The safety glass in the sliding door shattered into a thousand tiny fragments — a downpour of crystal cornflakes. Having used all his weight to toss Derek, Arthur fell through after him, snarling like a mad dog.

CRUNCH!

Arthur landed on his back. Glass fragments tore through his shirt and pricked the skin all over his back. He rolled over, and scrambled to his feet — getting more shallow cuts on his hands and forearms as he did — cuts he didn’t care about. The pain was nothing compared to the anger surging through him.

Derek stood and gritted his teeth. Blood dripped from cuts on Derek’s cheek and hands. Arthur grinned. He was ready to fight; he wasn't running away this time. Nothing was going to keep him from beating the crap out of Derek. Sure, he'd never bested him before, but there had to be a first time, and this was going to be it.

Derek tensed his muscles and prepared to throw a punch, but then he spotted his iPhone lying on the deck — screen cracked — metal casing bent. Derek’s eyes boiled.

But Arthur's anger was greater — it burned like a primal force — as if a monster’s venom raced through him. All these years he had put up with Derek teasing him — tattling on him — beating him up … 

Arthur had endured more than enough.

He clenched his fists tight and stepped forward.

Grandma Nelson and Aunt Carolyn ran into the dining room. Aunt Carolyn's red face was bulging like a tomato in a microwave. Grandma Nelson’s face was expressionless, but her body was coiled like a spring. Her eyes burned with hellfire … and worse: disappointment. 

All the venomous anger spilled out of Arthur.

He’d gone too far. It was military school for him … if his grandma didn’t just toss him out on the street. Before Derek could focus on him again, before his aunt and grandma could close in, Arthur did the only thing he could think of: He fled down the steps and out into the backyard.

Derek screamed something obscene and took off after him.

Blood trickling down his arms and back, Arthur plunged into the woods behind Aunt Carolyn's house. The trees grew close there, especially down in the hollow. The leaves had turned but hadn't fallen yet, so there was still plenty of darkness to hide in. Arthur just needed to find a dark tangle of underbrush and wait until their tempers cooled. But first, he had to escape Derek, who was sprinting recklessly and gaining on him with every step.

Arthur hit a slick patch of mud and leaves, and as he slid out of control, Derek caught up to him.

Derek's fist popped against Arthur's jaw and sent him reeling. Head buzzing, Arthur tried to pick himself up, but Derek kicked him in the ribs and scored a direct hit on the device over Arthur's heart — 

CRACK!

The disc broke, and a shard tore through Arthur's skin and shirt. A short hiss followed, like helium from a punctured balloon.

Arthur rolled away, fought back tears, and clutched at his chest. Hot blood trickled out between his fingers. He tried to hold back his tears … to not show any weakness. He expected another attack, but Derek just stood there … like a statue … with its mouth hanging open. 

Was Derek even breathing? 

Something was wrong. Arthur got up onto his knees and glanced around, confused. The rest of the world around him seemed normal, though it was eerily quiet.

The air shimmered, and a young woman appeared — hovering in the air — shining radiantly. Arthur gaped stupidly and fell back onto his bottom. The woman was transparent, as if she were a hologram projected from … somewhere. Hauntingly beautiful, she had burnt-orange skin, slanting emerald eyes, a stirring dress of white silk, and flaming copper hair that fell past her shoulders and curled up on the ends. She looked … not quite human … like an angel, maybe. Her image flickered, as if the signal was barely getting through — maybe the reception was bad? 

Derek must’ve given him one super-nasty concussion. That was the only thing that could explain this.

The angelic girl faced Arthur and spoke. Each syllable of her mesmerizing voice was like the ringing of a clear bell. Unfortunately, most of her words didn’t make it through to him.

“Arthur Primus … at last … Lady Ylliara … Herald of the Aetheria.”

“Um … hello.” 

“Cloaking device … broken … fulfill your destiny … become … Multiversal Paladin.”

“You want me to become a … what?”

Her eyes flared like miniature supernovas. “You … not know?”

“I don't have a clue what you're talking about,” Arthur replied. “And your signal is weak.”

“Trans-Multiversal projection … outside Manse … vast amount of energy … quite …”

This was all absolutely insane, and Derek still wasn't moving. This couldn't be actually happening. It just couldn't.

“Are — are you real?” he asked, timidly.

“Of course. Manse … on its way … first you … answer the Call.”

“The Call?”

“Everyone … choice. You could … but … doom your universe and mine.”

