Vincent and the group had been on the Mummy for about twenty minutes, sitting in their own silence. Zander was packed between both Vincent and Eliot, like an idiot sandwich. The bus was packed for the first twenty minutes they were on it, only clearing up on the most recent stop. The doting couple that were next to them, who also got on at the same time they did, finally got off at the stop, leaving the group alone in the back.

“Finally,” Zander exclaimed quietly. “I couldn’t take any more of them. If I hear one more person call someone their ‘Soul Sugar’ or their ‘Hunnybuns’ I will beat them senseless. I might even call my lawyer to sue them for disturbing the peace.”

Vincent, who had been looking out the window for the entirety of their ride up to that point, turned around and asked, “Do you even know how to throw a punch, Hunnybuns?”

“Well no, but—” Zander paused. He then just glared at Vincent, wordlessly. Vincent could visibly see the bloodlust and hatred seeping out of Zander’s person, like waves of red from evaporating blood in a desert.

There was a minute of complete silence before any one of the friends spoke up.

“That doesn’t answer my question: do you?” Vincent finally spoke up and asked.

Rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath, Zander replied, “Yes of course I do, I’ve read many books on martial arts and self-defense techniques.” His eyes then drifted towards the nearest window. “Why are you of all people the one person who can push all the right buttons?”

“Who knows?” Vincent replied with a slight smile creeping across his face.

“So why are we in the back of the bus?” Eliot piped up. “It sounds like you had something you wanted to say.”

“Ah yes,” Zander replied, his demeanor shifting to a more prideful one, “there’s something that’s been bothering as of late.” He leaned in closer to the group, silently motioning the other two to huddle in close.

“We’re bringing back the good old secret meetings, eh?” Vincent quietly asked with some enthusiasm.

Immediately going off of what Vincent said, Eliot whispered, “Oooooo, that brings me back.” Eliot’s voice was softer than normal, and had the tone of someone who was in the process of reminiscing. “This reminds me of that time you and I,” he said, motioning towards Vincent, “would hold secret meetings in your treehouse and Zander would get so upset that we wouldn’t let him in. He would get so red and then—”

“Let’s not get off track,” Zander interrupted, his face a slighter deeper shade of red. “I wanted to discuss with you two about the strange occurrence of events lately.”

“I thought we already talked about the Resonators an’ shit? Isn’t that why we’re here? To find information about them and whatnot?” Vincent asked.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Zander’s expression got a little more serious, his eyebrows furling and his mouth being covered by his hand being the two dead giveaways of how serious he was. “I’m talking about how easy it was to get into this place and what Captain Neil said to the pirate captain.” He then looked around him, as if looking for any prying ears or eyes.

“Oh, I see what you mean. It did seem kind of convenient how everything went,” Eliot replied.

“Exactly!” Zander replied. “Normally we would be detained or, at the very least, assigned someone who would keep a close eye on us. I may not be as well versed in Egyptian law as I should be, but I know that random refugees and foreigners wouldn’t just be left to roam the country freely. In addition, we don’t even have our passports, seeing that they got lost during the pirate attack, so that’s another reason why they shouldn’t have let us go so easily.”

“We probably just got lucky—I don’t see what the big deal is,” Vincent replied nonchalantly.

“Are you an idiot? There is no such thing as luck that great—everything in the world can be reasoned out and everything has an explanation.” Zander then paused and rubbed his hand on his temple. “I’m not going to start this right now. Eliot, you understand what I’m saying, right?”

“Sure,” Eliot replied, his eyes showing his obvious confusion to the situation.

“Thank you.” Zander then seemed to focus back in on what he was saying before. “As I was saying, I think something really suspicious is going on and we need to be on alert. That includes you as well, Vince.”

“Whatever,” Vincent replied.

“That’s probably the best answer I’ll get from you, so I’ll take it. Another thing that I want to discuss is the name, Lucretia. Your father didn’t seem to know anything about that name, and nothing I found on the internet told me anything about that name that I didn’t already know.”

“Whoever they are, Neil seemed to think that they were going to mean something to the pirate.”

“That’s exactly right, Vince. Which leads me to think that they are someone who is either really powerful, really dangerous, or both. So, with that being the case and the fact that something else entirely that’s suspicious is going on, I think we need to be very careful—something is not right.”

