Chapter Twenty: First Impressions

I woke up feeling incredibly groggy. I remember dreaming about seeing Theo on the Battlefield, dressed in some crazy-awesome blue highlander's getup. That'd been weird. And had he been the one controlling all that wind? And that beard!

Okay, it'd been a pretty awesome dream. But what the hell was Theo doing on the Battlefield? He wasn't a Prospit dreamer, so how'd he even get there? I had no idea, and I wouldn't be able to find out for a while.

"C'mon, Scales, what the hell?" I murmured as the red-scaled cobra shook me awake. It was still dark. The only noise was the soft tap tap tap of the rain. "Woke me up in the middle of a dream…"

"My apologiess," Glimmering Scales said in a clearly unapologetic tone. "I sspotted two individualss following the trackss of the Lifebeasst herd. They are not Northernerss, nor are they my people."

"Wonderful, tell them I said hi," I grumbled, turning back over and closing my eyes. Then I instantly reopened them, a wave of energy surging through my veins. "Wait… Do you mean…?"

"Yess."

Well, hot damn, Scales had been right. Two consorts who weren't of the Northern or Western Fires… I mean, all you had to do was use process of elimination. While I'd hoped Scales had been right about his hunch concerning the buffalo herd, I honestly hadn't expected it to go according to plan this smoothly. I mean, I'm glad that it was, and everything…just pleasantly surprised.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. It was raining lightly, but I barely noticed. I've been using my Vis to redirect the rain for weeks, now—eventually you just learn to ignore it. And the thing about the rain of this planet was that it would get really heavy only once in a while. Most of the time, it was simply a very light, very manageable shower.

It was impossible for us to track the two consorts Scales had spotted. They were cobras, after all—snakes don't exactly leave footprints. But that didn't matter. Scales and I got right back to it, following the tracks of the buffalo. We pushed hard—me sprinting my ass off, propelled along slightly by my Aspect, while Scales flew across the grassy hills right alongside me. He wasn't actually flying, obviously—he was moving in that strange, sideways motion that sidewinders were so famous for.

That wasn't very cobra-like of him, but who was I to judge? My consorts did a lot of things that weren't very cobra-like.

It wasn't until morning, when the daylight returned, that we finally spotted the buffalo herd. We'd been going at a breakneck pace, trying to catch up with those consorts Scales had seen earlier. The Golden Grasses was a savanna, but its topography comprised of tall ranges of gentle, rolling hills, separated by large stretches of flat grasslands and light woods. We had to make our way over one of those hilly regions before reaching the plain beyond, where we spotted the tail end of the giant herd of buffalo.

And the two mysterious consorts. I couldn't really get a good look at them from this distance, but I could tell they were definitely giant cobras. They were on the far side of this valley, steadily following the progress of the sea of buffalo. They seemed to spot us, however, and promptly vanished over the edge of those hills, heading further to the east.

Scales hissed something unpleasant under his breath. "They have sspotted uss," the red-scaled cobra declared. "If we lose them now, we will never find them again."

"Then we better not lose them."

We both sprinted. Down the hillside we stood atop and into the grassy, wooded expanse between hills that the buffalo had just passed through mere minutes ago. Once or twice, I nearly lost my footing when I almost stepped in a mound of buffalo shit. There was a lot of buffalo shit lying around. It took us nearly ten minutes to reach the other side of the valley, and we were both huffing and puffing by the time we hoofed it up the hillsides…

…only to see the two mysterious consorts disappearing over another ridge, across the next valley.

God fucking damn it.

Scales did not even blink. He paused long enough to catch sight of the two elusive consorts, then immediately started making his way downhill again. I followed him. This was getting ridiculous—even Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli would want to be taking a breather right about now. But we couldn't afford to stop and catch our collective breath.

And so, we ended up running our asses off through the next stretch of tall grass and trees. This valley was slightly larger than the last, and there were two creeks that meandered their way through the grassy corridor. The first one, fortunately for us, happened to be narrow enough at the point where we reached it for us to simply leap across to the other side. The second creek, however, was larger than the first, and we got a little wet.

I mean, I probably could've used my Aspect to fly right over the water, but that would have taken energy. Energy which I already desperately needed in order to keep up with Scales.

Then we got to the hill. My feet were beginning to throb as we pounded our way up the hillside. I found myself feeling slightly grateful that, even though I'd completely failed at most things in my gym classes, I'd always been very good at running. Had I not already been a good runner, I wouldn't have made it half the distance we've already traveled. But everyone has their limits, and I could feel myself rapidly approaching mine.

I focused on keeping my breathing steady, trying to calm my hungry lungs, which were busy sucking down air like a drowning man who just grabbed hold of a life preserver. Then I was jarred out of my concentration by the spear tip that nearly went through my face.

They'd been waiting for us. And by 'they', I mean the two dozen or so plains consorts. Yeah, not the two consorts who we'd been following. I mean the two dozen consorts. The two consorts we'd been following, and all of their friends who'd been waiting for us on the other side of the hill. Scales instantly started to attack, but stopped himself at the last possible instant upon recognizing his assailants as fellow cobra-consorts.

The plains consorts looked similar to the people of the Western Fires, but there were some subtle differences. They seemed to have smaller, more slanted eyes, as well as wider neck hoods. Their scales were lighter colors, no doubt due to the warmer climes of the Golden Grasses, compared to the forests or the northlands. Cyan, green, and yellow, for the most part. There was even a white-scaled cobra in the group.

