The Broken Gates

[Macavity116]

Episode 2: The world of the gods, Wellspring of Chaos ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode One: You barely understand your role in what lies ahead.

---

Marisol Reyes
Creator
Metro Manila, Luzon Island

​

Marisol Reyes was going to have a very full day.

She packed up her belongings, checked out of the hotel, and then made her way to the parking lot outside. She found her coworkers barely awake, drinking coffee as though it was the last beverage on Earth. Together, everyone piled into the van and the driver carried the team away.

The van dropped off Marisol and her coworkers at Ninoy Aquino International Airport. Marisol and her companions dropped off their gear at the employee baggage check-in area, and then reported to their duty stations.

Several hours later, Marisol clambered aboard an Airbus A380, prepared for the long day ahead, and put on her best customer service smile. Minutes later, the first passengers boarded the plane.

“Welcome to Asiana Airlines.” Marisol said. “My name is Marisol Reyes and I’ll be one of your flight attendants today. We hope you enjoy this direct nonstop flight to Detroit Metro Airport.”

It took eighteen and a half hours to fly from Manila to Detroit. Over the course of the journey, Marisol and her coworkers attended to the needs of two-hundred-fifty passengers, serving food, water, and providing what comforts they could in a pressurized steel cylinder. Babies cried, cranky women complained, someone came down with airsickness, old men rambled on about days gone by, young people asked for the Wi-Fi password.

Eventually the cabin lights dimmed. A few passengers asked for blankets and pillows, and then blissful sleep took nearly everyone on the plane. A few people stayed awake, using their phones or tablets to watch videos. The crew took it in shifts to get some sleep of their own. During her breaktime, Marisol grabbed her cellphone out of her carry-on bag and checked her email.

You have five unread messages.

Paradox Interactive Forums (1 hour ago)

Asiana Airlines (4 hours ago)

Momma Reyes (10 hours ago)

Archive of Our Own (Yesterday)

Mariposa Reyes (Yesterday)

She smiled and opened the most recent email. She bookmarked the newest update from the Paradox Forums, then settled down for a catnap.

…

Finally, after spending nineteen hours in the air, Asiana Airlines Flight 2086 landed in Detroit, a large city in the United States of America, halfway around the globe from Marisol’s home. Debarking all of the passengers took about half an hour, then the flight attendants gathered their own belongings and clambered onto another van together.

Marisol and her coworkers stayed awake just long enough to present their Philippine passports to the US Border Patrol, then fell asleep during the van ride to their next destination. The van travelled in silence from Detroit to Flint, a smaller town located in the heart of Michigan. Sometime around the middle of the night, the van arrived at a hotel located near Bishop International Airport. Another Asiana plane was visible at the airport itself, where maintenance engineers were working long hours to make it flight ready.

Marisol and the other flight attendants checked into their hotel. Feeling groggy, barely able to keep her eyes open, Marisol stumbled up to her hotel room, got inside, and dropped her bags on the floor.

Not bothering to remove a single piece of her flight attendant’s uniform, Marisol flopped onto her bed, lying faceup and holding her smartphone above her eyes. Flipping her thumb absentmindedly, she scrolled through the Paradox Interactive Forums, looking for a very specific thread.

The Last Days of the Emerald Isle, written by Macavity116.

Marisol loved to read fanfiction, she even dabbled in writing it as well. Tonight, not only would she fall asleep reading her favorite type of story, but she would drift away reading the latest work of her favorite writer. She could not think of a better way to end a day as long and arduous as this one.

As Marisol’s eyes glazed over and her breathing slowed, she noticed that Macavity116 had left an author’s note at the top of the chapter, in which he acknowledged the negative remarks Marisol had left on the previous chapter. She barely read it, skimming just enough words to understand that Macavity116 had taken her criticism into account while writing this new installment.

She started to nod off. Marisol’s phone drooped low and touched her nose. The words on the screen became blurry and hard to read. Marisol adjusted her glasses, trying to read a few more lines before she completely lost consciousness.

The phone screen flickered. Marisol tapped it. The Paradox Interactive Forums vanished completely and the screen was filled with a black space. The words “Was erwartest du?” appeared in the center of the empty void.

“What?” Marisol grumbled, rubbing her eyes and tapping the phone.

The words vanished, and then Macavity’s fanfic re-appeared.

“Uhg... okay.” Marisol said to herself.

But before she could think or say anything else, a blue light filled the hotel room so completely that Marisol could see nothing else. She groaned and tossed her phone aside, but this did nothing to help. Marisol blinked...

And suddenly, she was very cold.

...

Marisol was no longer in her hotel room. She was lying flat on her back in a grassy field. The sun was high overhead, and birds were singing all around. Marisol blinked, scrambling to her feet as quickly as she could. She peered over a nearby outcrop and gasped.

Just half a kilometer away, Marisol could see Ulster Castle.

“Wait... what!?” Marisol gasped.

No... she could not believe her eyes. Ulster Castle was a location in Ireland... and more importantly, it was from a Macavity116 story, the primary setting of Last Days of the Emerald Isle. How was Marisol standing outside of its walls?

But there was no time to examine her surroundings. A cacophony of noise told Marisol that something serious was happening around her. A loud rushing sound caused Marisol to duck! Then, something sailed over her head and alighted itself upon the rocky outcrop she was looking at moments before.

It was a fairy. She knew it well because one of the characters in Macavity’s new story was a fairy... one that had snow-white hair and eyes as red as the setting sun...

In fact, the fairy now standing above Marisol could be described in the same way... flowing white hair and deep red eyes.

“Aisling!?” Marisol breathed.

It was. The Irish mythological creature named Aisling, who played a role in Macavity’s new story, stood here as real as Marisol herself. She started to say something, but Aisling yelled:

“Look out!”

Seeing Aisling’s eyes go wide, Marisol threw herself to the ground. Behind her, there was a bang like a cannon blast. Marisol looked around and spotted something alarming:

Standing at the edge of Dermot’s private forest, there was a dangerous-looking woman, carrying a weapon. Marisol could see that she was vaguely East Asian, dressed in a mid-2000's era military uniform, and carried what was unmistakably a modern-day military rifle. (An American M14 EBR, to be precise) The letters “AFUNE” could be plainly seen on the woman’s bullet-proof vest. Her face had a dignified regal kind of look to it, as though she had royalty somewhere in her family tree.

The Military Uniform Princess held her arms out, as though inviting Aisling to attack. The fairy obliged.

“Get out of my way!” Aisling roared before lunging toward her foe. “I won’t let you near my friend!”

Aisling reached her opponent and started grappling for control of the rifle in her hands. As they fought, the Military Uniform Princess said:

“You barely understand your role in what lies ahead. Here, let me enlighten you.”

She pushed Aisling away, and then held her left hand to her own chest, just over her heart.

Marisol had read so many Macavity stories that she knew what was going to happen next. Instinctively, Marisol tried to warn Aisling.

“She’s going to throw Soulfire at you!” Marisol yelled at the fairy.

Aisling looked around and spotted Marisol for the first time.

“Stay down! I don’t want you to get hurt too!” The fairy called back.

The Military Uniform Princess pointed her left hand at Marisol. A cone of purple and blue flames erupted from her hand. The supernatural flamethrower incinerated the meadow as it careened toward Marisol. Aisling thrust herself into the path of danger. She seized Marisol’s hand, pulling her along as she ran away. Marisol cried out in terror as the Soufire inferno singed the hair on her forearms.

The Military Uniform Princess lowered her hand, and the Soulfire inferno died out. Through the curling smoke, Marisol could see that the enemy’s face was stoic, trying to hide something.

“Hold onto me now!” Aisling cried out. “It’s our only way to escape!”

“What is?” Marisol responded, and then looked ahead.

For just a few moments, Marisol could see a swirling vortex hanging in midair in front of herself and Aisling. It made her think of the Wormholes found in Stellaris. Before Marisol could wrap her head around this new development, Aisling tugged her forward and dove headfirst into the vortex portal.

With a great crash, some screaming, and a loud snap of breaking metal, Marisol and Aisling fell out of the air and crash-landed in Marisol’s hotel room. As soon as both women came to rest, the vortex portal sealed itself and vanished completely.

Episode 2: The world of the gods, Wellspring of Chaos ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

<=== Episode 1: You barely understand your role in what lies ahead.

Episode 3: So this is how I understand it. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Two: The World of the Gods, Wellspring of Chaos

---

Marisol Reyes
Creator
Genesee County, Michigan


Marisol absentmindedly opened the door and found one of her coworkers in the hotel hallway.

Lexus Mallari was Filipina, just like Marisol, but was much taller than her friend. Rubbing her eyes and trying hard not to nod off while standing upright, Lexus grumbled:

“Mari... could you please keep it down? I’m sure you’re having the time of your life in there, but the rest of us are trying to sleep.”

“Yeah... sorry I woke you up. I’ll keep it down.” Marisol replied. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Then Marisol closed her door and turned around.

That was when Aisling cornered her. Pushing one arm into Marisol’s throat and the other into her chest, the fairy pressed Marisol into a corner and held her there. The questions flowed out of Aisling’s mouth like water from a faucet:

“What happened!? What’s going on? How did we get here? Who are you? Who was that woman? Where is Duke Dermot?”

Aisling’s words did not match the movements of her mouth. Marisol suddenly found herself thinking about the old-style Japanese movies that were badly dubbed into English. After a moment, she regained her wits and found her voice.

“Slow down!” Marisol said. “I’m just as confused as you are!”

Aisling hesitated, then loosened her grip on Marisol.

“How do you know my name?” Aisling asked. “Where is this place and how did we get here?”

After another pause, Aisling added:

“And who are you?”

“María de la Soledad Teodora Natividad Reyes.” Marisol said, instinctively giving away her full name. “I... I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You and I think the same.” Aisling said, releasing Marisol and stepping back. “Now send me back to Ulster.”

“What? Back into the Emerald Isle setting?” Marisol responded. “I uh... I can’t do that. I’m just a reader... and I can only read your story for about a couple hours each day, besides I’m only the Beta Reader, which means I’m like an editor… so I don’t really have that kind of power, you know? But I promise I am enjoying the story.”

Without really thinking about it, Marisol started gushing.

“I really love you though. The relationship you’re building with Dermot is so cute and I’ve really enjoyed working with Mac to write your dialogue. I almost died of adorableness when you asked Dermot if he was trying to protect you. Look!”

Keeping her hands raised, Marisol backtracked into the main part of her hotel room, kneeling down to her travel bag and retrieving her laptop computer.

“See, you’re a character in this story I’ve been reading.” Marisol explained.

Aisling tilted her head to one side, confused.

“A story?” She repeated.

Marisol shoved her laptop into Aisling’s arms. The fairy winced, unfamiliar with the concept of backlit screens. A moment later, Marisol remembered a crucial detail from Last Days of the Emerald Isle.

“Oh! You’re illiterate!” Marisol gasped. “I’m sorry, I was so excited, I forgot.”

She took the laptop away and said:

“Well, uh… how do I say… someone is writing a book about you, like the Chronicler’s Apprentice was doing for Dermot, except the book is all about you and your life and your adventures… and… and…”

Aisling held up a hand, as though pleading for Marisol to slow down.

“Are you saying that I’m in a different world?” She asked. “This place feels so strange.”

Before Marisol could respond, the hotel room was filled with bright blue light for a second time. However, it came from the window this time. Marisol and Aisling both turned their heads to look.

The Military Uniform Princess was standing in the parking lot, looking directly into Marisol’s second-floor room through the window.

“You figured it out faster than the last one.” The strange woman called out. “My congratulations.”

Aisling ran to the window and yelled her reply through the mesh screen, which caused a commotion among other people in the lot.

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Are you one of the blue-and-gold warriors?”

Several college students standing at the hotel entrance had pulled out their smartphones and were taking pictures of the woman dressed in the AFUNE uniform. Marisol blinked as a sudden realization hit her.

A. F. U. N. E.

She knew those letters, had read them not so long ago when she first became a fan of Macavity116. When she skimmed through one of his older stories…

Armed

Forces of the

United

Nations of

Earth

As soon as the metaphorical puzzle pieces came together in her mind, Marisol understood just who Aisling was arrayed against.

A young woman, vaguely Asian in appearance. Pale skin, short black hair, vivid blue eyes.

Marisol finally recognized who this woman was supposed to be.

“Blue-and-gold warriors?” The princess repeated. “Oh, right! The enemies from your world. I’m not with them, and they do not exist in this world. As I’m certain you were on the cusp of discovering for yourself, the world you stand upon now is not your own.”

The Military Uniform Princess held her arms out wide.

“Nor is it mine.” She finished.

Loud voices sounded in the hallway. Someone was knocking on doors. Marisol’s heartbeat quickened. She began to think fast.

“How did I come here?” Aisling called out.

“I brought you here.” The princess replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “My new friends and I worked long and hard to summon you here, along with a few other people you’ll have the pleasure of meeting soon.”

The Military Uniform Princess raised her voice to a dramatic shout:

“Welcome, Aisling! Welcome to the Wellspring of Chaos, the hellish world of the gods of pleasure!”

Marisol could now feel her fight-or-flight reflexes kicking in, and she was going to choose “flight.” She opened one of her suitcases, found exactly what she was looking for, and muttered a short prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary for reminding Marisol to pack one.

Never thought a childish hobby was going to save my life someday. Marisol told herself.

“Come with me now.” The princess called up to Aisling. “I’ll explain the Great Lie to you… and how we can set right all that’s gone wrong in this world.”

A sinking feeling developed in Marisol’s gut.

The Great Lie? She repeated to herself. Oh, no… not this again.

“No!” Aisling called back. “I refuse. Go away!”

“Oh, I’m hurt.” The princess replied. “Why won’t you?”

“I can sense your evil from here.” Aisling replied. “I won’t go anywhere with you.”

Marisol managed to put on her helmet and elbow pads. Sensing that she was rapidly running out of time, she abandoned the knee pads and started moving toward Aisling. The Princess’ words were barely audible as she started to move.

“When words fail…”

“AISLING!” Marisol screamed.

The fairy barely had time to react before Marisol grabbed her by the hand and slammed a skateboard onto the floor.

“Follow me!” Marisol yelled.

Marisol burst out of her room. Several hotel staff screamed in fright as a young woman careened down the corridor riding atop a skateboard. Aisling ran behind, looking bewildered and on the verge of panic.

“Outta the way! There’s trouble!” Marisol yelled as she pushed past an alarmed looking manager.

Marisol rounded a corner and performed a hasty Firecracker, balancing on the rear wheels as her skateboard clattered down a flight of stairs. In moments, she was on the ground floor.

“Are we escaping!?” Aisling called out, holding one hand in front of her eyes. She overshot the end of the stairway and crashed headlong into the opposing wall. The lobby lights were dazzling her.

“Yes!” Marisol replied. “Akira’s dangerous! We’ve gotta find somewhere to hide!”

Truthfully, Marisol was panicking. Knowing the enemy only made her realize just how hopeless the situation was.

Akira Jaqueline Robinson was the central villain of the old Stormbreaker Universe, a series of ten stories Macavity116 wrote long before Marisol became his Beta Reader. Akira was a powerful telepath, with a long list of Psionic powers at her disposal. Marisol was deathly afraid that Akira might round a corner at any moment and obliterate her with but the snap of her fingers.

Marisol kept one foot on the board and pushed with the other, racing across the lobby to one of the emergency exits, away from the parking lot. She looked behind just in time to see a flash of red and white color.

Aisling had transformed into a small bird and was following at best speed. Marisol burst out of the side door and into the dark surroundings. She did not know the city of Flint very well, but she did know that help was very far away.

In front of the hotel was a parking lot containing two restaurants. Miller Road, a major thoroughfare, lay beyond. Behind the hotel was a quarter-mile of forest that concealed Swartz Creek. Looking around, Marisol spotted a sign.

“We’ll go to the Hooters, hide behind their security guys while someone calls the police.” Marisol said.

The faintest trace of a plan was coming together. Marisol was starting to wrap her mind around the idea that two characters from Macavity’s stories were suddenly present in the real world… Marisol knew that she needed to find someplace where she could safely pull out her cell phone and contact him.

A swallow with red eyes landed on her shoulder and gripped tightly with its little talons. Marisol started to push her skateboard, getting far better speed on concrete than she did on hotel carpets.

Marisol and Aisling never made it to the Hooters building. Akira Robinson was standing on the side of the road, just waiting for the pair to pass by.

“Please stop causing trouble for me, Aisling.” Akira said. “Just come with me now, it’ll be easier for everyone.”

Marisol wanted to start pushing her skateboard forward again, but she felt as though an invisible hand was clamped around her body, holding her in place.

“What kind of character are you?” Akira was speaking to the bird on Marisol’s shoulder. “Are you the type of character who won’t see reason unless they’re beaten in a fight? I can oblige.”

Akira put on a fake voice.

“If I win, then let me have my way with you.” Akira resumed her normal tone, harsh and cold. “Is that what you want me to say? I don’t like doing things that way, but if you insist… I have so many ways of forcing you to come along and meet your new friends. But we would prefer it if you came along willingly.”

An invisible force grabbed Marisol and threw her off her skateboard. She hit the pavement helmet-first, saving her from a far worse injury, although the fall still hurt badly. Aisling resumed her human form, standing between Marisol and Akira.

A powerful gust of wind shook the area as though a tornado had touched down closeby. Akira raised both hands to defend herself.

“Where are we!? Who are you!?” Aisling demanded, blasting Akira with gale-force winds that tore up street signs, turned over semi trucks, and pulled the roof of a nearby house.

“I told you!” Akira shouted. “The world of the gods, Wellspring of Chaos!”

“You’re speaking nonsense!”

“Nonsense!?” Akira’s laugh was somehow audible over the cacophony. “You think this is a joke when we are able to understand each other, even though I’m speaking Japanese and you Irish!? Even though the sights, the smells, and the sounds are all so foreign, yet familiar? This is the hideous world of the man responsible for all our suffering, for everything wrong in our homes!”

Aisling’s windstorm died away, and Marisol was able to stand up. The fairy was panting. She seemed exhausted. Marisol sat up. She could hear emergency sirens and screams from nearby witnesses.

“Come with me, Aisling!” Akira tried one last time. “You can save Dermot, save all of Ireland! All you have to do is help us bring punishment and justice the god responsible for the hell we’ve lived through!”

Without warning, without a hint or a sign any preamble of any kind, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky and struck Akira! Marisol fell to the ground, clutching her ringing ears. The image of Akira’s silhouette was burned into her retinas by the sudden flash of light. Aisling had also fallen over, shocked by the sudden blast.

Akira Robinson staggered, then shouted:

“Back again, Sebakhira?”

Dozens of eyewitnesses, already frightened by the sudden lightning strike, began to scream as a strange creature loped into view. Marisol rubbed her eyes to make sure she was not seeing things.

A large thing was walking toward Akira on two legs. But it did not have the feet, hands, or head of a human. Instead, this creature was a highly anthropomorphized cross between a person and a lion. The half-lion, half-human woman was dressed in the beige robes of a religious monk, and even wore a hood over her head. She peered at Akira through dark purple eyes. She did not speak. Marisol was so shocked by everything that was happening that she made no effort to identify the bizarre lion-like creature walking as though it were human.

Marisol could not find any words to describe what happened next. A constellation of lights erupted between the lioness and Akira, flashing and sparking as though a fireworks show was playing out in small scale. After a few moments, Akira clenched her fists and yelled:

“ENOUGH!”

The conflagration ceased.

The lioness/human hybrid took a step back, her telepathic duel with Akira ended. The first officers of the Flint City Police were arriving on the scene, guns drawn.

“While this sort of action is exactly what my new friends are seeking, it is too early. We can’t get ahead of ourselves.” Akira said. “I’ll leave you to do what you will… we’ll come back when we’re ready to extend our offer again.”

Akira turned around, as if she were going to step across the road. Instead, a swirling blue vortex portal opened up in midair, just in front of her. Again, Marisol thought the portal strongly resembled a Stellaris Wormhole. Akira stepped into the vortex portal and vanished from view. A moment later, the portal itself closed and shrank into nothingness. It, and the person it carried away… were both gone.

…

Police and bystanders alike were converging on the scene, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The lion-like woman turned to leave, ignoring everyone around her, including the curious youngsters trying to take her picture.

“Wait!” Aisling called out. “Are you like me? Are you from another world?”

The humanoid lioness looked at the fairy, then nodded, her expression mournful.

“I am Sebakhira. Who are you?”

“Aisling.” The fairy murmured, suddenly shy. “I’m very far from home and I don’t know what’s happening.”

A few steps away, Marisol tried to hide her confusion. She could not remember who Sebakhira was aside from the fact that she was definitely a Macavity character.

Sebakhira held out one of her paws.

“Come. We shall learn together.” She replied.

Aisling took a few steps toward Sebakhira, then hesitated, looking back at Marisol, uncertain.

Marisol had her smartphone out; she was hastily taking pictures of both Sebakhira and Aisling.

“Go on!” Marisol whispered. “I’ve gotta send a DM.”

Marisol had recovered from the shock of the events and was just now starting to process the idea of two characters, created by the same author, talking to one another in front of her like this. On top of that, Marisol had survived an attack by Akira Robinson, the Paradox herself! She could not wait to tell Macavity116 about this.

Marisol felt as though she might die of excitement.

…

Marisol did not get back to her hotel room for another two hours. She had to give statements to the police. (which mostly consisted of “I don’t know what happened” and “I was scared for my life, so I ran away”) Then she had to get checked over by a member of Asiana Airlines staff to make sure she was safe to fly back to the Philippines. Finally, she took a few minutes to write a lengthy message to Macavity116 on her phone, explaining everything that happened and attaching a few pictures she had taken as well.

As soon as she sent her message, Marisol remembered that Macavity had once said he lived in Mid-Michigan. Perhaps he had already seen Aisling and Akira on the news. The pair of them had caused no small amount of chaos and destruction, after all.

Opening the door to her room, Marisol was lost in thought. She was already planning to write an email to Macavity116, to tell him about everything that happened tonight in even greater detail.

She would not get the chance.

Sebakhira and Aisling were in her room, waiting for her.

<=== Episode 1: You barely understand your role in what lies ahead.

Episode 3: So this is how I understand it. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Today's unusually early episode comes courtesy of @Chac1 and the WritAAR of the Week AwAARd!

Thank you for reading, and for your support of this really weird and highly experimental metafiction project.

<=== Episode 2: The World of the Gods, Wellspring of Chaos

Episode 4: Who are you calling “Parent” and “Child!?”===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Three: So this is how I understand it.

---

Aisling
Creation
Genesee County, Michigan


“So this is how I understand it. In this world, there are stories that describe the two of us. Stories about our experiences, with parts that don’t even make it into the chronicles I’ve heard about back home.”

Aisling finished speaking and nibbled on a saltine cracker, wincing as the myriad flavors hit her tongue. Sebakhira nodded, then turned to Marisol, who was sitting cross-legged on the second bed, looking very emotional.

“This is the truth, as you and I have discovered.” Sebakhira said. Then she licked her forepaws thoughtfully.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Sebakhira. Teacher of the Psionic traditions under the employ of Waiparau, King of Paku Nui... or rather, I was under the King’s employ until recently.”

Marisol furrowed her brow.

“Okay, I remember the name Paku Nui. You’re also a character in a Macavity story. I think you might be from either Faith in Chaos or The Stormbreakers… you’re definitely from one of the older stories. I honestly don’t remember.”

Sebakhira began to pace the length of the hotel room, making a deep growling sound as she lost herself in thought.

“That woman who attacked us… I know her.” Sebakhira said.

“She’s the Paradox!” Marisol replied, pressing her thumbs into her temples as she tried to jog her own memory. “You fought her in… oh, what book was it? I know it was the big battle with the Planet-Killers.”

“A battle? Planet-Killers?” Sebakhira asked, tilting her head.

Aisling looked completely lost. Marisol snapped her fingers.

“The Levakian Uprising!” She said. “You and Tantomile worked together in the Levakian Uprising and that’s where you fought the Paradox!”

Silence. Sebakhira gave no sign of recognition. Instead, the white lioness replied through bared fangs:

“My people, the Levakian race, are loyal subjects of the Partogan Kingdom. There is no uprising, and I should kill you where you stand for implying our Princess would partake in such an action.”

Aisling stood up and tapped Marisol on the shoulder.

“What does she mean by that?” Aisling asked.

It was Marisol’s turn to tilt her head. After staring at Sebakhira for a moment, she came to a conclusion:

“You’re from an early chapter.” Marisol said. “You’re from an early part of the story… what’s the last thing you remember before you got pulled into this world?”

Sebakhira wrapped her tail around her hind legs. She was agitated.

“I was aboard the starship Shieldbreaker, having just explained the history of the Paradox to Princess Tantomile. We had received news about the death of the Partogan Queen and were discussing the upcoming Royal Election… and then our surroundings became strange. The Paradox appeared. She was not alone. There were others with her.”

Sebakhira turned toward Aisling.

“I heard about you from her. I knew I needed to find you at once.”

“Does that mean you are going to help us?”

Sebakhira bared her teeth in a terrifying expression that Aisling guessed to be a smile. She could not sense hostility, at least.

…

Marisol’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Macavity!” She gasped. “He’s the writer who created you. I don’t really have time to explain, but he and I… we uh… we kinda knew this was possible. For fictional characters like you to appear in the real world… anyway. There was an incident a couple months ago.”

Aisling stood up and looked around the room.

“So… my world’s not real?” Aisling asked. “I’m not real?”

Aisling could see a deeply uncomfortable expression on Marisol’s face, and it did nothing to reassure her.

“You’re… um… you’re more real now than you were yesterday.” Marisol replied noncommittally, and then buried her nose in her phone.

Aisling opened up the refrigerator and found a half-eaten package of croquettes. Marisol had saved them after her latest transpacific flight. Aisling took a hesitant bite.

A cascading explosion of flavor hit Aisling’s mouth, causing her to shudder. Gasping loudly, she began to greedily scarf down the croquettes. The food in this world was full of multilayered flavors and very delicious. It made the food of her own world seem bland and forgettable by comparison.

“Okay, I've got something!” Marisol announced. “Macavity already knows what’s going on. You two made the news. He says he can help you, but you have to come to him, though. He can’t go to you.”

“Won’t you show us the way? We’re foreign to this world.” Sebakhira asked. “We do not know how to find this writer of yours.”

Marisol swore.

“I mean, I live on the other side of the world, and if I miss the return flight, I might get stranded here…”

She fiddled her skateboard, which was leaning against the bed. Then Marisol started typing a reply on her phone.

“Hold on…” She mumbled. “Wait a minute.”

Aisling did not wait a minute. She began to feast on the magnificent delectable treats scattered around the hotel room.

…

---

Marisol Reyes
Creator
Shiawassee County, Michigan


Marisol was stunned by just how easy it was to get permission to leave the hotel. The Senior Cabin Crew rep grumbled softly over the phone:

“You know when reporting time is. Be responsible and show up for work clean and sober, okay?”

After that, Marisol opened up her Uber App and called for a rideshare. When the car arrived, she told Sebakhira to put her hood back up.

“Why must I cover my face?” Sebakhira asked.

“Because there are no talking lions in this world!” Marisol hissed just before shoving Sebakhira into the backseat and telling the driver in a slurred voice: “We’re all kinda drunk, can you just get us to this address in Shiatown while we take a teensy-tiny little catnap?”

...

The drive from Flint to Shiatown took about twenty minutes. The city was quickly left behind and darkness took the car. Marisol knew that Macavity lived in a very rural part of Michigan, very far away from cities and surrounded by farmland. The darkness of night was more total here than in the bustling hubbub of Manila. It seemed to press against the car windows like water against a submarine. The only light came from Marisol’s phone, which was being held by Sebakhira. The lioness was trying to bring herself up to speed on everything there was to know about the writer named Macavity.

Shiatown is a very small settlement of only a few dozen people, all of whom were asleep when Marisol’s carpool arrived. The driver expressed some confusion when Marisol, Aisling, Sebakhira told him he was at the correct location.

“Ladies, this is a park.” He said, gesturing to the nearby swing set and the distant bubbling sounds of the Shiawassee River.

“We know.” Marisol replied. “Our friend is going to meet us here."

Marisol, Aisling, and Sebakhira were left alone in the park with only the noise of the river to keep them company in the darkness. Aisling cupped her hands together and whispered into her palm. A moment later, the clouds parted, allowing a half-moon to illuminate the scene.

“Best not draw attention to ourselves.” Sebakhira whispered. “I sense we are being followed.”

“Well, Macavity is supposed to be here.” Marisol reminded her. “He might be close already.”

“In that case, I shall rephrase. We are being followed by someone other than your friend.” Sebakhira replied.

Aisling had wandered away. She was distracted by the sounds of nature. The shallow river and the land surrounding it was full of animal night-life. Marisol shuddered and drew her coat tighter around herself.

“I’ve read those chapters you mentioned.” Sebakhira said. “Song of the Solitaire. It seems to me that this man you call the writer… my creator… is a dishonorable person. To think our universe was created by such a careless and stupid person fills me with dread.”

“You’re not the first person to say that.” Marisol mumbled. “Maybe you’ll get to meet Cali while you’re here. She knows this ‘beyond the fourth wall’ crap better than any of us. I just got lucky enough to get dragged into the Malum Incident.”

“What’s the Malum Incident?” Aisling asked.

“That.” A male voice spoke from the darkness. “Requires a lot of explanation, and we don’t have the time.”

A dark-skinned man, dressed in a blue coat and rectangular glasses, stepped out of the darkness. He was armed with a long object that Marisol initially mistook for a rifle. Sebakhira and Aisling both took a step back. Marisol did not.

“Holy shit, Mac! Is that you?” Marisol said to the figure.

He lowered his weapon.

“Cho?” He said. “You’re uh… a lot shorter than I expected.”

Marisol folded her arms.

“I’m average for people in my country.” She snapped. “And unless you want me to start calling you a fat American, can you help these two already? They jumped out of your books and smashed up the town next door. There’s cops asking questions and I think there’s more of your characters running around out there… so this is all kinda your fault anyway.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Macavity116 replied, keeping his weapon at a low ready position. “Were you followed? Is anyone else with you?”

Marisol looked around and realized that both Aisling and Sebakhira were suddenly on alert.

“Am I the only one here who doesn’t have superpowers?” Marisol started to ask before Aisling interrupted her:

“Someone’s here.”

Very suddenly, Aisling vanished from view. She had shapeshifted into a wolf and slipped into the nearby brush. Sebakhira lowered her hood and peered around, growling. Marisol could feel waves of intense heat rippling away from the lioness. Macavity signaled Marisol.

“Over here! Stand by me!” He said.

Marisol sprinted across the grass and quickly stood beside Macavity. This was the first time she had seen him in person, and under the low light, it was difficult to make out any details beyond dark skin and very short hair. She did, however, get a closer look at the weapon Macavity was holding. It was not, as she first thought, a rifle.

Macavity was carrying a flintlock musket.

“Show yourself!” Sebakhira snarled into the darkness.

There was a rustling sound, about one hundred yards away on the distant side of the park. A figure stepped through the moonlight and became visible. It was a young woman.

In that moment, Marisol realized that spotting anymore of Macavity’s characters in the real world was going to be easy. Most of them were beautiful women that would stand out in a crowd.

This woman in particular, stepping out of the darkness and approaching the group, was one Marisol found very familiar.

“Tenna.” She breathed.

“You know her?” Sebakhira asked.

“Yeah…” Marisol replied. “It’s a long story… but I kinda helped create her. She’s as much my character as she is Macavity’s.”

“Hey, Cho, if we’re about to get killed by one of our characters, you might as well use my real name.” Macavity said. “Call me Blake.”

“Marisol.” Marisol replied.

Blake cocked the hammer and raised his musket.

“That’s close enough, Tenna!” He yelled. “Stop there!”

Tenna Annora was a character from the story Song of the Solitaire. Marisol was heavily involved in Tenna’s creation to such an extent that even now, under the half-moonlight, she could see her own handiwork. Tenna was a sixteen year-old girl with out-of-control red hair and amber eyes. She had a few youthful freckles scattered about her face. Tenna wore a flowing blue dress that seemed to be made for a movie action hero; it included lightweight padded armor over the chest and shoulders, knee-length boots, and a utility belt.

Marisol gulped. The last time she had seen Tenna, at least two characters had rebelled against the author, Macavity. But that time, Tenna was safely confined to the pages of her own book.

This time around… Marisol and Blake were not so lucky.

Tenna began to speak. Just like Akira, Aisling, and Sebakhira, Tenna’s mouth movements did not match the words she spoke. It seemed as though her native language was being instantly translated into English in real-time by an invisible force. Marisol found it very off-putting.

