Chapter Thirty-Six
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PHOENIX

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙱𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴. A ripple of laughter swept the crowd and they all diverged into the Castle. A couple people greeted Phoenix more passionately, thanking him for his help, even though he didn't think he'd done all that much. Yes, he killed Chrono, and, yes, he helped—emphasis on helped—kill Shadow, but he sure as hell didn't want to do anything like that again, even if it was inevitable.

  Phoenix had been standing next to Alysia, leaning on the balustrade as normal, gazing out into the tarn. The Spiral wobbled as a hazy reflection among the blue-grey reaches of the peaceful, unregarded water. His arms crossed evenly, either elbow clutched beneath the palms, and his hair slumped over his ears on account of the drizzle. It cleared up sometime after Zamora's speech ended, he was never sure when exactly, and a small part of him thought that it never would end.

  Zamora came down from the podium when everyone left the centre platform, carrying a soft-hearted smile, one that was neither entirely sincere nor entirely unreal; it was the right amount of both.

  Phoenix looked back with those blue-tinted eyes, the Spiral light casting a finger across the irises. "I didn't expect that." He turned to face her fully now, and Alysia did, too. "Did you plan it?"

  "Hope is a powerful thing, Levin," said Zamora. "Of course I planned it."

  Then, as if suddenly remembering the answer to a timed question, he asked, "Anything about Alex?"

  She shook her head. "Not as of yet, no. You're going to have to wait a bit more before any of that. What's important is that we create peace between other alliances and work together to reach the Spiral. I will, of course, help you find her. You still have my word."

  There was a little doubt in Phoenix, doubt that existed in his stomach like a wave of nausea that only got worse with more movement, with each turn, with each breath. Still, he couldn't help but trust her. There was so much peace here at the Castle, so many happy faces and stories. Valerie was one of them, Alysia was another. And that was barely scratching the surface. But he understood, like how one understands they were wrong about something given enough time and reflection, that this was a safe place to be, and Zamora no doubt knew what she was doing.

  He sighed, if not with relief, then with tiredness. He rubbed his eyes partially and stifled a yawn. "Thanks again. I just hope she's okay."

  "I'll be able to tell you that, don't you worry. Now, are you ready to leave?"

  "Ready to leave? Um . . ." He glanced over at Alysia with a gaping mouth, unsure of what to say.

  "We are." Alysia nodded, her arms tightly folded. "The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can gather everyone and head south towards the Spiral."

  Phoenix cut in: "I'm still not sure about this alliance. The name? What is it? Who are its people?"

  Zamora steepled her fingers, her eyes slightly downcast, ashamed and reluctant to answer by the look of it. She sighed and confided, "Well, if you truly must know, I must tell you. It would be foolhardy of me to set you out on a task wherein you are not prepared or educated on what to expect, after all."

  Yeah it would, he wanted to say, but instead gave an agreeable nod, and Alysia did the same.

  "But first . . ." She raised her arm and formed a large green portal behind her. ". . . I think it's better if we discuss things in private, don't you think, hm?" That enigmatic smile came back, and now it had a soothing sensation to it.

  He agreed of course, as did Alysia, and they all entered the portal. Phoenix zipped through that narrow tunnel until approaching that resplendent starpoint he'd grown all too accustomed with, and when he came tumbling out he disciplined his stomach from vomiting up whatever food was left in his system from when he last ate on Earth, if it was still there at all. He figured it might have been, but then again, he wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been gone, how long he'd been in this world. The others, they knew; the Spiral roared every year and that marked a year (Earth-time, he presumed), which meant that there were only two more roars left. At least, he thought so. That did make sense, right?

  Theoretically, it should, he thought sceptically.

  He hiccupped just as Valerie had done before, kneeling. How aren't I used to this shit by now? I've done this how many times exactly? Jesus, my memory is dogshit.

  "Those portals," breathed Phoenix, and he stood up straight, sniffling, "they get me every time."

  Zamora said nothing for a moment; only laughed in that old-maidish way, the dim blue candles giving partial light to the room. She sauntered over to her desk and sat down leisurely, steepling her fingers once again, running a finger through her left eye to clear away dirt or whatever the hell was in there.

