Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck!

You sure like that word, the star observes.

This isn’t real. Those voices weren’t actually my coworkers. This has got to be some kind of dream. Some drug-induced delusion. The pressure—that’s it! The pressure from starring in my first gig got to me, and I snapped.

Because I can’t actually be dead. I’m not even thirty. I never found my soulmate. I never got to see India or the Eiffel Tower or the inside of the Playboy Mansion! And my show—

My show is as dead as me. Dead as my career. Dead dead dead.

It’s not fair, I moan. I’d barely started living!

Oh, don’t be like that, the star says. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think!

What do you know? I sulk. You’re just a star.

The star laughs. What are you talking about? I’m not a star, I’m an elf.

An elf? The unexpected comment briefly derails me from my misery, but I don’t let it distract me long.

Sure, I say, sinking back into my despair. And I’m a dwarf.

Are you? The star sounds curious. Where abouts? My neighbors are dwarves—the Brookbanks. Heard they come from quite an extended family. Always talking about their cousin’s kid’s husband’s sister’s cooking. Maybe that’s why they moved out into the country. Can be a bit grouchy, but they mean well.

The conversation is so absurd it almost helps me forget about my own untimely demise. You’re serious?

Of course I am, the star says. Sorry, am I rambling? Rezira always tells me I ramble, but given our circumstances I don’t suppose there’s much else to do.

If I had a head, I would shake it. Nothing makes any sense. None of this feels real. Maybe I’m still on the floor of the studio, experiencing some final fit of delusion as my neurons fritz out, firing their last desperate signals into oblivion.

You know I’m not actually a dwarf, right? I ask.

All I really know about you is that you seem extremely confused, the star says.

I suppose that’s fair. I’m a human, I say. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to explain. I just feel like crawling in a hole and never coming out again. My name’s Kanin. Kanin Reed.

Nice to meet you, Kanin! The star is far more chipper than any disembodied maybe-dead entity has any right to be. I’m Noli Nettlebane.

Noli the elf, who looks very much like a star. Sure. Why not?

So how’d you die? I ask glumly.

Noli chuckles. Now that I’m focusing, Noli’s voice seems to take on a feminine tone. I sure hope that telepad didn’t kill me. I’m just stuck between two places. You really think you’re dead?

I try to summon up the last sights I can recall: Doug pushing me toward the edge, me tripping over the gun. The fall was all wrong. My head wasn’t tucked. And was I even still aiming for the padding? I can’t remember. God, it had happened so fast.

But really? Tripping on a prop? I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t so sad.

Yeah, I sigh. Pretty sure.

I’m sorry, she says, and I feel a wave of sympathy emanate from her. Well, at least you’ve got me to keep you company before you pass on to the afterlife. Right?

I pause. You mean this isn’t the afterlife?

Gods no! Noli laughs. I mean, it’s not what I think the afterlife is supposed to look like. Is this what you were expecting?

I guess not, I agree. But I’d never really known what to expect—not completely. Heaven? Hell? Something else entirely? I had sort of figured no religion got it 100%, but most had gotten it at least a little right. This, though. This seems like oblivion.

I nervously edge closer to Noli. You don’t really seem too bothered by any of this.

I get the impression of a mental shrug from her. It’s then I realize I’m not even hearing her words, exactly, so much as understanding her intent. It’s impressions more than sounds; like her thoughts are getting beamed straight into my head. I try to wrap my mind around how exactly we’re communicating, but the more I try to focus, the more dizzying the idea becomes.

Maybe best to just roll with punches for now.

I’m not too worried, she says. I know we’ll find a way out of this trap some way or another!

Trap? I repeat. I thought you said this was, uh, Between? And even if that’s true, why am I here instead of… Dead. I shiver, shaking the word off. …Wherever I’m supposed to be?

Great questions! Her words spark with delight. And you’re right. Normally, if you really did die, you shouldn’t be able to remain here. Well, technically I shouldn’t either. The point is, this place is supposed to be a transitory state.

Noli drifts away. Instinctively, I reach to follow, and surprisingly, I do. It’s hard to say how I can tell I’m moving without any reference points—like trying to distinguish shadows in the dark—but somehow I can tell there’s motion, movement, and it’s propelled by my will.

Here, she says. Can you feel it?

Feel what? But even as I ask, I can sense something manifest in the black. A tingling sensation, a numbness. And as I drift closer, the feeling amplifies into discomfort, and then into—Ah!

Careful! Noli cries. Don’t go poking your fingers in the flame, now.

Thanks for the heads up, I grumble.

But the jolt of pain vanishes as quickly as it came, and I tentatively try to examine it once more. It’s like a wall of electricity. Crackling nothingness. I follow it in one direction, keeping carefully away from its burning touch, but it doesn’t seem to end.

What is it?

What indeed? Noli muses. Some kind of planar magic, that’s for sure.

Magic, I repeat with a laugh. But Noli isn’t joking. Of course she’s not. She’s an elf. From a world with dwarfs and teleportation pads. Yeah. Okay.

Realizing the futility of remaining skeptical, I decide to lean into the absurdity. Magic created this… barrier?