“I just got here... Akira’s holding down the fort while we set up a proper gate for my master to use.” Tenna said.

Tenna’s face flushed at the word “master” and Marisol grimaced. It was an aspect of Tenna’s character that Marisol disliked and intended to erase in the sequel. Now, it looked like Marisol might not live to see that sequel.

“Has Akira filled you in yet?” Tenna spoke to Sebakhira. “She said we can force the author to make whatever changes we want to our worlds! We can fix everything that’s wrong before we get rid of him once and for all.”

“Blake, they’re gonna kill you.” Marisol gasped.

“Yeah. Kinda figured.” Blake whispered. “Start backing up. My car’s by the road. We’re gonna make a run for it.”

“Don’t you live in a terrible world where everyone is fighting all the time?” Tenna asked, taking a step forward. She looked as though she was pleading. “You can’t possibly want to defend him when it’s his fault we all live in eternal nightmares!”

Tenna pointed at Blake.

“You might wanna run.” He whispered to Marisol, “Before they decide they’re gonna kill you too.”

“Too late for that.” Marisol replied. “Aisling already picked a fight with Akira, and I’m worried for her. Also I’m worried for you, too. You really brought that thing to a superhero fight!?”

She tapped the musket.

“Short notice.” Blake grumbled. “You try planning a war against homemade gods.”

Meanwhile, the confrontation between Sebakhira and Tenna was rapidly spiraling out of control.

“I could never forgive that monster for what he’s done!” Tenna raised her voice, pointing one finger at Blake. A cluster of blue sparks shot out of her fingertip.

“I might agree with you… but I will decide for myself what kind of person the author is. Not you.” Sebakhira replied. “And certainly not the Paradox or your so-called master.”

Electricity popped and snapped around both Sebakhira and Tenna. Marisol grabbed Blake’s arm.

“Psionics.” She hissed. “Blake! They’re gonna wreck this little town.”

Blake lowered his rifle and shouted:

“Not here! Don’t fight here!”

Too late.

<=== Episode 2: The World of the Gods, Wellspring of Chaos

Episode 4: Who are you calling “Parent” and “Child!?”===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Author's note: While this chapter contains a reference to one of my previous stories: A Coldwar Affair, reading said story is not necessary to understand what's going on here.

<=== Episode 3: So this is how I understand it.

Episode 5: His name is Asimov and I think he likes you. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Four: Who are you calling “Parent” and “Child!?”

---

Marisol
Creator
Shiawassee County, Michigan


The first explosion shook the park like an earthquake. Marisol fell off her feet and tumbled to the ground in front of Blake. Blue light filled Marisol’s vision as Soulfire erupted into the air, igniting several nearby trees. Car alarms rent the air as the community of Shiatown quickly woke up in a panic.

Looking up, Marisol spotted Sebakhira. The anthropomorphic lioness had crossed her forelegs in front of her. A shimmering construct of purple light, shaped like a rectangle, had appeared in front of Sebakhira. Tenna’s Psionic attacks deflected off the Psionic barrier, flying off to strike trees and cars and houses.

“Stop!” Blake yelled. “Stop fighting now!”

He stepped forward, raising his musket.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Marisol yelled. “You’re gonna get killed!”

Tenna spotted Blake and turned, trying to direct her next attack onto him. A bolt of lightning jumped out of Tenna’s outstretched palm, aiming at Blake. Before it could reach him, the bolt hit an invisible field and scattered. Sebakhira was circling around in front of Blake, blocking all of Tenna’s strikes.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Blake yelled, aiming down the sights. The musket was aimed at Tenna’s face.

A large European wolf lunged out of the darkness and jumped Tenna, sinking its teeth into her right arm. Tenna screamed. So did Marisol.

“Aisling!” Marisol gasped.

“Move now!” Blake had reached Sebakhira.

He shoved the lioness aside and took aim.

“Aisling! Let go of her!” Marisol yelled. “He’s gonna shoot!”

Aisling picked up on Marisol’s voice and released Tenna, lumbering away with blood staining her jaws. A moment later, Marisol heard a loud clicking noise followed by a very loud crack of thunder.

Marisol knew what a musket was, and she expected the weapon in Blake’s hands to behave a certain way.

It did not.

Blake’s weapon emitted a flash of light that was, for a brief moment, brighter than the sun. Marisol was blinded for a few seconds, a shimmering white spot taking up the center of her field of vision. The blast also deafened Marisol and left her ears ringing. She scrambled to get back onto her feet, then noticed the other three fighters.

Aisling, Sebakhira, and Tenna were all on the ground, their eyes wide, clutching their ears and moaning in agony.

Tenna was the first one back on her feet. She tore the hem of her dress and wrapped the fabric around the bloody bite marks on her arm, fumbling as she went. She was clearly disoriented. Marisol stumbled on her feet, slowly starting to realize what had just happened.

“Fucking homemade flashbang.” Marisol gasped.

Marisol staggered toward Tenna, determined to put the wayward character back on the ground before she could do anything dangerous… but Blake reached her first.

A deadly kind of stillness fell over the park as Blake reached into his coat pocket and produced a pistol. Dropping the musket on the ground, Blake grabbed Tenna by the hair with one hand and pressed the barrel of the pistol into her chest with the other.

Marisol’s entire body filled with fear. She barely understood what was going on, what sort of nightmarish situation she had just stumbled into, but for some reason, the thought that she might witness a murder was troubling her more than the thought of being murdered.

“Wait! Stop!” She screamed reflexively.

Blake hesitated, finger on the trigger, and a moment later he lost his opportunity. A black shadow suddenly appeared in the folds of Tenna’s dress. It drew itself up and converged on the point where the barrel of Blake’s pistol was touching Tenna’s breast.

A moment later, the handgun crumbled to dust in his hands, falling down the front of Tenna’s dress and causing her to jump in fright. An invisible pulse of Telekinesis threw Blake away from Tenna, he tripped over Sebakhira and fell onto his back.

The people of Shiatown were now awake. House lights were on. Voices sounded from the darkness, but one drew closer.

“This is what you get for charging in without a plan, Annora!”

A man appeared from the darkness, coming from the south, which suggested he had crossed the Shiawassee River to get here. His feet squelched in the grass, leaving a muddy trail behind.

Marisol blinked furiously to get the white spot in her vision to go away, trying to get a better look at the newcomer. She spotted the bright red light of a Laser Pistol in his hand, which instantly gave him away as a character from the Stormbreaker Universe. (one of Blake’s earliest stories)

The newcomer was a lanky man with messy snow-white hair, brown skin, purple eyes, and tattoos on his neck and arms that depicted vaguely Polynesian symbols. This man was one of the Partogans, a fictional civilization (based heavily on the real-life Maori people) that prominently featured in the Stormbreaker Universe.

“Where’ve you been!?” Tenna shouted at the man. “Come on, Blake’s right here!”

“A Partogan?” Sebakhira said, getting shakily back to her own feet. “Here?”

The Partogan man narrowed his eyes at Sebakhira.

“Step aside, Levakian.” He spoke in a stern tone, referring to Sebakhira by the name of her species. “I don’t have a reason to fight you. Just him.”

Blake was back on his feet, fists clenched. Finally, Marisol’s brain got back into working order. She recognized the Partogan man, although it had taken a while.

This was Kiri Ranginui, main protagonist of A Coldwar Affair… the only book in the Stormbreaker Universe to be declared “non-canon” by the author. As far as the long-running sci-fi series was concerned, Kiri Ranginui did not exist.

Aisling was back on her feet as well. She bared her teeth and growled at Kiri. Marisol put herself between Blake and Kiri. She could hear police sirens. Kiri looked at Tenna and then dismissed her words.

“Nah. The authorities are coming and all of my nanobots are busy eating that gun. If we stick around, we won’t be able to get away. Let’s get out of here now.”

Kiri wrapped his arm around Tenna’s waist and pulled her away from the scene. A trail of black slime followed him, moving across the ground like a semi-corporeal snake.

“We need to get out of here.” Blake said, grabbing his musket off the ground. “This way, everyone. Into my car. You too, Chosenpai. In for a penny, in for a pound at this point.”

…

Blake’s car, a silver four-door sedan, made a dangerous creaking sound as Sebakhira clambered into the backseat. Marisol had never truly appreciated just how large and heavy a lion could be until she was seated in front of one. Aisling shapeshifted into a rabbit and curled up on the dashboard to make room for Sebakhira while Marisol took the front passenger seat.

“Where are we going!?” Marisol asked.

“We’re picking up a few things from my house, and then we’re going to meet someone who can help.” Blake said. “Keep your heads low, we’re going around the police.”

In the distance, Marisol could see several flashing red lights. Blake seemed to know Shiatown well. He turned onto a side-street and shut off the car’s headlights. All around, locals were emerging from their homes, smartphones aimed toward Shiatown Park, where two large pine trees were still on fire.

“Gonna get bumpy.” Blake said. “We’re going to cut across the farm field and head north. We’ve got about a twenty minute drive ahead of us… so I think some introductions are in order.”

Aisling made a squeaking noise and looked up at Blake.

“So… uh… yeah.” Blake started. “My name is Blake Robinson. I’m a writer… and author. And I created you. The girl in the passenger seat is Chosenpai. She helps me… and, uh… this is the first time we’ve actually met face-to-face.”

Sebakhira’s voice sounded from the back seat.

“Marisol is upset you don’t call her by her real name. Also, she is offended that you keep looking at her the way you would a child.”

“Fucking telepaths!” Blake shouted from the driver’s seat. “This mind-reading thing is going to get old real quick.”

Then he looked over at Marisol, who was wearing her emotions on her face.

“Right… Mary? Was it?” He asked.

“Marisol.” Marisol replied in a pouting tone. “Marisol Reyes. And I swear on Mary and Joseph, if you say I look like a child…”

“Marisol, you look like you’re four-foot-eight.” Blake retorted.

“I am four-foot-ten!” Marisol protested. “But that’s not important. What are we going to do about these two?”

She gestured to Aisling and Sebakhira. The lioness used her Telepathy again.

“Neither of you as surprised as one should be in a scenario like this.” Sebakhira said. “Is this the first time you’ve had to deal with a fictional character gone rogue?”

“Third.” Blake and Marisol said together.

“But this is the worst it’s ever gotten.” Marisol added. “We’ve never had to deal with more than one at a time.”

“And your type has never raised enough hell to get the State police involved.” Blake chimed in. “Speaking of involvement: I called Cali. She’s on her way here from Stockholm. She’s the one who prototyped that modified musket back there, by the way. Cali’s helped me figure out some anti-Psionic weapons in case something like this ever happened, and that was one of them. As soon as we pick up the essentials from my house, we’re heading out to meet her. We just need to keep a low profile and try to avoid fighting any other characters who jump into the real world.

Aisling hopped down from the dashboard and into Marisol’s lap. The little bunny rabbit gave Marisol an apologetic look, then turned around to face away from her. A moment later, Marisol gasped in fright as Aisling suddenly transformed into her human shape. Very suddenly, a teenage girl was sitting on Marisol’s lap, her shoulders pressing firmly into Marisol’s face. Marisol was grateful that Aisling was a lightweight, and that she had remembered to turn around before changing shape.

“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Marisol shouted into Aisling’s back. “You’re pinning my hands and feet. Can you move, please!?”

Aisling ignored Marisol and spoke to Blake.

“So you are a like a bard or chronicler? And you wrote stories about all of us? You should tell us about the others then, since you would know everything about them.”

“Well,” Blake sighed. “Everyone seems to have changed a little since they jumped out of the pages. Tenna was never supposed to be a warrior like that. She was a love interest for another hero. You know, Trig would save the day, defeat the villain, and then he’d get to have Tenna as a reward.”

“That has got to be the most horribly sexist thing I’ve heard all day.” Marisol mumbled from underneath Aisling. “Maybe you should go back to writing women, get some perspective.”

“What about the man?” Aisling inquired. Sebakhira leaned forward.

“That man is from my world.” Sebakhira said. “But I did not recognize him.”

“I wrote almost a dozen stories all set in the same world.” Blake replied. “Sebakhira, you lived in the middle of a much large story that goes for hundreds of years into the past and future. That man is called Kiri, and he’s from what you would call the future. He was born almost two hundred years after you.”

“I see.” Sebakhira replied. “Which means he would know about this Uprising you mentioned. Can you tell me about it?”

“Wait a minute.” Blake said. “You should know all about the Levakian Uprising. You were a key player at the Battle of Aoraki.”

Marisol wrapped her arms around Aisling’s stomach and pushed her aside, allowing her to address Blake. Aisling did not seem to mind. Her face was scrunched up against the passenger window and she found it fascinating.

“Hold on, Blake! This is a specific version of Sebakhira from an earlier part of Faith in Chaos. She doesn’t know about the Levakian Uprising. It probably hasn’t even started yet for her.”

Blake frowned, then turned the car onto a paved road, transitioning from a farmfield to the parking lot of the Islamic Center on M-21. He check left and right before pulling onto the state highway.

“There’s an easy way to find out what part of the story she’s from.” Blake said. “Tell me, Sebakhira… Who is the current Queen of Partoga and who is the current Empress of Levakia?”

Sebakhira replied quickly.

“The Partogan Queen just died… there was a news report about her this morning. Empress Jemima is a prisoner in her own palace.”

“Where are Jemima’s daughters?” Blake asked.

“Princess Coricopat and Princess Tantomile are both on the run.” Sebakhira answered. “Although Tantomile killed my employer, the King of Paku Nui, just recently.”

“Right, she’s from the end of Act Two, just before the start of the Royal Election Arc.” Blake said. “I know roughly where Tenna’s from. You were there when it all went down, Marisol.”

“Tenna was the most recent of your characters to rebel?” Sebakhira asked. “Am I correct?”

“If you can answer your own questions by reading minds, why ask at all?” Marisol asked.

“She’s forced to. It’s the way I wrote Sebakhira and all other Telepaths.” Blake said. “For the convenience of the reader.”

“Curious. I do not feel forced.” Sebakhira mused.

“Well, that’s because…” Blake started to say, but he stopped when Marisol giggled. “What?”

“You sound like a parent talking to their child.” Marisol giggled. “This whole situation is just kinda… I dunno. Silly.”

“Hey! Who are you calling ‘Parent’ and ‘Child!?’” Blake said. “In terms of physical and mental development, Sebakira is almost twice my age!”

Sebakhira let out a deep growling sound that caused Blake to jump.

“Fuck! I forgot the pre-2035 Levakians can’t purr.” He grumbled.

Aisling turned around, pivoting on top of Marisol’s lap until she was facing Sebakhira. (and pressing her knee into Marisol’s lower abdomen)

“Is that what you are?” Aisling asked. “Levakian is what your people are called?”

Sebakhira nodded.

“Yes, little darling. I am a member of the Levakian race. Who are you and what are your people called?”

“My name is Aisling, and I’m a daughter of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

“She’s a fairy.” Marisol grunted. “A fairy who’s pushing really hard against something she shouldn’t! Get off!”

Ailing apologized and shapeshifted into a small cat. She curled up in Marisol’s lap and began to purr loudly by way of apology. Sebakhira chucked and said to Marisol:

“Who are you? What are your people called?”

“Marisol. I’m from the Philippines. Nice to meet you.”

<=== Episode 3: So this is how I understand it.

Episode 5: His name is Asimov and I think he likes you. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Real life seems determined to dump everything and anything onto me these past couple of weeks. My job is keeping me far busier than normal right now, but things should go back to the "normal level of chaos" by this weekend. Still planning to create audiobook companions for The Broken Gates, but the schedule has definitely slipped.

In the meantime, bonus points go to anyone who can correctly guess the total number of PDX forum users who were referenced in this chapter.

<=== Episode 4: Who are you calling “Parent” and “Child!?”

Episode 6: We're from Paradox Interactive and we're here to help. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Five: His name is Asimov, and I think he likes you.

---

Marisol
Creator
Shiawassee County, Michigan


Blake drove for another ten minutes until he reached the outer limits of what he called “the city where I live.”

Marisol looked out the window and raised her eyebrow.

“Dude… I live in Manila. This is not a city. This is barely a town.” She scoffed.

Blake rolled his eyes and pulled into a residential neighborhood that was located between an Elementary School and the combined Middle School/High School. Aisling (having taken the shape of a small cat) was dazzled by the street lights and kept blinking her eyes repeatedly.

When Blake turned a corner, he reached up and pressed a button near the roof of the car. A garage door, attached to a house, began to open on its own. Aisling was startled and retreated into the folds of Marisol’s coat.

“This is my place.” Blake said. “I’m gonna try and get in touch with Cali. The rest of you eat some food and try to rest.”

…

At least for a few moments, Marisol was just like Aisling and Sebakhira, looking around every part of Blake’s house with equal parts wonder and awe.

“Just one American lives in a house this big?” Marisol gasped.

“No, my dad’s here too, somewhere.” Blake replied.

“Don’t you live in a house like this, Marisol?” Sebakhira asked.

“No, I live in a tiny apartment with my mom and my siblings.” Marisol replied. “You could fit my whole place into Blake’s kitchen.”

“And you’re just going to allow us to eat the food?” Aisling asked, peering into the pantry.

“Eat the groceries! Robinson family rule.” Blake said. “Now let me find… Dad! Hey Dad! Where are you?”

Blake disappeared down a hallway. Marisol looked around again and suddenly regretted turning down Blake’s original offer to pay her for her work as a beta reader. Marisol spent a few moments wondering whether she should open up to Blake about how close her family was to living in poverty. But then she decided against it. Talking about that topic would require Marisol admitting to things she was not proud of.

A noisy clattering sound caught Marisol’s attention. Aisling had withdrawn a large plastic bag from the pantry and tore it open, causing hundreds of tiny brown candies to scatter loudly across the wood floor. Sebakhira was holding onto her sides, laughing. Aisling looked like she was going to cry.

“I just wanted to see what they were.” The fairy choked. “They smelled delicious.”

“Hmm… speaking of smells…” Sebakhira muttered.

The lioness tilted her head toward the ceiling and took in several whiffs. At the same time, Marisol got down on her knees and grabbed one of the candies off the floor. She took a cautious nibble.

“Chocolate?” Marisol said. Then she popped the whole thing into her mouth and let out a happy squeal.

“Chocolate-covered blueberries! I’ve had these before, they’re so good.”

Aisling’s face lit up. She dropped to her hands and knees and began eating the little candies as fast as she could grab them. Each time Aisling popped a chocolate-covered blueberry into her mouth, she let out a moan of joyous ecstasy that could be easily mistaken for something less wholesome.

Meanwhile, Sebakhira was looking at the far end of the kitchen, where a pair of green eyes was looking out of the basement door. A tiny black cat, hidden in the darkness, locked eyes with Sebakhira and licked his chops.

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” Sebakhira said to the cat. “Are your brothers nearby? I can smell them.”

The black cat flicked his tail and stood his ground.

A moment later, Blake re-entered the kitchen, followed by another man. Marisol did a double-take.

“Who is this guy?” She said.

The man standing next to Blake was a sixty-year-old white American, he had a full beard of black and silver and a slightly jovial expression.

“This is my dad, J.D.” Blake said. “I know, naming characters after myself and my family is an uncreative idea, I’ve heard it all before. Let’s move on.”

J.D. Robinson looked from Aisling to Sebakhira and finally to Marisol, a bewildered expression on his face.

“How does that work?” Marisol asked incredulously. “You’re black! He’s white!”

Blake narrowed his eyes and replied coldly:

“Never seen a mixed-race family before, huh? My mom’s black, that’s where I get it from.”

J.D. shrugged, pointed at Marisol, and said:

“So you’ve started dating island girls now, huh? I told you so! Your tastes would change as you got older.”

Both Blake and Marisol blushed.

“Dude! I’m not dating her. She’s my beta reader, and she’s child-sized!” Blake snapped.

“What’s wrong with being able to bench-press your girlfriend?” J.D. replied, giving his son a very mischievous grin. Sebakhira was trying to hold back another laugh.

“We’re not dating and I’m not child-sized!” Marisol replied.

“Said the kid who needs a booster seat.” Blake shot back.

“Four. Feet. Ten.” Marisol seethed.

Blake looked over Marisol’s shoulder and spotted Aisling on the floor.

“Oh, God.” He breathed. “Aisling, how many of those did you eat!?”

Aisling, human-shaped once again, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, clutching the bag of chocolate-covered blueberries in one hand and happily licking the fingers of her other hand. There was chocolate smeared around her lips.

“They’re so good!” Aisling declared.

Blake pinched his nose.

“You’re totally gonna get sick.” He said. “Bathroom is down that hallway to the right.”

“The what?” Aisling asked.

She stood up and cautiously moved out the kitchen, exploring the rest of the house. Blake’s father watched her go, then looked back at Blake.

“I know I’ve been pushing really hard for you to find a girlfriend, son… but you know you’re only allowed one at a time, right?”

Blake looked like he was going to explode. Marisol fought the urge to laugh at his expense… and she lost.

“So… Blake... having trouble finding girls?” She sniped.

“Shut up.” Blake retorted.

He shook his head and then pulled a smartphone from his pocket.

“Meanwhile, I got a message from Cali. She’s on her way here. She just got side-tracked at Capital Region Airport… but she’s on the move again.”

“Side-tracked?” Sebakhira asked. “Did your friend say how she was waylaid?”

“No.” Blake replied. “But she did say she would tell us about it when she got here.”

At that moment, a loud scream issued from the hallway. Blake, J.D., Sebakhira, and Marisol ran out of the kitchen.

Aisling had dropped the bag of candies and, in her fright, shapeshifted into a wolf. Hackles raised, she was growling at a small white object in the hallway. Blake saw it and then began to laugh.

“Calm down, Aisling. That thing isn’t going to hurt you.”

“What is it?” Sebakhira and Marisol both asked.

“My robot.” Blake replied. “When I was younger I loved building with LEGO… it’s uh… LEGO is a type of plastic construction toy. Anyway, I built a motorized, programmable robot out of LEGO. That’s what you’re looking at, Aisling. His name is Asimov and I think he likes you.”

Asimov let out a series of shrill beeps and then spoke in a stilted, computerized voice.

“I am A51-M0V. Please identify.”

“A robot?” Sebakhira replied. “So it’s not sapient?”

Blake winced.

“Well, the last time Cali was here, she insisted on using her nanobots to upgrade him. I don’t really know what she did to him. Azzie just kinda lives in his own world now and I don’t ask questions.”

Aisling snarled at Asimov.

“Hostile.” Asimov declared before turning around on its little plastic wheels and moving away.

Blake’s father, meanwhile, was looking at Aisling.

“Hey Blake, is that the Sidhe girl you were telling me about?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Blake replied.

J.D. stepped into the living room, located adjacent to the hallway, and started running his hand across the bookshelf, looking for something. Aisling turned back into a girl.

“Your father knows about my kind?” She asked.

“My dad’s side of the family is Irish.” Blake explained. “Immigrated to America back in the 1880’s.”

Blake’s father returned moments later with a small green book in his hand.

“Here, Blake.” J.D. said. “You might need the glossary in the back of this book.”

It was a copy of The Dreaming Tree by C.J. Cherryh. The final pages of the book were dedicated to a small glossary of old English, Welsh, and Celtic names.

…

---

Kiri Ranginui
Creation
Wayne County, Michigan


The largest city in Michigan is called Detroit. It is a sprawling metropolis, and its location next to both a waterborne trade route and an international border make it the beating heart of Michigan’s economy.

Tucked away between art deco facades of bigger and better things is a quaint, three-story brick building. The second and third floors are covered in windows, each a little portrait into the lives of the folks living behind them. The first floor, though, has only a single oaken door behind a wrought-iron security grate.

On either side of it hangs a myriad of flags. A platypus skeleton on navy blue, an assortment of pride flags, and of course the proud flag of the city itself: flags on flags, watched over by two women: one weeping at what was lost, the other comforting her with what was to come. From the ashes we rise again, she seems to say. A humble sign above the door proclaims:

Whiskey in the jAAR​

The establishment is a cozy bar, with restaurant-style seating available for those who wanted more than a drink. Nearly three dozen taps stand tall in front of a wall of spirits that would make even the most seasoned connoisseur blush.

Standing across the street from the bar, four people lurked in the shadows.

Akira Robinson folded her arms and listened while one of her companions tried to argue with her.

“I had him! Why the hell did you have Kiri pull me back!?” Tenna Annora was furious.

“To kill the author right now would have been a waste.” Akira replied. “Remember what Malum told us before we went through the Gate? ‘We have to make this count for something.’ Taking down Blake is just the beginning of something greater. He must die at the right moment, and that was not it.”

Tenna folded her arms, momentarily looking a little like her younger self.

“Sounds like you’re just making excuses for Malum. He doesn’t need this stupid complicated plan. Just go in there, turn Blake into a red mist, move on to the next thing. It’s not that hard!”

“You remain short-sighted.” Akira replied. “We’ll fix that in time.”

Kiri Ranginui, standing on Akira’s right, nodded in assent. Then he produced a tablet computer.

“Here we go.” He announced. “The user called ‘Chac1’ just logged out of the forums. He’s gone.”

The fourth member of the group shifted on their feet.

“If you’re right, we may be able to accelerate our plans.” The fourth person said. “We could bring Malum into this world much earlier than we thought.”

“I’ll cross my fingers.” Kiri replied. “I wish you luck, your majesty.”

A moment later, the heavy oak door opened and someone stepped out of the Bar. The person who emerged was a slender young Caucasian woman with dirty blonde hair. Kiri recognized her at once. Even though she was dressed in the garb of a barmaid, this woman was clearly a character from a story written by Macavity116.

“Incredible.” Kiri breathed. “This Chac fellow actually managed to get Erin Bowie to return to work… even after Blake told her to hide.”

“Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” Akira said, then she addressed the fourth person in her group. “Move. Now.”

…

Kiri locked eyes on the fourth person as they began to move. What happened next defies explanation… but this is roughly what Kiri saw:

A female Maori warrior, dressed in nothing but a knee-length grass skirt and armed with a shark-tooth spear, began to cross the street, nimbly weaving her way between cars, trucks, and pedestrians. There were hundreds of people in the area… and yet… No one acknowledged her. The warrior was plainly visible to Kiri, who held his eyes open, knowing that if he lost track of her for even a moment, he too would lose the ability to see her.

Psionic energy rippled off the Maori warrior as she advanced on the Bar. Erin Bowie was now out of the door and iron security gate. She was walking away. The door was starting to swing shut. Out of an abundance of caution, Tenna retreated into the shadows of a nearby alleyway, where she drew a gauss pistol and pointed it across the street, aiming directly at the back of Erin Bowie’s head. Tenna held her fire.

The security gate was almost shut. The Maori warrior quickened her pace. She jumped and slid across the hood of a car, its driver completely oblivious to both her presence and action. With only one second to spare, the warrior reached the Bar and stuck her foot in the gate. Then she reached forward and used a barely noticeable pulse of telekinesis to hold the heavy oak door open. She pushed by the gate and vanished inside of the Bar, allowing the door to shut behind her.

…

---

Whetu Kealoha
Creation
The bAAR, Paradox Interactive Forums


Whetu Kealoha was the main protagonist of a long-forgotten Macavity116 story, written in the early days of his time as a member of the Paradox Interactive Forums. She was a fifteen-year-old Partogan girl who lived and died during a story event called “the Wars of the Famine.”

Whetu was nearly distracted by the overwhelming abundance of food and drink in the bAAR, but she managed to keep her composure and regained focus.

Whetu was making use of her special Psionic power to remain undetected. So long as she held her focus, Whetu could stop other people from perceiving her presence. Unfortunately, this superpower could not defeat technology like security cameras. She would have to move fast.

Holding her shark-tooth spear close, Whetu began to maneuver through the bAAR. She ducked behind a bearded man as he raised a glass and made a declaration in a mild Georgia accent. Then she skillfully evaded a British person wearing a Eurovilla tee-shirt. After that, Whetu had a close call where an old man stared at her with such intensity that Whetu briefly feared she had been spotted. However, the old man was looking through her. He began speaking to someone behind her instead, someone who referred to this gentleman as “The Father of AARLand.”

Finally, Whetu found what she was looking for: a massive stack of bookshelves. Nearby, a wooden sign proclaimed this to be The Inkwell.

Just beyond the Inkwell, on the other side of the bookshelves, Whetu could see a passageway.

Whetu reached down to the flax band that held up her grass skirt. She withdrew a very small walkie-talkie and pushed the talk button three times.

Akira was waiting for this very signal.

It meant Malum would come to the real world far earlier than planned.

<=== Episode 4: Who are you calling “Parent” and “Child!?”

Episode 6: We're from Paradox Interactive and we're here to help. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Good news, dear readers! @The Kingmaker has nominated this story for the Weekly AAR Showcase. Since my intention was to post a chapter today anyways, I'm going to release Episode 7 this weekend. (on Sunday instead of Tuesday)

Enjoy!

<=== Episode 5: His name is Asimov, and I think he likes you.

Episode 7: She’s not an object, don’t talk about her like that. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Six: We’re from Paradox Interactive and we’re here to help.

---

Marisol
Creator
Shiawassee County, Michigan


“Blake... these two are gonna eat you out of house and home.” Marisol said.

Blake did not reply. He just nodded in agreement.

Sebakhira had gotten into the refrigerator and found something that made her very happy.

“Mmm. The food in this world has such multilayered flavors and is very delicious.” The lioness declared, flicking her tail back and forth as she ate in a very sloppy fashion.

“Uh... Sebakhira... that’s a turkey.” Blake said. “A raw... uncooked... turkey. We were saving that for a family get-together.”

Sebakhira sank her claws into what remained of the turkey.

“Mmm, yes. You are a most gracious host for sharing such a wonderful bounty with us.” Sebakhira said through a mouthful of turkey meat.

Aisling tried to say something, but her mouth was full.

“That’s a salad.” Marisol giggled. “Aren’t you going to put any dressing on it?”

“Dressing?” Aisling replied curiously, grabbing a handful of cold spinach leaves right out of the refrigerator and stuffing them in her mouth.

Marisol shook her head.

“Blake, if we live through this, promise me that you’ll write more food into your books.”

“Consider it done.” Blake replied. “I don’t think I wrote a single food-related thing in either of their stories, so these ladies have only known grey goo... if that.”

...

While the group waited for Cali’s arrival, Blake’s father pulled Marisol aside and started asking questions about her personal life. It felt very much like the type of conversation Marisol might have if she was meeting her boyfriend’s father for the first time.

She gave J.D. a quick rundown of her life story, starting with the death of her father.

“When I was one year old, my father went off to war.” Marisol explained. “There were Islamist rebels in the south, trying to take Mindanao Island and break away from the Philippines to make their own country. The war went for almost fifty years. My father went to Mindanao and fought terrorists all the time. He was only home for a little while, then he had to go again. He got killed when I was six.”

Blake brewed some hot cocoa and served it to the group, making sure to give Aisling a smaller serving, as she was rapidly eating her way through all of the sweets in the house. Then he sat down to listen.

“My mom, my sister, my brother and I all started working. We had to bring in as much money as we could so that we didn’t lose our apartment. Momma, Mariposa and I all got into the hospitality service. My brother’s still too young to get a full-time job anywhere so Momma and I bring in the most money.”

“What do you do for work?” J.D. asked.

“I’m an air stewardess. Asiana Airlines.” Marisol replied. “I’m the only one in my family without a criminal record, so flying out of the country is easy for me.”

J.D. tried to press her for more information, asking about how she met Blake, but Marisol did not go into further explanations. Instead, she said she was uncomfortable and needed some fresh air.

…

Amidst the general chaos of the past few hours, Marisol had somehow managed to keep hold of her skateboard. She felt naked, riding around without a helmet or protective pads, but it was still a good way to relieve stress. Blake’s house was at the top of a small hill, so Marisol was able to lose herself for a few minutes, rolling through the darkened street. Even though it was late at night, only two streetlamps were illuminated. Again, Marisol found the darkness of a Michigan night to be overwhelming.

“What’s that down there?” A soft voice called out.

Aisling was sitting on the branches of a tree in Blake’s front yard, kicking her feet and looking like a much smaller child than what Marisol had seen previously. She pointed to a building at the end of the street.

“It’s bigger than Ulster Castle.” Aisling remarked.

“That’s the local High School.” Marisol replied. “Blake said he lived close to it.”

“Schools are huge in this world.” Aisling sounded awestruck. “I wonder what the castles are like.”

“Why are you out here?” Marisol asked.

“I saw a cat through the window. Now I can’t find him.”

“Probably a local stray.” Marisol replied.

Aisling shapeshifted into a squirrel, sniffing the air intensely. Marisol looked back at the house. She could see through the front window. Blake and Sebakhira were in the living room. He was holding a laptop computer and reading aloud. Marisol took a few steps closer and strained her ears to listen.

