CHAPTER 1: What a pretty, destroyed world you have!

All of this is very experimental so bear with me. The canon characters do indeed appear later but not yet. They play a huge role in the story and will be given attention later. Promise. But for now, bear with me as I introduce a new cast. I would appreciate criticisms, thank you.

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There was a ringing in her ears, and in her dreams. It was faint, like a bell growing louder and shriller until its ringing became painful. Her head pounded, her teeth ground and she opened her eyes, coming so slowly from a quiet dream.

And she met only another, equal quiet. It wasn't a dream, it was reality. How utterly sad. She blinked away the sleep, her mind still half dreaming as she glanced into, up, and all about herself, looking searching but only finding blackness.

She lay down on her back, sprawled across the ground and kept her eyes shut so hard they hurt. Don't move, don't breathe and don't think.

Her head moved right, her eyes opened and she stared for a long moment into absolutely nothing but darkness. She looked left and saw more darkness. Nothing, she thought, nothing. Nothing meant everything was dead. So very dead. Death wasn't pretty, death wasn't exciting, death hurt. It all hurt around her heart.

What did her mother always say about death? Something about how boring it'd be compared to how colorful life was? Or was it the other way around? Or was it not?

Who was her mother? What face did mother have? She had a pretty face, a beautiful face with…or was it an ugly face?

She had dog, didn't she? Or was it a cat? Or dolphin? Was it even legal to own a dolphin?

She stared into the dark. A memory slipped by, out of sight, out of mind and then another, and then another until they all glided away. Her brain felt so numb, so empty yet strangely, it felt clean.

Yet she had lost something. Something so big, so real, so important…but what was it? Her clean brain wouldn't say a thing; it simply gave her more questions.

Lying there, thinking her frustratingly clean, empty thought, she suddenly thrashed her limbs, dug her fingernails into her cheeks and cried, cried for everything her heart felt for.

A light fell on her and into her eyes as she blinked it away. It was a clean white light, a pretty light.

"Shush!" She heard a voice yell above her crying. "You're high pitched little girl voice shall be the death of these ears of mine. I swear, people these days…don't enjoy silence in the least."

She paused, turned silent, and looked above herself and then she could only whimper, confused, when all she saw was a strange, pudgy man in pure white pants and shirt, his stomach overhanging it all. He sort of tilted his head, sighed, rolled his eyes, did all sort of things people do when they're bored and irritated at life.

"Stand." His pudgy hand motioned up as he spoke in the flattest and most tired of voices.

She stood, shaking on her legs and staring blankly through the bright, with light. It came from a gem in the man's hand, his other hand he held a notepad with a silver pen dangling by a leather string.

"Why are you alive?" He asked.

"Wh-what?" was all she could manage to say.

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and head. "I said," he began louder, "Why are you alive?"

She blinked. "I don't understand!"

The man hit his head with his notebook. Obviously, he was not accustomed to dealing with frustration.

"Who are you?" She asked, her words rushing from her mouth. She didn't know exactly what she wanted to ask, even though she knew it had to be something. She figured that this was a start.

The man glared at her side long, holding his notepad to his fat chest. "I am," he began importantly and he almost didn't seem very, very bored but simply bored which was always a good thing. "Remnare Oletharne Telqueness of the Fifth Order of the World Council." He pointed at her. "And you should be dead."

"You're Remnare? Okay, help me! I don't get what's going on. I don't remember a thing and this place is dark and cold and if I want my mommy except maybe I don't have a mommy and I don't remember a thing and—"

"I am not Remnare!" he snapped impatiently. "I am Remnare Oletharne Telqueness of the Fifth Order of the World Council!"

"Look." She said tearfully. "I don't know what is going on! Just explain it to me!"

Remnare sighed. "You want to know what's going on? I suppose you would, I personally wouldn't but no matter, I guess. Alright, by the law of the council, the very same council by which I kiss butt and hope for goodies, lots of hopefully not brown goodies, I must tell you that we are very sorry for your loss, it wasn't our fault, for love's sake don't seek revenge on us, yadda yadda yadda."

"Oh…okay," She said, not sure what to say. "I don't really get what's going on still. But okay."

"Memory lapses?" Remnare said, nodding. "Yes, happens to all survivors I guess. It's for the best, really, memories are painful most people find. You have not totally forgotten everything and I pity you for that. You'll remember in spurts."

"Happens to whom?" She asked.

"Survivors," Remnare said.

"A survivor? Of what?" She said. "Of what? What? Something big? …am I dead!?"