“You need me to agree to become a … whatever it was you said. Is that it?”

“Yes,” she said, with a hint of desperation in her voice. “No others left.”

Regardless of how nonsensical this seemed, in his gut it felt real, more real than anything else in his life. And he knew — knew in his bones — that if he agreed to what she was asking, his whole life would change. A sudden panic gripped him … but that was what he wanted, wasn't it? A purpose. A meaning to his life. 

Maybe this was what he was missing.

Arthur shook his head. Keep your wits. Don't fall into the rabbit hole. You're just dazed. Probably knocked unconscious and dreaming.

Ylliara stared at him with a pleading expression that tugged her lips into a frown. “Please … desperately need … no others left …”

Well, what could it hurt to go along with a hallucination? 

“Okay, sure. I'll become the next … Multiversal Paladin.”

“You have … wisely … find the Manse.”

“The Manse?”

“Nearby … probably a cottage … only a few … away. Be careful … broken device … enemy can find … Interfacer assassins … warlocks … shades … every world … if they —”

Ylliara jerked her head up.

“Shades … already found … run … Arthur.”

“What?” he asked her.

“RUN NOW!”

Ylliara vanished. Derek shook his head and blinked his eyes, as if he had been in a trance. He stepped awkwardly toward Arthur, but then stopped and squawked out something unintelligible as he stared off to his right. 

Scrambling to his feet, Arthur followed Derek's gaze … and then understood his fear.

Shadow men! Five ahead and six more to the left — as dark as starless night and shaped like skinny men with absurdly long necks, arms, and legs — but without eyes or clothes or faces. They had no features at all! Then Arthur began to feel them, or rather, he felt … nothing … complete emptiness, as if all the emotions he had ever felt, from anger to laughter, had drained away, while all the colors of the world faded. 

The woods fell silent and turned winter-cold. 

Arthur shook his head and let the breath that was caught in his lungs out with a whoosh. The daze cleared as he began to breathe deeply. He still felt the shades’ presence, but not nearly as intensely. Arthur knew now, without doubt, that they were real. Not a prank, not a hallucination — real. 

Derek had fallen under their spell, too. Arthur reached out and touched his shoulder. Startled, Derek nearly jumped. The spell on him was broken now.

“What — what are those things?”

“Shadow men,” Arthur responded. “Shades. Demons maybe. I dunno.”

Derek shuddered. “Do you feel them? The way —”

“Yeah, I feel it.”

The shades headed toward them.

Arthur glanced around. Behind them, the ground sloped down towards the hollow. It was rough, rocky terrain with lots of briars and underbrush, but he didn't see any shadow men in that direction.

“This way! RUN!”

Arthur and Derek plunged into the depths of the forest, leapt over stumps, twisted through vines and briars, ducked under low-hanging limbs, and splashed through streamlets and puddles. But every time they glanced back, the shades were there, giving chase. Which was weird, because the shades moved languidly, as if they were only jogging. However, they slid over and around obstacles like water flowing over rocks. Nothing actually got in their way; their speed never changed. Arthur and Derek just couldn’t shake them. Eventually, they were going to tire out, and Arthur had a feeling the shades would never quit coming.

Arthur leapt over a fallen tree, stumbled out of control as he dodged a big, jagged rock on the other side, and continued on. Derek was a step behind him, right on his heels until — 

“OOF!” Derek sputtered, followed by a crash — then a cry of pain.

Arthur ran a few more steps before he realized Derek hadn’t gotten up and wasn't following anymore. He turned back. Derek was clutching his leg and rolling around on the ground just beyond the fallen tree. He had struck the rock Arthur had narrowly dodged.

The shadow men closed in.

Even if Arthur could reach Derek in time, he wasn't certain how he'd get him away. Derek wasn't going to be running, or walking, anywhere. His foot was twisted out at a sharp, unnatural angle; his ankle had snapped.

Derek crawled toward Arthur, desperately glancing back at the shades. He stopped when he saw them coming over the fallen tree. Arthur was still heading toward him; he would get there a moment before the shades. 

Grimacing in pain, Derek shook his head. “Go!”

Arthur hesitated. His eyes met Derek’s. Arthur wanted to say, “I'm sorry.”

There was no time.

Arthur launched into a sprint. He didn't head down into the hollow as before, but around its edge and up along a slight hill. He hoped he could work his way around the shades and get back up to the houses on the cul-de-sac. He had to get help.

Derek screamed — one sharp burst that cut off suddenly — then there was nothing but silence.