Blake was reading aloud from one of his previous stories:

“All of the Stormbreakers cheered at their own success… all except Varian, who had a look of dawning realization on her (or his) face.

‘Hey, Ninu.’ Varian said. ‘Were you sensing Psionic energy at all during… all of that?’

Ninu nodded.

‘The whole time.’

Varian’s eyes went wide. Then he (or she) turned around and started walking towards a nearby tree. It was still on fire and was dropping hot embers as though they were autumn leaves. Before anyone could object, Varian reached out and grabbed the tree trunk, putting their entire hand and wrist into the flames, and pressing their palm against the hot embers.

‘Varian! What are you doing!?’ Corder screamed.

‘It’s not real.’ Varian muttered. ‘Fire’s not real. The whole thing’s fake.’

As soon as Varian said the words, the illusion was shattered for the other Stormbreakers. Instantly, the forest fire vanished. The air became cool. And down in the valley, the Stormbreakers could see that Hyatt and her followers were still trapped in the illusion of a wildfire. They cried out for Jericho to save them from a nonexistent threat, and one of the Acolytes waved his arms about as though his clothes were on fire.”

Sebakhira narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. But then, something happened. Blake raised his voice in alarm.

“What the!? What’s happening here?”

Marisol could not see the screen of Blake’s laptop, but she could see the blue light suddenly appear in his face. She ran forward and banged her fists on the window.

“Blake!” She yelled. “Drop it! Another character’s coming out!”

A rushing sound caught Marisol’s attention, and she turned around just in time to see what was happening. Just like back in her hotel room, a translucent disk had appeared in midair, looking not unlike a wormhole from Stellaris.

Two people fell out of the Vortex Portal, which quickly began to shrink. Both of the newcomers failed to stick the landing and collapsed in the grass. Blake and Sebakhira ran out into the yard. Blake was clutching his musket in both hands, covering the new arrivals while Sebakhira turned her attention to the rapidly shrinking portal.

“If it worked in The Stormbreakers...” Sebakhira said aloud.

Then she pulled one arm back, motioning as though she was going to throw something. A shimmering purple rod appeared in her paw. It was a Psionic Lance, a construct of telekinetic energy that could be used to harm an enemy. Sebakhira hurled the Psi Lance with all her might and the bolt sailed into the Vortex Portal. Just as the Portal closed and vanished, Sebakhira raised her hackles and let out a deep growl.

“I hit someone.” She said. “I could feel it.”

“Both of you stay down!” Blake yelled at the newcomers. “I can see your concealed weapons. Don’t try anything! Marisol, get their guns. The girl has a gun in her vest, right side! The guy has a gun in his waistband… or girl… or is it… aw FUCK! It’s you!”

Marisol approached the woman first. She was very small, almost the same size as Aisling when the fairy was in human shape. She had white skin and pointed ears that immediately made Marisol think about elves from The Lord of the Rings, and most noticeable of all, this woman had two tattoos: On her face, just where her left eyebrow should have been, there was a narrow symbol instead. And on the woman’s right inner forearm, Marisol could see the number 0214 tattooed in a very similar style to the tattoos found on Holocaust survivors. Marisol quickly found the Plasma Pistol in the woman’s vest and took it, alarmed by how heavy it was.

“That…” Blake said. “Is Mina Soban-Re. She’s the deuterogamist and love interest from A Coldwar Affair. I wrote her a couple years back.”

“You know me.” Mina Soban-Re spoke, the Hiigaran language somehow instantly converting to English as the words left her mouth. “You’re the author that alien told us about.”

Marisol and Blake turned their attention to the other person… and Marisol hesitated, unsure if she was dealing with a man or a woman. This confusion allowed Marisol to quickly figure out the stranger’s identity:

“And you must be Varian Robinson!” Marisol said. She reached down and grabbed a Gauss Pistol out of Varian’s waistband. “Or should we skip all that and just call you Victoria?”

Varian Robinson was a young adult, just nineteen years old. He (or she) had a messy mop of black hair, caramel-colored skin, vaguely Asian features, and a highly androgynous body type, which made it impossible to tell at a glance whether Varian was male or female.

Marisol had read The Last Heroes one year ago. She knew that while Varian presented outwardly as androgynous, the character was secretly Transgender and was planning to embrace their “true identity” as a woman named Victoria. However, Marisol’s casual use of the feminine name caused Varian to react badly. This meant she was dealing with an earlier version of the character.

“How do you know that name!?” Varian asked in a panicked voice. “That’s supposed to be secret!”

“Maybe we should refrain from spoiling their stories.” Blake recommended. “It’s bad enough we somehow managed to draw a member of the Robinson family. I’m just glad it wasn’t Chihiro, or God-forbid, Blake himself.”

Then he aimed his musket at Varian. Marisol knew Blake was bluffing. Neither of these characters had Psionic powers, meaning they would not be affected by the homemade Anti-Psionic weapon. Even so, Marisol put her hands on her hips and tried to make herself look intimidating, tilting her head so the glare of the streetlights would reflect in her glasses.

“Let me guess…” Blake said. “A blue-skinned alien told you that I’m the guy who created your worlds and that you should kill me?”

“Something like that.” Varian replied.

Marisol noticed that Varian was speaking English from the outset. Her (or his) words matched their mouth movements. Varian jerked their head at Mina.

“This one was all on board the plan to kill you… but then I saw who that Malum guy was working with, and I knew I would jump ship as soon as he sent us through the Gate.”

Mina shot a glare at Varian. Marisol knew that if she was not being held at gunpoint, Mina would have attacked Varian in that moment.

“Hold on… who is Malum working with?” Blake asked. “I know about Kiri and Tenna.”

Blake looked up at Marisol.

“Didn’t you say something about Akira, too?”

Marisol nodded.

“Yeah, Akira’s here.” She replied.

Varian’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m supposed to be killing Akira, not working with her.” She (or he) responded. “I’m not doing anything she wants, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you guys. But the Hiigaran chick? We’re at war with Hiigara anyway. Might as well waste her.”

Mina flinched at how casually Varian suggested killing her.

“Your world is at war with Hiigara.” Marisol interjected. “Not this one. Now who’s Malum working with? Tell us and we’ll get you out of the cold.”

Varian turned to Blake.

“You look like a younger version of my grandpa.” Varian said.

“He’s a fictional version of me.” Blake replied. “Same name, same face. I wrote myself into the stories. Happy? Now tell me who Malum’s working with already!”

A half-smile crossed Varian’s features.

“Akira, obviously. Then there’s a human called Uisce. Tenna, she’s a humanoid. Can’t miss her, red hair. Two aliens, a brother and a sister. There’s an older version of Nezzie’s sister, Cassandra. A Partogan called Whetu who’s just naked all the time and no one seems to care… oh… and Mina’s boyfriend.”

“Kiri.” Mina said. “His name’s Kiri.”

Blake lowered his musket.

“We’re up shit creek without a paddle.” Blake remarked. “Marisol, Aisling. Let’s get these two inside. Try to make some sense out of this catastrophe.”

Just before Marisol stepped through the front door, she noticed one of Blake’s neighbors, standing on the front porch of her house, watching the scene play out with a cellphone to her ear.

…

“Okay, so for the both you: in your plot, this place would be considered the past. But this isn’t time travel. You’ve figured that out, haven’t you?”

Blake was trying to gauge just how much Mina and Varian knew about the situation. Aisling took an interest in Mina’s tattoos while Sebakhira was silently reading Varian’s mind with a curious expression on her face. Varian was motivated to join Blake and Marisol’s side simply because Akira was on the opposing side. Mina, however, was not swayed.

“You’re the reason I can’t be with Kiri.” She said, narrowing her eyes at Blake. “I can’t forgive you for using my love life to entertain a bunch of strangers.”

“Kiri?” J.D. asked.

“Her love interest.” Blake replied. “The guy who showed up in Shiatown when Tenna confronted us.”

J.D. put his hand on Blake’s shoulder.

“Well, if you can’t be with him… why not consider this young man?”

Blake shot an angry look at his father, who seemed to be enjoying his time as a wildcard. Mina gripped her right arm tightly, covering up the ID number tattooed there.

“I don’t date humans.” She replied in a voice full of suppressed hatred.

“Are you done trying to get me killed?” Blake snapped. “Look, Mina. Sorry to do this, but the situation is just too dangerous. If you’re going to remain hostile, I’m just gonna have to detain you.”

“Detain?” Aisling repeated.

“That means we are going to take her prisoner.” Sebakhira quickly explained. Then she looked at Blake. “You don’t need to leave the room to gather zip-ties. Allow me.”

A pulse of telekinetic energy rippled out of Sebakhira. A moment later, several plastic zip-ties flew through the air, emerging from the basement, and gently placed themselves in Blake’s hands. Mina narrowed her eyes at Sebakhira.

“Right… hands behind your back, Mina.” Blake said. “I promise no one is going to hurt you, but we need to keep ourselves safe.”

Right at that very moment, all of the lights went out. The house fell silent as the electric power was shut off.

“A blackout?” Varian said.

As if in reply, there was a tinkle of breaking glass. Something had just smashed the living room window. Marisol looked around and spotted a small cylindrical object on the floor.

“What is that?” She asked. Blake looked down, then screamed:

“FLASHBANG!”

Suddenly, the world was full of light and noise. Marisol was dazzled and barely noticed as she fell over, blind and deaf. Someone jumped on top of her and forced Marisol to roll over onto her belly. Cold metal closed around her wrists, pinning her hands behind her back. A moment later, Marisol regained the ability to hear. She could just perceive a woman’s voice saying:

“Calm down everyone! This is for your own safety! My name is Cali D’Kara and this is my go-team. We’re from Paradox Interactive and we’re here to help.”

<=== Episode 5: His name is Asimov, and I think he likes you.

Episode 7: She’s not an object, don’t talk about her like that. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

<=== Episode 6: We're from Paradox Interactive and we're here to help.

Episode 8: We’re just having a little war out here. How are you? ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Seven: She’s not an object; don’t talk about her like that.

---

Marisol
Creator
Oakland County, Michigan


Up until this moment, Marisol had felt as though this whole situation had been a fun adventure, much like the sci-fi fanfics she loved to read. But now, a harsh kind of reality set in as she was bundled into the back of an armored van before it drove away to destinations unknown.

In the rear of the van, Marisol, Blake, J.D., Aisling, Varian, and Mina were seated on a metal bench, their hands cuffed behind their backs. Sebakhira was curled up on the floor, while half-a-dozen men and women dressed in urban combat fatigues took up the bench on the other side. One of the men was carrying a black canvas bag.

One woman stood out from the rest of the group. She had spiky purple hair and was very tall in comparison to those around her. She leaned forward to speak, adjusting her black helmet so that it hid her pointed ears from view. When the woman began to talk, Marisol noticed that she spoke in English with a light, barely perceptible Swedish accent. (her voice carried a sing-song melody)

“My name is Cali D’Kara.” She said. “I apologize for the violent introduction, but our inside man reported Blake was holding someone at gunpoint, so we decided to make the whole situation safe as quickly as possible.”

“Inside man?” Blake repeated.

A loud beeping sound came from the canvas bag. The man holding it opened the neck and produced a small robot made out of LEGO.

“Internal IMU limit!” Asimov said. “Unit has rolled over. Check for damage.”

“You’re holding him upside down.” Blake muttered. “Serves the little spy right.”

Cali took Asimov and held the little robot in her lap. Then she said:

“Who here is new to this world?”

Varian, Sebakhira, Aisling, and Mina turned to look at Cali.

“Four more… fuck.” Cali said. She shot an unpleasant look at J.D., and then she looked at Marisol. “Who the hell are you?”

“Marisol Reyes.” Marisol replied quickly. “I’m Blake’s beta reader.”

“Okay, Blake emailed me about you.” Cali said. Then she addressed the group.

“So for those of you who don’t know, my name is Cali, and I’ve already been through what you’ve experienced. I was a character in two of Blake’s stories until I fell through the Fourth Wall and ended up in the real world. I’ve been here for a little less than a year now.”

“Question.” Varian interrupted. “Are you a Hiigaran?”

“No. I’m Alari.” Cali replied. “Blake reused the Hiigaran template when he made up my species. Our physical appearance and language are lifted from the Hiigarans.”

Mina’s eyes went wide and then she started speaking in a language that was not English. Cali turned and locked eyes with Mina, replying in the same tongue. Marisol strained her ears, listening hard. She knew that whenever Blake needed a fictional language for his stories, he would often “borrow” a language from the real world and use it as a stand-in. Marisol had been exposed to many different languages while working as aircrew… and she quickly figured it out.

“Hindi.” Marisol muttered to herself. “They’re speaking Hindi.”

Cali held up a hand and switched back to English.

“Okay, Hiigaran and Alari are similar enough that we can understand each other. That’s good to know… it also looks like the Babelfish Anomaly is still in full effect, too. We’ll need to keep an eye on that.”

“Babelfish Anomaly?” Marisol asked.

“Haven’t you noticed that you can all understand each other? Even though you’re speaking different languages?” Cali said. “We noticed it after we picked up the other two outside of town.”

Marisol and Blake both dropped their jaws.

“Other two?” Marisol repeated.

“We caught two more of your characters, Blake.” Cali said. “As we were rolling into your town, we found them trying to infiltrate. My men are interrogating them right now. Speaking of… hey Astrad! Are we there yet!?”

…

The armored van pulled off the road and came to a stop at a disused State Police outpost in Oakland County, just outside of the greater Detroit Metropolitan Area. Here, a convoy of black armored cars and trucks were loitering, engines still running. Marisol and Blake were told to step off the truck and into the parking lot.

Their hands still cuffed behind their backs, Blake and Marisol were guided to a large armored truck. It had been parked strategically so that no one on the highway could see what was happening behind it. A group of armed SWAT specialists were holding two people at gunpoint.

“More of your characters, Blake.” Marisol said.

She recognized one of them immediately. He was a teenage boy, roughly fifteen or sixteen years old. He had sandy blonde hair, indigo-colored eyes, and a very strong build, as though he had spent most of his teenage years laboring in a farmfield.

“Trig Shepminter, it’s so nice to meet you.” Marisol said. “In person I mean.”

The boy called Trig startled, looking around at Marisol.

“Appia!?” Trig gasped, then his face fell. “No… but you’ve got her voice.”

Next to Trig was an alien. It took Marisol a few seconds to realize she was staring at a very large bird-like creature. It was afflicted with albinism: all of the bird’s feathers were white, and its eyes blood-red. While Blake spoke to Trig, Marisol quickly realized what this creature was: it was a peahen! The female variety of peafowl.

The albino peahen looked directly at Marisol and spoke to her:

“That peahen has a name. I am Kanti Divakar, and I’m Vanian.”

Marisol staggered on her feet.

“Okay, first there was a talking lion, now there’s a talking bird.” She breathed. “I need to go back to church.”

One of the SWAT operatives gestured to Kanti and said:

“So this bird is another one of your Creations, Robinson?”

This comment got a rise out of Marisol.

“She’s not an object; don’t talk about her like that.” Marisol snapped.

“Hey, uh… these two are both Gifted.” Blake said. “They’re probably having a telepathic conversation this whole time.”

Cali narrowed her eyes at Trig and Kanti.

“Alright then, they’ll come with us.”

“Come where?” Marisol asked.

“Stockholm.” Cali replied. “To Paradox Interactive. I promised I would bring all of you to the Countermeasures Committee to figure out our next move.”

Both Marisol and Blake protested.

“I can’t go to Sweden!” Marisol said. “My flight back to Manila leaves tomorrow, and my passport is in the hotel back in Flint! I won’t have a way to get home!

“I can’t go to Sweden either!” Blake added. “The National Guard is drilling this weekend. If I go M.I.A., you’ll have the entire Michigan State Police out hunting for me!”

Cali rounded on Marisol and Blake.

“The two of you caused this situation.” Cali seethed. “Especially you, Blake. Dragging this poor girl into your selfish fantasies, you’ve got no shame.”

Cali looked like she wanted to go on, but she was interrupted. Three state police cars raced past the scene on the highway, lights and sirens on. A moment later, Cali’s radio crackled.

“D’Kara? This is Magnusson. We’ve got a situation developing in Downtown Detroit. There’s a mass shooting on Jefferson Avenue. Gunman is using sci-fi weapons consistent with previous reports.”

Cali signaled the other SWAT operatives.

“Everyone load up! We’re going to Detroit!”

Marisol and Blake both raised their voices to get Cali’s attention.

“It sounds like one of my characters is raising hell over there.” Blake said.

“In that case… we might be able to help!” Marisol added. “Maybe you could uncuff all of us?”



…

---

Tenna Annora
Creation
Wayne County, Michigan


Tenna used telekinesis to throw a man off his motorcycle. Then she mounted the bike and revved the engine, roaring down Jefferson Avenue at speed. Her dress billowed in the wind like a parachute. To her left, Tenna saw Downtown Detroit. To her right was the Detroit River and the Canadian border.

“You found the new person? Where!?” Tenna yelled into the mouthpiece of her headset.

“Just follow the sirens.” A voice replied. “Getting this new person on our side might be out of the question.”

Nearly two dozen emergency vehicles had congregated outside of the GM Renascence Center, the tallest building in the State of Michigan. Something terrifying was happening here.

Just fifty feet away from the base of the tower, a brown-skinned woman with wild grey hair was aiming a Laser Rifle into the entrance of the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel. Whenever a vehicle emerged from the underground border crossing, she opened fire at it, causing drivers to panic and swerve. Several wrecked cars and trucks were burning nearby.

Detroit police officers were firing their own weapons at her, but seemed to be having no effect whatsoever. As Tenna dismounted her stolen motorbike and approached on foot, she heard one of the police officers say:

“Message from Lansing! It’ll take an hour to scramble the National Guard!”

“National Guard!?” The Wayne County Sherriff replied. “Does the Army know what’s happening here!?”

The strange woman turned away from the tunnel entrance and began firing her Laser Rifle at the police cars.

“Find cover!” The cops yelled.

A man and a woman spotted Tenna and ran over to her. Both of these people had hair that was dyed in bright pastel colors and pointed ears. They were Alari characters from one of Macavity116’s stories.

The man, Dak J’Bassim, pointed at the mass shooter, then yelled to Tenna.

“Tell Malum there’s no chance in hell we can make an ally out of her!” Dak yelled. “She’s rogue! She’s insane!”

“She tried to shoot us both!” Replied the woman. This was Dak’s younger sister, Moka J’Bassim.

Laser fire raked the scene. Tenna, Dak, and Moka threw themselves to the ground. The police broke ranks and began to retreat.

“Screw this! I’m taking her down!” Tenna said.

She stood up and threw herself over a burning police car, facing this new threat.

The woman was Partogan, dressed in a Triple Alliance military uniform from the Second Hyperspace War. (one of Blake’s oldest stories) Her face was so completely covered in Maori tattoos that it was very difficult to discern details about the dangerous woman. As soon as she saw Tenna, the stranger raised her Laser Rifle and took aim.

Tenna raised a Telekinetic Shield with one hand, deflecting the first laser beam effortlessly. The crimson bolt sailed off-target and struck the Scientology building down the street, setting it on fire. Tenna summoned her willpower and put her free hand to her heart. Blue Soulfire ignited in her palm, brighter than the inferno around her.

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Tenna yelled to her enemy.

The woman laughed. It was the high, cold laugh of a psychopath.

“What’s my name matter to you?” She replied. “Leave me alone if you wanna live!”

Tenna opened her palm and loosed a volley of Soulfire. The blue flames shot across the street toward the stranger, only to be deflected at the last moment. A shimmering Telekinetic shield materialized in front of the madwoman, and moments later, four figures came racing into view: a lioness, a peahen, a girl, and a boy.

Sebakhira, Kanti, Aisling, and Trig quickly placed themselves between the madwoman and Tenna. Trig raised his hand and spoke into a cell phone.

“We found them!” Trig said.

Kanti turned around and looked at the madwoman, a sorrowful expression on her face.

“Oh, no…” Kanti said. “Shepminter! Tell D’Kara the mass shooter in the reports is an old friend of mine: Kailani Kalili.”

<=== Episode 6: We're from Paradox Interactive and we're here to help.

Episode 8: We’re just having a little war out here. How are you? ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Author's notes:

This chapter contains excerpts from the essay Artificial Intelligence and Imagery: A Personal Journey by @Chac1. You can read the full essay at The SolAARium.

I realize this story is complex and can be hard to follow, so I've got a little bit of good news for you: This chapter contains the final identification of a member of Team Malum. As of this point, all members of that side have now been identified.

This means the roster of "Fictional characters who appeared in the real world" is nearly complete. There is only one unidentified character left, and then we will have our full cast for the rest of the story!

Team Marisol​	Team Malum
Sebakhira Faith in Chaos​	Akira Robinson The Stormbreakers
Varian/Victoria Robinson The Last Heroes​	Kiri Ranginui A Coldwar Affair
Mina Soban-Re A Coldwar Affair​	Whetu Kealoha The Legend of Whetu Kealoha
Cali D'Kara Year of Hell​	Dak J'Bassim Year of Hell
Trig Shepminter Song of the Solitaire​	Moka J'Bassim Year of Hell
Aisling Last Days of the Emerald Isle​	Tenna Annora Song of the Solitaire
Kanti Divakar The Stormbreakers​	Cassandra Espinosa A Coldwar Affair
<Unmet Character> <Unknown story>​	Kailani Kalili The Stormbreakers
​	Uisce 2023 Guess the Author Entry

<=== Episode 7: She’s not an object; don’t talk about her like that.

Episode 9: You’re the god of my world. There’s a lot I want to say to you. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Eight: We’re just having a little war out here. How are you?

---

Akira Robinson
Creation
The SolAARium, Paradox Interactive Forums


Akira Robinson and Whetu Kealoha kept to the shadows as they moved through the SolAARium. It was very unlike the bAAR in Detroit. This place was structured more like an academic center, complete with classrooms and an auditorium.

The place was very crowded, and each woman was using her own Psionic technique to remain hidden. Akira was using Psionic Manipulation, making herself appear different to anyone who looked at her. Whetu continued using Psionic Stealth to make herself undetectable. (to the naked eye)

Whetu and Akira followed a small crowd of people into an auditorium, slipping inside just before the doors closed. An American man was standing on the stage, flanked by several pieces of artwork displayed on tripod easels. While the two Creations infiltrated the crowd, the American commenced his lecture.

“…As someone who manages an AAR inspired by graphic novels, it is essential for me to approach the use of AI in an ethical way. I don’t have a budget to pay artists, as some have done, even if it is a relatively small amount, or to pay for software licenses. But this is not about software. It’s about solutions for creating images.”

Akira took up a spot by the door. She was going to be Whetu’s escape route. The young Partogan slipped down to the front of the auditorium, unseen, and then began working her way back to the rear. As she moved, Whetu closely examined each of the people attending the lecture. Whetu telepathically probed everyone in the front of the auditorium, while Akira probed everyone in the back.

After about fifteen minutes, Whetu regrouped with Akira and both women quietly departed. Back out in the hallway, Whetu shook her head.

“No sign of HistoryDude or FamilyTreeEnthusiast.” She said. “They’re not here.”

“I didn’t see them either.” Akira reported. “We’ll just have to skip that part of the plan if we can’t find them quickly.”

“But those two have analyzed Blake’s work more closely than anyone else.” Whetu protested. “Who else would have… oh, what did you call it… ‘world-building level knowledge’ about Blake’s stories? We cannot replace him with any random writer.”

“We’ll have to go with Chosenpai… Marisol.” Akira admitted. “We can’t afford to waste time on a wild goose chase.”

“I know Malum would prefer one of those two… would he take Marisol instead of HistoryDude?” Whetu said.

“I could try to convince him.” Akira replied. “It would be easier if Tenna agrees to help. Let me call her.”

Akira and Whetu moved to a dark corner of the SolAARium and hid behind a statue of Lord Durham. Akira produced a cell phone and dialed the contact labelled “Tenna Annora.”

At once, a noisy racket came out of the speaker, followed by heavy breathing.

“What the hell is going on over there?” Akira hissed into the phone.

“Oh, nothing.” Tenna replied in a high-pitched voice. “We’re just having a little war out here. How are you?”



…

---

Marisol
Creator
Wayne County, Michigan


Marisol, Blake, and J.D. were pushed aside as Cali and her SWAT team dismounted from the armored van.

“Stay here and keep your heads down!” Cali ordered.

“Like hell!” Blake said as soon as she was gone.

Marisol could hear the sounds of laser and plasma weapons fire, along with an unfamiliar rushing sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She jumped out of the van.

“You coming?” She asked Blake.

The two writers scrambled away from the Paradox convoy, following the sounds of screaming and gunfire through the dense urban environment. Rounding a corner, they found the GM Renaissance center, illuminated by the orange glow of fire.

Marisol felt Blake’s hand on her shoulder before she was violently tossed through the door of a nearby restaurant.

“GET DOWN!” Was all Blake had time to yell before the chatter of gunfire filled the air.

Patrons screamed as the windows were shattered. Laser bolts sailed over people’s heads and smashed dozens of liquor bottles behind the counter. The noise and heat and chaos of the scene overwhelmed Marisol… and her mental state changed.

Suddenly… she was standing with one foot in the present and one foot in the past…

Marisol could see the chaos unfolding around her, but she could only hear a dark moment from her childhood.

It happened on January 25th, 2011. Marisol was eleven years old. Just fifty yards down the street from where Marisol was playing, terrorists set off a bomb, blasting a city bus into bits.

Marisol could clearly remember the sound of metal debris falling from the sky. The sound of car alarms. The sound of people screaming and running away. The sound of her younger sister starting to cry. The sound was the only part of that day she could remember: Little Mariposa asking her big sister what to do.

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do, but we can’t stay here.”

Marisol’s words from the past propelled her into motion in the present. She was in deep, way over her head… but Marisol knew that staying idle, waiting for something to happen, was the wrong answer.

Marisol pulled herself back into the moment and ran out of the damaged restaurant. She followed the sounds of angry yelling around a corner and found an incredible scene.

Some kind of standoff was happening on Jefferson Avenue, between the Renaissance Center and the Tunnel to Canada. Four of Blake’s characters were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, aiming their weapons at the Paradox SWAT team, who was quickly moving to surround them.

“Get the Anti-Psionic Stun Bombs ready!” one of the men shouted.

Sebakhira was stalking the perimeter, teeth bared and a Psionic aura enveloping her. Trig stood in front of Blake, shielding the author with both his body and a Telekinetic field. Kanti was perched atop a SWAT vehicle, watching the proceedings. Aisling (in her wolf form) watched as a pair of SWAT operators handcuffed Kailani. Varian had grabbed a fallen pistol and was keeping ahold of Mina, who was shouting loudly at one of the enemies.

Kiri Ranginui, Dak J’Bassim, and Moka J’Bassim were all looking as though they were taken by surprise. They called out from behind the safety of Tenna’s Telekinetic shield.

“Mina! Are you hurt? What did they do to you?” Kiri yelled.

“Cali!? Why are you helping them?” Moka asked.

“Why are you fighting us!?” Cali retorted; her voice filled with equal parts shock and confusion.

Marisol felt her heart plunge into her stomach. Cali, Moka, and Dak were all protagonists from the same story. Dak was Cali’s love interest, and Moka was Dak’s younger sister.

“We came here to rescue you!” Dak replied, pointing at Cali. “We heard you were being held hostage by the author!”

“We wanted to bring all of our allies, but the Gate’s not ready yet.” Moka added.

“I’m not the one who needs rescuing.” Cali said. “It’s Blake we need to protect right now.”

Cali gestured at Blake. Trig side-stepped to hide him from view again. Across the street, Tenna spotted Trig and her expression darkened. Just like Cali, Moka, and Dak, these two knew each other.

“Really, Trig?” Tenna cried out. “After everything we’ve been through together you’re going to defend him?”

“I know what Malum’s gonna do after he kills Blake, and I want no part of that!” Trig responded.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marisol saw Cali’s eyes go wide. Cali barked an order to her men.

“Get that kid someplace safe!” Cali said, pointing at Trig. “We can’t risk anything happening to him.”

Kiri, Moka, and Dak raised their weapons and opened fire, taking aim at Trig himself. Trig used Psionics to deflect the incoming blasts before retaliating with Soulfire. Amidst the cyclone of blue fire, two of the SWAT operators hurled a pair of modified flashbangs into the fray.

Marisol was briefly dazed by two cracks of thunder, but her vision and hearing returned after a moment. However, all of the Gifted characters were down for the count. Kanti, Trig, Aisling, Sebakhira, and Tenna were all writhing in agony, clutching at their eyes. The Soulfire tornado faded away, and a moment later, Moka J’Bassim made her move.

With Trig incapacitated, Blake was suddenly exposed, twenty feet of open road between himself and Moka. With nowhere to hide, Blake let out a yell and started running towards Moka. She raised her Plasma Pistol, got one finger on the trigger…

And then Marisol tackled her.

Both women collapsed to the ground, with Blake reaching them a moment later. Marisol, Blake, and Moka wrestled violently on the pavement, six hands grabbing and grasping for the weapon. Desperate, almost panicking, Marisol fumbled around, found Moka’s face, and jammed one of her fingers into Moka’s eye. Moka screamed and flailed, finally letting go of her weapon and curling up defensively. Blake seized Moka’s weapon and then helped Marisol pin her down, his knee pressing into Moka’s shoulders.

“Look out!” a voice yelled.

Looking up, Marisol realized a battle was playing out around her. Both sides had been deprived of Psionics, so now Cali’s SWAT team was pushing in to detain Tenna, Kiri, Dak, and Moka. While Moka’s three allies were resisting as best they could, something else was happening… something alarming.

As if possessed by a demon, the Detroit River was rearing up as though it was a predatory cat about to pounce. A police helicopter banked sharply and moved to the Canadian side to avoid being hit by the rising cascade. Untold millions of gallons of water rose into the air, suspended by some invisible force.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS HAPPENING!?” A bystander screamed.

Then, with a great roar, the Detroit River lurched forward and fell onto the city. The deluge quickly submerged Jefferson Street and the surrounding area. Marisol grabbed Blake, trying to hold on, but she was pulled away by the rushing torrent. She lost all of her bearings until she crashed into something rock-solid. Moments later, the inland tsunami subsided. Most of the water flowed back into the riverbed while the rest drained into the Tunnel to Canada. The river retreated into its place, leaving behind a flooded and stunned city.

Coughing, spluttering, and blinking her eyes, Marisol tried to figure out what just happened. She had crashed into the side of a building; and now she was pinned between the marble wall and a fallen tree.

Spraying water as it went, an open-top convertible drove onto the scene. A red-haired woman dressed up in a stereotypical witch’s costume (complete with pointed hat) brought the car to a stop and yelled in an Irish accent:

“Ranginui! Grab Annora and the others! Let’s go!”

Kiri Ranginui staggered to his feet. Moka, Dak, and Tenna had all been swept clear of the SWAT team by the deluge, and ran toward the convertible from all directions. Dak had to hold Tenna’s hand. She was still blind.

Cali clambered to her feet and yelled:

“They’re escaping! Shoot the tires! Shoot the engine!”

A few of the SWAT operators grabbed for their weapons, but the witch lifted her arm, holding a metal rod above her head. A heavy rainstorm seemed to materialize out of nowhere, disorienting the troopers just long enough for the convertible, now fully loaded with enemies, to make its escape. Kiri, Moka, Dak, Tenna, and their unnamed rescuer vanished from view as the convertible sped off into the rainstorm.

Marisol extricated herself from the fallen tree and started making her way back over to the spot where everything had gone haywire. As soon as Marisol spotted Blake, she yelled at him:

“Alright… I am so fucking lost. What the fuck was all that!?”

Dripping from head to toe, Blake looked at the Plasma Pistol he took from Moka and then angrily threw it on the ground.

“That was the Water Witch.” Blake said. “Uisce. She’s from a short story I wrote for an online contest.”

Blake kicked the pistol into a puddle, and then angrily yelled at the sky:

“REALLY MALUM!? You’re just gonna take people from fucking short stories now? Are you running out of ideas or something?”

Then Blake staggered and sat down on a bench.

“This is too much.” Blake said. “I need a break.”

Marisol sat down next to him.

“Me too.” She sighed.

At that moment, both Marisol and Blake felt a buzzing sensation in their pockets. Their cell phones were ringing. Simultaneously, and sharing an eye roll, they checked to see who was calling.

Blake’s caller ID said: SFC Spaniola

Marisol’s caller ID said: Asiana Dispatch

“Work.” They both grumbled.

<=== Episode 6: She’s not an object; don’t talk about her like that.