Seems like, Noli says, either unaware of my bafflement or choosing to ignore it. It must be incredibly powerful to reach Between. Not to mention, to be able to last here for any amount of time.

Well, we haven’t been here that long, I say. It’s been… Wait. How long has it been? We can’t have been talking for more than a handful of minutes. But how much time passed before I found Noli? Seconds? No, that doesn’t feel right. Hours? Just like trying to understand how Noli and I can talk, the more I try to focus on how long I’ve been in this place, the more the very concept of time seems to slip away.

No sense in trying to make sense of time outside of time, Noli says. But that’s beside the point. Here, it’ll be easier for you to understand if you experience it yourself. Take a spin about the place.

The idea of striking out into the void by myself sets all kinds of alarm bells ringing in my head. What if I can’t find you again?

You will, she says, and there’s a tinge of resignation to her assurance. Trust me.

I’m not entirely sure I do, but on the other hand, what is there to lose? I’m already dead. Hesitantly, I move along the wall of magic, and Noli’s presence grows distant. But it doesn’t vanish. In fact, as I move, I notice a peculiar development taking place. First she’s behind me, then to my side, then, eventually, in front of me once more. I pause, then strike out in a different direction. But the barrier inevitably takes me circling back to where I started. And it’s like this in every direction.

We’re trapped, I realize. Stuck inside some kind of sphere.

I feel Noli’s agreement. This spell’s keeping us stuck Between. Tucked away in a little pocket of nothingness. And as long the spell keeps going, we’ll be kept from where we should be going.

How’d we even get in here? I wonder. Why just us?

I’m not sure, Noli says, but I can speculate.

The gravity of her tone is not filling me with much confidence that her speculation will be to our benefit.

My hometown was on the coast, she says. Fishermen abound. Visitors would come and fish with hooks, but all us locals—we used nets. Hooks just catch one fish at a time. You have to lure them in. But nets could be used on a whole school. You’d cast them out and draw them up as fast as you could. Most of the fish would dart away, but you’d always manage to snag a few unlucky ones.

I don’t like where this metaphor is headed. You think someone cast their net Between to catch us?

Maybe not to catch us, specifically, Noli says. But they happened to cast their net at the exact moment we were moving Between. A moment earlier or later, and it might have been someone else. We’re the unlucky fish.

The wide, open dark suddenly seems a lot more close and claustrophobic. And what’ll happen when the fisherman pulls in their net?

For the first time Noli feels serious, and I don’t like it one bit. Guess we’ll be learning that together.

Oh, hell no. We have to get out of here! I race back along the invisible wall of static. There’s got to be some way out. If someone can make it, then someone can break it, right?

Noli doesn’t try to stop me. I’ve already looked, I’m afraid. There’s no way out. But hey! Her enthusiasm bubbles back up once more. Maybe someone from the outside will help us?

Well we can’t just sit around and wait for that, I say. If this is a trap, then the person who made it wouldn’t have anything good planned for us, would they?

Maybe, Noli says. Or maybe I have this all wrong! No sense in assuming the worst, right? But… are you sure you want out? she asks. Even if we could escape, it’s the only thing keeping us Between. Without it, I’ll be back on my way to Miasmere. And you…

…I’ll be dead. For real dead. On my way to… whatever happens after this. And maybe if I had any idea what that entailed, it would seem less scary. Paradise, if I’m lucky. If I’m not…

Right at this moment, I don’t particularly feel like much of a gambling man.

Anyway, Noli says, no sense in panicking over something we can’t control. Unless you’ve got some very interesting spells tucked up your sleeve, we’re stuck.

Spells. Magic. The words don’t seem as absurd as they should. I guess once you’ve faced your own death, everything else becomes easier to swallow.

Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. Or maybe this is the frying pan, and out there is all the fire, just waiting for me to slip out.

On the bright side, I don’t see how anything could get any worse.

Tremors echo through the darkness.

Some… thing… ripples through the black. Distant, outside of our little bubble, but I can still sense it clearly. Instead of Noli’s curiosity and friendliness, however, it radiates only hunger. It’s so intense, I feel it as if it’s my own.

What is that? I ask, hushed. As far as I can tell, it hasn’t noticed us yet, and I intend to keep it that way.

Noli doesn’t reply. When I turn my attention back to her, she seems smaller. Less noticeable. Like she’s no longer broadcasting her thoughts.

Noli? I drift closer.

Hush. Her thoughts are barely a whisper. But even muted, I can sense her fear, and that scares me more than the creature in the dark. Being stuck in this infinite black without a body or any control over the situation hadn’t even fazed her, but this creature has her scared stiff. Rein it in.

I’m not sure I really know how to do that, but the creature in the dark doesn’t make it hard to shrink back. What is it? I ask again.

I don’t know, she admits. There shouldn’t be anything out there. Nothing should be able to live Between.

Maybe it’s stuck, like us? I suggest. But that doesn’t feel right. It’s drifting silently through the black, without fear or restraint. It’s searching. Hungry.

A predator.