'"Don't you know?" He said. "The council is sorry to say that your world was destroyed. You stand on what is in the place of a real world. You currently stand on the remnants of nothing. That's why it's so dark and cold. It's just a temporary place holder until I, I mean the Council decides what type of world needs to be made in its steed. I just make notes on the destruction. As the sole survivor and since I sort of, kind of, really don't care about your opinion what sort of world should we put here. Corporate world? Or a play world? Maybe an ice world?"

"Everything? Gone?"

"Gone." He said. "You should be, too. Trust me; it'd make my job easier"

"So dead…" she said. "Oh no. Oh no. Did you kill them? Did you!?"

"No girl, we do not kill anyone." Remnare replied heatedly. "We record and, we build. The heartless destroyed your world. Oh, the destroyers, like that damn Organization of something idiotic, try to create new worlds but, happily, those worlds are only virtual. Wouldn't want those punks getting in on our business. We create the worlds, us, not those idiots." Remnare heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his toes. "I digress, though. I suppose we must now figure out what to do with you, seeing as how you didn't die. So, who are you?"

"I'm—" She stopped. No name came to her in her empty brain. "Um…I don't know."

"Marvelous," He said sarcastically "Marvelous. Now unless your name is I don't know—at which case I must ask why your parents hated you so much or what they were drinking—I have to involve that harridan into this. Issbelle!" he yelled, one hand tapping the silver pen against the edge of the notepad.

She looked at Remnare and then behind her and she saw a woman step into the light. The woman was tall, thin with long, disproportionate legs, and black hair shaved right up to the skull. She wore a frown on her thin lips and puffy cheeks. Her legs were long, almost disproportionately so. Her hair was black and, shaved close to her skull. She brushed her white shirt off, then her white pants. "What is it?" She snapped

"This is it!" He replied angrily, ushering towards the girl.

The woman looked tired as she slowly looked towards her. "It didn't die." She stated.

"The world did but this thing-" he once again ushered towards the girl once more, "didn't."

"What are you called?" Issbelle asked, bending down to look in the girl's eyes. "Remnare, record this."

Remnare coughed. "I am Remnare Telqueness of-"

Issbelle glared at him. "Dammit! You are Remnare! If you want to play that stupid game then you will have to call me by my full name."

"But your full name is so long-" Remnare began

"Yes, yes, I know." Issbelle said, turning so that she could see the girl in the eyes. "What is your name?" She asked again. "Or do you not remember the stupid thing?"

It was a cold, fixed minute that Issbelle took to give the girl a cold, little look.

"I don't remember," she said. "I mean, I sort of remember, sort of. Sorry, sorry…"

"You need a name then," Issbelle said. She looked at Remnare. "She needs a name."

"Pigeon," Remnare said. "She shall be Pigeon."

"Whatever. As long as you can write it on paper then fine," Issbelle said.

"Athnee," the girl replied.

"Is that you're real name?" Issbelle said.

"No. But it sounds pretty," Athnee said. "But I could be Pigeon if you really want…isn't a pigeon a bird. Funny I remember that now…"

"Your biological sex, if you have one." Issbelle said.

"Female," she said.

"Whoo," Remnare said. "Girl power! Not…"

"Shut up and write, Remnare. Athnee, tell us your age," Issbelle said.

"Sixteen." The girl answered.

"Centuries?" Remnare asked, looking up from his notepad, the pen stilled just above the paper.

"Centuries...?" She said. "Ugh. No, no. Years."

"Hmmm..." He quickly scribbled something over.

Issbelle bent down, looking Athnee eye-for-eye as she grabbed Athnee's face, held it tight and forced her head to right and left, examining each side as Athnee's eyebrows furrowed. "She has a type four nose, though the upward curve of her nose bridge almost makes it a type five. Her cheekbone is a type seventy-four except it isn't pointed too much so I suppose that makes it a type seventy-four one-half and seventy-five—" Issbelle continued onwards, Remnare recording it all as fast as Issbelle could speak.

Finished, they both peered at Athnee. Athnee hated those looks they gave her, she hated the way they watched her. She looked away, scratching an imaginary itch on her cheek.

"Does the girl have a heart?" Issbelle asked.

Athnee gently brought her index finger towards her neck, laying it there. There it was, she felt, the gentle beat of her heart. She removed her hand. "Yes, I have a heart." Athnee said.

"I was not talking to you, girl!" Issbelle snapped.

Remnare scratched his head. "A heart. I can not rightly say."

