PHOENIX

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙴𝙽 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝚄𝚃𝙴𝚂. Phoenix and Alysia had been walking towards Zamora's treetower far on the opposite side of the settlement. Along the way, kids, no older than twelve at least, were playing tag. Phoenix smiled. At first, it seemed ordinary—in fact, it brought him back to the old days when he'd play hide-and-seek in school—but once one of the children turned invisible, he recoiled, understanding that this wasn't the world he'd grown up in. When Phoenix crossed the bridge, the bustling and laughter stopped, and they all looked up at Phoenix with fixation, not saying a word.

  The kid who'd only recently turned invisible reappeared on the opposite side of the platform, equally curious. Either that or the kid hadn't expected someone without a uniform to walk alongside Alysia. Because maybe that meant she'd caught a bad guy, someone like the Shadow. But Phoenix, still smiling, greeted them. Again, silence.

  The skylight jabbed through a gaping cloud separation and pinned Phoenix under its powerful shine. He had to lift his hand to shield his eyes. The weather's wild. First, rain. Now, scorching sun. Crazy. I wonder how all that works.

  He snuck a glimpse at his hand to make sure he wasn't dreaming still. Yes, even after all this time, he wasn't entirely convinced. A small part of him—well, actually, quite a big part of him—believed he'd already died, and this was the afterlife. Or, there was a chance he was in a coma, hooked up on life support having liquids fed to him through plastic tubes. He still wasn't sure. Everything sure as hell felt real. The pain, the rain, the people, even. There was still so much to learn.

  After they crossed a couple more platforms, including the bar where Luke had been hoisting barrels of water with his blacksmithlike muscles, they approached Zamora' treetower, no doubt the largest among the Castle. Beyond it was a string of three bridges sloping into a separate platform on which resided two sets of steps leading up to a podium. This, Alysia had told him, was where the speeches were held, where everyone gathered to listen to Zamora, where everyone looked for guidance. It wasn't much different than a church chancel, only there was room to breathe, and no prayers were held.

  "Alysia." Phoenix interlocked his fingers through the dried-up jungle of his afro.

  "Yes?" Alysia continued walking, not turning back, crossarmed.

  "Do the people in the Castle think God is the enemy?"

  "Of course," said Alysia, and now she was looking back at him with those fiery eyes. "Well, I hate Him more than anything."

  "Why's that?" Phoenix's brow furrowed.

  "He took my father, my brother and sister, my family . . ." She spoke in equal parts of sadness and anger. "Everyone I loved. And for no reason, it seems."

  "I understand," said Phoenix glumly. He wanted to mention that perhaps God was not to blame, and that the evil of man was at fault. But, of course, not wanting to anger her, considering that he, too, had taken not one but two members from their own alliance, he decided against it. And besides, she was partially correct. God gave free will, and man used it to free the devil.

  "But I cannot speak for everyone. Believe what you want, but the man upstairs is a murderer. A heartless murderer." Now she was just angry.

  "I'm sorry," said Phoenix, and that was all. Because what else was there to say? Hey, better luck next time? No, she had a point, an irrefutable observation. In fact, Phoenix had thought something similar to this in the past. If God believed in good over evil, the right of mankind over the way of the devil, why did He allow war, cancer, bloodshed, violence? Humanity once told Phoenix that it was because of free will, but take away that free will and what do you have? Peace. Tranquillity above all else. This belief came to life during his aunt's funeral after she had been shot down in a protest against hover-cars. He sat there teary-eyed and wondering deeply about who would allow such a thing, looking up at the rainy sky as though it were his sworn enemy. You bastard, he whispered. I'll never forgive you. The umbrella did little to protect him.

  Alysia shook her head. "Not your fault. I'm just glad I came across Zamora when I did."

  "How did that happen?"

  "Well, I was with my father. We were only new."

  "Like me?"

  "Yes, like you. Only we didn't trust anyone."

  "Did you have to find your father?"

  "No, not exactly," answered Alysia coldly. "We were . . . we were together, in the same subdivision. Not right together, but no more than a block apart."

  "So you spawned in a city, too, I take it?"

  "Yeah. Yeah we did." Again: her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper jampacked with emotion.

  "So how did you meet Zamora? Did she find you?"

  "We got attacked by . . . some crazy people. At the time, I didn't even know how to use my power, so it was pretty damn scary. My father, he could control molecules."

  "Molecules? What do you mean?"

  "He could alter the state of objects. He could change metal to gas, gas to liquid, and so on. He could also create objects out of nothing." Like a shopping list, she recited each ability.

  "That sounds extremely powerful," said Phoenix curiously. He dropped his arms and tucked his left hand into his trouser pocket. "What else could he do?"

  "Kick ass, I suppose," said Alysia. "Even though we were new to the game—God, I hate using that word—my father . . . He killed all three of them. Watched them fade away into dust. All to . . . protect me." She stopped outside Zamora's front door. Her voice cold as ever, she added, "And Zamora came. Through a green portal. I'll never forget it, because my father wanted to kill her at first too, but she was too strong. He couldn't defeat her, and I thought I was going to lose him . . . But, she offered him a hand. Told us that she was never trying to fight. She wanted to help us.

  "And then, well, she took us into her keep. Told us everything about the game. All that. And we trusted her, still do."

  Phoenix nodded. "Has she stopped doing that since? Looking for people to join?"

  "Of course," Alysia said promptly. "She doesn't let just anyone join anymore, not after . . . not after Aaron Kessler."

  "Damn," said Phoenix blankly, brow still creased.

  "It's just an old story that I don't often share, so feel lucky. That's how you know I trust you. I'll tell you things, Levin. Or . . . Phoenix, I guess I should say."