Claustrophobia is replaced by vertigo as my perspective of this place abruptly shifts. We’re not just stuck in some tiny trap: We’re a fishbowl cast into the ocean. Surrounded by unfathomable depths. And though dark, the surrounding waters aren’t nearly as empty as they first appeared.

Another tinge of motion radiates through the dark, this time much closer. I don’t quite understand what it is until I feel Noli’s sliver of apprehension. It slips from her like a crack in a mask.

Time’s up, she says.

The space around us shivers, and I realize this new sensation isn’t due to the predator; our line’s being reeled back in.

Think there’s any possibility I’ll go back? I ask, nervously edging away from our constricting net. Instead of… you know. Moving on?

I don’t know, Noli says, but there’s doubt in her tone.

Waking up on the studio floor with a broken neck doesn’t seem terribly enticing. But my other options are the afterlife, an encounter with that predator, or wherever this fishing net is taking me. I’m not terribly stoked about any of these options.

Our cage draws tighter. There’s a sensation of motion now, of some inevitable outcome fast approaching.

Do you believe in an afterlife? I ask Noli. I don’t give her a chance to say no. What’s yours like?

It’ll be alright, Kanin, she says, which I think is about the worst possible thing she could have chosen to say. When is it ever alright when someone says that?

Maybe we could pull back against the net. Find some way to stay here a bit longer. I try to ground myself in place, but as our magical enclosure pulls closer around me, I chicken out and shy away from the encroaching pain at the last second. Sweeping my awareness around our prison, I desperately search for some hole I’d missed before. I mean, we’ve been alright this long, haven’t we? What’s a few more hours spent in an infinite abyss?

Kanin—

It’s not like time really passes here, right? I continue to ramble. I’m not ready. I need more time. A minute. A day. All the same, here. I couldn’t even tell you how long it’s been since—

Kanin! Watch out!

The wall of our prison slams into me in an electrifying jolt. I jerk away, but the net is thrashing about, making it almost impossible to avoid. Hunger presses in at me from all sides—excitement—anticipation—malice. The predator clamps down around us, and I can feel the walls of our prison creaking beneath its will.

Suddenly, getting the fuck out of here seems like a great idea.

Never mind! I press toward the other end of the net, as far away from the creature in the dark as I can manage. Reel, fisherman, reel!

We’re almost there, Noli says.

Our cage cracks, and eager hunger spills in.

At the same time, I can feel we’re on the brink of something real—on the brink of space, and time, and light.

Shadows tear through our enclosure. They crash into the walls and ricochet about, greedily snatching for anything they can sink their claws into.

Warmth. For the first time in what seems like an eternity, sensations begin to flood into me. The Between stretches away—I’m falling back into reality. In just another moment, we’ll have escaped the predator.

A spear of darkness stabs into me. And it’s not like getting stabbed in the flesh; it’s nothing as insignificant as physical pain. It stabs into my soul—into the very core of who I am—and every inch of me screams.

The darkness evaporates away, but a cold agony stays with me. I’m enveloped by sights and sounds and a gentle softness, but I can only concentrate on that sharp pain in my mind, a tension in my soul, of a retreating hunger, growing more distant—

The agony dulls to an ache. Slowly, I’m able to register my surroundings. Colors swim around me, out of focus. Sounds seem to echo down a distant hall. Warmth spills over me. It’s physical. It’s real. The darkness is gone.

I would sigh with relief if I weren’t so exhausted. I feel like I’ve been shredded apart and stuck back together again, one atom at a time.

[New presence recognized. System Compatibility: Accepted.]

Noli? I groggily call. The voice is feminine, yet stiff and artificial—nothing like Noli’s bubbliness. And I don’t sense her mind anywhere anymore. Then again, I no longer sense the predator either. I’m back in my own solitary head. Alone.

[Processing role.]

Or maybe not. Hello? I try to call. But the voice doesn’t seem to be listening. I can’t even tell where it’s coming from. Summoning all of my strength, I try to bring my surroundings into focus, and my efforts are rewarded as shapes and sounds begin to take meaning.

Hah! I’m alive again! Not whisked off to the afterlife after all. Take that, Noli. I will myself to move, and I’m rewarded with a small rocking motion. That’s okay. Baby steps.

[Designation acquired.]

Abruptly, words spill out over my vision, imprinting on my mind.

[Name: Kanin Reed]

[Gender: Male]

[Age: 28]

[Weight—]

What the fuck is this? What is happening? There’s dozens of lines, filling my vision and mind with strange words and lists of numbers until I can’t see or think or hear anything else. It’s too much—too much to understand—

[Abbreviating stats,] the voice says. Most of the words vanish, and the list repopulates, much shorter this time.

[Name: Kanin]

[Species: N/A]

[Class: None]

[Level: 1]

[HP: 10/10]

[Mana: 10/10]

[Void: 1%]

What the hell? What is all this? I try to blink the words away, but I discover two things at once.

First, I don’t have eyes, and therefore cannot blink. Second, no one is actually speaking to me: The words are all in my head.

But the weird mind-voice isn’t done with me yet.

[Role: Homunculus]