***

“For those frantically tuning in: due to the unique and unprecedented nature of this situation—any and all information is scrambled and has to be verified one at a time! Tabitha Morrow is currently within hospital stay and some sources say that she is a target in these supernatural attacks, therefore caused this miasma of disinformation—as well as the lockdown of Extant and Shift Research Centers! So are in the dark and are only relaying the action as it unfolds—we do not have the answers! We repeat, we do not have the answers—”

And that was the last of the LKDN stream, the most trusted news station on the island, instantly being taken out due to the overload of onlookers.

With a shaking hand, River swiped towards another stream on her old laptop, trying to steady her hand with another trembling one.

“—Like I said, this is it… No sunshine that’ll break through the clouds, no rainbow when everything is done. Like my god, people like me—we just, we just turned our heads to the other side and dismissed all of this as some confusing mismash that never concerned—that’s my whole life, huh? Never getting that something is ending until it’s gone. I guess you can add that stuff to the beginning of the footage, for the person who finds this tape…”

The anchorwoman was slumped in her chair, black hair disheveled, once pretty dress worn and sweaty. She was just looking at the desk, which has two vacant seats behind it and scattered pieces of once everyday items discarded in a hurry. Everything was in a shade, bulletins left blank and as she rambled on, the sound mixing came in and out.

As if she really is the last one left in the building and is choosing to stay. Choosing her grave.

Another swipe, River panting audibly as she tried in vain to wipe the sweat brewing across her forehead.

“J-JERRY—WE NOW HAVE EYE WITNESS REPORTS—AB—AB—BASED ON THE ORIGINS OF HOW THIS WHOLE MESS WAS STARTED! A WOMAN CLAIMED THAT SHE SAW N’ATURAL SAVAGE—EXCUSE ME—AS SHE SWIPED AT THE YOUNG MAN WITH SHADOW POWERS—AND HE THEN TACKLED HER INTO A LOCAL DINER—”

The old man was simmering, spattering, and steaming. His suit flung on his seat, pointing to the floating screen of footage. While River was sweating, this man was drenched in it, his dress shirt becoming undone due to the amount. Already balding, his hair at his sides were frizzled in different directions, his wild eyes were bloodshot, and his face was covered in bulging veins.

He cannot keep up with the sensory overload and he knows this. So he’s doing it as much as he can.

“—ENOUGH OF SPECTULATION, WE HAVE FOOTAGE NOW OF THE TWO—IT’S AT THE POINT THAT THEY’RE GLIDING WITHIN THE STATIC AIR ITSELF—AS IF THEY’RE DISEMBODIED SPECTERS, JERRY—AND AS THEY CONTINUE TO CLASH—KEEP DOING THESE IMPOSSIBLE THINGS IN RAPID SUCCESSI—OH MY GOD, DID YOU SEE THAT?! N’ATURAL HAS CRASHED INTO AN APARTMENT COMPLEX AND HAS JUST LEAP OUT, AS IF IT WERE NOTHING! NOW THE PART WHERE SHE FELL—LUMINOUS HILLS! IT’S SOME NIGHTMARE—WE HAVE A TREND INCIDENT—A SIVIS INCIDENT—A NULGARRT INCIDENT—AND A REGULAR SHIFT INCIDENT ROLLED INTO ONE, HOW CAN WE POSSIBLY—HOW—HOW—HOW—”

Then, his voice gave out. Swallowed by silence. Telling silence.

He just stared, up at the screen, for what felt like hours compressed into 4 seconds. He then turned towards the camera.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen in my damn life, Jerry.”

Without warning, he collapsed where he stood. Causing most of the staff that were left, scrambling ontop of each other.

River just exited the News Live Feed all together, and went back to her precious forum.

It itself, a whole front page with threads being made on the spot. Mods not available, either resigning or simply not being there, the site owner themselves “starting at a wall” and “can’t bring sanity to the place because [they’re] losing theirs”.

But more importantly for River, this is her going back to square one. Being so freaked out by this, being awoken to panic, “forced”  out of her “sanctuary” to find if someone, anyone, could withstand all thing and tell everyone that things aren’t alright, and in extreme detail.

The terrible symptom of handling and sharing Shift information is some sort of sensory overlord mixed some mummy’s curse—raw and constant, the more likely people will get overwhelmed. Without Tabby getting the facts from Extant, who then tells her to rely as much as she can with the news groups—and this is what happens. Pure and distilled madness.

River then lowered her head, putting her fingers in her fucked, grimy hair. She knew that she had nothing to really worry about.

Her side of the city appears to be the least effected, the problems so literally far away, she could’ve avoided this pity party entirely and do what her family’s doing, waiting for their tunnel to open. But no. Once again, she had to make everything worse for herself. All in her weird mating dance of self-effacing and egotism.

So, she went on to do what she always did. Doomscroll on various websites as she unravels.

She was looking at the recent forum threads—caps of photos and one line sentences.

But of those photos caught her eye.

She saw a familiar red shade of hair, despite the grime and messy state it’s in.

It was a crowd photo, people heading for Steppe Ave, and it was Tracy among that bunch. The blurb, it talked about how people are chancing it, going there despite the Trends battling there.

Tracy. Trying to do something.

River lowered her hands, and rested her balled up fists on the laptop’s empty areas.

If only she could get over herself, like they would.

But, as the minutes dragged on… She begun thinking that maybe she doesn’t have to.

She quickly made a thread herself. She knew, both as a semi-poster and part-time lurker, that people won’t know who the hell she is. But that isn’t important.

If she really is throwaway, useless… Then she can be a throwaway Tabby.

As she titled the threat: “Live play-by-play of Steppe Ave”, she closed her laptop, and grabbed her shoes and bag. While putting on said shoes, she noted how she doesn’t… Well, lose anything when she becomes steam. Making any reservations of possibly sneaking by irrelevant.

At least it’s going to be fully her fault. Not theirs. Never theirs.

SLIPSTEAM

With that, she floated out of her room, through the closed windows somehow, phasing down to the streets and landing solid.

And as soon as she landed, she winced, feeling the otherworldly pain.

She lifted up her sweater, seeing cracks form across her stomach.

River scoffed at herself, that she’s breaking apart due to some “stress”. Nothing definable, nothing understandable.

It didn’t matter, anyways.

SLIPSTEAM

She began to jump in the air, even gliding a tad before coming down again, so she could save time going towards Steppe Ave—to aid everyone she can.

Too bad she could enjoy, the idea of that.

                                                                                                                          ***