Episode 9: You’re the god of my world. There’s a lot I want to say to you. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Housekeeping notes: It has come to my attention that using multiple accounts, even if just for narrative purposes, runs counter to the PDX Forum rules. For obvious reasons, I will sunset the “Cali D’Kara” account after this chapter is posted. Fortunately, Cali has been fully re-integrated into the story at this point, eliminating the need for the aforementioned account moving forward. (I've already planned out how her role in this story will end, and yes: The account has been made redundant and can be safely done away with)

For the readers, here is an extra chapter to apologize for the trouble and using minor spoilers to explain the above housekeeping note.

<=== Episode 8: We’re just having a little war out here. How are you?

Episode 10: This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Nine: You’re the god of my world. There’s a lot I want to say to you.

---

Marisol
Creator
Wayne County, Michigan


Marisol took a moment to squeeze some water out of her hair and clean her glasses, then answered the phone.

“Reyes speaking.”

A man’s voice replied. He was speaking in Tagalog, a non-standardized version of the Filipino language frequently used in Metro Manila. Marisol, who normally spoke Filipino, strained her ears to keep up.

“Where are you?” The voice said. “Your manager and crew are all out trying to find you. There’s some kind of crisis going on near your location and the airline is making arrangements to get everyone back to Manila as fast as possible.”

“I’m in Detroit.” Marisol said.

She heard the airline employee gasp.

“Uh… stay where you are. We’ll see if we can get someone down there to pick you up.” The man replied. “Where are you? Are you in a shelter? We all saw that mess on the news.”

“Hold on.” Marisol replied. “I’ll get an address.”

Then Marisol ran through the waterlogged streets to grab Cali’s shoulder. Cali was trying to direct her team amidst the chaos of the last few minutes, but most of the men and women were too dazed to do more than look around.

“Is there someplace we can go?” Marisol asked. “Off the street?”

Cali conferred with her teammates, then gave orders:

“Everyone on your feet! We’re… we’re gonna crash with some friends.”

…

Marisol, Sebakhira, Kanti, Varian, Mina, Trig, Aisling, Blake, and J.D. all staggered to their feet and began following Cali and her SWAT team through the street, moving away from the Detroit River and deeper into the city. Blake was still on the phone with his own boss.

“Yes, Sergeant. I know… about ninety minutes, depending on traffic. I’ll, uh… I need the full twenty-four hours’ notice, Sergeant. I’ll be there.”

Blake hung up.

“Lansing is losing their damn mind.” Blake said. “The Governor might declare a state of disaster for Detroit, and the State Police are looking into all of our shenanigans in Shiatown and Owosso. They’re saying I have to report to the armory in the next twenty-four hours, and there’s a State Trooper there waiting to interview me.”

Cali came to a stop in front of a three-story brick building. The words Whiskey in the jAAR were visible on the façade.

“Well, you’re still under my protective custody for now.” Cali told Blake. “Everyone else… is everyone okay? Anyone hurt?”

“I almost drowned!” Mina shouted from the back. “I’m still handcuffed back here! How was I supposed to survive whatever the hell that was!?”

“Stop whining.” Blake retorted. “I grabbed you and pulled you out of the water, didn’t I? Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“You’re the god of my world.” Mina spat. “There’s a lot I want to say to you.”

Cali rolled her eyes and approached a security gate in front of the building. She wrapped her knuckles on it, then stood back. A moment later, the door opened from the inside. A bearded man peered out, looked at the soggy group and said:

“We’re closed due to water damage. Come back when the repair work is done.”

Cali reached into one of her vest pockets and produced an ID card. Next to her face and name was the image of a platypus fossil, the official logo of Paradox Interactive. The bearded man raised an eyebrow, then did a double-take, looking hard at Cali’s pointed ears.

“Oh, snap. You’re that elf girl I heard LD talking about. Actually… I’m glad you brought a Go-Team. Our silent alarm has been going off for hours and one of the employees isn’t answering her phone. Rest of the staff is getting worried.”

“I’m here on Paradox business, and everyone you see here is with me.” Cali replied. “We need to take some time to regroup. Does Paradox still own the apartments on the second floor?”

“Yeah.”

“Any of them vacant?”

“Room 214 is open. So is 228 and 229.”

Cali rounded on the large group of SWAT specialists, Creators, and Creations.

“Males in 214. Females in 229. I want C2 set up in 228. Get our stuff off any trucks that weren’t washed into the fucking river.”

Blake jabbed his thumb at the bAAR.

“I gotta talk to some folks.” He said.

“Not without an armed escort, you’re not.” Cali shot back.

“And Marisol’s coming with me.” Blake added.

“Fine, then I’m coming too.” Cali conceded.

Behind her, Marisol could have sworn she heard Varian let out a girlish giggle. She (or he) found this exchange amusing.

“I’ve seen people in my world have conversations just like that.” Varian said to Trig. “Or… dialogue, I guess I should say. Didn’t realize all of Blake’s characters were just talking with his voice.”

“My voice doesn’t sound like the author.” Kanti ruffled her feathers in an indignant way.

“Now that I think about it… it seems like all of us female characters speak in Blake’s voice, but in a higher pitch.” Sebakhira mused. “Fascinating.”

“Martyrs of Kharak! That makes me wanna kill him more.” Mina cursed.

Marisol and Blake did their best to ignore these comments while they were escorted into the bAAR by Cali. The rest of the Creations were bundled toward a second door that led to the upstairs apartments. Just before Marisol stepped through the heavy oaken door and into the bAAR, a small housecat brushed against her leg. Looking down, Marisol realized this fluffy white cat had red eyes that unmistakably belonged to someone she knew.

Marisol knelt down, scooped up Aisling, and carried her into the bAAR.

…

Inside, a mixture of patrons and staff were attempting to clean up the mess left behind by the deluge. The raging torrent had swept through the bAAR, saturating the place in ankle-deep water during the late-night rush. Blake started looking around the place as though he were a detective searching for clues, and he gestured for Marisol to follow. Meanwhile, the bearded man tried to talk to Cali.

“So, like I was saying… about three or four hours before all this flooding happened, someone set off the silent alarms. Unauthorized access to both the Inkwell and SolAARium.”

“Okay, and what did you say about a missing employee?”

Meanwhile, Blake and Marisol went behind the counter. He asked a few of the staff if they could tell him where “Erin Bowie” was… but no one knew the answer. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. No answer, the call went directly to voicemail.

Blake turned to Marisol.

“Have you ever worked an hourly job?” Blake asked.

“Sure, when I was younger I had a gig at the hotel where Mariposa works now.” Marisol said. “You need me to check the timecards? Who are we looking for?”

“You’re quick. That’s awesome.” Blake said with a smile.

He reached up to punch clock and took down a large envelope of time cards from the wall next to it. He split the stack in half and gave one half to Marisol. (Aisling curled up around Marisol’s neck and shoulders like a fluffy scarf)

“We’re looking for a girl named ‘Erin Bowie.’ She’s not supposed to be here.” Blake explained. “When things popped off, I told her to hide, but it looks like she might have come back here at some point.”

At that moment, Cali slammed her fist on the bar top, causing Marisol and Blake to jump.

“ANOTHER ONE!? HOW MANY CREATIONS DID YOU BRING INTO THE REAL WORLD!?” Cali screamed at Blake. “What book is Erin from and when the hell did you bring her here!?”

Blake raised his hands.

“In my defense, Erin was the first one ever to cross over… and she was never meant to be more than an Easter Egg. Things have kinda spiraled out of control since then.”

One of the SWAT operators tapped Cali’s shoulder and pointed to a nearby patron: an American man who was mourning the watery destruction of his lecture notes and complaining about how he was going to be late for an appointment in the SolAARium.

“That guy has seen her. Just a few days ago, actually.” The operator said.

Blake glanced in the direction the man was pointing and then called out:

“Chac! You saw Erin? Where? When?”

Just before Blake started to walk away, he leaned in close to Marisol and whispered:

“Inkwell. Check to see if anyone’s messed with my stuff. Yours as well.”

Marisol knew what the Inkwell was, but had never gone there. She knew Blake was mistaken in his belief that she had an entry here, but there was no time to correct him. Instead, Blake went off to speak to the patron known as Chac and Marisol moved across the bAAR to the Inkwell, where an old man was muttering angrily to himself about having to repair and reorganize the Inkwell.

Sloshing through half an inch of standing water, Marisol allowed Aisling to jump onto one of the bookshelves. The cat peered around in all directions, its eyes wide.

“I bet you’ve never seen so many books before, huh?” Marisol said to Aisling. “It’s okay… I know what we’re looking for.”

Marisol ran her fingers along the shelves. She had been a fan of Blake’s for about a year before becoming his Beta Reader. She had not memorized the titles of all his works, but she knew most of them and quickly spotted Blake’s entry in the Inkwell. She tapped each of Blake’s previous books, reading their names aloud:

“After Everything, Faith in Chaos, DosiAARs, My Sistership, Childhood Memory, The Stormbreakers, Legend of Whetu Kealoha, Crossroads of Past and Future… uh… what?”

Marisol paused. Something was not right.

She counted the books. Then counted them again. She tried to recite the names of Blake’s books from memory, then looked again.

A moment later, Marisol was running back toward Blake, panting from the rising fear in her throat.

“Blake!” She gasped.

Blake turned away from Chac, who saw the look of alarm on Marisol’s face and instinctively took a step back.

“Two of your books are gone from the Inkwell!” Marisol said. “My Father’s War and Finding Love Under the Winter Star!”



…
Akira Robinson

Creation

The SolAARium, Paradox Interactive Forums



Whetu and Akira paced in the shadows, listening to Akira’s cell phone as Tenna delivered her report.

“I can’t explain how, but whatever Psionic technique Malum used to… awaken us to the truth… it just didn’t work on Kailani. Probably because she was already insane.”

“What about Varian and Mina?” Akira replied in a soft voice. “Have they really turned?”

“Mina? Definitely not. She’s probably being held prisoner.” Tenna replied. “Varian though? Come on… you were there when he or she or whatever they are got pulled out of the Gate. Varian’s got a strong natural resistance to Psionics.”

“Willpower.” Akira corrected her. “We call it willpower in my world.”

“Whatever.” Tenna replied. “Look, Varian’s definitely trying to shake it off. Not sure if they managed to do it, but they’re trying. Tell Malum the next Creation he pulls better be a pushover, cause this one was hell.”

Akira said:

“Fine then. I’ve got someone in mind anyway… someone who might incense the rest of Blake’s little group and turn them against him. Maybe even provoke one of them into doing the job for us…”

Akira shut off her radio and turned to Whetu.

“We’re going. Quiet exit out the front, then we’ll go back to the Gate from Stockholm.”

Using their Psionic abilities to slip past a few people in the hallowed halls of the SolAARium, Akira and Whetu began moving toward the front entrance. All of their research and planning and preparation told them that Paradox Headquarters was on the other side of the street from the SolAARium. All they had to do was step through the front doors and the two women would be on the streets of Stockholm.

Just when Akira and Whetu were fifteen feet away from the tall set of double-doors, a shrill robotic voice declared for all to hear:

“Naked girl.”

A sudden, painful silence fell over the SolAARium. Akira and Whetu froze in place, then slowly turned their heads to look around.

The LEGO robot Asimov was rolling through the hall on its little plastic wheels, turning its head to keep one of its sensors aimed directly at Whetu.

“That robot can see you.” Akira hissed.

Out of shock and surprise, both Whetu and Akira broke focus for just a moment, and that was all it took.

Akira’s Psionic disguise fell away.

Whetu became visible to everyone else.

Up and down the hallway, almost fifty men and women paused in their activities to stare. Akira could sense dozens of people staring at Whetu upon realizing she was not fully covered up. Mentally, Akira added this terrible character design to the list of reasons she wanted to kill the author.

A member of Paradox staff was the first to recover from the shock. He raised one shaking hand, pointed at Whetu and shouted:

“Nudity outside of the CK3 AAR forum! Are we blind!? DEPLOY THE MODERATORS!”

“RUN!” Akira screamed. “I’ll get the Return Beacon!”

She and Whetu took off at a dead sprint, making for the double doors. Whetu put one hand out and sent a pulse of Telekinetic energy ahead of her. The double doors crashed open. Whetu and Akira were hit by a blast of cold air, and then they were out.

…

A low cloud ceiling obscured the nearby skyscrapers while the CN Tower lit up with brilliant purple and blue colors. A chill wind swept across the city, bringing the smell of Lake Ontario with it.

Akira was the first one to figure out what was wrong.

“This is not Stockholm!” Akira cursed. “FUCK! This isn’t Stockholm!”

“They’re coming!” Whetu yelled.

Several men were emerging from the SolAARium doors. Whetu put both of her hands to her head and then projected a telepathic attack toward one of them. Instantly, the poor soul began to have a panic attack as his mind was filled with the most nightmarish and traumatizing of images. He fell to his knees, convulsing and hyperventilating. This was enough to distract the others. As they stopped to offer help, Whetu turned to her companion.

Akira had opened her coat and withdrawn a small technological device, shaped like the handle, magazine well, and stock of a rifle. Whetu grabbed onto Akira.

“And you’re sure this wouldn’t have worked inside that building?”

“Very sure.” Akira replied. “But out here? We should be just fine.”

Akira pulled the trigger on the Return Beacon.

In the book Akira comes from, the Return Beacon should have behaved a highly specific way… but things were different now.

A swirling Vortex Portal opened up in front of Akira and Whetu, looking very similar to a Wormhole from Stellaris. It lurched backwards and swallowed both women completely.

Once Akira and Whetu were gone, the Vortex Portal shrank and dissipated away to nothing.

<=== Episode 8: We’re just having a little war out here. How are you?

Episode 10: This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Announcement! As requested by a small number of readers/viewers, the first video version of The Broken Gates is now live. Video counterparts will be slowly added to previous chapters. Posting of new chapters will noticeably slow down while the video side of things plays catchup.

<=== Episode 9: You’re the god of my world. There’s a lot I want to say to you.

Episode 11: This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for.===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Ten: This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.

---

Akira Robinson
Creation
Wayne County, Michigan


Meanwhile, something was happening in Belle Isle Park, an island in the Detroit River mere feet away from the US/Canada border. While city officials combed the conservatory and aquarium for survivors of the recent flood, a Vortex Portal opened up and deposited two women in front of the Dossin Great Lakes Museum.

Akira Robinson turned around to watch as her companion regained her footing. This new person was a young woman slightly taller than Akira. She had messy blue hair and wore an ankle-length red dress. As she stepped out of the Vortex Portal, the woman peered around the island, her face full of wonder and awe.

This was Emily, and she had just been pulled out of a very obscure story by Macavity116. She spotted the Detroit city skyline, fully illuminated in the darkness of night, and stood transfixed.

“Incredible.” Emily breathed. “I’ve lived my whole life in Pelican Town, but I’ve dreamed about seeing a big city like this.”

Emily stepped clear of the Vortex Portal, but it did not close. Someone on the other side was holding it open.

“It’s just as I said.” Akira replied. “This is the world of the gods, and home of the god who created you and your world.”

“And I can just go see him?” Emily asked. “It’s really okay?”

“I insist.” Akira replied. “In fact, I encourage you to see him. Look there, across the river. Do you see that building the firefighters are next to? The one with the word “scientology” painted on the sign. Walk to that building and turn right at the intersection. Stay on the right side of the road and go past the big square with the fountains and statues. On the other side of the park, you’ll see a brick building called Whiskey in the jAAR. Knock on the door and ask for Blake.”

Emily froze. The color went out of her face.

“Wait a minute…” Emily said, her breathing shallow and rapid. “Blake… as in… Blake Robinson? The Blake I know?”

“Yes.” Akira replied, a smile creeping across her face. “That Blake. One and the same.”

Emily looked back to her destination. She whispered, more to herself than to Akira:

“This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.”

“It’s what you’ve dreamed about… isn’t it?” Akira said. “Don’t waste this opportunity I’ve given you. Go. Find him. Find the man who is your lover and creator all in one.”

Akira stepped backwards through the Vortex Portal and it closed, leaving Emily shivering and alone on Belle Isle.

…

Meanwhile, the consequences for Akira’s unilateral action came quickly. As soon as she rematerialized inside the ring section of the Broken Gate, two angry voices confronted her.

“I told Malum what you did. He’s pissed.”

“You can’t go off and do things on your own like that! You’re throwing off everything Malum planned!”

These two people were also characters taken from Blake’s stories. Whetu Kealoha was still looking shaken from her experience in the SolAARium, but next to her, another woman looked full of resolve.

Whetu’s companion was Cassandra Espinosa, a twenty-one-year-old woman taken from A Coldwar Affair. Cassandra had vivid green eyes that seemed to give off a faint glow, making her stand out in any surrounding. Like Whetu, she wore an outfit that left little to the imagination, but in a far different way from grass skirts:

Cassandra’s whole body, except for her head and neck, was covered in what appeared to be a skintight bodysuit. One needed to look closer to realize Cassandra was actually wearing Nanite Armor, a protective layer composed of several trillion microscopic nanomachines acting in concert, all under the control of a cybernetic implant in Cassandra’s brain.

When she confronted Akira, Cassandra folded her arms and her Nanite Armor rippled dangerously.

“Malum said we can’t send more Creations into the real world without going through him first.” Cassandra said. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Mom.”

In any other circumstance, a 21-year-old calling a 19-year-old “Mom” would be met with some measure of skepticism, or perhaps alarm. But Akira and Cassandra had already been warned about this detail when they first joined Malum’s team:

An older version of Akira (who was not pulled into this series of events) had mothered three children, of which Cassandra was the middle child. This detail was supposed to be a surprising plot twist in a story called The Last Heroes, but right now… it was a minor detail that both Akira and Cassandra found inconvenient.

“Well, it’s already done.” Akira said. “And I’m positive Emily will cause Blake’s new ‘team’ to break up and start fighting each other. It’s all to our benefit in the end.”

Whetu pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

“You’re missing the point.” Whetu said. “You’re not the protagonist anymore, Malum is. He makes the decisions. If you really love him, you wouldn’t go over his head like this!”

Akira bristled. Cassandra noticed.

“Ugh… not again. How many times do we have to do this, mom? Follow me.”

Cassandra led Akira away from the Broken Gate. The ring-shaped structure was located in the bottommost section of a derelict starship, left abandoned for hundreds of years. Archeologists and treasure hunters had recently excavated the upper decks, but no one had gotten this far underground yet. No one aside from Malum’s team, anyway.

Cassandra brought Akira to a doorway near the bow and wrapped her knuckles on the door.

“Enter.” A booming voice commanded.

“Here we go. Third time’s the charm, right?” Cassandra said. Then she pushed the door open.

The ship’s galley had been converted into something resembling a Medieval European Royal Court. Two thrones, one large and one slightly smaller, stood on an elevated platform at the far end of the room. Various relics and trinkets were put on display throughout the room, while two long tables were set with dishes and silverware, as though a feast would be served soon. The smell of freshly-cooked meat and vegetables wafted through a door to Akira’s right.

The Court was busy. Dozens of aliens milled about, talking and arguing and debating. Akira and Cassandra bypassed them all, walking directly toward the thrones instead.

Malum Ralpakin was seated in his throne, while the smaller one was vacant. The villain also known as the Great Khan was a giant of a man with blue skin, pointed ears, and bright yellow eyes. The left side of his body was covered in gruesome-looking scars, a reminder of the battle Malum fought against his own son during the final chapter of Song of the Solitaire, the story from which he originated.

Malum did not see Akira and Cassandra approach. He was locked in deep conversation with one of his concubines. The alien woman looked as though she was enraptured by Malum’s every word. Akira took the opportunity to study the alien woman’s face, trying to identify her species.

Assurian. Akira said to herself. Does that mean he finally got access to my world? Or is he still sending lackeys through the Gate?

Malum Ralpakin told the concubine to go away, and she scampered out of sight. Then he turned to look at Akira.

“Again you’ve closed off your mind to me, Akira.” Malum said. “What a selfish lover you are.”

His tone was light, as though teasing her, but Akira could sense a deep rumbling anger within him. Both villains were emitting powerful fields of Psionic energy that buffeted one another in silent conflict.

“It’s a force of habit.” Akira said. “After the Instrument of Desire, I find it hard to open my heart to anyone… let alone my mind.”

Akira was referencing a particularly infamous moment in her backstory, where the hated author had strongly implied she got intimate with a Lovecraftian nightmare monster.

Malum narrowed his eyes.

“That won’t do at all, my dear.” He said. “I’ve known you now many weeks. I see that you become stronger, more focused, and wiser when you are open about your love for me. When you close yourself off, you become so frustratingly independent that you drag down those around you and impede the progress of my plans. Allow me to restore what you’ve somehow managed to lose…”

Akira could feel it coming. A wave of telepathic energy seeping into every crevice of her mind. Just before she was overwhelmed, Akira felt a last second pulse of joy.

I was right. Akira told herself. Willpower from my world and Psionic Resistance from his world are not the same thing. I can fight this off again. I can take control.

Filled with newfound resolve, Akira quickly purged her own mind of rebellious thoughts, making certain her head was empty before Malum regained control.

…

“Now, Akira, my dear.” Malum said. “Don’t you see how angry I get when you go behind my back?”

Akira bowed her head.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir.” Akira replied in a demure tone of voice. “I thought I could do things my way and get a better result. I was wrong. I’m so deeply sorry.”

Akira was feeling very hot. She fidgeted uncomfortably, still looking at the floor. She also felt terrible. How could she earn Malum’s love if she kept striking out on her own like this? She wanted to hit herself for being so stupid.

A tiny voice spoke in the back of Akira’s head, but she ignored it.

“Cassandra, my dear.” Malum said, speaking over the top of Akira’s head. “That Emily character is a wildcard I will not tolerate. Go get her and put her back in her world now. If she resists, kill her.”

Cassandra nodded.

“As you wish.”

Cassandra turned to leave, taking her eyes off Malum with the most extreme reluctance. The Great Khan stood up from his throne and directed his voice toward one of the courtiers.

“Carry on without me for a few minutes. I must take this one to give her forgiveness.”

Akira felt an eruption of happiness deep in her soul as Malum grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her in the direction of the harem chamber.

“Give me those two books in your coat pocket.” Malum suddenly ordered.

Without hesitation, Akira opened her coat and retrieved the two books she had stolen from the Inkwell: My Father’s War and Finding Love Under the Winter Star.

“The only books in which our author made himself the main protagonist… hmm… how curious.” Malum said as he examined each book. Then he put one hand on Akira’s shoulder and pushed him forward.

Just before they left the Khan’s Court, one of the other concubines looked at Akira and flashed a friendly hand signal.

As she was pushed out of the room, Akira did a double-take.

The concubine who waved at her was Kotori Sato… a character from My Father’s War. Kotori was having a conversation with Thomas Hutch, another character from the same story… one who was best known for being the puppet ruler of a collaborationist government.

…

---

Marisol
Creator
Wayne County, Michigan


Marisol was pacing the length of Apartment 229, agitated. She had told Cali’s team several times that she could not stay. She needed to get home, and that Asiana had sent someone to collect her. But this had only resulted in Marisol being confined to the same space as the female Creations.

Kanti Divakar, the albino peahen, was similarly disturbed. She too was pacing, stalking up and down the headrest of a couch in the living room. Mina had to lean forward to avoid being hit by Kanti’s tail feathers. Sebakhira watched Marisol for a few moments, then asked:

“Why do you worry so much about going home quickly? Your family strikes me as being very resilient in the face of hardship.”

“Holy shit, Blake was right about the mind-reading.” Marisol breathed. “That’s really off-putting, you know.”

“Apologies.” Sebakhira growled. “Your mother and siblings exist in the forefront of your mind. You worry about them.”

“I bring home the most money.” Marisol said. “I can’t afford to not work, and getting left behind can end my career really fast.”

“She’s not like us.” Mina said from the couch. “For us, all of our duties and obligations and responsibilities get put on hold when the author decides to send us on a vacation. All of life gets told to wait its turn.”

“I uh… never thought of it that way.” Marisol confessed.

“I never had a monthly cycle for the whole run of my story.” Mina went on. “Hit me like a truck when it happened after Malum pulled me through the Gate.”

“So, did Malum pull all of you through the Broken Gate before sending you here?” Marisol asked.

She remembered helping Blake finalize the concept of The Broken Gates when he was writing his latest story. They were supposed to be a system for interdimensional travel… but this was now the third or fourth time Marisol had noticed a Creation making reference to them, suggesting Malum had found a way to hijack the Broken Gates.

Kanti nodded.

“Malum… huge blue-skinned Humanoid… pulled Akira Robinson out of her story first, and then she took over the duties of pulling everyone else. She’s somewhat rebellious, though. As you can see by just looking around, her efforts to recruit people to Malum’s cause don’t always work out. I don’t know why… but Malum either can’t or won’t go through the Gate himself.”

“He used Psionics to bewitch us.” Sebakhira added. “I do not know how to describe it… it is not a technique from my world… but we all started to feel a powerful love for Malum. Different types for different people. Some of us loved him as a father or brother. Some of us felt a more platonic love. I know a few experienced romantic love for Malum… and I think there’s a couple who are in unconditional love, as though he were an object of worship.”

“And you don’t feel any of that?” Mina spat from the couch. “That’s what’s wrong with you.”

Sebakhira peered around the room.

“I have noticed that some of us were able to shake off the Psionic effects… though I do not know how or why just yet.

Kanti looked very annoyed, and Marisol understood why.

“Hey Kanti… in your book – uh… I mean, in your world… didn’t you have a Psionic power that has to do with love?”

“I do.” Kanti replied, ruffling her feathers. “I’m oversimplifying to make things easy for your untrained mind… but I can telepathically force someone to fall in love with me. From what I witnessed, Malum’s ability is far more developed and nuanced than mine. It’s embarrassing.”

Marisol shuddered. Both Sebakhira and Kanti recoiled. They were able to see a series of dark thoughts passing through Marisol’s mind.

“Sorry.” Marisol said. “Just some stuff from my past. Forced love… or love for price… that’s not love at all. At least it’s that way it is for me.”

There was a scratching sound at the apartment door. Kanti fluttered across the room and opened it with Telekinesis.

A fluffy white cat with red eyes entered the room and sat down in the kitchen. It took a moment to lick its paws and wipe its face, then shapeshifted into a human girl.

“Cali’s going to come up and get us in a few minutes.” Aisling said. “A bunch of people just showed up in the tavern downstairs. She says they’re her ‘Committee’ or something like that.”

<=== Episode Nine: You’re the god of my world. There’s a lot I want to say to you.

Episode Eleven: This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for.===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Well dear readers, my copy of Homeworld 3 has arrived, and Gearbox says I'll be allowed to access the game 3 days early because I backed the game during the crowdfunding stage. Needless to say, I am very liable to vanish into a puff of smoke this weekend and not be seen again until late next week. In the event I do fall through a Hyperspace Gate and disappear, I just wanted to say: Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next week with a new chapter of The Broken Gates!

<=== Episode Ten: This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.

Episode 12: It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart! ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Eleven: This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for.

---

Aisling
Creation
The bAAR, Paradox Interactive Forums


Aisling cautiously followed her compatriots downstairs and into the bAAR. The place was a hubbub of activity. To her surprise, nearly all of the flood damage had been repaired and the staff was preparing to re-open the bAAR for regular business.

A set of four long dining tables had been pushed together in the center of the dining area, and six men and women were already seated there.

As she was guided to her own chair by Cali, Aisling took a moment to look over the “committee” Cali had mentioned. It was a diverse group, including both a man dressed in a dark business suit and tie and a woman who wore sweats and a set of headphones, looking as though she was pulled away from her work to be here. All of the committee members spoke to one another in a Scandinavian language that Aisling found slightly familiar. It reminded her of the Northmen who had threatened Ulster Castle.

Had that really been less than two days ago? The battles against Jarl Ylva felt as though it was a distant memory.

Once everyone was seated, several members of staff emerged, serving food and drinks to everyone at the large table. One member of Cali’s committee, a bald middle-aged man dressed in a dark green turtleneck, spoke up:

“Cali insisted we give you all a chance to eat and recover your strength before we begin.” He said.

“How trusting of you.” Mina replied, shooting a glance at Blake, who was seated next to Marisol.

The woman dressed in activewear picked up on Mina’s hostility and spoke in a nasally tone that suggested she was younger than she appeared:

“Honey, you’re in the bAAR, a place built by, like, twenty years’ worth of Paradox writers and readers. There’s, like, more magic, sci-fi tech, and authorial intent built into this place than you can possibly imagine. Trust me when I say, like, you can’t pull any surprises on us here.”

Blake pointed up at the ceiling.

“Did you put that there, Cali?”

Aisling looked up as well. There was a mechanical device attached to one of the rafters. A metal probe stuck out from one side, emitting a blue light.

“I had to put the anti-Psionic weapon somewhere.” Cali responded with a shrug.

Meanwhile, the committee member got back on track:

“We were told by Blake about your… uh… lack of food options in the worlds you come from.” The man continued. “I’ve asked the bAAR to provide you with a little of everything to start with.”

Aisling looked down at the plate in front of her. There was meat, cheese, fruits and vegetables, noodles and potatoes and bread and so much more. Aisling could, if she squinted her eyes, perceive the strange magic that allowed a grand feast fit for a Royal Court to be contained within such a small and humble plate. A moment later, she spotted something very interesting.

“Are those desserts?” Aisling asked, pointing. “What are they?”

Blake leaned over.

“Oh, those are some of the most iconic sweet treats we have here in Michigan. Cherry pie and Mackinac Island Fudge. Try it.”

Blake looked around the table, and a smile came to his face.

“Aw nice! It looks like we’ve got classic Michigan dishes all around. Dig in, everyone. Lord Durham and the folks who run this place have always written better food than me.”

All of the Creations (save for Cali) went through an identical process. They took cautious nibbles of the food in front of them, and then discovered the full palate of flavors that simply did not exist in whatever world they came from.

As one, the Creations lost their composure and started to eat greedily as though this was the last meal on Earth. Even Mina lost her train of thought when she was enraptured by a paczki. Sebakhira lost herself in bowl of haneeth. (a Middle-Eastern dish of lamb and rice)

Varian sank his (or her) teeth into an olive burger and did not come up for air, savoring the flavor for as long as possible. Trig attempted to eat Detroit-style deep-dish pizza with a spoon, causing Marisol to have a fit of giggles. Kanti simply stared at a pan-fried whitefish served with chopped veggies and tangy sauce.

“I can’t destroy this.” Kanti breathed. “It’s too beautiful.”

Aisling thought the cherry pie was divine, only to discover the joys of hot fudge and bumpy cake, before attempting to wash everything down with a sip from a Boston Cooler. Aisling had never even heard of “Ginger Ale” before, and it caught her off-guard. She coughed and spluttered loudly while Blake offered her a napkin.

“I should have seen that one coming.” He said. “I never wrote you with a sweet tooth, Aisling. But you really seem to love candy now that you’re here.”

“Being exposed to things in the real world changes us.” Cali chimed in. “For instance, I’ve developed a bit of a dependence on coffee since I got here. There’s no caffeine in my world.”

The turtleneck-wearing member of Cali’s committee cleared his throat.

“When this is all over, D’Kara, we’re still having that conversation about the coffee budget. But…” He clapped his hands together. “I think right now what we need are introductions and explanations. So…”

He stood up.

“My name is Herten Forsman. I’m part of Paradox Development Studios Green.”

“I know you.” Marisol and Blake said at the same time.

“We talked at the convention in Berlin.” Blake said.

“I asked you a question on the Forums once.” Marisol added. “I think your username was Fearkat.”

“Yup. Fearkat, that’s me.” Herten replied. “Nice to finally meet the face behind Chosenpai.”

Aisling raised her eyebrow.

“Is this world smaller than mine?” She asked. “How does everyone know each other if you all live in different places?”

“Their world isn’t smaller, my dear.” Herten replied. “Communication between countries and cities is easier here than what you’re accustomed to… it just makes the world seem smaller. And that’s why my colleague is here.”

Herten gestured to the woman dressed up for a day at the gym. She waved a hand meekly and said:

“Hey, yeah. I’m Swearlok2. Real name Bella. I’m from PDX Black and I’m, like, one of the guys who writes events for Crusader Kings Three.”

“Swearlok is the newest member of our group.” Herten continued. “We brought her on board after Cali told us about a CK3 character crossing over.”

“See kay three?” Aisling repeated.

“Crusader Kings Three.” Marisol replied. “It’s kinda complicated, but that’s the world you come from.”

Aisling took a deep breath, and then reluctantly put down her knife and fork. She would try to pay attention, but she was already getting lost.