“Oh, I see. That seems really scary to think about,” Eliot said, his tone dipping down towards the end.

Seeing the obvious worry surrounding Eliot, Vincent chimed in and said, “Ah don’t worry about it! If anyone tries to fuck with us, I’ll beat them to hell an’ back.” He was not shy about his confidence in his strength. After saying that, he flexed his right bicep to further prove his point. “After all, if a big kraken couldn’t beat me, no one can.”

Both Eliot and Zander rolled their eyes in response, but Eliot also had a smile of amusement on his face. Afterward, there was a few seconds of silence between them—the only things that could be heard was the sound of the old, roaring engine of the bus and the hushed conversations of the other passengers.

“So, what do you plan on doing now that we know this?” Eliot asked.

A bit confused by the question, Vincent responded, “What do ya mean? Nothing’s changed for me; ask the galaxy-brained bozo that’s between us.”

“Zander?”

Zander didn’t immediately answer. His eyes drifted downwards, visibly showing that he was in a state of deeper thought. Vincent had seen this demeanor from him a number of times in the past, most of them being from when he had to deal with things that he was not prepared for. In those moments, he would think extremely hard and quick—and those moments were far and few between.

With his eyes elevating back up, staring straight towards the front of the bus, Zander quietly, but confidently said, “For once, I’m going to have to agree with Vince. He’s the only one that I will ever voluntarily agree with.” He then paused and looked back at both Vincent and Eliot. “Anyways,” he shook his head, “what I'm trying to say is that there really is no point in deviating from our path now. I’m sure, Vince, when you proposed that we not change, your thinking was as follows: We are in Egypt, possibly surrounded by some Resonators, and our best chance at defending ourselves would be with the information we can learn from the next obelisk. And with that, there are no better alternatives, like running away, seeing as our only way back home was sunk. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t really find any faults with that argument, and I’m a bit disappointed in myself for not thinking of that first.”

“Yeah, sure,” Vincent responded, not understanding a word that Zander said.

Again, there was a bit of silence before anyone else answered. However, Eliot spoke up with a bit more confidence in his voice. “Well then, let’s do this. I’m sure we can do anything if you two are on the same wavelength! Isn’t that right, Vince?”

“Hell yeah!” Vincent exclaimed out loud. “Things are about to get fun as hell. Ain’t that right, Zander?”

“Why is everything a game to you?” Zander sighed.

“Oh shut the hell up, don’t act like you don’t see everything and anything as a game too, waiting to be played and beaten by you,” Vincent quickly responded, adding a bit of genuine sarcasm and cockiness to his voice.

“Fair enough,” Zander laughed, “you got me there.” He then seemed to look around and smile for a second. “Well, let’s just relax for now and think about some possible scenarios we could encounter. After all, we really have no idea what awaits us in Cairo.”

***

After what seemed like an hour or so, Vincent finally began to notice a shift in the scenery outside the bus. For a majority of the bus ride, he had just stared out the window, hopelessly searching the empty expanse of the sandy, dry deserts of Egypt. The only thing that was worth looking at once he got out of the city was the occasional stray shrub of vegetation that somehow, despite all odds, managed to stay alive out in such a cruel and harsh world. Besides that, there was nothing out there. An absolutely baron view.

Still, this gave him even more time to actually sit and reflect on what had happened to him up until that point. It was weird, even though things were the strangest and, albeit a little twisted, the most fun they had been in a while, he had more time than ever to just sit and think—something he had never had the chance to do. It was something he never really wanted to do. Just like the walk up to the bus, something from below was tugging at him, and it infuriated him that he couldn’t control it to any extent.

That being said, that feeling of unease was almost completely gone, so he just decided to ignore it. Something that he couldn’t ignore was the occasional building that passed by the bus. For over an hour and a half, buildings were something he could only dream of seeing, and now, they were finally starting to make an appearance again. Even though he should’ve been happier to finally see signs of civilization, something about the empty expanse behind him resonated with him on a certain level—almost to the extent where he longed to go back.

But before he could really finish that thought, a sudden, newly familiar voice dragged him out of his mind’s lull.

“Attention, this is the driver speaking,” the voice said. Vincent, now out of his prolonged dazed, recognized the voice as the driver speaking over the intercom. “We are now approaching Cairo; this is the last stop, so any and all passengers must depart the bus. Thank you.” The voice then began to speak in a language that Vincent had only scarcely heard from some of the Egyptian people he occasionally overheard on the bus.