"But-" Athnee began, "I do have a heart! I can feel it beating!"

Issbelle slapped her forehead with her hand. "Not that type of heart!" She said.

"But-but-" Athnee tried to say, but her words were caught in her throat as she looked up at Isabelle's angry face.

"Shut up, girl! Allow me to converse with Remnare in peace!"

Athnee took a turn at silence and did nothing but silent things, such as look at things, like Issbelle and Remnare and darkness and more darkness.

"I suppose we'll have to bring her before the Council. I hear that there have been a few others whom have survived despite these...circumstances." Remnare coughed. "We'll take her to the World Council, I suppose."

Issbelle sighed, sighed so deep as to show how utterly and dramatically frustrated she was. "I suppose so. I'm just tired of supposing." She said, looking about herself slow and moving slower. Everything about her seemed so sluggish, and her glazed eyes showed a woman who was exhausted.

"I suppose." Remnare said distantly as he continued to scribble words into his notepad.

Issbelle groaned. "Can't we just leave her?"

"I don't like being alone," Athnee said. "Please, I don't like this dark, I don't like this place. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Stay, stay please!"

Issbelle gave her a harsh look before looking away, towards Remnare. I suppose we will send the girl before the council. Who knows, she could prove herself capable as the others."

Remnare shrugged. "I highly doubt it."

"Capable of what?" She said. "What am I capable of?" Something came into her clean, little mind, a memory, she realized. "That's right! I am good at math and science and...some non-physical sports like bird watching. But I'm a really good spectator for everything! See I'm capable!"

Remnare sighed. As if this were her cue, Issbelle responded, "You're capable of nothing but talking! Now shut that poor, unfortunate and overworked mouth of your and, for my sake, spare our ears of that voice of yours."

Hurt, Athnee slowly clenched her teeth beneath her closed lips. She winced. What could she say to that? She knew that if she talked she would invariably end up saying something less than stunning. But she talked, anyway. "...But I am capable..." She pursed her lips.

Issbelle snorted; a half smile on her lips. "Yes, yes, because the one thing this organization needs is as follows: more fools, idiots, Remnares and bird watchers."

"I think I take offense to that," Remnare said.

"Of course you do," Issbelle said.

"You never know." Athnee murmured, closing her eyes, so tired, so sleepy, so empty. Here she was, this empty girl with such a squeaky clean brain with not a memory in it, standing there before these people. How sad. Why'd she hate herself so much then?

"Open your eyes girl and, answer me!" Issbelle said. "Are you coming with us or not?"

Issbelle's words died before they even reached Athnee's ears. None of this was real. None of this was real, she kept chanting in her mind. This is not real. The pain is not real. The air caught in her throat. She didn't breathe for she was striving to die. She probably wasn't even real. She didn't want to live. There was no point. Athnee felt so sad and she couldn't remember why but a sad part of Athnee told her to just die, to stop breathing.

Her head became light and empty, she felt dizzy and her face began to get hot as her body temperature rose, her palms becoming moist, throat becoming tight. She could see Remnare and Issbelle talking but she didn't hear them say a thing. Her vision blurred and Issbelle and Remnare lost focus, every color becoming gray and black at the corners of her vision. Then, it all became black and her mind empty as she fell towards the ground, her knees giving in.

Issbelle blinked, wondering what was wrong with the pathetic girl. Her look darkened when she noticed Athnee lying on the ground. She bent down and clutched the girl's shoulders, her grip so hard that she knew that she would leave behind ten small indentions. She moved her arms forwards and back, furiously shaking the girl back to conscience.

"You are making matters worst." Remnare said lazily; watching everything with glazed, exhausted eyes. He seemed to still be recording, his pen leaving trails of dark ink in its wake. "When someone faints you don't want to shake them. It can—"

"Shut up!" Issbelle spat, breaking Remnare's sentence. She continued to shake Athnee, her voice hushed as she ordered under her breath, "Wake up, stupid girl. WAKE UP!" Towards the end of her sentence, her voice became less hushed, nearly a shout.

Athnee slowly came around. Her face was flushed, devoid of color. She felt lethargic; her body seemed heavy to her, her limbs hard for her muscles to move. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest.

She began to feel her heart beating slow. Her mind became clearer. Her brain became more receptive to what she saw.

Issbelle backed away and stood. "I can already tell that you will be more trouble than you are worth!" Issbelle said.

Athnee sat up, pulling herself off the ground. She stared at Issbelle with wide eyes. "What?" she asked.