“We are the Countermeasures Committee.” Herten said, gesturing to himself and the five other people seated near him. “One year ago, Blake Robinson, through his writing, created a scenario that allowed Cali D’Kara to cross the Fourth Wall and enter the real world. This happened because of story elements we wrote into our game, Stellaris.”

Cali stood up.

“I went to Paradox Interactive. Introduced myself and explained my situation. It took about a month for them to fully grasp the implications. What this could mean.”

“The executives at Paradox realized we had a ticking time bomb on our hands.” Herten said. “That if Blake was able to bring a Creation across the Fourth Wall by accident, then someone else could do it deliberately. Cali also raised the possibility of a Creation breaking through on their own. This committee was established as a… how shall I say… an Early Warning System and first line of defense.”

“Defense?” Varian repeated. “You mean like in the military way?”

“Not officially.” Herten said. “You see, the Senior Management and Board of Directors, that’s the leaders of Paradox Interactive, are both completely paralyzed right now. They can’t come to any agreement on what to do about these developments. For the past year, they’ve been having long-running meetings, debating and arguing over the best way to deal with any more Creations that come through the Fourth Wall. Lots of ideas are thrown out, and no consensus to be found.”

Ailsing tilted her head and said:

“What language are you speaking?”

Bella startled, then offered a simplified translation for Aisling:

“So he’s saying that uh… like, because of Blake over there, our King and his court are, like, preparing for war… but… uh… like, they don’t know anything about the enemy Blake turned loose in their land… so they’re like confused and don’t know what to do.”

“Oh.” Aisling replied.

“Thank God for this woman.” One of the committee members said, pointing his thumb at Bella.

“To say we are confused is an understatement.” Herten said. “This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for. And I haven’t even started on the implications for the rest of the Forums. We have hundreds of fans writing stories about Paradox games. This catastrophe could repeat itself at any moment.”

“Fifty kroner says the Age of Wonders playerbase is the one that actually gets us all killed.” Bella snarked. “Speaking of… I’ve got a question about Aisling, Blake. Are we sure she’s not from Age of Wonders 4? She looks like she’s from that game.”

Blake did a double-take, looking at Aisling, then back at Bella.

“Uh, no. She’s an Irish fairy. You know, from like The Dreaming Tree. Ever read Cherryh’s books?”

Bella narrowed her eyes at Aisling, who blushed and hid her face in her hands. Not wanting to be seen, Aisling shapeshifted into a mouse, curling up underneath her dinner napkin. Unable to see out, she perked up her ears to listen. Her transformation had caused some commotion.

“Incredible!” Herten gasped.

“Yo, dude. I’ve seen that in a movie.” Bella said. “Blake, did you just copy Nimona’s powers from the movie? That’s so lazy, bro.”

“I told him the same thing!” Marisol cut in. “I knew people were gonna spot it!”

Aisling felt very embarrassed, not because people were talking about her like this, but by the implication that her abilities were copied from someone else. It made her feel even less real than she already did.

“Who here does not have some sort of supernatural power?” Herten asked.

There was a rustle as a few hands were raised.

“Good God.” Herten breathed. “Okay, we’re starting to get a handle on the situation here.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Cali interrupted.

“Sir… I think you’ve missed the most important part of my report. Malum and his team control a series of Gateways on the other side of the Fourth Wall, the ‘Broken Gates’ Blake wrote about in his last Stellaris story. That means our enemy has a lot of control over where and when they cross through the Fourth Wall.”

“That explains a few things.” Herten grumbled. “Blake, two of your characters were in the SolAARium… but when the Moderators tried to apprehend them, they escaped through some kind of portal.”

Aisling poked her snout out from under the napkin, trying to see Blake’s face. He looked very worried.

“Moderators?” Blake repeated.

“Uh… well…” Herten fumbled with his words.

Bella cut across him and blurted out:

“One of the broads was naked. Like, wearing a grass skirt and nothing else.”

Varian, Trig, and Marisol all let out immature snickers and giggles.

“Whetu Kealoha.” Blake said. “She’s got stealth powers. She was probably sneaking around with Akira. It sounds like something I would write.”

Marisol extended her hand across the table, holding it next to where Aisling was hiding. Aisling sniffed Marisol’s fingertip for a moment, then cautiously clambered into Marisol’s palm. Slowly, Marisol cupped her hands together, creating a little bowl shape for Aisling to peer out of. Looking up, Aisling saw that Marisol was carrying her close to her own chest.

Herten stood up.

“For everyone’s safety, we’re going to relocate all of you to Paradox Headquarters in Stockholm.”

Blake and Marisol both started to protest, but Herten gave them a very stern look.

“The two of you should know by now that you’re in way over your head. Blake, we’re going to send your father home just as soon as we’ve verified it’s safe to do so. Cali has got her people outside the bAAR making sure no one follows-”

He never finished his sentence. At that moment, the two-way radio on Cali’s belt crackled and a transmission began to play.

“D’Kara, we’ve got a Creation approaching the bAAR. Adult female, Caucasian, red dress, blue hair. Unarmed. Distance two hundred meters. Please advise, over.”

Cali pushed her chair back and stood. Suddenly, she looked very much like the soldier Blake had written her to be.

“This meeting’s over.” Cali said. “Committee, into the SolAARium. Creations, upstairs. I want guards in the hallway. Creators into the Inkwell. Now.”

<=== Episode Ten: This may sound weird, but I've always been certain this would happen.

Episode 12: It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart! ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

I'm back!

Well, I've finally gotten to the point where Homeworld 3 is no longer dominating every waking moment of my free time. I had an epic week finally getting to play the game I've waited over twenty years for. The game also gave me several ideas for my next Stellaris story that are now safely stashed away in my notebook.

Some housekeeping notes before we start:

This chapter contains a brief discussion about events in one of my other fanfictions called Finding Love Under the Winter Star. It is a short story based on Stardew Valley. The story is not located on the Paradox Forums and can only be found on my Ao3 page. (Archive of Our Own Link here) I do know that some people might be curious about the full details, so you will find a SPOILER button at the very end of this chapter.

Hidden behind the SPOILER button will be Chapter 6 of Finding Love Under the Winter Star. This chapter contains the events that will be referenced and discussed during today's post.

<=== Episode 11: This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for.

Episode 13: He’s your Creator, not your lover. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Twelve: It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart!

---

Aisling
Creation
The bAAR, Paradox Interactive Forums


Aisling’s curiosity got the best of her. When Cali gave the order to hide, she refused.

Still in the form of a mouse, Aisling extricated herself from Marisol’s grip and scampered down one of her pant legs, causing the unsuspecting young woman to yelp in surprise. In seconds, Aisling managed to conceal herself beneath a forgotten napkin with a good view of the door… and what happened next.

The men and women of Cali’s team quickly escorted everyone out of the room. In moments, Cali and four of her teammates were the only people in the bAAR, save for the old caretaker of the Inkwell, who totally ignored the proceedings and carried on with his own work as though nothing interesting was happening at all. A moment later, the heavy oak door was pushed open and three people entered.

Two of them were members of Cali’s team, and they were escorting a woman.

Is it that Tenna girl? Aisling asked herself. She definitely looks like a Creation.

Aisling sniffed the air. Something about this new woman was just a little off. Aisling had shapeshifted into several animals by this point and discovered that Creations like herself had a very distinct scent that she could recognize. It was not a conventional odor or a strong smell, but rather… a general atmosphere of un-belonging that all Creations carried with them. Even Cali emitted this strange aura.

The newcomer was an adult woman wearing a red dress. Her messy bright blue hair stood out in the dim light, causing Aisling to mistake her for Tenna for the second time in as many minutes. The fairy was not alone in her mistake.

“Is that Tenna Annora? From Song of the Solitaire?” One of Cali’s men asked.

“Don’t think so.” A female trooper replied. “Her color palette is reversed: Red dress, blue hair. Tenna has red hair and a blue dress.”

Cali raised a hand.

“That’s close enough. Tell me your name before we do anything else.”

The woman put her fingers together and fidgeted nervously before speaking in a soft but unexpectedly mature voice:

“My name is Emily. I’m Hayley’s sister. I’m looking for my boyfriend, Blake. Someone told me he was here… and that… he’s… uh… a Creator… My Creator.”

From her hiding place, Aisling had to suppress a squeak of confused surprise. In her own world, the term “boyfriend” did not exist, so she was momentarily lost until one of Cali’s teammates let out a laugh and said:

“Wait… hold on a second, can you say that again? I just… I need to hear it again.”

He was fiddling with his smartphone, trying to set up audio recording app. Emily’s face seemed to light up with emotion.

“Blake and I are in love.” Emily said. “I heard he was going to propose to me after the Feast of the Winter Star, but then I met the woman in the military uniform. She told me that this was where Blake comes from, and… and she said…”

Emily trailed off, her face turning as red as her outfit. When Cali spoke, her voice trembled from suppressed emotion.

“Get that idiotic writer in here. Now.” Cali hissed.

Blake was pulled out of the Inkwell. Marisol followed closely behind, looking curious. Aisling briefly lost her sense of self, transforming into a swirling red vapor before reforming as a young girl, seated on a barstool and looking extremely interested. Emily saw this and clapped her hands with an excited smile on her face.

“Oh! Oh! Forest magic!” Emily declared, looking at Aisling. “Are you one of the Junimos I’ve heard about?”

“What?” Was all Aisling could say.

Unlike all of Blake’s other Creations, Aisling found this Emily person very hard to read. There was something off about her… Emily’s very nature as a Creation did not match that of everyone else.

When Blake entered the main dining area, he saw Emily and the color seemed to drain out of his face. He tried to back off, to hide, but Cali would not allow it. As soon as she saw him, Emily reacted with a very strong show of affection.

“Blake! I found you!” Emily cried. “I’m so happy.”

“Hello, Emily.” Blake said.

Cali rounded on Blake, grabbed him by the front of his jacket and spoke in an angry rumble:

“So, that’s one of the characters you made up as a love interest for yourself. Listen up: now that she’s here, she’s an individual with human rights that must be respected. If I get word that you’ve done or said anything to her that-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Blake interrupted. “I’m way ahead of you there.”

“So you wrote a story where she fell in love with you?” Aisling asked, pointing at Emily.

Emily was now blushing so furiously that her face resembled a tomato.

“Wait…” Emily said slowly. “You know about us?”

“I do!” Marisol said, raising her hand and failing to realize that she was not being helpful. “Finding Love Under the Winter Star is such a sweet little story. I thought your love scene with Blake in the sleeping bag was so cute!”

Emily began to lose her composure. She held her hands to her mouth, eyes wide and starting to fill with tears. She was hyperaware of the SWAT team members snickering and laughing. Then one of the troopers said:

“Robinson hit that? Nice!”

Cali reached across and smacked the man in the face.

“Use your brain for once!” Cali snapped. “From her point of view, this is like her secret diary being exposed to the whole damn world! Have some fucking courtesy!”

Then Cali turned to Emily.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Emily shook her head, and then tried to approach Blake. Cali blocked her.

“But it makes so much sense… Blake being my author.” Emily said. “It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart!”

Aisling looked over Emily’s shoulder and realized that Blake was extremely uncomfortable. He mouthed the words “don’t have the guts to tell her.” Marisol picked up on this and tried to run interference.

“Ah… Emily. A lot of characters Blake created have been popping up in the real world lately. You’re not the first, and we’re planning to move all of you somewhere else for your own safety. Why don’t you go upstairs and meet everyone else?”

Aisling hopped down from the barstool and approached Emily. The new Creation was significantly taller than the fairy, so Aisling pulled at the hem of Emily’s dress to get her attention.

“Come on. Come with me.” Aisling said.

“Yes, go with Aisling.” Blake said. “We’ll deal with all of this when we get to Stockholm.”

Aisling started to gently pull Emily toward the outside door and staircase. Emily held out her hand as though begging Blake to touch her just once. Aisling tugged harder.

“Very well, little forest spirit. Lead on.” Emily sighed in a resigned tone.

The last thing Aisling heard as she pulled Emily out of the room was the custodian of the Inkwell speaking to Blake and Cali:

“Just so you know, we’re taking that intrusion into the SolAARium very seriously. Security has been tightened. Forum users and Paradox employees are still permitted to use the passageway to Stockholm, but all Creations are going to be banned starting tonight. They’ll have to get to Paradox HQ another way.”

…

Upstairs, Aisling led Emily to the apartment where the female Creations were confined. To her surprise, she discovered that the room was full to capacity. At some point, all of the male creations had joined their female counterparts in the apartment.

“So, who’s the new girl?” Varian asked.

Aisling felt a wave of Psionic energy cross the room. Sebakhira and Kanti were both trying to read Emily’s mind. Emily herself was staring hard at the sight of the lion and peahen, her mouth agape.

“What a beautiful bird!” Emily exclaimed.

“Oh, you flatter me.” Kanti said. “It’s the males of my species who are beautiful. We hens are rather dull.”

“You’re taking all of this pretty well.” Trig commented.

“Maybe she’s from a story where talking lions and peacocks are normal?” Mina suggested.

Emily put her hands together and smiled.

“Stardew Valley is a place of magic and wonder.” Emily said. “I’ve been able to talk to plants all my life. Why not animals in this place too?”

Sebakhira’s eyes widened.

“I don’t sense any Psionic aptitude in you. How is this possible?” The lioness inquired.

“Probably a quirk of her own story.” Trig replied with a shrug. “Playing by different rules than the rest of us.”

Kanti suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Everyone turned to look at her. Aisling felt the blood drain out of her own face.

“Or…” Kanti said, trying and failing to suppress a cackle, “Maybe she gets special treatment because-”

“Stop!” Aisling raised her voice.

It was so uncommon for the little fairy to shout that Kanti immediately took notice. Now all of the Creations had their eyes on Aisling.

Aisling knew that Kanti and Sebakhira were mind-readers, and had probably already found the compromising knowledge discussed downstairs.

“They already talked about that below.” Aisling said in a meek tone. “Emily doesn’t need to be tormented again.”

Emily, blushing once more, mouthed the words “Thank you.”



…

---

Tenna Annora
Creation
Rotholmen, Sweden


The view was so incredible that Tenna forgot about the cold. She was standing in front of the construction site, located near the center of a small forested island, and using a tablet computer to watch the video feed from a drone high above her head.

The drone itself was made up of several million microscopic nanobots, drawn directly from the Nanite Armor worn by Cassandra Espinosa, who was standing nearby as she controlled the drone.

“I’ve never seen so many islands in my life.” Tenna breathed. “It’s like the city itself has merged with the sea.”

Behind Tenna and Cassandra, Whetu Kealoha and Akira Robinson used Telekinesis to lift a heavy component into place. For the first time, the newest addition to the Broken Gates actually looked like… well… a Gate.

The ring-shaped structure was not complete. More work had to be done, more materials delivered. Akira pulled out her Return Beacon and clicked it. A Vortex Portal appeared and quickly swallowed up herself and Whetu, leaving Cassandra and Tenna alone on the island.

“Bring the drone a little further to the north.” Tenna said. “I want to take another look at that one island completely covered in cityscape.”

“The one with the disc golf park and football pitch?” Cassandra asked.

“Yeah, that one.”

The drone banked right, putting the Swedish Parliament, Royal Palace, and Nobel Prize Museum on its left and flew south.

“Wait a second.” Tenna said. “Slow down. I saw something. Come to the right by seven degrees.”

Cassandra nodded and closed her eyes. All of her nanobots were controlled via implants in her brain, so making this change was as simple as allowing an idea to come to her mind. Tenna focused hard on the screen.

“Lose some altitude. Come down to fifty meters.” Tenna said. “Camera angle down another ten degrees please. Slow down. One more degree to the right. Slow down again. Oh, holy Saida! Stop! Stop when you’re over the hospital and turn one-hundred degrees to your right!”

Tenna was breathing faster now. Cassandra was getting excited as well.

“Do you see it!?” Tenna asked. “There’s a skybridge connecting those two buildings. The south structure is right next to the hospital, the north structure is across the street. Get closer to that skybridge!”

Cassandra complied.

The skybridge had two levels, as though it was simultaneously connecting two different floors of each building to each other. On the upper level, just faintly visible in the early morning light… was a round symbol.

“Is that what I think it is?” Cassandra said. “Is that a picture of a platypus fossil?”

Cassandra decided to take a large risk. Her drone descended to just above street level. Several Swedish people, commuting to work in the early morning, noticed the drone and looked up, pointing at it. Cassandra and Tenna ignored them. They guided the drone to the entrance of the southern building.

The glass front door, at street level, had the words Stockholms Verken written in white letters just above a warning sign about closed-circuit security cameras. There was a keypad and intercom button to the left of the door. To the right was a black sign with orange letters. The black sign said this:

Magnus Ladulåsgatan 4

6.
5.
4.
3. Paradox Interactive
2.
1. Trimero

Cassandra and Tenna grabbed one another, jumping and cheering for joy.

They had found it.

<=== Episode 11: This is far worse than any nightmare scenario we planned for.

Episode 13: He’s your Creator, not your lover. ===>​

Spoiler: Winter Star: Chapter 6

Chapter 6
​

Cindersap Forest
Day 24 of Winter, Year 1
10:30pm


Hidden away in a far corner of the forest, the dim light of a campfire illuminated the Secret Woods.

A purple tent stood in a clearing, its fabric adorned with a pattern of stars that evoked the beautiful night sky above. Emily and Blake, dressed from head to foot in heavy winter gear, huddled next to each other by the fire. A cookout kit simmered away, gently wafting steam into the air as a pot of stew brewed. One of the two sleeping bags was still rolled up beside the tent. The couple were more interested in the fire at the moment… and each other.

“Well, this is fun, isn’t it?” Emily asked, taking a sip of hot cocoa from her mug.

Blake did the same. He was happy to be away from the farm and all of his worries for a few hours, happier still to be spending that time with someone he loved. Emily looked around at the surrounding forest. The light of the campfire only went so far, and the darkness pressed in from all sides.

“Kind of spooky, actually…” Emily said, her voice a little quieter and fluttery like a bird.

There was a deep grumbling sound in the distance. Blake and Emily stood closer together and drank more cocoa. Emily took a deep breath and downed her beverage completely, setting her mug in the snow beside the fire. Her face flushed and she whispered:

“Heh… it’s chilly out here...”

There was a crunching sound in the snow.

Emily was a little closer. Blake felt his face get hot.

More crunching.

Closer still. Blake’s heart started to race.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Emily started to wrap her left arm around Blake’s right arm. Thinking quickly, he transferred his hot cocoa to his left hand and allowed Emily to continue.

Emily closed her eyes and put her head on Blake’s shoulder. He relaxed, holding onto Emily, trying to savor the moment as long as he could.

There was another crunching sound; but this time Emily had not moved. Blake and Emily opened their eyes and looked around to see what was making this new noise.

All Blake saw was a huge mass of fur and a big black nose. He and Emily both screamed and ran inside the tent, zipping the door shut behind them. As he fled, Blake dropped his mug into the fire. The campfire let out a loud hissing sound as it was doused. Then, Blake and Emily were in the tent together, huddled on top of the sleeping bag and holding onto one another for dear life. Outside, the pair could hear the sounds of the cookout kit being knocked over.

“A bear!” Emily gasped. “I hope he’s not hungry.”

Emily grabbed the corner of the sleeping bag and tried to pull it over herself, in much the same way a child hides under the bedcovers. She tugged and tugged for a moment before realizing Blake was sitting on top of it.

“Hold on…” Blake muttered, looking around.

After a moment, their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Emily and Blake could see again. They could also hear the sound of the bear moving away, deeper into the forest.

“Oh, the other sleeping bag is still outside.” Emily breathed. “No way am I going back out there!”

“Neither am I!” Blake replied. “I won’t leave you alone, not now.”

Blake and Emily held onto each other for a few minutes. Even though the campfire was extinguished and snow was falling on the tent, Blake noticed that Emily felt very warm. He did not want to let go of her. She looked up at him and said:

“Um… Blake? You don’t mind sharing a sleeping bag with me, do you?”

…

Blake and Emily stayed together most of the night, enjoying each other’s company as much as they could. But eventually, they both needed to go home. If they stayed out here, the tent would be buried in snow by sunrise. Of course, at 2 o’clock in the morning, both Blake and Emily were very tired and worn out, so certain details of the night were lost to them.

But there were two very important things Blake remembered:

First, when he extracted himself from the sleeping bag to find his sweater, he doubled back to Emily, kissed her and said: “I love you.”

Second, about an hour later, when Blake dropped Emily off at her own house in the dead of night, she had kissed him back and said: “I love you.”

By the time Blake returned to Solitaire Farm, it was three in the morning. He collapsed into his bed without so much as removing his boots. Blake knew, just before he passed out, that he would gladly suffer such intense exhaustion again if it meant another night like this one.

 

[Macavity116]

Hello dear readers! We have reached a turning point in the story. We're leaving Michigan behind and moving on to Sweden! This means the story is entering it's midpoint. The next two or three chapters are going to be quite fun. We're going to learn some of Marisol's backstory, start developing her friendship with Aisling, and find out what happened to Kailani Kalili after she vanished in that big fight in Downtown Detroit.

<=== Episode Twelve: It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart!

Episode 14: I wrote your story. It's only fair I tell you mine. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Thirteen: He’s your Creator, not your lover.

---

Marisol
Creator
Detroit, Michigan


It was time to move.

While the Creations were stockpiling food and supplies in the bAAR for the upcoming journey, Cali pulled Marisol and Blake aside. Two members of the Countermeasures Committee were standing with her just outside of the bAAR: Herten Forsman and the Crusader Kings developer named Bella.

“We’re arranging alternate transport to get everyone to Sweden.” Cali said. “Marisol, we’ve got people raiding your hotel room now to collect your passport. Blake, we’re sending your father back to Shiawassee to get yours.”

“I told you, I can’t go to Sweden.” Marisol repeated. “My job, my family!”

“Yes… Cali told us about those concerns.” Herten replied. “But this is an emergency, unlike anything we’ve seen before. I understand your fear. Losing your job and letting down your family are terrible crosses to bear… but you must understand that you have a part in all of this… a responsibility.”

“You said it yourself.” Cali added. “You put so much work into Aisling that she’s just as much your Creation as she is Blake’s. You’re involved, like it or not, and you can’t just go home. Not yet anyway.”

Feeling backed into a corner, Marisol leaned against a wrought-iron fence, casting her gaze up to the art deco facade of the nearby Guardian Building. Two armored cars pulled up in front of the bAAR, where Blake Robinson’s father was bundled into one and quickly driven away.

A short ways off, Marisol could hear Blake making the same argument to Cali. Of course, she was not interested in letting him off the hook at all.

A tiny scratching sensation at Marisol’s feet caught her attention. A small housecat was clawing her ankles.

“Aisling, were you eavesdropping?” Marisol whispered.

The cat quickly changed into a girl.

“I’m sorry.” Aisling replied in a soft mumble. “I heard Cali say that thing before, and I’ve been meaning to ask about it.”

“What thing?” Marisol asked.

“About how you’re also my Creator… but it doesn’t make sense.” Aisling replied.

“Oh… well I can explain that.” Marisol replied. “You see, Blake is the author, he writes the story. I’m the beta reader. I am the very first person who gets to read it… which means it’s my job to check for mistakes, to recommend edits or changes. When we were starting out on Last Days of the Emerald Isle, I saw a lot of things about you that… well, if they were changed, your story would be better. So I told Blake and he made those changes.”

Marisol could see goosebumps rising on Aisling’s arms.

“So… if you didn’t make the author change me, I wouldn’t be me?” Aisling asked, her red eyes going very wide.

“Um… Yes, I suppose.” Marisol replied.

Suddenly, Marisol felt the breath being squeezed out of her. Aisling was hugging her very tightly.

“So that means Blake is my father, and you’re my mother?” Aisling said.

Marisol blushed so hard she felt as though she was caught in a cloud of steam.

“Wait… hold on.” Marisol stammered. “No… that’s not what I meant at all…”

In that moment, Marisol realized that Aisling hugging her and declaring Marisol to be her “mother” was exactly the sort of painfully cute behavior that Marisol would have written, not Blake.

Oh, God. This one’s my fault. Marisol thought to herself.

Marisol had no idea how to tactfully reject Aisling’s surprising conclusion. A long time ago, she had chosen to embrace the natural protective instincts that came along with the status of “Eldest Sibling,” and Aisling had somehow found a way to activate said instincts.

“You hug the same way my sister does.” Marisol mumbled as she put her arms around Aisling. “If you and Mariposa ever got together, you’d probably crush me.”

Reluctantly, Marisol started to accept Aisling as her own Creation… and the responsibility it implied.

…

About ten minutes later, Marisol barged into Cali’s conversation with Blake, Herten, and Bella. They were discussing how to get the Creations to Stockholm after they were unceremoniously banned from the SolAARium passageway.

“Obviously, we need to get a plane.” Herten was saying. “I can have PDX charter a jet and get it here by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Detroit Metro is the closest airport we can fly out of.” Blake said. “But we’ll have to get through both the TSA and US Border Patrol just to reach the private jet.”

“Like, those guys are totally gonna ask a shit-ton of questions when they see the talking lion.” Bella pointed out.

“Right.” Herten said. “Then what can we do?”

Marisol raised her voice and interrupted:

“We’ve gotta start breaking rules.”

The group turned to look at her. Marisol pressed on.

“Like you said, Paradox guy.” Marisol had forgotten Herten’s name. “This is an emergency beyond anything else. I… I know a couple of people who might be able to help us…but we won’t be able to reach them unless we break some rules. All of the Gifted Creations, the ones with telepathic powers, will have to get us through the airport. Blake, I’ve read your stories. Sebakhira, Trig, Kanti have all sorts of powers that would let us get through.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Blake said.

Marisol pressed her thumb into her own chest.

“I’m a flight stewardess for a major international airline. I can get us onto a plane through the crew terminal! Every airport has one. They make it easier for flight crews and pilots to check their bags and get onto the plane.”

Cali’s eyes had gone wide. She was already reaching for her smartphone and calling a member of her SWAT team.

“Do you know someone at Asiana who can help us?”

“Yup.” Marisol said. “I know one of the managers around here, and a pilot.”

Cali was speaking into her phone, telling her team to take all of Marisol’s belongings from her hotel room and not just her passport.

“Find any and all documentation related to the airline she works at.” Cali said. “Asiana Airlines.”

She also ordered them to do reconnaissance on the crew terminal at Detroit Metro Airport.

“You know a pilot?” Blake remarked with a low whistle. “Impressive.”

“Not really.” Marisol replied with a shrug. “I’m aircrew. I’ve met literally hundreds of pilots, dude. Besides, it’s the fact that I know both the regional manager and a pilot that’s important.”

“Oh.” Blake sounded as though he was deflating.

“You weren’t kidding, D’Kara.” Herten laughed. “Robinson really does live in the middle of nowhere.”

…

---

Marisol
Creator
Detroit Metropolitan Airport, Michigan


After a long series of phone calls, the plan was arranged:

Blake, Marisol, all of the Creations, Cali, six members of the SWAT team, Herten, and Bella would travel to Detroit Metro and board the plane waiting there. The rest of the Countermeasures Committee and the rest of the SWAT Team would use the magical/sci-fi tunnel between the bAAR and SolAARium to return to Sweden.

Since the whole operation was Marisol’s idea, Cali named their little expedition “Team Marisol.” Marisol hated this.

“Too bad.” Cali replied in a joking tone. “You picked up the ball of responsibility. Now you have to run with it.”

The Creations emerged from the bAAR, laden with backpacks, and piled into a convoy of armored cars. Just as Blake, Marisol, Aisling, and Emily clambered into the final vehicle it started to rain. A downpour drenched the convoy as it drove away from the bAAR for the final time.

“That doesn’t feel like ordinary rain.” Blake said.

He rolled down the window and held his hand out while the busy cityscape of Detroit whirled past. Sebakhira and Aisling both sniffed the air.

“I don’t sense any Psionics.” Sebakhira said.

“I sense magic.” Aisling said. “The Water Witch is nearby.”

“Uisce.” Blake said. “That underdeveloped protag who dropped the river on us.”

“Is she trying to slow us down?” Marisol asked.

“Doesn’t feel that way.” Aisling remarked. “More like… like she’s sending a signal.”

“Damnit.” Blake said. “I’ll bet she’s telling the rest of her teammates where we went. Cali! Call the rest of your guys and tell them to be on guard for an ambush!”

…

But there was no ambush. The convoy reached Detroit Metro with time to spare. Marisol felt a tingle in her bones. As previously discussed, Kanti, Sebakhira, and Trig were all employing their Psionic powers as soon as the cars came to a stop.

“Everyone out and move quickly.” Trig ordered.

He focused his words at Emily, who was lagging behind. She was trying to slowly soak in the Psionic energy permeating her body.

“That means we’ve gotta hurry!” Blake barked. He grabbed Emily by the hand and pulled her along.

Marisol was amazed. Even though it was almost five o’clock in the morning, the international airport was abuzz with thousands of people. The trio of telepaths sent a wave of their power through the crowds. The onlookers were left in a stupefied daze, unthinking, unfeeling.

“That won’t last long, move!” Kanti ordered.

The albino peahen spread her wings and took flight, sailing through the air and alighting on a second-floor balcony.

“This way!”

Team Marisol pushed through the stupefied crowd, following Kanti’s earsplitting birdcalls. Sebakhira got down on all four paws and ran alongside Marisol.

“We must find this crew terminal!” She said.

“Look for the security checkpoint.” Marisol panted. “The entrance will be nearby!”

“TSA!” Blake called out. “Find the letters TSA!”

“There!” Varian cried out.

At least one security guard at the checkpoint had noticed the incoming disturbance and was reaching for his radio in the moment he was stupefied. Kanti soared above the checkpoint, bumping her head on the ceiling. She sent several waves of Psionic energy into the checkpoint, rendering travelers and staff alike too dumb to do anything other than stand still.

Marisol grabbed Blake by the hand.

“Follow me!”

As Team Marisol entered the crew terminal, a noise from above began to grow louder.

“Is that the rainstorm outside?” Mina asked.

“Don’t hit the guy in the Asiana office!” Marisol called out. “He’s our man!”

A middle-aged Korean man let out a scream of terror as a lion, a peahen, several Humanoid aliens, and a gathering of assorted people ran toward him at high speed.

“Reyes, is that you!?” He gasped. “You and your… uh… plus ones?”

“Yeah, it’s me!” Marisol panted; reaching into the backpack Cali’s team had retrieved from the hotel in Flint.

Marisol slammed her Asiana ID onto the desk and said:

“Put us on the Repo Flight with Captain Yoshido! Please! I told you it’s an emergency.”

“And so did your friend over the phone.” The manager replied, scanning Marisol’s ID at the computer before handing it back. “Gate 15, and please be safe. That storm out there is getting worse, and I think they might shut down the airport soon.”

Team Marisol ran the length of the crew terminal, and looking out the windows, they saw the manager was right. What started as a rainsquall was quickly turning into a major thunderstorm.

“Okay, now the Water Witch is trying to stop us!” Blake yelled. “Everyone haul ass!”

The team made the final sprint where a perplexed-looking Asiana employee waved them to an exit. Trig stopped just long enough to stupefy them before rejoining the group.

Team Marisol passed through a boarding tunnel and found themselves on an Airbus A-330 passenger jet. Two pilots and an engineer were standing in the forward galley to greet them. The lack of surprise on their faces suggested Marisol had warned them about who was coming aboard. Turning left and into the main fuselage, Team Marisol quickly discovered the airplane was devoid of passengers. There was no one aboard save for the crew.

“This is a repositioning flight.” Marisol explained. “Corporate is having the plane moved somewhere else for future use. Now everyone sit down!”

One of the pilots (Identified as Captain Yoshido by Marisol) leaned in toward Marisol and said:

“This is going to be one helluva story, isn’t it?”

“You’ve no idea.” Marisol replied.

The storm outside intensified. The sound of rain hitting the airframe was now a dull roar.

It was at this moment that something rather strange happened. Marisol was a passenger on this flight by every possible metric. However, attempting to board the plane in a hurry had caused her brain to autonomously click back into “work mode.” She pulled the intercom phone off the wall, and as the plane started to move back from the terminal, she instinctively said:

“Pilot, cabin crew. Starting safety brief.”

Perhaps because the situation was tense (and very confusing) the pilot also responded autonomously, without really thinking things over.

“Understood. ATC says we’re second in line.”

And then Marisol rounded on the rest of her team, who were looking at her as though she was a different person.

“We’re on the clock today, so you’re getting the short version. My name is Marisol Reyes and I’ll be your cabin crew today. Welcome aboard Asiana Airlines. Please pay attention and obey all crew member instructions. If the seatbelt sign is on, buckle up low and below your hips. The oxygen masks are above you and will drop of there’s a cabin pressure emergency. If that happens, stop screaming, pull down on the mask, place over your nose and mouth, and adjust the elastic on both sides until it fits. Secure your own mask before helping the lion or peacock next to you. The bag might not inflate, but the air is flowing, trust me. Just breathe normally.”