Welp, Vincent thought, it's go time.

***

After leaving the bus, the group of friends found themselves in the middle of a sea of people. Vincent had never seen anything quite like it; the bus had stopped in the middle of the road and people were just casually walking around it and in the middle of the streets. No police officers were yelling at people for randomly crossing the road. As a matter of fact, it seemed like that was the expected and accepted thing to do.

Another thing that Vincent couldn’t help but notice was the sheer amount of noise. The dozens, if not hundreds of voices all talking simultaneously, the symphony of car horns that seemed to honk in sporadic intervals, and the many bizarre sounds intrigued him.

That being said, those things only held his attention for a small amount of time. Within a few seconds of taking in the atmosphere, he began to push his way through the sea of people in a random direction. He didn’t bother to see if his friends were following him or not; mainly because he forgot about them until he was already partway into the current.

As he swam his way across the sea of strangers, Vincent eventually made it to a sidewalk that gave him some breathing room.

With this kind of space, Vincent thought, it’ll be a piece of cake to look for them.

Looking around, he saw a few vendors selling whatever they had on their carts. Their carts had many different kinds of fruits, foods, souvenirs, and whatever else one could possibly sell. A lot of the foods were foreign to Vincent and none of the knick-knacks looked even remotely interesting, which disappointed him a bit.

He then decided to look around some more to try and find something that looked even the least bit interesting. He grabbed a nearby wooden crate, flipped it over, and stood on top of it. With his newly found vantage point, he scanned his nearby surroundings in hopes to find what he was looking for.

Among the swarm of people, cars, and vendors that flooded the streets, there was one single thing that stood out to him: a man in purple robes, adorned in some kind of shining jewelry. The man was calmly sitting at a table—which was also draped in a matching, purple cloth—on the other side of the street. He was holding a young woman's hand and slyly, but subtly moving about while he talked to her.

That was it. He knew that he had to go over and take a look. That whole scene reminded him of an important NPC interaction or something like that. His interest was immediately peaked, and he forgot about everything else he was looking for.

He casually jumped off the crate and moved in the direction of the mysterious man. Vincent didn’t pay any attention to the people that he was pushing and maneuvering around, all he wanted was to see what the deal was with that one guy.

It took him a minute or two, but he eventually ended up on the other side of the road, right in front of the table. When he got there, the woman who had been talking to the man just started to walk away from the table.

Looking at the table, he saw a sign that was written in English. On it said Come one, come all! Get a glimpse into the infinite possibility of your fate for only 150 Egyptian Pounds! This was the best-case scenario for him. Vincent had never had his fortune read before and he was excited to see if there truly was something for him in the future. He hoped that there would finally be something to look forward to.

He then walked up to the table, slapped an unknown amount of cash on it, and said, “Hit me with whatcha got.”

He could see the fate-telling man more clearly now. The man was of obvious Egyptian descent, with his beautiful, deeply tanned skin and his long, flowing black hair that tumbled an inch or so above his shoulders. Around his entire body, there was jewelry hanging from every possible place. Every finger had at least one ring on it, each ear had many jeweled earrings dangling from them, and there were many sparkling chains hanging from his neck. The man’s smile was warm and mysterious, and his body movements seemed free and fluid—much different from the rehearsed gestures that Vincent was expecting.

“An excited seeker of the Ethereal, hmm?” the man excitedly asked, exaggerating every tiny movement. “Well look no further,” he said, his hands rubbing the crystal ball at the center of the table, “for all of your secrets, past and future, will be revealed. There is nothing in your fate that can hide from the seer, Cowol Jarr Wan.”

Cowol’s smile was somehow shining with every word that flowed out of his mouth. His loose and flowing robes moved alongside every move he made, creating an enchanting dance of sorts.

Finally, Cowol suddenly stopped all movement, placed both hands firmly on the crystal ball, and stood eerily still. He then slowly looked up and into Vincent’s eyes. As Vincent gazed back into them, he could swear that Cowol’s blue eyes glazed over and began to shimmer and sparkle.