"Stupid girl," Issbelle stated huffily. "Get up."

Athnee stood, her knees shaking, her legs felt unstable.

"Issbelle," Remnare began, looking up from his notepad. "When you were shaking the girl, should I describe it as vigorous or slow? I forgot how it went."

Issbelle shrugged. "Be vague," She replied. "The Council has no rules against that. Or you could describe it however the hell you want. If they catch you on it later, say that it's a matter of opinion."

"Alright." Remnare said, scribbling. "I'll describe it as stupidly."

Issbelle glared at him, her face scrunching. "Remnare," She began, her voice was low and slow. "Just because the Council won't catch you on that obvious lie, doesn't mean I won't. I suggest you change it to something more fitting."

"Lie?" Remnare snorted. "But you are right. From a vocabulary standpoint I really must change it. How about negligently?"

"How about not." Issbelle stated flatly.

"You were never one for vocabulary...or language...or higher thinking..." Remnare smiled mockingly. He contemptuously tapped his pen on his temples, as if he were pondering deeply. "I suppose that must be why you weren't chosen to be a scribe."

"Remnare, I warn you." Issbelle said softly, between clenched teeth.

"You are not even good enough to record events of the worlds. Very much sad, really. To lose such a fabulous job to me…

"Shut up, Remnare! They chose you for that position on the sole basis that you would be useless everywhere else."

Remnare's smile turned from mocking to tired. "You are not possessing of people skills either, I see."

Athnee watched silently, too scared to speak. How could these two survive if they argued like this? She would have expected those whom recorded and created worlds to be less human, more alien. But they weren't. They fought, breathed and lived like a human. Perhaps, when the glory lost luster, life and all was said and done, this job really was boring.

Yet, here they stood, on a world that once was, arguing, fighting. It was her world, Athnee's world, and they didn't care. They simply fought harder, bit worse.

"Excuse me." Athnee began in a very small voice that somehow failed to express her anger.

Issbelle turned towards her. "What?" She hissed.

"How-How-" She said. "Never mind."

"Say it, girl!" She barked.

"How-Why," Athnee sighed. "How can you not get upset over...this...?" She weakly motioned to the everything around her, to the darkness and to the world.

"Easy. I just do," Issbelle said. "Unlike you, worthless girl."

"I'm not worthless..." She tried to strain her voice so that it sounded less squeaky, more determined. But in that bleak little none world, with all of her memories gone but all of her sadness very much there, her voice could be nothing but squeaky.

"You are only a living, breathing outlier on my statistics chart. You should be dead with the rest." Issbelle said.

"But I live! I'm a person, you know. I'm a person..."

"I did not deny that." Issbelle said..

"I'm-I'm-" Athnee paused. "I'm more than what you think I am. I really am!"

"Prove it." Issbelle replied.

"I prove it by being born." Athnee stated.

Issbelle snorted derisively.

"High aspirations you have for yourself there." Remnare said.

"I have feelings." Athnee said, her voice so desperate.

Issbelle bent down so that she was eye level with the girl. Her gaze was stony, perfectly emotionless and deeply contrasting to Athnee's wild, doe eyed look. "And you think that makes you somehow special?" She jerked herself away. "Remnare," Issbelle said. "This naïve little twit won't last a moment when presented before the World Council. We should do her a favor and leave her. Let her die here as she should've"

"Ah but you forget, you terrible harridan, that nobody does well when presented before the council. Especially..." Remnare stopped, allowing the word to hang in the air.

Issbelle scowled. "Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

"Especially you, Issbelle." He went on to say. "Don't you remember when they denied you as a scribe? What were the words they used?" He paused. "Oh yes, they said that you were a 'convulsed, antagonizing, bitter, artless, boorish representation of all we detest'" Remnare stopped, tapping his pen against his temples. "I can't say I don't agree with them."

With a tightened jaw, furrowed brow and clenched teeth, Issbelle gave Remnare a look that made Athnee shiver.

"I suppose you do fine in your current position…" Remnare said. "As well as a potent fool can."

"Oh. Ha ha. Bastard," Issbelle said. "A bastard who feels big and bad because he writes a few things down in a sad little book. Come on. No time for this. Let's get back to the Council with this little twit and be done with her."

Remnare nodded, smiling, fumbling with the lighted crystal in his hand. "One moment," He said. Something clicked. "There. One moment. Teleporting can be quite the disorientating experience."

The darkness filled with light and nothing but light until everything was so white that it hurt. Athnee, more than disoriented, fainted.

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