Sebakhira blinked, having taken up three seats lying on her side.

“Life jackets are under your seat. Pull the red tag to inflate but don’t do it until you’re off the plane. No smoking ever! It’s dangerous. If there’s an emergency, brace yourself on the seat in front of you, keep your feet flat on the floor. Emergency lighting on the floors show where the exits are. Look around now, the closest exit might be behind you. Please secure all of your belongings below your seats now, put the tray tables up, and we will take off momentarily.”

Blake’s jaw had fallen open.

“Honestly, I thought you used cue cards or a teleprompter or something. You really had that all that memorized?” He said.

“Yeah.” Marisol replied nonchalantly before clambering into the jump seat reserved for flight attendants and buckling her seat belt.

The captain’s voice came over the intercom.

“Welcome aboard this highly unusual and… ahem… very lucrative collaboration between Asiana Airlines and Paradox Interactive. At this time, we are number one in line for takeoff, but we will be flying into some heavy rainstorms, so please keep those seatbelts fastened until the light is turned off. Thank you.”

The plane’s engines began to spool up, roaring until they drowned out the noise of the rain outside.

“Here we go.” Blake said. “Ah - whoa! Hey! What are you doing!?”

Emily had gotten into the seat next to Blake and was holding onto him with a tight vice grip.

“I’ve never flown before.” Emily whimpered. “I’m scared. Please hold me!”

“Oh, for the love of Sajuuk, pull yourself together!” Kanti snapped. “He’s your Creator, not your lover.”

Meanwhile, Aisling was looking out of the right-hand window, enraptured by the view of the runway.

“We’re moving so fast.” The fairy gasped.

Aisling suddenly felt the force of gravity pushing her backwards into her seat. Alarmed, she looked around at Marisol.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, first-time flier.” Marisol said. “Hang on, it’s vee-one!”

The Airbus lifted off, slipping away from Detroit and vanishing into the stormy night.

Down on the ground, Uisce the Water Witch reluctantly gave up the pursuit, instead choosing to return to the hideout. She wanted to know why none of Malum’s allies had answered her call for help.

<=== Episode Twelve: It was our destiny to be together... I believe that with all my heart!

Episode 14: I wrote your story. It's only fair I tell you mine. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Author's note: What is that term for when a character's appearance in the narrative doesn't match their official artwork? I have just noticed that Marisol doesn't wear glasses in her artwork, (pictured below) yet the narration occasionally makes reference to the fact that she does, in fact, wear glasses. This "error" is utterly meaningless but now that I've noticed, it's going to bug me fore a few days.

<=== Episode Thirteen: He’s your Creator, not your lover.

Episode 15: I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Fourteen: I wrote your story. It’s only fair I tell you mine.

---

Marisol
Creator
International Airspace, Atlantic Ocean


“Good morning passengers. Welcome aboard today’s Repositioning flight-turned emergency transport for a bunch of fantasyland people and video game programmers. I’m Captain Yoshido, my copilot is Mister Apodo and our flight engineer is Mr. Orante. Today we are flying nonstop to Berlin Brandenburg Airport in Germany, where you will meet your connecting flight to Bromma Stockholm. Our estimated flight time is about nine hours, so settle in and enjoy that spacious, empty cabin back there. We are now reaching our cruise altitude and the seatbelt sign will be turned off momentarily.”

As soon as Captain Yoshido turned off the PA system, everyone let out a deep relaxing sigh.

The six members of Cali’s SWAT team started to remove their body armor, taking it in turns to visit the bathrooms at the front and rear of the cabin. The two members of the Countermeasures Committee both relocated to the First Class area and sat down in the reclining chairs.

“I’ve decided adventure is not for me.” Herten said. “I can’t wait to get back behind a desk.”

Meanwhile, the Creations were depositing their backpacks in the empty seats a few rows back and taking stock of whatever they managed to bring along from the bAAR.

Unable to get her mind out of “work mode.” Marisol stood up from her jumpseat.

“Come on, guys.” She groaned. “Bags go in the overhead bins and… Hey Aisling, what is that?”

Trig passed a backpack to Aisling, which the fairy took with undisguised greed on her face. Aisling unzipped the bag and removed a very large object that smelled sweet. Blake elbowed his way over, took one glance and said:

“That is a ten-pound slab of chocolate. Are you planning to share that with us?”

The look of scandalized horror on Aisling’s face suggested she was not planning any such thing. Meanwhile, Trig had found a blanket in one of the overhead bins and was curling up in one of the window seats.

“We’re in for a long ride, I guess.” He said. “Anyone got an interesting story to tell? And not you, Blake! We’ve had enough of your stories.”

Everyone laughed.

“Okay, that’s fair.” Blake said.

He reached over a seat and found two duffel bags.

“Hey Cali!” Blake called back. “Tell your guys thanks for getting my personal stuff out of my house. Just saying, you could have left the musket behind though. I wouldn’t have complained.”

“I wanted to take it back for study.” Cali replied.

“Hey, Marisol! They’ve got your stuff here as well.” Blake added. “Your skateboard, your laptop, your notebook, and-”

Blake did not finish the sentence. Marisol snatched the small diary-sized commonplace book as soon as Blake held it up.

“Oh, you have your own stories in there.” Kanti blurted out. “Why don’t you tell us about those?”

Marisol blushed.

“Those are stories I’m not ready to share with people yet.” Marisol replied. “I thought you mind-readers would be able to figure that one out.”

“Again, it’s the way I write them.” Blake said. “Even if it’s obvious, they still have to say it aloud for the reader’s benefit. But, given this has come up twice now, I might change that for my next story. Maybe.”

Blake leaned back in his seat, looking lost in thought. Emily stroked his hair for a moment (stopping when Blake flinched) and then looked around.

“There’s something I don’t understand.” Emily said. “I’ve heard that some of you were told there was a plot to kill Blake... but others, like myself... Akira told us that Blake can re-write our stories. Change our worlds. Which one is it?”

“Hey, yeah.” Varian said. “She’s right. Mina and I were told to try and kill Blake outright... but now that you say something...”

“That Akira girl in the uniform said I could force Blake to change my story.” Aisling chimed in.

A deep growling drew everyone’s attention. Sebakhira was turned around in the First-Class section, her front paws dangling over the back of a reclining seat.

“Our foe does not have a united vision.” Sebakhira said. “Perhaps their group is just as fractious as our own?”

“Why not?” Bella chimed in. “From what Cali said in her report, these rogue Creations were just kinda making it up as they went along, fumbling their way to some distant end goal.”

Bella’s words seemed to have an effect on Blake. Out of the corner of her eye, Marisol saw his expression darken.

“Make it up as they go along.” Marisol repeated to herself.

After a moment, she understood. Blake Robinson’s writing style went in two phases: First, he would create the setting, then decide on how he wanted the story to end. In the second phase, Blake would make up the story as he went along, allowing characters to figure out their own path to the ending as though they had free will.

Emily also noticed that Blake seemed troubled and tried to talk to him. He tried to brush her off, then reached into his coat pocket.

“Hey, Emily.” Blake said. “This is a type of stone you can only get in Michigan, my home. I’m sure you’re the right person to take care of it.”

Marisol was amazed to see that Emily’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas as Blake gently pressed a small piece of fossilized coral into her hand. (A Petoskey Stone) Emily said:

“It’s so small and precious! I’m going to do a Rock Rejuvenation Ceremony for it!”

Emily got up and moved to the back of the plane, sitting down at a window seat.

“What was that?” Marisol gasped.

“The only way to make her shut up and leave me alone for a minute.” Blake said. “Emily is a really new-age type of character. Believes in the supernatural power of ancient rocks and crystals and stuff like that. Also, she’s a video game character at her core, not a narrative one. Manipulating her is infinitely easier than the others. Like flipping ones and zeroes.”

Blake was looking past Marisol. She turned around to see what he was looking at. Sebakhira and Kanti had both stopped their own conversation with Herten and were now glaring at Blake.

“What!?” Blake said.

Kanti flapped her wings and shook her head in a disapproving sort of way. Then she resumed speaking to Herten.

...

Around this point, the light of sunrise started leaking into the plane. All of the window covers were up, so many of the Creations stopped what they were doing to admire the Canadian frontier in the daylight. Aisling sat down next to Marisol and held up a large piece of chocolate.

“Oh, thank you so much!” Marisol said. “And... what is this?”

Aisling was holding up one of the airline safety pamphlets normally stowed in the seat pouches.

“What does it say?” Aisling inquired.

“That explains how to save yourself if there’s an emergency on the plane.” Marisol said. “I keep forgetting you don’t know how to read.”

“Can you teach me?” Aisling asked. “Is that something I could learn?”

Marisol froze.

Could Creations learn new skills outside of their own stories? Was that even possible? Marisol had no idea.

“Well, maybe.” Marisol replied slowly. “I might be able to teach you.”

But before Marisol could continue this train of thought, there was a loud clattering sound followed by a man’s voice saying;

“Roger, my aircraft.”

Captain Yoshido departed the cockpit, making sure the copilot and engineer locked the door behind him, and then entered the passenger area. Yoshido was a Japanese man in his early to mid 40’s. He was starting to lose his hair and had a very stern kind of face. Standing in the divider between First Class and Business Class, he said:

“So, Reyes. You’ve been up to a lot since the last time I saw you. What happened?”

“Where do I start?” Marisol groaned.

“Right at the very beginning.” Blake suggested. “I think we know everyone’s story here except for yours, Marisol.”

“What’s to tell?” Marisol replied. “I don’t lead an interesting life like all of these folks back here.”

She jabbed her thumb at the Creations.

“Aw, come on.” Trig said. “If we read your mind, I bet we could find something interesting that might be worth telling about.”

“I mean, I’ve been on a miracle flight once.” Marisol grumbled.

“Oh yeah!” Captain Yoshida laughed. “That old lady who screamed and cried that she needed a wheelchair to board the plane and that she deserved to be given preferential treatment by all of the FA’s, including you. I remember her.”

“Then when we landed, she walked off the plane like nothing was ever wrong with her.” Marisol finished. “That was fun.”

Trig clapped his hands.

“See? Stuff like that. I bet I could find…”

Very suddenly, Marisol remembered exactly why allowing a teenage telepath into her mind was a bad idea. She was about to say something when…

Trig let out a gasp of laughter.

He was staring directly at her, clutching at his chest with one hand and holding his other hand over his mouth. The young Creation had a downright lecherous expression on his face.

Far too late, Marisol realized what had just happened. Similar looks of dawning realization appeared on Kanti and Sebakhira’s faces.

“Oh, I get it now!” Kanti said. “That’s why this pilot was able to help us! To use a human term, it’s a quid pro quo. The Captain here owed you a favor because you previously allowed him to mate with you.”

Steam could have risen from Marisol’s head. Her glasses fogged up completely. Embarrassed beyond all reason, she sank into one of the middle row seats, trying to hide from view. Captain Yoshido covered his eyes with one hand and let out an exasperated sigh. Trig looked across the aisle at him and said:

“Dude… nice!”

“You shut up!” Blake shot back. “It’s rude to make comments like that.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” Marisol pouted. “I’m not the first FA to hook up with a pilot, you know.”

Kanti landed on the headrest of the seat next to her. She seemed to have realized that speaking Marisol’s secret aloud like this was a very bad idea. Kanti gave Marisol an apologetic glance before quietly stepping away.

…

For the next few hours, Marisol was mercifully left alone. The Creations talked among themselves about Malum Ralpakin and his strangely complicated plot. Meanwhile, Cali, Bella, and Herten interrogated Blake about the most minute details in his stories. Captain Yoshido dropped by just long enough to hold Marisol’s hand for a minute before returning to the cockpit.

At some point, something fluffy nuzzled its way under Marisol’s hand. She absentmindedly stroked the kitten, which began to purr loudly.

“Hi Aisling.” Marisol said.

The kitten jumped onto the floor and then shapeshifted into a human. Aisling was lying on her back on the floor.

“Please don’t lie on the floor.” Marisol said. “You have no idea how filthy airplane floors are.”

Marisol and Aisling adjusted themselves so they were sitting side-by-side.

“I’m sorry.” Aisling muttered.

“For what?” Marisol asked.

“They humiliated you. I didn’t do anything.” Aisling sounded like she was going to cry.

Marisol reached out and drew Aisling into a hug.

“Aw, you’re such a good friend.” Marisol said. “Tell you what. If you really wanna do something to help me out, I’ll make sure to help you in return, okay?”

“Okay… sure.” Aisling mumbled.

The Creations raised their voices, arguing over some detail Marisol did not care about. She turned to look at Aisling, really taking in the fairy’s appearance for the first time.

Aisling had changed, just a little, but changed enough since their first encounter that Marisol could notice. Aisling was slightly chubbier now, perhaps an effect of eating so much candy in a short span of time. Also, her eyes had shifted color by the smallest amount. They were no longer the deep red of sunset… instead, Marisol could tell that Aisling’s eyes were just a little lighter in color than before.

Marisol took a lock of Aisling’s white hair in her hand and gently twisted it.

“Your hair is so beautiful.” Marisol said. “Can… can I braid it?”

“You want to braid my hair?” Aisling asked.

“It’s so wild.” Marisol breathed.

A few minutes later, Marisol had retrieved a hairbrush, plus one of her old hair ties from her travel bag and set to work on Aisling’s wild tangles. Aisling seemed to enjoy being groomed. As Marisol worked, Aisling grabbed the fabric of her own dress, kneading it with her fingers in exactly the same way a cat would.

“You have a sister?” Aisling asked.

“Yes, Mariposa.” Marisol replied. “And a brother, Gabriel.”

“I… I feel…” Aisling could not find the right words. “I felt something about you. Something I didn’t understand.”

“What? Something strange about me?” Marisol asked. “When was this?”

“When we met.” Aisling replied. “The first time you said your name… your full name.”

Marisol paused, fistfuls of Aisling’s hair in her hands.

“Oh…” Marisol breathed, starting to work again. “Well, I have a very religious name. My family are Catholics, and they named me after Mary, Our Lady of Solitude.”

“Catholics are taking over Ireland.” Aisling said. “Back where I’m from.”

Marisol fought the urge to pause again.

“Yeah… I remember writing that.”

“Why?”

Marisol could not resist the urge to pause.

“Huh?” She said.

“Why’d they name you after the Catholic lady?”

Marisol chuckled.

“That’s a long story. It’s… uh… it’s actually…”

Marisol realized she had just backed herself into a corner. This was going to be a long flight, and Aisling was now looking very curious, peering at her with wide eyes.

Marisol sighed.

“Alright, sit up and face ahead so I can do your hair. I wrote your story. It’s only fair I tell you mine.”

“You have your own story?” Aisling asked.

“Yup.” Marisol said. “The story of how I became a miracle child.”

<=== Episode Thirteen: He’s your Creator, not your lover.

Episode 15: I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

MIDPOINT!

As previously promised, Whetu Kealoha is fully clothed from here on out.

Also, I lost my voice while recording the action scene at the end of this chapter. I think I'm out of practice.

<=== Episode Fourteen: I wrote your story. It’s only fair I tell you mine.

Episode Sixteen: That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories. ===>​

​

The Broken Gates
Episode Fifteen: I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you.

---

Whetu Kealoha
Creation
Detroit, Michigan


Very slowly, Whetu reached out and took the clothing offered to her. It was nothing remarkable: just a red tube top.

“Go on. I’m waiting.” Said a harsh voice.

Kailani Kalili had infiltrated the hideout used by Whetu and her teammates. Nobody knew exactly when she had gotten inside, or how she found it, but the insane Partogan was now holding four Creations at gunpoint. Moka, Dak, and Kiri were all staring at the plasma pistol in Kailani’s hand.

No one was certain if Kailani’s weapon was functional. It was waterlogged thanks to the Uicse’s river attack, and the author had never written a scene in which a plasma weapon suffered water damage, so nobody knew what would happen if Kailani pulled the trigger.

Her arms shaking, Whetu pulled the tube-top over her head and down over her torso.

“There you go, you look like less of a slut now.” Kailani said, swaying dangerously on her feet. “Seriously, way-too, you’re living proof of the writer being so pitifully lonely.”

“My name is pronounced veh-too.” Whetu said in a low, threatening voice. “I did what you asked, I put on a top. Now are you going to lower that gun or what?”

“Holy fucking Sajuuk, I wish I could see your face.” Kailani laughed. “You sound so pissed off.”

Moka did a double-take, looking from Kailani to the ceiling light. The room was fully illuminated. There was no reason for anyone’s face to be hidden from view.

“Put the gun down Kalili.” Dak said in a slow tone. “It’s not us you’re angry at.”

“Well, what do you know!? This guy’s got it right.” Kailani laughed. “I’m not angry at any of you faceless freaks. I’m angry at the guy who took away my happiness! And I don’t see him here.”

“We can bring you to him.” Kiri said; hands still raised. “Just put the gun down and let’s talk about it.”

“Yeah, let’s talk.” Moka added.

Moka, Kiri, and Dak were trying to distract Kailani, to make her look away from Whetu and create an opening for Whetu to use Psionics without being shot. Kailani did not take the bait. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Whetu’s chest, roughly at the point where she was aiming her pistol.

“Not until your friend gets here.” Kailani hissed.

So, the standoff continued. For several tense minutes, Whetu stared into Kailani’s eyes, reaching out with telepathic energy. What Whetu found frightened her.

Kailani Kalili was insane.

At some point during her own story, Kailani had been subjected to a telepathic assault that left her mind permanently damaged. Many Psionic techniques were going to be useless against Kailani, as her mind was already broken.

“And here they come.” Dak breathed out the corner of his mouth.

Two people walked up the porch and opened the front door.

“What the hell have you guys been doing?” Akira Robinson’s voice echoed out of the entryway and into the rest of the house. “You do know that Uicse’s been calling for help for the past half-hour, right?”

Akira and Tenna walked headlong into the standoff. Kailani turned on the spot, intending to point her weapon at Akira.

Whetu, Akira, and Tenna all reacted instinctively, blasting Kailani with Psionic attacks. The telekinetic force rushing through the building was so intense that the ceiling cracked, sending dust down the assembled group below. All of the lights went out, and moments later, Kailani stepped forward.

She was completely unharmed.

Whetu gasped in fright as Kailani pressed the barrel of her plasma pistol into Akira’s chest.

“I can see the Ark Angel patch on your vest.” Kailani said. “You must be Akira Robinson. Let’s take a walk, you and me.”

…

---

Akira Robinson
Creation
Detroit, Michigan


Akira and Kailani left the safehouse together, the latter pressing her gun into the former’s back. The odd couple walked through the run-down neighborhood for about a minute.

“Where are we going?” Akira asked as soon as she was clear of the safehouse.

“You’re going to use that Return Beacon.” Kailani said. “And you’re gonna take me to your boss.”

“That’s…” Akira started to speak, but something odd happened.

She wanted to say “That’s a terrible idea.” But instead, Akira actually said:

“That’s a wonderful idea. My master can put your mind right in an instant.”

She started to reach for the Return Beacon in her vest pocket. At the same time, a tiny voice spoke in the back of her mind.

Why are we doing this? Malum’s gonna brainwash her.

An authoritative voice in Akira’s head reminded her that “being immersed in Malum’s power” was a good thing.

No it’s not. The tiny voice replied. I’m under Mind Control right now.

The authoritative voice reminded Akira that she was in love with Malum Ralpakin. The tiny voice quickly responded:

In the same way I was in love with Rafi Bakir? He took advantage of me while I was drugged. He raped me. I thought I loved him. I defended Rafi, I mourned his death. What makes Malum different from Rafi?

It was as though a barrier in Akira’s mind was suddenly knocked down. Memories of Rafi Bakir, a man from her backstory, came flooding into the forefront of her mind. Akira remembered everything from those early days, the promise she made to her older sister, her quest to remake history and create the “perfect future.”

Akira had broken free from Mind Control.

The act of regaining control had caused Akira to stop moving. Kailani let out an angry scoffing sound and tapped the back of Akira’s head with her gun.

“We goin’ to see Ralpakin or what?” Kailani said.

“Yes…” Akira replied, “Yes we are.”

As Akira pulled the trigger on the Return Beacon, her Psionic aura was fully restored. For the first time since her initial encounter with Malum Ralpakin, Akira was fully in control of herself.

…

---

Malum Ralpakin
Creation
200 meters beneath Rattia City, Alaria


Malum Ralpakin was hiding in a place where the author would have trouble finding him. He was inside the world of one of Blake Robinson’s older books, a comedy called Grand Theft Stellaris.

The Great Khan’s hideout was in the bow section of an old starship buried underneath a city on an alien planet. The Alari people above knew a space pirate called Vaki D’Jir had buried her treasure beneath their city, but only certain aristocrats knew the exact location, and Malum had already brought them onto his side.

In fact one of those aristocrats was at his side right now…

Aris D’Kara, mother of protagonist Cali D’Kara, entered the Harem chamber cautiously, tiptoeing around the many alien women who were busy pampering the Great Khan.

Malum sat up in his bed as Aris approached.

“You come with news… news of an unexpected visit.” Malum said.

“Yes, master.” Aris replied. “Akira Robinson has just come through the Broken Gate with a stranger. She demands to see you.”

“Very well.” Malum said. “I’m certain it is an unscheduled update on the construction of the Stockholm Gate. This should not take long.”

…

Malum entered his throne room, flanked by advisors and concubines. Akira Robinson was already there, Kailani was pointing a plasma pistol at Akira’s head while several courtiers and a few armed guards looked on in alarm.

“You are simultaneously brave and foolish.” Malum said. He stood next to his throne, resting one arm on the decorative headrest. “You know I cannot give you what you seek. It would destroy you.”

Malum could see Kailani’s deepest desire. It played on repeat in the forefront of her mind. She wanted to return to the moment where her body and mind were assimilated by the Beast; a cosmic nightmare monster that appeared in one of Blake’s oldest books.

“I never felt bliss like that before.” Kailani seethed. “You took it away from me! I’ll take everything from you!”

Malum’s face twitched.

At once, Kailani dropped her pistol and fell to her knees. She clutched at her head with both hands and screamed!

Using only the faintest trace of his own Psionic power, Malum was crushing Kailani’s head in a telekinetic vice.

“You are damaged beyond repair.” Malum said. “Perhaps you could have been saved, but you have interfered in my work and done irreversible harm. For that I cannot forgive you.”

Malum balled up his hand into a fist and bared his teeth. Kailani let out a sickening gurgle and collapsed to the floor. She was dead.

“Get that out of here.” Malum seethed.

A group of servants moved forward, but were stopped by Akira’s voice.

“Actually… I wanted to ask you about your work… Ralpakin.”

A shimmering aura of Psionic energy had enveloped Akira. Malum glanced at her and quickly realized she had broken free of his control for the third time.

“This is not a conversation to have in the presence of those not concerned with it.” Malum replied.

He stepped away from the throne, starting to gather up his own powers. It was clear that Akira was steeling herself for a fight. Many of the courtiers and concubines were now cautiously making their way to the exits.

“Fascinating.” Malum said. “I’ve never encountered someone who rejected my love so… consistently.”

“Things work differently in my world.” Akira replied. “That includes Psionics. Might want to factor that into your whole ‘conquer the multiverse’ plan… or have you moved on from that?”

A wave of anger surged through the Great Khan.

“I am not a conqueror. I am a liberator. I am the supreme force of the multiverse! I am creation. I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you.”

“You’re like me.” Akira spat. “Or rather, you’re like how I used to be. Holy Jericho… I tried to do the same thing as you. No wonder Blake wrote me as a villain! I’m just as bad as you!”

Bright blue Soulfire ignited in Akira’s hands. She held the supernatural flames aloft, ready to strike out against Malum. Several people around the throne room gasped in fright. When Malum took a step toward Akira, the floor splintered and cracked beneath his feet.

“Your life is forfeit, Akira Robinson.” Malum growled.

“Sounds better than being in bed with you.” Akira said.

Malum conjured a Psionic Lance and hurled it toward Akira. It struck an invisible barrier and flickered out of existence. A moment later, Akira pointed her palm up and vented a cone of Soulfire into the ceiling. In seconds, the throne room was enveloped in an inferno.

Malum realized that Akira was not trying to kill him. She was attempting to destroy the buried starship and everyone inside. Malum refocused on Akira, gathering up his telepathic energies for another strike.

Akira knelt down and slammed one of her hands on the cold metal floor. Cold and harsh Psionic energy funneled out of Akira’s body, through the floor, and into the corpse of Kailani Kalili.

“What is this madness!?” Malum shouted.

Akira laughed, then replied in a singsong tone.

“Ha! Are you kidding me? Reanimation really isn’t a Psionic power in your world!? Well then, have fun!”

Akira turned around and started running toward the Broken Gate. Malum tried to follow, but the zombified corpse of Kailani threw itself into his path.

Malum blasted the zombie with Soulfire, but the corpse felt no pain. Ignoring the blue flames, the zombie stumbled forward and grabbed onto his arm.

“That’s enough!” Malum shouted.

Using telekinesis, he tore Kailani’s body into many small, bloody pieces. At the same time, part of the ceiling collapsed as Akira’s Soulfire continued tearing through the room.

“ROBINSON!” Malum shouted, running full-tilt into the hallway.

Malum knew the way to reach the Gate Chamber. He reached it in seconds, just in time to see Akira disappearing through the ring-shaped gate. Filling his mind with thoughts about Stockholm, Malum tried to follow Akira through the gate.

As soon as he reached the perimeter, Malum was wracked with overwhelming pain! The left side of his body was covered in Soulfire scars; terrible injuries caused by Malum’s son, Trig Shepminter during a battle long past. As Malum attempted to cross the gate, these scars seemed to catch fire once again, burning with such intensity that Malum was blinded by the pain.

He collapsed in front of the Broken Gate and roared:

“ROBINSON!!”

<=== Episode Fourteen: I wrote your story. It’s only fair I tell you mine.

Episode Sixteen: That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

Double Announcement!

This was going to be the post where I announce my annual summer Hiatus. (US Army National Guard doing its thing again) But then @HistoryDude placed a wrench in the works by tossing the Fan of the Week AwAARd at me while my back was turned. So now, instead of one special pre-departure post... you're getting two! As always, the next chapter of The Broken Gates will be posted ahead of schedule to mark the occasion... but it was scheduled to go up on Friday and I have not done any of the voiceover/video editing/uploading yet. Optimistically, I think I can get Chapter 16 up by Thursday morning.

But one extra chapter isn't enough. Not when I'm about to vanish for two weeks. So here's the plan: Tonight, I'm going to share an announcement post that I was saving for later... that way I can buy myself some extra time to put the finishing touches on Chapter 16 and post it at least one day earlier than intended.

So... please allow me to share a special post with you a little earlier than planned:

---

We are halfway through The Broken Gates! Thank you all so much for reading this strange and experimental story so far. This story has worked my brain so hard that writing it can be exhausting. Fun... but exhausting. Now that I'm halfway through the current story, that means (by my own personal rules) I can start writing my next story.

I've decided that after the mind-bending madness of The Broken Gates, I want to go back into my comfort zone for a little while. My next story will be extremely reminiscent of my older tales: Beautiful young woman embarks on a sci-fi adventure aboard a spaceship. Lighthearted comedy and sexually charged situations scattered throughout.

To that end, allow me to announce my next Stellaris story:

Angel of War
Voyage of the Starship Marathon
​

Spoiler: Technical and Historical Bible

Angel of War: Voyage of the Starship Marathon

TECHNICAL AND HISTORICAL BIBLE​

Table of Contents:

1. Galactic Map
2. Recent Galactic History
3. The Nebelkrieg (Nebula War)
4. Factions of the Nebelkrieg – Coalition
5. Factions of the Nebelkrieg – Fellowship
6. Factions of the Nebelkrieg – Augments
7. Technical Breakdown: [Marathon]
8. Dossier: [Ino Esperanta]

PART 1: Galactic Map

PART 2: Recent Galactic History:

1. Founding of the Trinary Coalition
   • The Commonwealth of Earth, Republican Cyandite Holdings, and Kodranite Confederation ratified the Interstellar Mutual Defense Treaty in 2155, agreeing to cooperate with each other in conflicts against ancient mining drones and space ameobas, both of which were widespread in the region at the time.
2. The Galactic Community
   • The Galactic Community was established by the Coalition, Glebsig Foundation, Astral Fellowship, Theian Administation, and Empire of Axpentl to facilitate negotiations about the creation of interstellar laws. The first meeting of the Galactic Senate occurred in 2212.
3. Axpentl-Coalition Border dispute
   • Coalition member-state Kodranite Confederation laid claim to 21 Axpentl systems over 15 years as relations continued to deteriorate. Cross-border skirmishes eventually led to all Coalition members closing their borders to the Empire.
4. Planetary Revolts in the Outer Limb
   • On the western side of the galaxy, the Confederacy of Qa-Adash and Fex’Klanga Empire were both rocked by multiple planetary rebellions. Both empires fragmented into multiple smaller states that have been warring with each other for the past 20 years.
5. Discovery of the Tiyana Vek Wormhole
   • A Human science vessel entered the Tiyana Vek star system intending to study the Tiyanki Homeworld. Instead found a wormhole leading to a region of space controlled by the Augmented Cevantian Administration.
6. Beginning of Coalition-Augment relations
   • The Earth Commonweath government expressed a strong desire to build friendly relations with the Augments, to ensure the far end of the Tiyana Wormhole was secured against any foe that could threaten Earth.
7. The Manifesti Revolution
   • A nonsensical political movement briefly paralyzes the Parliament of Earth. While the Manifestis never seized power, they left a lasting legacy on the art world and Coalition culture.
8. The Axpentl Border War
   • Skirmishes across the disputed border erupted into a shooting war (primarily led by the Kodranite Confederation) in the year 2218. This was Humanity’s first major interstellar war. All of the combat in this war occurred in space, with actual combatants never seeing each other face-to-face. Many of the lessons learned from this conflict would be applied during the Nebelkrieg ten years later.
9. Fellowship Invasion and Partition of Qix’Lufran
   • While the Coalition was distracted fighting the Empire, the Desstican Astral Fellowship set off on a long-running series of conquests. Starting in 2214, the Fellowship launched an invasion of the Alliance of Qix’Lufran, cutting the county in half and vassalizing the northern rump state. This pattern would repeat as the Fellowship attacked its neighbors one at a time and carving out new vassals and tributary-states.
10. Continued Growth of the Coalition-Augment Friendship
    • Alarmed by the Fellowship’s conquests, Coalition diplomats began aggressively pursuing stronger relationships with the Augmented Cevantians. On the homefront, local governments launched an aggressive propaganda campaign in the theocratic Cyandite Holdings to prepare citizens for friendship with cybernetic people.
11. Augment Association with the Coalition
    • In 2224, the Augmented Cevantian Administration accepted association status with the Trinary Coalition, publicly signaling its intent to join the Coalition in the future. This action prompted angry rhetoric from the Astral Fellowship, who insisted that the Weeping Ghost Nebula (the region of space Augments call home) lies entirely within the Desstican sphere of influence and that the Coalition has no right to operate there.
12. Augments on Earth and the Blade of the Huntress
    • In 2225, following the negotiation of a Migration Treaty, Humans and Augments began to pass freely through the Tiyana Wormhole to settle on each other’s worlds. A period of mutual exploration took place that climaxed with the discovery of the Blade of the Huntress by a visiting Augment scientist. The Blade is now on display at the Human Parliament Building in Beijing.
13. Munytha Thoso takes over Fellowship, announces Cosmic Doctrine
    • In the final weeks of 2225, the Desstican Astral Fellowship announced the selection of a new First Ascendant. Munytha Thoso was a high-ranking member of the Dimensional Covenant, a religious organization that had subsumed all aspects of national government in Desstican space. First Ascendant Thoso announced a new doctrine that, among other things, proclaimed the Weeping Ghost Nebula and its Wormhole exit to be divine objects. He also denounced the use of cybernetics, artificial intelligence, and the concept of cybernetic ascension entirely; using genocidal language while describing the Augmented Cevantian people.
14. Fellowship Invades Cevasia
    • The Desstican Astral Fellowship launched a military invasion of the Weeping Ghost Nebula in December 2226, overran Cevasia, and established a tributary government to rule the Augments living in the region. The Coalition immediately began to demand the Fellowship’s withdrawal from the nebula. Human covert operatives simultaneously started to seek out a way to deny access to the Tiyana Wormhole, as the wormhole allows access to a vulnerable region of Human territory.
15. Nebelkrieg begins
    • Renowned Paragon Gia’Zumon delivered an impassioned speech to Coalition Congress on January 1, 2227, reminding her colleagues that the time for talk had passed. Congress unanimously voted to declare war against the Desstican Astral Fellowship, with the explicit goal of ejecting the invaders from the Weeping Ghost Nebula and liberating the Augmented people before any genocidal action could occur. During a subsequent press conference, the Coalition Secretary-General (a German-born Human) gave the war its name: War in the Nebula. Nebelkrieg.

