon, I’ll take you to your new home.” He forces me out of the chair and out the door, back into the city.

“I could’ve gotten up by myself, you know,” I say.

“Just thought you needed a little help, Idiot,” The Dictator responds. “The city is in the middle of a revolution led by yours truly, so everyone is a little on edge.”

“Isn’t that kind of a big deal? Why are you so nonchalant about it?” I ask.

“I don’t really care about it, I just started it to pass the time. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter much to me,” The Dictator explains.

“You know, for representing control, you are one chill man,” I say.

“Everything here is already under my control, I have all my plans for the revolution already finished, all that’s left to do is execute,” The Dictator informs.

“Everything is so beige, why is everything so beige?” I ask.

“Well we don’t really have the time, resources, or manpower to clean the place up right now, so this is just what it is until the revolution finishes,” The dictator says.

“Why did you even start a revolution?”

“Well Migrad, the capital, treated this place like a landfill, tossing all its trash and prisoners in it, so the people were already pissed off. I just took all that anger and organized it. It was a pretty easy thing to do now that I think about it.”

“Ok, where exactly are we going?”

“Man, you ask so many questions.”

“Well I kinda fell out of the sky directly into this place, so I’m not the most familiar.”

“I’m taking you to a friend of mine you’re going to be staying with.”

“This is the perfect set up to get me killed, you know.”

“Trust me, you’d be dead if I wanted it.” We arrive at a small shack barely standing. “Alright, we’re here.”

“This is it?” I ask.

“Doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it completely transforms once you go in,” The Dictator says.

“This just feels like a setup.” The Dictator grabs the back of my neck and forces me forward, his grip impossible to escape from. I lift my legs and plant them firmly on the door before it swings open, almost mockingly. The Dictator tosses me in before closing the door behind me, and he wasn’t lying. The inside looks like a palace, my body clinging to a royal blue carpet as gold walls shine in my eyes. Pushing myself to my feet, my awe forces my body into autopilot, my legs moving in whichever direction they please. Each room starts and ends with a perfectly arched doorway, the scent of perfume and royalty filling each and every room. Mini lifetimes happen in each room, almost like I’m watching a slideshow of the builders' experience. The gold and blue shifts into a pure white before giving way to a deep green, each room completely different from the last, only the arched doorway connecting them. A woman stands in front of a doorway, a mask hiding her face.

“Let us begin.”