  "Levin, Phoenix, what does it matter anyway?" He smiled.

  A laugh, very subtle. "I guess it doesn't, not unless you want people to know your true identity. And, it suits you." The slight wrinkles under her eyes coiled to insinuate that beneath her bandanna lay a smile.

  "Suppose so." Phoenix pursed his lips and nodded once again.

  "Yeah. Suppose so."

  Alysia shoved the door to the treetower. It creaked open crazily and they went upstairs. Zamora was sitting at her desk as usual, the dim blue fire of the candles casting long shadows across the wooden floorboard.

  She was in a sort of zen, a state of meditation, eyes shut completely, face without expression, silent as a mouse. A hologram, or whatever it was—magic, I guess—spiralled up, displaying images of different regions of the world. The first was the area Phoenix had just come from, the arena where he had battled against Chrono, the next was an icy forest with blue trees and ultraviolet grass. Then there was the urban sprawl that Phoenix had first encountered, and on the road were a pair of white clothes belonging to Eric and Sebastian. All at once, the images changed, each showcasing the same picture: Phoenix and Alysia. They were standing next to each other in Zamora's room.

  "You did well," said Zamora. "Chrono is finally . . . finally dead." She beamed.

  Phoenix stepped forward, and the floor groaned under his weight. "Did you find her?"

  A moment of quiet, and then Zamora opened her eyes. The hologram faded away. "Short answer: no, I haven't."

  "What?" Phoenix winced as if he had been struck by a lacerating whip. A knot of worry tied in his stomach. "But you said you could help me!" He was loud now, bordering on furious. He hurried up in front of her desk, eyes glowing blue.

  "I can," said Zamora calmly, steepling her fingers, "but I need time. And, as it turns out, we don't have a whole lot."

  Phoenix snorted. "What? What do you mean, we don't have much time? This place is practically infinite."

  "I thought so, too. But look—" She paused, raised her arm and opened her palm. Another image, this time rectangular and glowing with a blue background, emerged like a plume of vapour. It hovered delicately, presenting none but a few numbers:

2:00:03

  And beneath it had been a timer counting down at a heavy, ground-eating pace, almost the same as a regular everyday digital clock.

  Some sounds behind Phoenix. Alysia scrabbled. She said, "What is this?" with a sort of subdued panic.

  "A timer," said Zamora. "To be more specific: the end-date to the world. I've found it."

  Phoenix took a steadying breath. Okay, Phoenix, just relax. "What do those numbers mean? How long do we have?"

  She pointed up at the number at the top (2:00:03) and said, "The '2' represents the year, the '0s' the months, and the '3' the weeks. We have two years and three weeks to reach the end."

  An almost imperceptible pause, and then Alysia spoke: "But that can't be right! How do you know this?!"

  Zamora sighed. "I looked at the other divisions, the ones on the far edge. The rate at which the horizontal plane is decaying has increased tenfold." She conjured another yellow bubble. An image of an ocean showed up. The water whisked off into the air and disintegrated into black particles the very same as the ones that show when people die. Beyond it hovered an empty stream of space, with a deep red nebula dominating the darkness. After a moment, Zamora made a fist and the bubble vanished, along with the timer. "At about 375,000 miles across, we have but a year left to reach the Spiral."

  "Okay, but—" started Alysia.

  Zamora made a cut-off motion with her arm. "There are no buts. We have to reach the end, and reach it quickly."

  "The world is so large, how are we meant to do that?" asked Phoenix, inquisitive.

  Zamora sighed for a long moment. Silence swept through the room. Then, as if suddenly remembering something important, she said, "We have to move, we can't stay here forever. I have a plan already, but . . . It'll have to be executed more quickly in order for everyone to survive."

  "But what about the rules? There can only be one winner?"

  "That's not a rule, that's a statement," said Zamora. "Not everyone has to die, the paper even suggests this itself. If we are to all survive, we'll need to venture far into the horizon, use my portals to gain ground. We have to group with other alliances if we want to have a chance. The only issue is convincing them what I'm saying is true. There is great mistrust amongst pacts."

  "But wait, hold on a second"—Phoenix waved his hands in defiance, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them—"what about Alex? I'm not helping till I find her."

  "Well," said Zamora, "you will need to. I'm not even sure this Alex exists in this world. All I know is that my people need to get to the end, so if you're not willing to cooperate, then perhaps you are better off elsewhere." There was a sternness in her voice.

  Phoenix sighed. She's right. She might not be here at all. Am I a fool? Just because I had some stupid vision that mightn't mean anything?

  "Don't look so glum," said Zamora, "I will still look for her, just as promised. That deal still remains. Only now there are certain conditions, the time-limit, for one. Two years isn't a whole lot of time to work with. As you said, the world is astronomical. And there is far too much danger for even three-quarters of the Castle to make it through. That's why we need people like you, Levin, people like Alysia. People that can protect us. Do you understand?"

  Phoenix nodded reluctantly, staring.

  "Good. But, we need to trust each other as well. I will continue searching for Alex, and in the meantime, you will help me, you will help us reach the end. Okay?"

  By the time Zamora had finished the sentence, Phoenix already knew his answer. Without the Castle, he was effectively stranded. Without Alysia and Valerie, he was alone. Without Zamora, he had no leads.

  I can do this. I made it this far already. And now I have more than enough help.

  Nodding once again, he said, "I understand. And I agree to the conditions."

  "Splendid!" said Zamora, chipper. She stood up dramatically, her eyes closed at first, opening them slowly. A grin curved on her face. "Welcome to the Castle."