  Old-woman grit, thought Phoenix humorously, the sort that usually comes with a matching set of coffee breath and afternoon lunchstink.

  Alysia stepped out of the portal and a steamy mist of whitish-green flew out with her, accompanied by a burning odour mixed with a touch of vinegar. The smell alone was enough to make Phoenix's eyes water. He drew his blazer sleeve up to the sockets and scared away the tears. Scrunching his nose, he stood forward with his thumb and forefinger splayed across his brow.

  "So, where to begin . . ." Zamora said dramatically, as if she had been planning to reveal this information eventually, but not for a long, long time. "Well, it's a large alliance, much larger than the Castle, perhaps the largest, as far as I'm aware, and I've seen thousands upon thousands of miles, and have ventured across such distances in search of new members and people in need.

  "Their name is Project Titan—an alliance dedicated to developing technology for its persons, particularly technology that can advance them in the world, via mimicking powers that already exist. For me, I can see beyond the divisions, given that I have gained knowledge about such areas from someone else. I can also create portals, as you're already aware. The leader is Gideon Lance, and he possesses the power to create technology, with the catch that he does not know how to make his technology work together.

  "Not because he power limits him from doing so—he's quite intelligent—but because a lot of these inventions, so to speak, are far beyond what is humanly possible or understood back on Earth."

  "Cutting-edge technology," said Phoenix. "Like alien-level, like—"—hover-cars. Hover-cars and anti-gravity generators and UFOs and superluminal spacecrafts designed by omnipotent beings. Things like that. Interesting, yet scary . . .

  He cleared his throat. "Like a level that only God can understand," he finally said aloud.

  A nod. "Precisely. Preternatural technology."

  "So what's Gideon's plan?"

  he paused and thought for a moment. Then she told him, "To combine all different sorts of powers to make these inventions work, to get his people hundreds of divisions ahead, to get them to the Spiral or perhaps all out of this world at once."

  Phoenix's brow creased. That's one way of doing it. "Will it work?"

  "If I were God, I could answer that, but I only know what I can prove, and what I can prove is that the world is quickly evaporating to nothing at an unprecedented speed. Whether his plan may work eventually is out of the question, because that word—may—is too flimsy to fight a battle against time. Progression and consistency are our only options. He may want to mimic an antimatter gate, but it will perhaps take more than two years, which is why it's important we convince him of this time problem. Do you understand, Levin?"

  Phoenix nodded. He did understand.

  She smirked slightly, again in that old-womanly way, and pulled open a drawer in her desk. Inside was an A4 booklet with lined sepia paper and black coffee stains on the cover. She laid it out in front of her and fingered through the pages, licking the tip of her forefinger as she did so. After about ten swipes, she stopped, grabbed her quill pen and circled a name not once but three times, like always. At the top, the area that she circled, was the name 'Gideon Lance', and beneath it was an array of text separated into bulky handwritten paragraphs. They were difficult to read, what with the shadowy darkness, but the larger fonts separating each bulk of text were clearer: Plans, Alliance, Personality, Things to Overcome. There were more on the other page but Zamora's elbow had covered most of them.

  She dropped the pen and interlaced her fingers once again. "Good. Very good. Do you know what you must do?"

  "I think so," said Phoenix, not fully confident. "You want me to . . ."

  "To infiltrate, although I heavily dislike using that term, their base and form peace between both alliances."

  Phoenix grimaced, not out of pain or discomfort but out of a wavering confusion. She wants me to do this? In a soft voice that would have no doubt been impossible to hear back in the crowd, back when he was on stage, he asked, "Wouldn't it be better if you did this? If you, the leader of the Castle, offered to—"

  Zamora made a cut-off motion with her arm, and abruptly Phoenix paused. "I cannot," she said, "because there is too much tension between him and I."

  "Why?"

  "A long story, one which I would much prefer not to get into at the moment. In the meantime, I suppose, I need to know if you're up for the task."