As he went deeper and deeper into his eyes, Vincent suddenly felt as if he was somewhere else. He didn’t necessarily see anything different or hear anything out of the ordinary, but rather, he felt as if he went somewhere simultaneously foreign and familiar. This place confused and excited him and he didn’t break the invisible connection that he felt forming between him and the being behind the blue eyes—although he wasn’t even sure if he could break it if he wanted to.

In the back of his head, Vincent felt a small and fleeting sense of surprise and slight confusion. That being said, he didn’t feel that that feeling originated from him; it felt as if it came from a strange direction and he just happened to sense it. But that wasn’t right either, because how could he feel a feeling that wasn’t his own? Before he could process that thought, new thoughts and words began to quietly bounce around his head.

“Threads…” a whispery and mysterious voice said. “New…where...So many.”

Vincent swore he knew that voice, but it just couldn’t come to him.

“Nothing...everything,” the voice continued. The voice was becoming clearer and he could make out more and more of what was being said. “I’ve never seen something like this. Who is this? What is this?” The voice had a quality of anxiousness, slight panic, and fascination to it.

How do I know these things? Vincent thought. As if answering his question, suddenly the eyes that he had been staring into vanished and all that was left was black nothingness. Without hesitation, because this place seemed oddly familiar, he gazed further into the void. Further…further...deeper...more, more, more! What he saw didn’t change, but he felt that he was moving faster and faster.

Suddenly, the eyes were back...or were they? The eyes that he saw in front of him were different—they were brown.

Me? Vincent thought.

The moment that thought finished, he saw himself in front of him, fully dressed in the same attire. The Vincent in front of him cocked his head to the side and rubbed their fingers along their chin and lips. Their eyes seemed to look him up and down, and seemed to show signs of confusion. As a matter of fact, their whole body language screamed confusion.

“What is going on?” the other Vincent spoke. “Why are you—actually, why am I there? I’m even wearing the same, gorgeous clothes.”

“What are you talking about?” Vincent finally asked.

The other Vincent seemed a bit shocked upon hearing that. They took a step back and the rest of their body seemed to slightly jolt.

“So, you can talk, too? This is quite bizarre,” they said.

“You’re telling me, I didn’t expect to see myself just standin’ there,” Vincent replied.

“I would have to agree.” The other Vincent began to circle to the left.

In response, Vincent began to circle around the other Vincent in the opposite direction. That circling continued for a few seconds before they both stopped at the same time. For a second or two, they both stared at each other, not knowing what to do next. Finally, something compelled Vincent to move forward. When he did, he saw that the other him moved forward at the same time.

When they were at an arm’s length of each other, they both reached out a hand towards each other. Vincent reached out his right, while the other him reached out their left. The moment they touched, Vincent saw the other him begin to unravel. Starting from their left hand, they began to slowly turn into white, impossibly small strings. As he looked down at himself, he saw that he too was turning into similar strings.

Looking back up, there was nothing but white. He then felt his entire self, his entire consciousness lifted up and thrust forwards into the white. As he moved through the white, he realized that it wasn’t just white, but rather, everything around him were strings. Some strings were tangled together, some vibrated in place, some seemed to soar and go on forever, and some seemed to be cut short.

As he soared through those strings, some of the strings began to stitch together and briefly form shapes. Those shapes became more and more humanoid as Vincent kept going. Eventually, those humanoid shapes resembled people he knew—Zander, Eliot, Robert, and himself. In addition to them, there was also a figure that he did not recognize—a long-haired tall person, whose hair was in a ponytail that seemed to go a few inches or so past their shoulders.

Suddenly, all the strings around him began to move closer together, and tighten around each other. As they got tighter and tighter, he could see that their color began to shift and change. Eventually, the strings got so tight that it looked as if there was only one string there, and that string had a blood-red color to it.

As he looked closer at the single, red string, Vincent realized that the string went out into the infinite dark in front of him. He then traced the string backward, closer towards himself, and looked down to find that the string was connected to him, right where his heart is.

When he looked back up, he was suddenly back in front of Cowol’s table. On the other side of the table was a slightly sweating Cowol, sitting down in a chair. His entire demeanor was more serious and quieter than before. His eyes were focused on the ground and he didn’t move an inch.

After a few seconds of staring at him, Vincent’s eyes were finally met with Cowol’s. Cowol then jumped and sprang to his feet. His serious expression broke and his jovial persona from before was present.

“W-well then,” Cowol stuttered, “it seems that you have a fate unlike any other.”