PART 3: The Nebelkrieg (Nebula War)

The war draws its name from the region where the conflict takes place. The Weeping Ghost Nebula is a stellar nursery where a cluster of newly-formed stars can be found. The region contains deposits of the strategic resource Zro, as well as Astral Threads and the all-important exit point of the Tiyana Wormhole. Cevasia, the Augment Homeworld, can also be found here.

Dense gasses and dust veins blown by stellar wind interfere with starship sensors, making navigation in the nebula very difficult. Using sensors to detect enemy vessels is extremely difficult here.

PART 4: The Coalition (BLUFOR)

The Trinary Coalition is a Martial Alliance, founded by the Sol, Afrmkye, and Fulaz star systems in the mid 2150’s. The purpose of the alliance was to allow the fledgling star nations to defend themselves and each other against space amoebas and ancient mining drones, both of which were a scourge during this time. The alliance has since reworked itself to focus on defending against larger star nations.

The Coalition government consists of a Congress (to write laws) and an executive in the form of the Secretary-General. (to execute those laws) The Presidency of the Coalition rotates from one member to the next. The current President is the Earth Commonwealth.

The Coalition operates its own military forces, to which the member states can contribute their own starships and soldiers. The President commands coalition forces. Meritocracy is a crucial tenant of the Coalition. Promotion and advancement are completely dependent on field-proven skills and aptitude tests (both written and physical exams are administered yearly)

PART 5: The Astral Fellowship (OPFOR)

The Desstican Astral Fellowship is a highly authoritarian theocratic state centered around the Dimensional Covenant: the worship of Astral Scars. (a stellar phenomena that is the subject of intense scientific study) Under the dictatorial leadership of the First Ascendant, the Fellowship is made up of the Dessticans, a Necrophage race that seeks out pre-FTL people and pre-sapient lifeforms and uses them in sacrificial ceremonies at the Chamber of Ascension on Dekron. (the Desstican Homeworld)

The Astral Fellowship is considered an enemy of the Coalition due to their extremely frequent genocidal actions including (but not limited to) mass abduction, forced mass relocation, and mass sentient sacrifice. The Coalition fears the day when the Fellowship gains access to the Tiyana Wormhole, as this would make it possible for the Fellowship to attack Coalition territory from two directions simultaneously.

PART 6: The Augments (INDFOR)

The Augmented Cevantian Administration is the government ruling over the Weeping Ghost Nebula. The Cevantian people are bipedal Humanoids. At some point in their distant past, before first contact with the Coalition, the Cevantian people underwent an event they call “the Cybernetic Revolution.” Their civilization as a whole developed a powerfully strong interest in Cybernetic Ascension. Even before achieving spaceflight, the Cevantians had already started down the long and arduous process of transforming themselves into Synthetic lifeforms, to shed the limitations imposed by their imperfect organic bodies.

All Cevantians are taught to understand that the process of Ascension will be very long and challenging, and that it will take several dozen generations to be fully completed. However, the fusion of the “exalted body and holy cybernetics” is a divine outcome that will be worth the time and effort. To the Cevantians, augmenting their own bodies with cybernetic technology is a deeply religious experience to be celebrated. Ritualistic implants are given to people at all ages, from small children to the elderly.

In the modern day, the Cevantians strongly prefer to be called “Augments,” a name that reflects their halfway status in the Ascension process. Very few Augments exist outside of the Weeping Ghost Nebula. Prejudice and discrimination against Cybernetic and Synthetic lifeforms is widespread across the galaxy, and the Augments know they have no friends outside of the Coalition.

Before the 2226 Invasion, the leaders of the Desstican Astral Fellowship publicly announced and discussed their plans to carry out genocidal action against the Augments. Now that the Fellowship’s invasion of Cevasia has actually occurred, such action is considered inevitable.



PART 7: Technical Breakdown (The UNS Marathon)

The UNS Marathon (CSN-116) is the Hero Ship of the story. She is the lead ship of the “Azrael-Improved” class of Battleship in the Coalition Navy. The Azrael has been a mainstay in the Coalition Navy for 50 years. The Azrael-Improved (or Azrael-i) for short, is an overhauled version of the template, incorporating hundreds of improvements made necessary by the Axpentl Border War.

Marathon was built by Imperial Arsenal – Space Division, a modern-day continuation of the shipbuilding company used by the Ottoman Empire. Construction took place at Barnard’s Star Station and took 272 days. The vessel is currently undergoing space trials at Alpha Hydri. When launched, the Commonwealth Parliament of Earth registered the Marathon under the British flag, since the United Kingdom provided the majority of the funding the construction required. The Russian Aircraft Corporation Mikoyan (also known as “MiG”) won the contract to provide the Marathon with her compliment of Starfighters.

The Marathon is a dedicated Command Ship. She carries all of the equipment needed to provide command, control, communications, computers, and intelligence (C4I) to Coalition fleets in the AO. Once she completes space trials and is accepted into service, the Marathon will replace her aging sistership Basilisk as the Flagship of Strike Force Cerberus.

The vessel carries five Starfighter squadrons, with each squadron consisting of eighteen MiG-95 Space Superiority Fighters. For self-defense, the Marathon is armed with four Coilgun kinetic batteries and four flak batteries. Marathon is protected by three layers of Ceramo-Metal Armor and three layers of Deflector shields. A fusion reactor provides electric power.

Marathon carries a highly experimental cloaking device, which is standard on all Azrael-i vessels. Under normal circumstances, cloaking a Battleship is considered to be impossible. The Coalition is the only faction known to have tried this. The experimental cloaking generator is fueled with Dark Matter, and while the field it produces is highly unstable, it does render the Marathon undetectable to most conventional sensors. This tactical advantage comes at the cost of substantially reduced sublight speed and shield effectiveness. Field tests performed by Coalition reconnaissance ships suggest the cloaking device is much more effective while operating inside a nebula.

The Marathon requires a crew of 3,500 to operate, plus an additional 290 support staff for the MiG-95 fighter squadrons.

Vacancies in the command staff are still being filled, although a promising young person may have been found for the role of Tactical Officer:



FINAL PART: Ino Esperanta

Ino Esperanta will be the main protagonist of this story.

She is a 23-year-old Argentine woman born and raised in the city of Ushuaia. Both of Ino’s parents are intensely loyal members of a political movement called the “Esperantists” who seek to install the constructed language “Esperanto” as the official language of the Coalition.

The Esperanta family is stricken by a severe case of Golden Child Syndrome. Ino’s younger brother Venka is heavily favored by Ino’s parents and can do no wrong in their eyes. Ino is expected to sacrifice her own happiness and achievements for her brother’s benefit, she must also be the scapegoat whenever he is accused of wrongdoing.

As Ino grew older, she started to resent her family. The last straw was when she was ordered to let her brother hog the spotlight during her own High School graduation party. Ino applied to the University of Buenos Aires, (3000 kilometers away from home) and began to study for a degree in Investigative Journalism, hoping that she could find work that would take her very far away from Ushuaia.

When the University notified Ino that she was going to graduate, a duplicate notification was sent to her parents. Both Mr. and Mrs. Esperanta showed up in Buenos Aires with Venka at their side, demanding to speak with Ino about having her brother follow her into the world of journalism.

Desperate to evade her family, Ino visited a nearby Coalition recruiting center and applied for a job in the Coalition Navy, specifically asking for a post on a starship.

After taking the written and physical aptitude exams, Ino was offered a job in Coalition Military Intelligence, setting the events of this story into motion…

*Note: I desperately wanted to name this story Battle Angel. But I recently found out that title is taken. ​

 

[Macavity116]

Happy Friday Wednesday dear readers! This chapter is much longer than usual, and longtime readers might be able to guess why. Starting tomorrow Saturday I'll be taking a two-week Hiatus to go up north and do annual training with the National Guard. While I might be rolling around the forums leaving comments, there will be no new chapters of The Broken Gates from June 1 until June 15.

Also, I want to offer special thanks to @Chac1, @Idhrendur, and @jak7139 for their comments on the big Angel of War reveal. I'm glad to learn there is interest in the new story.

To make up for my absence, I've loaded this chapter with extra content, ballooning its length to 25 minutes! Also, I have some artwork to share.

Special thanks to Twitter user Aceus (@Aceussss) for creating this cool artwork of Aisling!

Spoiler: Aisling in the Forest

Longtime readers may find the artstyle familiar, and that's no coincidence! Aceus (formerly known as ace_pade) was the creator of three artworks used in The Stormbreakers. Aceus was one of the first artists I connected with during my 2021 fanart/commission blitz and it was such fun to work with them again. Aceus is an animation student and freelance illustrator based in the Philippines. If you ever want to commission artwork, I'd recommend this guy. (Aceus on Artstation.com)

<=== Episode Fifteen: I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you.

Episode Sixteen: I don't want to save your life. ===>​

​

The Broken Gates
Episode Sixteen: That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories.

---

Marisol Reyes
Creator
International Airspace, Atlantic Ocean


Marisol continued to braid Aisling’s hair as she told her own story:

“So, I was born in Manila, the biggest city of the Philippines… that’s an island country far away from here.”

“An island country like Ireland?” Aisling asked.

“My country is made up of about seven thousand islands all under one flag.” Marisol replied with a chuckle.

“Your king must be very powerful.” Aisling sounded awed.

Marisol shook her head, smiling. Then she went on.

“My parents were very religious. They prayed to the Virgin Mary to bless them with a child, and they got lucky when Momma got pregnant with me. I was told the story afterward, but my first day on Earth was a hard one.”

“What do you mean?” Aisling asked.

“When I was born… something went wrong.” Marisol explained. “Momma never said if the problem was with her or with me, but the only thing we know for sure is that as soon as my life began… I died.”

“You died!?” Aisling repeated, aghast.

Marisol nodded.

“Yeah.” She said. “Momma said I didn’t cry when I was born… I never even got to take my first breath, I just started turning blue instead. So my parents began to pray. At the same time, one of the doctors started working on me. Momma said they spent about ninety seconds trying to make me breathe, and well…”

Marisol allowed herself to laugh.

“Something they did must have worked, because here I am talking to you. Momma said it was a miracle from God, that I was a miracle from God.”

“It is a miracle.” Aisling said. “A real one!”

Marisol used her favorite red hair tie to hold Aisling’s braid in place.

“I was the only one who had trouble.” Marisol said. “My sister Mariposa and little brother Gabriel didn’t give Momma any trouble. I guess they felt she’d gone through enough. She loves all of us, but sometimes I catch her thanking God for letting me stay.”

“And your father?” Aisling pressed.

“My father was a soldier in the Philippine Army. President Estrada declared an ‘all-out-war’ against the Islamist rebels in the south, so my father went off to fight. He was killed when I was still very young. My brother Gabriel was a baby. Mariposa and I were just old enough to understand he was never coming home.

“Momma suddenly had to care for three children by herself. She had a little bit of money coming in from family members who moved to America, but it wasn’t enough. She called around to her friends and she was able to get her old job back, at the place she worked before she had me… this big fancy hotel on Roxas Boulevard, right on the water’s edge. She was one of the managers. Even then, we just barely scraped by, living on the edge of the slums.”

Marisol paused as the plane hit some mild turbulence, then resumed:

“Then, when I was eleven years old, my sister and I were playing in a park when the Islamist rebels attacked. They blew up a bus and killed a lot of people closeby to where we were. I didn’t know what to do… but Mariposa kept looking up at me and asking… it was like she thought I would already know the right thing to do. I just took her by the hand and brought her home. I didn’t want Mariposa to see me panicking, so I had to just do something.

“When we got home, Momma praised me. She said I was my sister’s guardian angel, that God let me stay on Earth so I could care for my family. I suddenly felt so… responsible for everything and everyone. I knew I had to start bringing in money for the household.”

“What did you do?” Aisling asked.

“Well, I was twelve years old.” Marisol giggled. “There was very little I could do. I lived in Manila, the one place in the country where child labor laws are actually enforced! I got a weekend gig working as something like a maid. I’d go over to people’s houses and clean up their messes. Did that for a couple of years. At the same time, I found something I could do at school… but looking back on it… I don’t feel good about it.”

“Why?”

“Because it grosses me out when I think about it as an adult.” Marisol replied. “I heard a rumor at school that one of the girls was making money on the side by selling kisses. Find a secret spot between classes; kiss a boy for cash. I did it for a couple years. Kissed maybe a hundred boys and took about sixty thousand Pesos home. I thought I was a genius. I made up a whole stupid pricing scheme. Charged extra to kiss like we were dating, there was a groping fee, and if someone wanted me to be their girlfriend for a day, I cleaned out their wallet. I thought I was saving my family and having fun at the same time… but then… then I got sick.”

Marisol sighed.

“There was some illness going around the school. I must have kissed at least ten boys who were already sick, so I got super sick. Like, I was messed up for weeks. Had to stay in bed, couldn’t eat, could barely drink water. Of course, the whole time Momma was asking how I got this way… but things got bad when I lost my maid job. I was too sick to work, so all of the clients fired me. Then Momma wouldn’t stop asking me what I did to get so sick. So, I told her about the kissing business.”

Marisol felt goosebumps rising on her arms as she re-told this part of the story. It was a very unpleasant memory.

“I thought Momma was gonna kill me.” Marisol admitted. “That’s the only time she ever beat me… and she used her nicest umbrella for it, too. Still hurts when I think about it.”

Aisling turned around and hugged Marisol very tightly. She felt soft and warm, as though Marisol was cuddling a Saint Bernard.

“What happened after that?” Aisling asked.

“After I got better, Momma made me transfer schools, and I paid for it by getting a job at the same hotel as her. Mariposa came along too, since I was supposed to be setting a good example for her.”

“Did you?”

“Kind of. I mean, I tried.” Marisol answered. “Mariposa got arrested once for fighting with a hotel guest, and then Momma got arrested for beating up a drunk guy who mistook our apartment for the brothel. The police let her go and arrested the guy when they saw the bruises he left on my arm, but we still lost all of our savings in a couple of months. Things got a little better after I turned 18, though.

“One of the other hotel managers liked my ‘customer service voice’ and told me about one of his friends who worked for the airport. He got me a job interview because he owed us a favor. Asiana liked what they saw and hired me. Six weeks of training later, I got my passport and was on a plane to America.”

“So then how did you meet Blake?” Aisling asked.

“Well, not all of my time as a Flight Attendant is spent in the air. I do have a lot of downtime, sitting in the airports or hotels waiting for something or someone. I picked up a couple hobbies to pass the time. Started skateboarding around the courtyards and parks in the daytime. At night, I’d go online and read fanfiction about all of the cartoons and computer games I knew as a kid. For my 21st birthday, I bought myself a gaming laptop and started playing again.

“I stumbled onto Blake’s stories while I was looking for a sci-fi fanfic to read. Gobbled up The Stormbreakers in two days and then binge-read the rest of the series over a few weeks. Then, one day while I was reading Year of Hell, Blake posted a reminder about how he once gave permission for people to write fanfics about his characters.”

Aisling looked confused.

“Wait, hold on. Blake was letting people write their own stories using his characters?” She said.

“Yup.” Marisol replied. “I was all nervous and anxious, so I sent Blake a message asking permission, just to make sure it was okay. He said yes… so I went off and wrote my own story with his Creations.”

“What did you write?” Aisling asked.

“Well…” Marisol said, “I always liked that scene in The Stormbreakers where Blake and Chihiro decided to elope in the desert. I… I uh…”

Marisol blushed. Confessing to this was embarrassing. A voice spoke over her shoulder.

“She wrote an extended ending for the love scene.” Blake explained, causing Marisol to jump with surprise.

“How long were you there!?” Marisol gasped.

“Since the part where your sister got arrested.” Blake said. “We were getting curious.”

Marisol looked over the top her seat and noticed that all of the creations were now paying attention to her story, plus Herten and Bella and a few members of Cali’s team.

“Honestly, after everything that’s happened in the past few days, I never would have guessed that was your life story.” Varian admitted.

Marisol turned her attention back to Aisling.

“Well, it’s just like when you’re writing a story. Backgrounds don’t define people. A backstory is just the first block everything else is built on, it’s where you start out as. It’s not who you are forever. Look at yourselves. Kanti, you were a programmer building a Psionic computer system, and by the end of your story, you were the Galactic Custodian and one of the Cape Canaveral Rescuers.”

“I’m going to be Galactic Custodian!?” Kanti repeated, sounding pleased.

“Trig the girl-crazy high school student takes down the most dangerous starship in the Galaxy and wounds the Great Khan.” Marisol continued, “Sebakhira helps defeat Akira Robinson twice, even though she’s just a Psionic teacher. You all grew and developed in the face of a challenge, of adventure. That’s, like, kinda the whole point of stories.”

Emily ran her fingers through Aisling’s braided hair, admiring Marisol’s handiwork.

“And, Aisling… Emily… if Blake gives the two of you more pagetime, then I’m sure you’d grow into different people as well.”

Emily withdrew her hand and folded her arms, scrunching up her face as she thought.

“Could it be?” Emily mused. “That you and Blake have changed as well?”

Marisol looked at Blake, who shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.” Blake replied. “I mean, do I seem like the same guy who danced with you at the Winter Star Festival?”

Emily hesitated.

“Similar…” she said slowly… “but now that I really think about it… you’re also different.”

“Blake and Marisol are right.” Cali said. “I’m living proof of that. If you took me out of the real world and put me back into Year of Hell right now, none of my friends would recognize me. And maybe that’s part of the reason why Malum is doing all of this.”

Marisol snapped her fingers and pointed at Blake.

“Did we make any changes to Malum before he made his first appearance in Song of the Solitaire?” She asked.

“Not really.” Blake replied. “He’s pretty identical to what I wrote in my worldbuilding notes. His backstory is recited verbatim in one chapter in the second act.”

“That’s it.” Cali said. “Malum did not grow or change in his own story. He’s static. I wonder if we can use that against him somehow?”

“I bet we can.” Marisol concluded. “That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories. And the same is probably true for the other Creations who’ve sided with him. Maybe we can pull his allies away… over to our side. Then he’d be alone.”

Sebakhira clapped her paws in delight.

“She’s right! If we can get Malum alone, away from his allies, he will be most vulnerable. Have any of you read Blake’s other stories?”

“Skimmed a bit.” Trig admitted.

“I’ve only read my own.” Mina said.

“I’m a slow reader.” Varian confessed.

Sebakhira waved her paw impatiently.

“In nearly all of Blake’s stories, there is a common thread that appears during the climax.” She said. “The hero… or more frequently, the heroine does not stand alone against her foes. She is always backed up by friends and allies while the enemy stands in isolation.”

“You are not alone.” Blake recited. “When I was younger, I wanted to make those words the central theme of the Stormbreaker Universe. Didn’t work out that way, but it’s nice that someone remembered.”

“You are not alone.” Marisol repeated. “That’s gotta be how we beat Malum.”


…

---

Malum Ralpakin
Creation
200 meters beneath Rattia City, Alaria


The starship Blind Fury was wrecked. It would no longer be able to serve as Malum’s hideout. Already, Alari Gendarmes were digging on the surface, attempting to investigate the cause of a disturbance that rattled the city.

For several hours, Malum’s entourage waited outside of the Gate Chamber. He was locked in the room alone with the Broken Gate. The ring-shaped structure hummed rhythmically as Malum performed a ritual that blended Psionics and cybernetic technology.

One by one, Malum’s operatives passed through the Gate, departing the real world and rejoining their master.

Kiri Ranginui, Whetu Kealoha, Uisce, Tenna Annora, Cassandra Espinosa, Dak J’Bassim and his sister Moka all sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting for Malum’s next move.

At his telepathic direction, Cassandra ordered her nanites to interact with the Gate, making fine adjustments to the Vortex Portal contained within.

Malum stood in front of the gate, two objects clenched in his hands. In his right hand, he held the stolen copy of My Father’s War. In his left, Malum carried the Vultaum Reality Perforator, a spherical object that transcended the Fourth Wall, making all of these events possible.

Malum held the Reality Perforator in front of him, keeping it raised in the center of the ring-shaped threshold. With his free hand, Malum thumbed through the book.

No one dared ask about Akira. They all seemed to know, and they all loved Malum even more for his show of strength in the face of betrayal.

“It is something I overlooked.” Malum said aloud. “Something I should have seen before. The author slowly changed and remade the art of Psionics over the course of an eleven-book series. The powers I wield are far weaker than the power used by characters in The Stormbreakers and Faith in Chaos. Yet I am not without my great knowledge… my understanding of the Gift. I will defeat the author, and liberate the multiverse from his influence. It is my destiny.”

“Master, let us go through and finish building the Rotholmen Gate.” Cassandra offered. “We can capture both the author and his editor as they arrive at Stockholm. We’ll have the worldbuilding capabilities of Paradox as well.”

Malum turned his head and replied to her:

“My dear, it will be you and my most trusted allies who use the new Gate to reach Stockholm. Just as it was in my own story, it seems the Gates are reserved only for my followers and allies. I must reach Stockholm another way. Bring forth the prisoner!”

The Gate Chamber door slammed open and three people entered. Two of them were Nagyari soldiers, blue-skinned alien creatures who belonged to the same species as Malum. Between them, they dragged a woman who was gagged and shackled. She was a very tall and skinny human with dirty blonde hair. The only person to recognize her was Tenna, as she was the one to capture her.

It was Erin Bowie, waitress at the bAAR and the very first Creation to cross over into the real world. A look of dark understanding appeared in Erin’s face as she started to scream wordlessly through her gag. Malum gripped the Reality Perforator so tightly that his fingers sank through the outer membrane.

“When Psionics fails, I shall use the author’s narration against him.” Malum said. “My faithful! When I pass through the Gate, you will proceed to Stockholm and finish construction of the Rotholmen Gate as quickly as possible. I shall join you there.”

Then, Malum grabbed Erin by the arm. She was panicking, straining against her bonds. Malum stepped backwards toward the Broken Gate, held up the copy of My Father’s War and began to read aloud:

“Erin Bowie (1992-2027) was employed as a part-time worker at a small establishment in downtown Detroit. Survived the Conquest of Earth and lived under ADVENT rule for twelve years. In 2027, Erin complained to her friends of symptoms consistent with a viral infection; she visited the Detroit Gene Therapy Clinic. Erin never returned. During the 2036 Tribunals, the Global Truth and Reconciliation Commission was able to confirm that Erin was murdered by ADVENT during this ill-fated visit.”

Malum stepped backwards and pulled Erin through the Broken Gate with him. For one short moment, he could see the exit portals of the other five Broken Gates in the network:

Malum’s inner sanctum in the Necropolis, a long dead Tomb World. It still lay in ruins after Malum’s battle with Trig.

The Dreamworld, the very same spiritual realm his son would frequently visit. The Psionic lifeforms who posed as Gods did not detect Malum as he flitted through their space.

The Shroud, an alternate plane of reality built entirely out of Psionic energy. A Lovecraftian nightmare monster briefly acknowledged Malum’s presence, but he was gone before the Eater of Worlds could pounce.

Kinsale Forest in the world of Blake’s newest book: Last Days of the Emerald Isle. Malum could even see the Olinbar soldiers responsible for hijacking it.

And finally, the Island of Rotholmen, on the outskirts of Stockholm in the real world.

Malum bypassed all of these locations, willing himself to follow Erin Bowie through the same narrative loophole that allowed her to appear in the real world.

The noise, the rush, the light, all died away. There was only the sound of cars driving across wet pavement. The flicker of streetlamps.

Malum Ralpakin and Erin Bowie were standing on a busy Detroit avenue. Tucked away between art deco facades of bigger and better things was a quaint, three-story brick building. The second and third floors are covered in windows, each a little portrait into the lives of the folks living behind them. The first floor, though, has only a single oaken door behind a wrought-iron security grate.

On either side of it hung a myriad of flags. A platypus skeleton on navy blue, an assortment of pride flags, and of course the proud flag of the city itself: flags on flags, watched over by two women: one weeping at what was lost, the other comforting her with what was to come. From the ashes we rise again, she seems to say. A humble sign above the door proclaimed:

Whiskey in the jAAR​

In the dim light of early morning, no one saw exactly where the primal shout of triumph came from, but they all heard it.

Malum rounded on Erin and snapped his fingers. At once, the shackles around her wrists and ankles crumbled into dust. Her gag transmuted into a liquid that ran down her front.

“You…” Malum’s voice shook as he reached out toward her. Erin panicked!

“Please!” She cried out, cowering and begging for her life, hands over her head. “Please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anyone! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Malum seized Erin, lifted her until her eyes were on the same level as his (and her feet were well off the ground) and then declared:

“You have given me everything that I want! I’ve never loved another woman as I loved you!”

And Malum forced Erin to kiss him. She struggled for a moment than then allowed herself to go limp, letting the Great Khan continue until he was satisfied and put her down again. Erin’s eyes darted from the bAAR to Malum and back again. He waved one hand, imparting the smallest fraction of his own Psionic power onto Erin.

“If you truly love me, you won’t tell anyone how I came to be here.”

Stars appeared in Erin’s eyes as she was bewitched.

“Never.” She whispered, as though confiding a secret to a lover.

“Go. Your coworkers have been worried.” Malum said. “Tell them you were hidden and safe. When the time comes, I will call you, and you will come to me.”

“Yes, I will!” Erin said. “I’ll do anything for you!”

She tore her gaze away from Malum with the most extreme reluctance, ran across the street, through the wrought-iron gate, and opened the heavy oak door. She looked back one last time before the door closed.

With a rushing sound like a waterfall, a column of purple and silver light shot down from the sky an enveloped Malum Ralpakin. The Great Khan extended his arms as though to embrace it. He raised one arm, holding the Reality Perforator above his head. Then he completed the Psionic Teleportation and vanished completely.

As the sun rose on the city of Detroit, there was only silence.

<=== Episode Fifteen: I am destruction. And I WILL destroy you.

Episode Sixteen: I don't want to save your life. ===>​

 

[Macavity116]

I'm back! Welcome to the second half of The Broken Gates. Just a couple housekeeping notes before we start:

First: When you get to the part where Marisol hits Blake with the newspaper, I strongly encourage you to picture it happening like this:

Second: If you are watching the video companions to this series on YouTube, please know that your ears are not playing tricks on you. The intro and outro songs have been intentionally reversed, it's my way of letting the audience know that we are at the part of the story where shit hits the fan.

<=== Episode Sixteen: That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories.

Episode Eighteen: This is my story now, and I am the hero.===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Seventeen: I don’t want to save your life.

---

Aisling
Creation
British Airspace


At some point over the Atlantic, people began falling asleep. Marisol walked the length of the plane closing window covers to darken the passenger area, then she dimmed the lights. Sebakhira rolled over onto her side, exposing her furry belly and snoring loudly as she took up a full row of seats.

Aisling wanted to sleep but couldn’t. This airplane was one of the most unnatural places she had ever been to, and everything about it felt wrong. She sat down in the first-class area and started pawing at one of the touchscreens in front of her seat. A blue-and-green shape flickered onto the screen in front of her, causing Aisling to startle.

“Huh? Whazzup?” Bella grumbled.

The CK3 developer was trying to sleep in another first-class booth nearby, but was now looking over at Aisling.

“What’s that?” Aisling asked, pointing at the bright screen.

“That’s a map of the world.” Bella replied. “Look, it actually shows where we are on the planet.”

Bella leaned over and pointed at the small plane-shaped icon.

“We’re over Scotland right now. See that island over there on our right? That’s Ireland. That’s your home.”

Aisling felt her heartbeat quicken.

“We’re close to Ireland!?”

She peered out the window again.

“Other side, fairy girl.” Bella called out.

Aisling scrambled out of her seat and made her way to the other side of the plane. She slammed the window over open and scanned the horizon.

She could barely see a dark smudge far away. The sun was setting over Ireland, its light reflecting off a distant surface, probably Lough Neagh.

How did we come so close to home without me knowing it? Aisling wondered. I should have known. Should have sensed something... anything from the Otherworld.

Aisling watched the Irish coastline slip out of sight, and a few minutes later, the sun fell below the horizon, plunging the British Isles into darkness. Aisling’s mind was full of darkness as well, as she tried to figure out just how or why her connection to the Otherworld was suddenly gone.

...

---

Marisol
Creator
On Final Approach to Brandenburg Airport


Marisol was awoken by the sound of Captain Yoshido’s voice. He was gently shaking her by the shoulder.

“Wake up your friends and tell them we’re about an hour away from Berlin.” Yoshido said. “ATC says their connecting flight is already waiting for them at the terminal.”

Marisol sat up, stretched her arms, and gave a great big yawn. Then she crossed her eyes, trying to examine a smudge on her glasses.

“Thanks.” Marisol mumbled. “I look terrible, don’t I?”

“You look cute beyond all reason.” Captain Yoshido replied. “Promise you’ll tell the whole story next time we fly together. I have just got to know.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Marisol said. “You’re gonna be my therapist when all this is over.”

“I don’t think therapists screw their patients.” Yoshido whispered in Marisol’s ear.

He leaned in closer and simultaneously kissed Marisol while groping her inner thigh. Marisol snorted, suppressing a cry of surprise.

“Woah! Save it for Tokyo-Haneda!” She hissed, trying to keep quiet. “We can have fun after we save the world or whatever.”

“What? If you’re gonna tease me, then I get to tease you back.” Yoshio said playfully.

He kissed Marisol again, this time groping her in a place where she was much more sensitive. Marisol held her breath and leaned into it, silently savoring the moment, and then she pushed Yoshido away, giggling.

“Go land the plane, pervert.” She whispered. “I’ll see you when this is all over.”

While Captain Yoshido rejoined his colleagues in the cockpit, Marisol moved to the forward galley and found the light switch. When the lights came on, both the Creations and Paradox employees grumbled and complained, but followed Marisol’s orders when she told them it was time to prepare for landing.

“Hang on... where’s Blake and Cali?” Marisol said to herself.

The reply came immediately.

“Waiting for you to move aside so we can put the coffee back on its shelf.”

Blake and Cali were jammed into the back of the galley, pressing themselves against the emergency exit to allow Marisol space to stand by the lighting controls. Blake was clutching some airplane food in both hands, while Cali held a steaming mug of hot coffee in one hand and a thermos in the other.

“Sorry!” Marisol squeaked as she allowed Blake and Cali to extricate themselves.

“I just wanted a snack.” Blake said, munching on a spring roll. “I wasn’t ready to find out Cali has turned into some kind of coffee fiend.”

Cali returned the thermos to its place on the shelf and quickly started guzzling the beverage.

“If I don’t have coffee every morning, I will literally die.” Cali declared between gulps.

“I know that feeling.” Marisol giggled.

The plane shifted under their feet. The final descent into Germany was underway. Cali went back to her seat, but Blake hesitated. He leaned in toward Marisol and whispered in her ear:

“So... it sounded like you’re pretty close with Captain Yoshido. Have you inducted him into the ‘Mile High Club’ yet?”

Marisol was too stunned to reply. Blake raised an eyebrow.

“That’s one you’ve heard before, huh? Yep. I’ll show myself out.”

Shaking his head at his failed joke, Blake returned to his seat in the business class area. Right as he sat down, Marisol recovered. She reached into one of the galley drawers and retrieved a particularly thick copy of the Asiana company magazine. Then she started walking down the isle towards Blake, rolling the booklet into a baton-shape as she went.

Blake did not have time to ask what she was doing. As soon as Marisol reached his position, she lashed out, swatting Blake in the head with her rolled-up newspaper fifteen times before she was satisfied.

...

When the plane landed, the tires made a squealing sound. Marisol peered out of her window and grumbled.

“It’s raining here too!? How bad can our luck be?” She said.

A team of German airport workers wheeled a set of boarding stairs to the forward doors, making contact as soon as the plane stopped near the terminal.

Cali’s team went first, disembarking and walking directly onto the tarmac. The Creations followed with Creators bringing up the rear. Kanti was riding on Sebakhira’s shoulders, glaring at Blake. Emily held onto Blake’s shoulders, peering around nervously at the surrounding cityscape and airport.

“The PDX plane is over there, on the far side.” Cali called out, raising her voice to be heard over the noise of jet engines. “Everyone follow me.”