  "How should I convince him? What if tries to kill—"

  "He won't." Alysia stood forward, posture well-aligned and making her seem taller than Phoenix, given that he was slouched over. Her gimlet eyes conveyed that she had a plan of her own, an unspoken plan that only experience could give you. "I know how Gideon is, how people like him are. He won't want to kill a weather-caster when he knows he can gain something from you. I think it's important we don't offer this peace treaty immediately."

  Phoenix looked back at her, inquisitive. "How do we do that?"

  "We take things slow. We don't offer peace right away, but we tell him that you can help him, tell him you can help power some of his machines with your electricity."

  "But I don't know if you can do that . . ."

  Alysia shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. With a stern face, she said, "I know you can. You're a weather-caster. You can do anything. You killed Chrono for Christ's sake."

  Phoenix nodded, although still not convinced. "I guess, but what if he wants nothing to do with us?"

  "That won't happen," assured Zamora. "He cannot turn down a weather-caster, especially one that can power objects. Alysia told me about you powering the chandelier in your new home. This can come in handy not only for us, but for Project Titan as well."

  "Doesn't he have his own form of electricity?" asked Phoenix.

  "Well, yes and no," Zamora said. She gestured her arms as she spoke. "The city indeed has quite a lot of power to work with, but like the real world, the electricity is heavily limited. God hasn't put enough power, it seems, for Gideon to enact on his plans to traverse the world with ease. And, even if he did, he wouldn't possess the relevant knowledge to make his machines work. With your power, however, which may practically be the most powerful of all, you can help expedite change in his plans. You can power super-machines, and whatever else his mad blueprints entail. Am I clear, or am I going too fast?"

  Phoenix didn't think she was going too fast at all. He shook his head and chuckled nervously. "No, no, I understand. It's just a lot to take in at once. I think Alysia's right in saying that we should at least take it in steps. Plus, with these uniforms"—he stretched his arms out as if to say, Voila!—"they might get the wrong idea. That's why I'm a little anxious, I guess."

  "Understandable, but you have nothing to concern yourself with," assured Zamora again. "If you, as you say, take things in steps, there'll be no trouble. Do what you feel is best. Alysia will help you. Be open. And in the meantime, I will search hard for this Alex you're so in love with." A cheeky smile chased wrinkles up to her eyes. Quite sincere this time. Phoenix knew it and laughed.

  "Thanks, that's all that's really been on my mind," said Phoenix. And my parents. Should I ask her?

  Not yet. The time can wait, just not two years. Then that would be too late.

  "Oh, I could tell, Levin. Your eyes are a gateway to your thoughts, and I've become an expert in reading them," Zamora said proudly.

  Phoenix snorted. "That's handy. Too handy, I guess."

  "Both deadly and useful," joked Alysia, and upon further inspection, she was smiling, too. She still maintained her tough-woman act, but Phoenix saw right past it, so he returned the feeling.

  A moment of chuckling amongst the three of them and a brief silence swept the room.

  "So, when is this happening? When are we heading out?" asked Phoenix curiously. I'd like more time to write in my journal. Not a diary, a journal.

  "Now, preferably," said Zamora, "unless you have something better to do, which I doubt?"

  Shit.

  Phoenix said, "That's okay," and sighed.

  "Delightful." Zamora stood up and walked past him and Alysia, meditated for a good thirty seconds, moving her arms in circling motions of course, and spawned that same bright green portal on the wall. It was about the size of a garage door, if not a little larger.

  Phoenix stood forward, and Alysia followed.

  "Ready?" He looked at her with a rueful smile.

  She tied her bandanna behind her ears and covered the lower portion of her tan face, her baseball-sized biceps bulging under the dim blue candlelight. Nodding, she said, "Of course. And this time we don't have Valerie with us."

  "True." But he didn't know if that was necessarily a good thing. He liked talking to her, enjoyed her personality, you know, stuff like that. Stuff teenagers didn't often care about.

  Nonetheless, he said, "Ladies first, I guess," and beckoned for Alysia to go ahead.

  And just like that, she did. The portal swallowed her in a steamy mist. Phoenix inhaled deeply through his nose, looked at his hands once more to make sure he wasn't dreaming, and walked into the antimatter gate.

  Alex, I'll find you. You have my word.

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