Marisol stayed on the plane just long enough to make sure everyone had taken their backpacks with them, then she disembarked after a short nonverbal goodbye with Captain Yoshido. As she fell in line behind Sebakhira, Marisol picked up on a growing sense of tension in the group. Kanti, Trig, and Sebakhira were looking at one another as they walked. (or flew, in Kanti’s case) Marisol had read enough of Blake’s stories to know the Psions were having a telepathic conversation. At one point, Kanti noticed Marisol’s gaze and turned in midair, coming to land on Marisol’s shoulder.

“While we are still far away from this second plane, let me share our concerns and ask for a clarification.” Kanti said.

“Uh, okay.” Marisol said. “What’s up?”

“Shepminter has been probing the minds of Varian and Mina. He has seen something we don’t understand. Psionic aftereffects. We thought you might know something about it.”

Marisol wracked her brains. Their connecting flight, a much smaller Learjet, was now in view.

“Uh... yeah. I helped Blake come up with the concept. It was part of the new system of Psionic powers we created for Song of the Solitaire. Basically, characters in that story could set up their Psi techniques on a delay, so that they could have influence and power over someone else for a very long time. Malum Ralpakin was supposed to be a master at that sort of thing. His telepathy could affect people decades later.”

Trig’s voice cut through the noise of the airport.

“That’s why my mother’s memories were blocked. Malum still had a hold on her mind after fifteen years.” He said.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Marisol replied. “Blake and I agreed this ability was the thing that would make Malum a different and more dangerous villain than Akira Robinson. Blake was really worried the readers would not take Malum seriously as a villain because he was going to follow in Akira’s footsteps. We wanted to make him stand out.”

“Well congratulations!” Varian replied in a sarcastic tone. “You really weren’t satisfied with my psychotic genocidal aunt from another timeline? You really had to go off and make someone worse than her?”

No one ever got the chance to reply. At that moment, a harsh and cold voice cut through the darkness.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged our familial relationship. Thank you Varian... someone as intelligent as you really must be my nephew.”

Team Marisol halted in their tracks. Weapons were drawn and Cali’s crew formed a protective ring around the Creations. Marisol was the first one to spot the newcomer.

“There she is, over there! She’s under the Qatar Airways plane!”

Akira Robinson was leaning against the landing gear of a Boeing Dreamliner, watching Team Marisol as they went by. She was so far away that she must have used telepathy to magnify her voice enough to be heard.

“You!” Varian shouted.

Mina suddenly lunged forward, trying to reach Akira, but Trig and Varian grabbed her.

“Akira! Help me!” Mina screamed. “I’ve gotta get back to Malum!”

Kanti tightened her grip on Marisol’s shoulders and gestured toward Mina.

“There. There it is.” Kanti said. “Somehow, Malum Ralpakin still has a hold on her.”

“We’ve got bigger problems than that.” Marisol replied. “That’s Akira over there!”

Akira let go of the Dreamliner and started to walk toward Team Marisol, speaking as she went:

“Relax, I’m not here to fight you. If anything, I’m here to offer my help.”

“Like hell you are!” Blake and Varian yelled simultaneously. “Back off!”

“What are you talking about!” Mina screamed. “He’s the enemy!”

Akira was close enough that she did not need to raise her voice any more, Cali’s team was now aiming their weapons at her chest and face, waiting for the order to fire.

“Listen to me!” Akira said, she was speaking past the group, directly to Blake. “I don’t want to save your life. It’s true.. but this crisis is bigger than all of us. We have to defeat Malum. He’s the real threat. I can prove it. Let me break his little spell on Mina.”

Mina began to spiral out of control. She began fighting against the two SWAT operatives holding her, screaming loudly.

“Again!? Really!?” Mina shrieked at Akira. “How many times are you going to reject his love, Akira?”

“Malum’s using the same brainwashing as in Song of the Solitaire?” Marisol said.

Unfortunately, her voice was lost amidst the growing tumult. Trig, Kanti, and Sebakhira were starting to emit powerful Psionic auras. They were steeling themselves for a fight. On the other hand, Aisling and Emily were yelling for Varian to “shut up and let her talk.”

“If she is against Malum, then she is no longer our enemy.” Aisling was saying. “Shouldn’t she at least get the chance to prove herself?”

Cali had positioned herself between Blake and Akira. After a moment, Marisol found herself doing the same.

“Akira is dangerous!” Marisol shouted to the group. “Ally to none and enemy of all, remember?”

A dark look passed over Akira’s face.

“That’s what I was like in Faith in Chaos.” Akira said, invoking the name of the book where she made her first appearance in the Stormbreaker Universe. “I am not that girl anymore. I’m becoming my own woman in this world, one who can help you if you just give me the chance!”

Emily stood on tiptoe and loudly projected her voice to the group:

“We should listen! I don’t sense anything evil from her, and neither does the fairy! Plus, she was so kind to me when she brought me into the real world. At least let me repay her for that.”

Akira looked at Emily and said.

“Thank you.”

It was the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back.

Varian lost all of his (or her) composure. She (or he) rounded on Emily with an expression of newfound horror and revulsion on their face. After a half a second of hesitation, Varian yelled:

“Okay, time for you to shut up!”

Varian raised one hand and punched Emily in the face. She keeled over backwards and collapsed into Blake’s arms.

Before Marisol could do or say anything, violence erupted around her as Trig and Aisling suddenly lunged at Varian. Sebakhira and Kanti quickly came to her (or his) defense and a brawl broke out on the tarmac as the Creations violently tore into one another.

<=== Episode Sixteen: That’s our power. We can be more than our backstories.

Episode Eighteen: This is my story now, and I am the hero.===>​

I'm going back to writing my favorite type of sci-fi after this. Angel of War is going to be a space opera, full of epic battles, melodrama, and romance. There will be three main protagonists, with the leading lady Ino caught in a love triangle. I have written this kind of setup before with Faith in Chaos, but I have recently thought of a few ways to make the Angel of War protags stand out from their spiritual predecessors and be unique.

 

[Macavity116]

We've reached the end of the Midpoint section, dear readers. Are you ready for the Climax?

<=== Episode Seventeen: I don’t want to save your life.

Episode Nineteen: Today we kill the God of Ink!===>​

​

The Broken Gates
Episode Eighteen: This is my story now, and I am the hero.

---

Aisling
Creation
Brandenburg Airport, Germany


Aisling leapt in front of Emily, shielding her from Varian’s next attack. Trig took the offensive, sending a pulse of telekinetic energy at Varian, who was caught in the blast and thrown backward.

Meanwhile, Cali and her SWAT team attempted to detain Sebakhira and Kanti, a task that quickly proved difficult. Kanti spread her wings and took flight, Sebakhira reared onto her hind legs and roared, a blue light emitting from her mouth as though she was going to breathe Soulfire!

“Eyes and ears!” Cali screamed as she pulled the pin on a modified flashbang grenade.

Kanti dove on Cali’s position, spraying blue Soulfire as she went. None of the supernatural flame reached Cali, though. Aisling had seen the attack coming and responded with her own power. At Aisling’s command, the skies above let loose a torrent of rain and wind, extinguishing Kanti’s attack.

At the same moment, Blake dive-tackled Varian, pinning her (or him) to the pavement.

“Get off! Let go of me!” Varian screamed.

At that moment, Cali’s flashbang detonated.

The darkened airport was suddenly illuminated, brighter than the sun for a single moment. All of the Gifted Creations were instantly incapacitated. Sebakhira, Kanti, Trig, and Aisling collapsed to the ground. Kanti was airborne when it happened, and she fell from the sky as though she was dead. Marisol and Aisling both ran to catch Kanti before she hit the pavement. Aisling got there first; she caught Kanti and then screamed in pain as Kanti’s beak impaled her arm.

Emily curled up on the ground, too distracted by her own injuries to pay attention to the events happening around her. Mina tripped over Emily as she tried to run toward Akira, and when Mina looked up again, she saw Akira lying facedown on the tarmac. The anti-Psionic weapon had affected her, too.

“Akira!” Mina screamed. “Get up!”

But Akira refused.

“Not gonna fight.” Akira seethed as she sat up. “Don’t wanna fight you guys.”

“Well that sounds like a surrender to me!” Cali panted as she ran over to Akira’s position. Then Cali addressed the rest of her SWAT team. “Just cuff everyone, we don’t have time for this bullshit!”

...

With all of the Gifted Creations momentarily out of action, the SWAT team was able to quickly regain control of the situation. Trig, Mina, Varian, Kanti, Sebakhira, Emily, and Aisling were all bound with zip-ties and bundled aboard the nearby Paradox Learjet. Blake and Marisol were nearly restrained as well, but the two members of the Countermeasures Committee, Herten and Bella, objected.

Once the whole group was safely aboard the jet, it began to taxi onto the main runway. From his place at the head of the passenger compartment, Herten spoke to the group.

“Look, I get that some of you characters have issues with each other. Bella tells me that this Akira girl has fought some of you in your respective stories, and maybe your grievances are valid… but the fact is we simply do not have time to put up with this. Our real enemy is still out there, and if Akira wants to defect, we have to take advantage of that.”

Struggling against his (or her) restraints, Varian said:

“It’ll be a cold day in Hell when I team up with that genocidal maniac over there!”

“Then I won’t ask you to team up with me.” Akira said. “Just use the information I have to beat Malum.”

Aisling tried to stand up, but she was bound more heavily than the others. Cali had warned her team about Aisling’s ability to shapeshift, so the young fairy had been tied up by the wrists and ankles, and something resembling a dog collar was fitted around Aisling’s neck. It was attached to a leash being held by one of Cali’s troopers. When Aisling tried to stand, said trooper forcefully pushed her back into her seat, so Aisling raised her voice instead.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell all of you! She knows something! We need to know everything she does!”

Blake (who was using a damp cloth and a first aid kit to nurse Emily’s head wound) looked around at Aisling.

“She’s right.” Blake said.

“I’m with Aisling.” Marisol added.

Aisling felt a warm and cozy sensation filling her heart when she realized both of her Creators were taking her side in the argument. Marisol gave Aisling a reassuring look. Aisling did not say anything. She just ran up the aisle and gave Marisol a hug before returning to her seat. As Aisling sat down again, the dumbfounded trooper held up two sets of zip-ties and the leash, saying:

“I was looking right at you! How did you slip out of these without me seeing!?”

Meanwhile, Marisol redirected the conversation at Akira.

“We have to stop Malum. Please. If there’s anything you can tell us, we need to know about it now!”

Herten, Blake, and Trig focused on Akira with the most intensity. Akira pointed at Trig.

“You know about Malum’s end goal.” She said. “He told you in your story. Malum wants to conquer and rule the multiverse Blake has been building in his own stories, and Malum thinks that he has to start his conquest here in the real world.”

“I remember that much.” Trig said. “Please tell me you’ve got the missing pieces.”

“I do.” Akira said.

She launched into her explanation while Varian sulked in the back of the plane.

“Malum’s plan for the real world is twofold. He knows that he comes from a work of fanfiction, so he wants to speed up the whole conquest thing by controlling both the author and the game the stories are based on. Malum wanted to kill Macavity116, Blake, and replace him with a Creator Malum could control. Probably HistoryDude or FamilyTreeEnthusiast. Then Malum was going to take over Paradox Interactive and force the game developers to rework the game, to make it easier for him to invade other realities and dimensions. Paradox HQ is going to be the nerve center of the Broken Gates network.”

Marisol interrupted.

“The Broken Gates… those are the dimensional portals Malum was using to move around in his own story.”

Akira nodded.

“Malum’s branched out.” She said. “He found a way to infiltrate other stories, other realities, using the Reality Perforator. When he got somewhere new, he’d build a Broken Gate to connect it to his Sanctum.”

“The Sanctum I destroyed at the end of my story.” Trig commented.

“One and the same.” Akira confirmed. “There were six Broken Gates: One in his Sanctum, another in the Dreamworld where you and Tenna used to hang out. There’s another in the Shroud… specifically the version of the Shroud that appeared in After Everything, Blake’s very first book. After that, he built another Gate inside the world of Blake’s newest book, Last Days of the Emerald Isle. He concealed it inside of the dimensional rift the Olinbar used to invade Ireland. Then the fifth gate is in the world of a story called Grand Theft Stellaris. It’s underneath a city in the wreck of a buried starship.”

Blake swore.

“Fuck. He put it inside the wreck of the Blind Fury. Cali, there’s a Broken Gate right under your hometown.”

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” Cali groaned.

“So, like, what about the sixth Gate?” Bella asked. “Where is it?”

Akira took a deep breath.

“They weren’t finished building it when I ran away.” She said. “But… it’s here in the real world. It’s on an island in the middle of that river that runs through the middle of Stockholm.”

All of the color went out of Herten’s face. He reached for his cell phone, seemingly forgetting that he was in an airplane thousands of meters above Europe.

“I need to make a call.” Herten said, his voice shaking.

“There’s more.” Akira said in a low voice. “Malum’s plan hinges on the Reality Perforator, but he’s serious about turning Paradox Headquarters into his new base. Blake… I don’t know how to tell you this… but Malum has been visiting all of your previous stories. Ever since Trig wounded him, he’s been gathering up all sorts of stuff to increase his Psionic powers. He’s going to move his collection into Paradox HQ once he takes it.”

Blake furrowed his brow, thinking hard. Marisol did the same. After a few moments, she said:

“Oh God. Blake, I think this one’s on me.”

Everyone looked at Marisol. She addressed the rest of the group, but kept her eyes on Trig.

“It was my idea.” Marisol said. “In Song of the Solitaire, I wrote the final draft of Trig’s fight with Malum. I wanted Trig to have this turning point where he started to unlock his full Psionic powers without realizing it… so I wrote that when Trig burned Malum with Soulfire, he left a persistent Psionic injury that would burn Malum any time he tried to use a Broken Gate.”

Akira snapped her fingers, looking excited.

“Yes! He’s been getting burned!” Akira said, then turned to face Trig. “I don’t know what exactly you did, but the injury is compounding. Every time Malum goes through the Broken Gates, the burns get worse. He actually quit trying and pretty much got stuck in Grand Theft Stellaris while he was searching for a solution.”

“I’m guessing he found one.” Blake said. “You mentioned he was taking Psionic artifacts from some of my other stories?”

Akira nodded.

“He’s got three right now. I think he wanted six, but with everything that’s happened, he must have put the collecting on hold.”

Trig raised his hand and interrupted.

“Akira, he’s been collecting a lot longer than that. Tenna and I smashed up a bunch of artifacts he took from other worlds when we wrecked his Sanctum.”

Marisol let out a gasp and started counting on her fingers.

“I remember! Song of the Solitaire, Chapter 57. Blake, we spelled out exactly what relics he had! The Guidestone of Kharak, the Isolated Contingency Core, the Shadowkeeper, and Jericho’s Eternal Flame!”

Akira raised an eyebrow.

“The Shadowkeeper? Why does Malum have my mother’s gun?”

“That gun was part of some of the most famous scenes in the Stormbreaker Universe.” Blake said. “It’s the gun that killed you.”

Akira’s eyes widened and she let out a low whistle.

“I’m going to be killed by the Shadowkeeper? My mother’s gun? The gun I used to kill my own father!? Wow, Blake. You really are a demented writer.” She said.

“Guilty.” Blake admitted. “So, is it safe to assume Malum has the Shadowkeeper now? That’s bad.”

“Why’s it bad?” Aisling asked.

“The Shadowkeeper has a special power.” Marisol explained. “It makes a huge cloud of smoke that lets the user disappear for a few seconds.”

Sebakhira raised her paw.

“There are Psionic techniques that allow one to conceal themselves. Why would Malum go to such trouble to acquire this weapon when it would be easier to learn how to cast Bending Reed?”

Aisling had the answer:

“Malum is static. Marisol said so. Maybe… maybe he can’t learn new Psionics.”

A small voice came from just beside Blake.

“Didn’t you hear what Marisol said on the other plane?” Emily said. “We are more than our backstories. We can learn and grow and develop. Malum can’t. We can change here in the real world. And it all starts with our understanding.”

Blake looked at Emily.

“You sound like someone whose understanding has changed.” He said.

Emily smiled.

“My Blake has a different way of caressing me when I’m hurt.” She said. “You’re not totally off the mark, but just wrong enough that I noticed.”

The moment was ruined by Herten. He had stepped away for a moment to make a phone call, but now returned to the passenger area.

“Everyone… I have some very bad news.” Herten said. “It’s Malum. He’s made his move.”

…

---

Whetu Kealoha
Creation
Stockholm, Sweden


About one hour previous… Whetu emerged from the Broken Gate.

The first thing she saw was Malum Ralpakin. He stood on a rocky hilltop, the highest point of little Rotholmen Island. She announced herself in a meek voice.

“My love… I’ve brought it here, just as you asked.”

“Did you enjoy visiting your story again?” Malum asked without looking at her.

“No.” Whetu replied. “My story was a miserable one. I’m happy to be free of it.”

Malum turned around and waited for Whetu to climb the little hill. She reached out and offered him a long, thin package. Malum took it and undid the wrapping. Inside the package, Malum found a crystal sword.

It was the Soulkeeper; an anti-Psionic weapon that belonged to Whetu Kealoha. She used it throughout multiple books in the Stormbreaker Universe. Made from crystalline Protodermis wrapped around an Elerium core, the bluish-green blade was a Psionic insulator. So long as the user kept a firm grip on the handle, he would be totally immune to telepathic attack.

Moments later, Cassandra Espinosa appeared. She was carrying a strange bundle: A metal backpack, connected to an armband by several dozen electrical cables. A dim green light could be seen through a circular porthole on the pack.

“I made sure to take it from the early chapter, like you said.” Cassandra explained. “My mom doesn’t know its gone.”

She handed over the Prometheus Device. This contraption was a custom-built Psionic Amplifier, owned and operated (until moments ago) by a different version of Akira Robinson. When worn, it would amplify and strengthen the Psionic powers of the user.

“Remember, you cannot use both of these things at the same time.” Cassandra said. “The Soulkeeper will restrict your own Gift when you’re holding it.”

As Malum donned the Prometheus Device, he asked one final question:

“Where is the Sarcophagus?”

“Late, but it will be here.” Cassandra replied.

Then she offered a heavy canvas bag to Malum. He held out his hand, and Cassandra turned the bag over. The Reality Perforator, shining in the night like a miniature moon, fell into Malum’s outstretched palm.

…

Whetu and Cassandra followed Malum. Along the way, Kiri, Dak, Moka, and Uisce joined them. Malum and Uisce enveloped the rest of the team in their powers, and they walked across the surface of the Söderström as though it was made of glass.

Hundreds of dumbfounded Swedes watched as Malum’s team came ashore. Without breaking stride, the group advanced along Hornsgaten before turning south. Cars and trucks came to a stop as the Great Khan and his followers walked down the center of the roadway. City dwellers pulled out their cell phones to document the procession.

Finally, Whetu spotted a red-haired woman wearing a blue dress, waving to the group from a street corner. Tenna Annora had also taken the time to visit one of Blake’s previous stories. She too was armed with a Psionic weapon: A pair of Celestial Gauntlets taken from After Everything.

“They’ve barricaded themselves inside.” Tenna reported.

“Nothing stands in my way.” Malum said.

He raised his right hand. The Venn Brace wrapped around his forearm hummed as it was fed energy by the Prometheus Device on his back.

Malum approached the front entrance of Paradox Interactive Headquarters.

“I am Malum Ralpakin, Great Khan and master of the pathways between realities! I command you to open your doors at once!”

Malum’s voice boomed through the city streets. Hundreds of onlookers watched curiously, cell phones raised. Very few of them realized they were in danger.

When the employees of Paradox Interactive ignored Malum’s demand, he activated the Prometheus Device with one hand. With the other, he touched his own chest. A small ember appeared in his hand, quickly erupting into green Soulfire. Malum spoke to the emerald flames as though he was praying:

“Your days are over, Blake Robinson and Paradox Interactive. I have come to reclaim my destiny. This is my story now, and I am the hero.”

Malum took a deep breath, let out a bloodcurdling war cry… and launched the assault on Paradox Headquarters.

<=== Episode Seventeen: I don’t want to save your life.

Episode Nineteen: Today we kill the God of Ink!===>​

 

[Macavity116]

We are rapidly closing in on the final actions of The Broken Gates. But while I continue setting up the pieces for the upcoming finale, I do intend to continue writing these little moments where the characters criticize or poke fun at Blake/Me for various transgressions.

<=== Episode Eighteen: This is my story now, and I am the hero.

Episode Twenty: I'm starting to hate this plan. ===>​

The Broken Gates
Episode Nineteen: Today we kill the God of Ink!

---

Marisol
Creator.
Stockholm, Sweden


Aside from the deep rumble of jet engines, the airplane was silent. Herten held his cell phone in front of him, allowing the Creators and Creations to listen to the voice emitting from the speaker:

“We’ve barricaded ourselves in the civil defense bunker.” A man’s voice was saying. “But we don’t know how long we can hold out in here!”

Bella got out of her seat and used the flight attendant’s phone to call the cockpit.

“We’re, like, an hour away from Stockholm.” Bella reported.

Sebakhira, Cali, and Akira all turned to look at Blake.

“What?” He said.

“I seem to remember that you really enjoy writing those scenes where all of the protagonists get together and plan out the final battle.” Cali said. “It seems as though that moment has arrived.”

Trig laughed.

“Cali, did you actually read any of the final battles in Blake’s stories? The heroes plan, they get there, and then all hell breaks loose.” He said.

Marisol stood up, shaking her head.

“No, Trig. That’s just a common theme in Blake’s stories. The plans themselves are worthless, but the act of planning is indispensable.”

Now the group was turning its attention onto Marisol.

“So, what’s our play then?” Varian asked.

Marisol folded her arms in thought.

“What if we pull an After Everything?” Marisol suggested. “Force Malum to exhaust his powers?”

“That’s a tall order. He has three Gifted characters on his side.” Blake said. “We’d also have to exhaust Whetu, Tenna, and Cassandra.”

“Leave Tenna to me.” Trig said. “I’ve got a score to settle with her.”

“I’ll take Cassandra.” Varian said. “Maybe I can break her out of Malum’s control.”

A metaphorical lightbulb illuminated Marisol’s imagination.

“Hey, wait a second.” Marisol said.

She looked toward the back of the plane where Mina was sitting. Mina was handcuffed and sat between two members of Cali’s SWAT team.

“Hey, Akira… didn’t you say that you could break Malum’s power over Mina?”

Akira rose from her seat, about two rows behind Blake.

“Yes, I did. I’ll take care of Mina, and then I need to talk to Blake about something privately.”

While Akira moved to the back of the plane, Bella cut in:

“What’s all that about ‘exhausting’ Malum? What am I missing here?”

Marisol jerked her thumb at Blake.

“The… oh, what do you call it? The magic system in Blake’s universe is built on rules. One of the most important rules is that all power is finite. Any character can lose their powers if they’re overused. It’s happened to quite a few characters, actually.”

“Manaaki Ranginui, Ignatius Petoskey, Trurah Ponnico, and Mira Mihaka, just to name a few.” Blake added.

Herten folded his arms in thought.

“Any other Psionic tidbits we should know before we head into this fight, Robinson? Now’s the time.” He said.

Blake furrowed his brow.

“Unique powers.” Blake said. “Every Gifted person has one... and… HEY! Wait a minute… what the fuck!?”

Blake rose from his seat and turned to face Sebakhira. The lioness widened her eyes, trying to find out why Blake was glaring at her.

“You!” Blake said. “Your unique power is Clairvoyance! Have you not had any visions since this whole thing kicked off!?”

“You’re a fortune-teller?” Trig said, “I’ve got some questions if that’s the case.”

Sebakhira raised her forepaws into the “hands up” position.

“It’s true I sometimes have visions of the future…” Sebakhira said. “But I have had no such visions since arriving here in this world.”

“But… but why!?” Blake stammered.

“Yes, why?” Bella added. “Having someone on our side who can see the future is, like, an instant win!”

Marisol tapped Blake’s shoulder.

“Blake… Sebakhira hasn’t had any visions because you haven’t written any for her.”

Marisol’s words caused a second bout of stunned silence to take the plane. After a moment, Marisol continued:

“Remember Faith in Chaos? Sebakhira’s visions would happen at random… which is another way of saying they only happened when the author found it convenient. When you said it was okay for her to see the future.”

Blake kicked an empty seat and swore.

“Fuck, I wish I knew I’d be writing myself into a jam five years later.” Blake said. “Fuck!”

Herten tried to refocus the conversation.

“What about our enemies? Do they have these, uh, unique powers?”

Marisol jammed her eyes shut, thinking hard.

“Whetu can use Psionics to make herself super stealthy and Cassandra can turn herself into a giant green monster.”

“Emerald Avatar.” Varian said. “It’s called the Emerald Avatar, and since it’s the older version of Cassandra, she has a lot of control over it.”

“What about the Water Witch?” Cali asked.

“Uicse? Elasticity.” Blake said nonchalantly. “Ever see a movie called The Incredibles? Picture Elastigirl but with water. I’m not too sure how far she can go with that power, though, because she’s really underdeveloped as a character. Same goes for Aisling.”

Blake pointed at the fairy, who turned red and tried to hide her face.

“What’s Aisling’s special power?” Cali asked. “Is it the shapeshifting?”

“Weather control.” Blake and Marisol said together.

“Blake is right. It’s underdeveloped. The only one who knows how far she can take it is Aisling herself.” Marisol said.

“Me? Really?” Aisling squeaked.

“Yup.” Marisol said, giving Aisling a reassuring smile.

Herten frowned.

“What about the boy?” He said, pointing at Trig.

“Healing Aura.” Trig replied. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a physical or telepathic injury. I can patch you up.”

“The peacock. What’s her power?” Herten asked.

Kanti ruffled her feathers angrily.

“I am a peahen, and I have a name.” she grumbled.

“Kanti can telepathically force people to fall in love with her.” Blake said. “But it’s a watered down version of what Malum can do. For Kanti, she can only produce a strong sense of physical attraction or lust. Malum can force a deeper emotional attraction.”

Cali was looking discouraged.

“So, that just leaves Akira.”

“NO!” Marisol and Blake yelled together, causing everyone to startle.

A small voice dared to reply.

“So… Akira’s power isn’t whatever she just did to me?”

Mina Soban-Re was standing up near the back of the plane. One of Cali’s troopers was removing the handcuffs while Akira gently caressed the top of Mina’s head.

“I’m afraid not.” Akira replied.

Then Akira turned to face everyone else.

“She’s cured.” Akira reported. “It’s very strange. Malum is using a mixture of Domination and Solace to produce the infatuation effect. Normally, those two techniques can’t be mixed.”

“Domination is permanent Mind Control, while Solace is used to heal telepathic injuries.” Sebakhira explained to the group.

Mina put her head in her hands.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I feel so ashamed.” Mina said. “I fell in love with a creepy blue alien and I don’t know why. I just… I thought he was right about everything.”

Akira put one arm around Mina in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay. Being telepathically influenced like that for such a long time is traumatic. It’ll take time for you to get your wits back.”

“Never thought I would hear those words from the most skilled telepathic manipulator in the universe.” Blake remarked.

“Yeah, who are you and what have you done with Akira Robinson?” Varian added.

“Like I said… I’m not the same person as I was a few weeks back.” Akira replied. “Coming here to the real world has changed me. Changed all of us.”

“You should consider becoming a permanent resident.” Cali joked. “I need some company. Also… why can’t we use Akira’s unique power?”

Akira opened her mouth to speak, but both Blake and Marisol cut her off.

“Akira can basically create black holes.” Marisol said.

“She’s oversimplifying.” Blake said. “Akira can basically delete matter and energy whenever she damn well feels like it; but every time she does that, she inflicts permanent damage on the universe itself. That’s why there’s Astral Rifts everywhere in Song of the Solitaire. It’s the damage leftover from Akira using Abolish.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Akira can instantly kill Malum if she gets close enough to him?” Herten said in a helpful tone.

“Yeah, if you’re also comfortable with wiping out half of Sweden along the way.” Blake snarked. “Sorry Akira, but if you even think of using Abolish in the middle of Stockholm, I’ll kill you myself.”

Varian was staring slack-jawed at Akira. Then he (or she) looked at Blake.

“Does she ever use that power on me in my story?” Varian asked.

“Once, right before the final battle.” Blake replied. “She wiped the entire city of Orlando off the face of the Earth, killed about two million people.”

Akira’s face turned a little pale.

“I did that!?” She breathed.

Blake raised an eyebrow.

“Had a hunch you were an earlier version.” Blake said. “Are you from Faith in Chaos or The Stormbreakers?”

“Stormbreakers.” Akira replied. “I was locked up in the brig when Malum pulled me out of my story.”

“Somewhere around Chapter 10.” Marisol commented.

Blake let out a low whistle.

“Early version of Akira, with only one on-page atrocity under her belt. No wonder you had the potential to change. You’re still redeemable.”

Cali folded her arms.

“Any other surprises we should know about, Blake? Any other unique powers that could turn the tide?”

Blake furrowed his brow in thought, but Marisol found the answer first.

“Tenna!” Marisol gasped. “Holy shit, how did we forget about her power!?”

Blake looked at her, and then his eyes went wide. He looked at Cali.

“Aw, fuck! We forgot because we never wrote Tenna using it!” He said. “Cali, when was the last time you heard from Asimov?”



…

---

Tenna Annora
Creation
Paradox Interactive Headquarters, Stockholm


The invasion of Paradox HQ hit its first roadblock just beyond the atrium.

“We’ve got automated defenses ahead!” Dak yelled. “Stay behind this corner.”

Moka grabbed her older brother and pulled on his shoulder.

“Back up! Let the Technomage do her work!” Moka said.

Tenna activated her Celestial Gauntlets. Reaching out with her Psionic powers, she was able to sense the presence of a weapon hidden just around the corridor.

“I thought these people were video game developers!” Tenna said. “Why do they have a security droid!?”

After a moment of searching, Tenna found it. A small robot, equipped with a nearly-sapient AI, was patrolling the next corridor. It was augmented with several million nanobots and had a tight beam connection to an anti-Psionic weapon embedded in a nearby wall.

“You can’t hide from me.” Tenna said.

She sent a pulse of Telepathic energy through two walls and up the next hallway. The little robot Asimov let out a series of shrill beeps and whistles as it came under attack, only to fall silent moments later.

“I’ve got it!” Tenna announced.

She had placed Asimov under Mind Control. At her command, the little robot disabled the hidden anti-Psionic weapon, allowing Malum’s team to press deeper into Paradox HQ. Tenna trailed behind Malum, ordering Asimov to keep up.

Rounding a corner, Malum and his followers found themselves in a lounge, where two grey sofas faced each other on opposite sides of a pair of yellow coffee tables. The far wall was painted with a mural depicting a scene from Hearts of Iron 4. The likeness of General Douglas McArthur peered down on the scene through his sunglasses with a disapproving glare.

A group of Paradox executives stood shoulder-to-shoulder, hiding their fright behind expressions of determined defiance.

A 50-year-old man held the center of the group, his stubble, slicked-back hair, and stubborn frown making him look like a retired action hero. While his colleagues flinched at Malum’s approach he remained resolute.

“I know who you are.” Said the CEO of Paradox Interactive.

“Good, good. That will expedite things.” Malum replied. “There is much to do. Today we will kill the God of Ink! After that, we must commence our next work. There is much to be built, to be staged. I will need… I will need you to stop reaching into your pocket!”

Telekinetic energy wrapped itself around the CEO. He had jammed his right hand into his pocket and was attempting to grab something. Tenna felt her heartbeat quicken. The Paradox CEO was strong-willed, and therefore able to resist Psionic attack. Slowly, inexorably, the CEO started to withdraw a smartphone from his pocket.

“The Great Khan told you to stop moving!” Tenna snapped.

She too began to hit the Paradox leader with Telekinesis, trying to force him into submission. Moments later, Cassandra and Whetu joined in. Cassandra attempted to place the CEO under Mind Control, while Whetu used Mindfray to harm the man outright. To Tenna’s horror, the Paradox CEO was not totally immobilized. He slid his thumb across the phone screen to unlock it. An app appeared on the screen. Tenna could see a bright red button labelled “EMERGENCY PLAN A” on the screen.

“GET THE PHONE!” Tenna shouted.

Kiri, Dak, Moka, and Uisce all lunged forward, trying to seize the CEO’s phone, but the other Paradox executives took action. Like American football players, they ran interference, blocking and pushing back against Malum’s followers.

The Great Khan released the largest Psionic pulse yet, bathing the room and its occupants in telepathic power. Then, just as the chaotic skirmish reached peak intensity…

The power went out, and Paradox HQ was plunged into darkness.

<=== Episode Eighteen: This is my story now, and I am the hero.

Episode Twenty: I'm starting to hate this plan. ===>​