And every one of them had their weapons leveled at us. But if they'd wanted us dead…

"Your futuress are very uncertain, today," a white-scaled cobra, who seemed to be the one in charge, spoke up. "One falsse move, and your livess are forfeit."

"There iss no need for hosstility," Scales lowered his sword and laid it down onto the ground. "We come in peace."

"Yeah, yeah, please don't forfeit any lives, here," I added. I didn't have my Roman Bowie out, so I just held up my hands with my palms facing out. "I'd really like my life to remain un-forfeited."

I probably could've taken these guys in a fight…but they were my consorts. I wasn't supposed to be fighting them. And killing them probably wasn't the best way to make them follow me and the Western Fires against Hyperion. Yeah, I'm a warrior-class, but sometimes I still have to use my head.

"You both sstill draw breath for one reason, and one reason only," the white-scaled consort continued. "Many dark oness and underlingss have tresspassed here, attempting to ssully our ssacred Lifebeast herdss. We have dealt with them as we would deal with any thief. You, however, had many chancess to ssteal from the herd…yet you did not act upon them. I would know the reason why."

Scales and I glanced at each other, both of us thinking the same thing. Scales had attempted to hunt for buffalo several times for dinner, but he'd never succeeded. Perhaps if he had, these plains consorts would not have even bothered to say hi to us. They'd have simply killed us without a second thought.

"We weren't after the Lifebeasts, Mr. White Dude," I tried to explain. "We were looking for the Desert Fires…you guys are from the Desert Fires, right?"

The white-scaled cobra hissed. "Sso Hyperion iss finally trying to ssniff uss out, again? He should have ssent more than two underlingss."

"We are not underlingss," Scales insisted.

As Scales went on to explain how he was not a servant of Hyperion, I ended up chuckling quietly to myself. The white-scaled cobra noticed this and leveled his spear at me, the tip of the ridiculously sharp weapon nearly touching my throat. "Am I amusing you, tresspasser?"

"No, not you," I quickly clamped down on my chuckling, regaining control of myself. "It's just… It's just funny how Scales, here, thought I was an underling when I first arrived, and now when he goes to someone else's backyard they think he's an underling… Sorry, it's just pretty, uh…pretty funny. Okay, I'll shut up, now."

The white-scaled consort was not amused. "We sspared you out of curiossity, but you make my patience wear thin. Give me one good reason why I should not sslit your throatss and be done with you."

I started to speak, but Scales glared daggers at me. Shut the hell up and let me do the talking, his look said. I was happy to oblige him—that white-scaled fellow didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. And I never mixed well with humorless people.

"My name iss Glimmering Scales, of Clan Nathair," Scales introduced himself. "We are the ssame people."

The white-scaled consort looked doubtful. "There iss little my people have in common with the Treefolk. Your people never leave their foresstss, not even to help their neighborss."

Scales bared his fangs, a low hiss issuing from his throat. "My people warned your people to retreat to the Sands, where Hyperion could not follow. You did not lissten. You sstood and fought. And you died. Do not blame my people for the shortssightedness of your own."

Yeah, I guess that was one of Scales's flaws. He's still a pretty young dude—about the equivalent of a guy in his early twenties. And he has a bit of a temper problem. One of the reasons why his father had sent him with me in the first place was because, although he was extremely skilled with his Vis, he lacked patience. And it would take a lot of patience to teach someone like me.

Scales was much better now than he'd been at first. I guess we both needed some time to get used to each other before we were able to stop constantly fighting. But while Scales's fuse wasn't quite as short as it used to be…it was still pretty damn short. And insulting his clan was one surefire way to set him off.

"I'm the Knight."

I figured now was the best time to interrupt.

The white-scaled consort gave a sharp, loud, quick hiss that sounded like a snort. "You're the Knight, you ssay? Now I have heard it all… I ssee now that ssparing your lives hass been nothing more than a wasste of time," the white-scaled cobra muttered. He then turned to two of his kinsmen. "Itzli, Acalan; take their sscalpss. Leave the resst for the Lifebeasstss."

The two consorts started to slither forward, their swords at the ready. Before Scales could even go for his weapon, though, I held up a hand, and the two consorts suddenly found themselves unable to move. Yeah, what now, bitches? Didn't I tell them I was the Knight? Didn't I tell them?

The two consorts looked extremely confused, since they could clearly see that Scales wasn't the one restraining them. I could feel them fighting against my telekinetic grip, but I was easily able to hold them in check. I can't really explain it—ever since I learned how to make my own fire, my Aspect has been a lot easier to use. If my Aspect were a physical muscle, it was feeling pretty buff. Again, it's really hard to explain how something like this feels.

Upon seeing their two kinsmen immobilized and disarmed, the rest of the gathered consorts let out a collective yell and started to charge us, but I took a deep breath and snapped my fingers. A large ball of crackling, blistering-hot fire sprang into existence above my hand, pulsing with heat in rhythm with my heartbeat.

The charging consorts all drew back, startled by the sudden conflagration—control of fire seemed to be a rare thing, from what Scales told me, possessed only by those who had the deepest understanding and mastery of the Force Aspect. I didn't necessarily possess either of those qualities—I just seemed to have a supercharged Vis. That was probably part of being a Knight, or a Hero in general. And from the consorts' perspective, seeing a completely alien creature suddenly pull a giant fireball out of his ass with the ease of an old master…well, if I'd been in their shoes, I'd probably have been a bit startled, too.

Of course, they don't wear shoes because they're goddamn cobras… Boy, this really gets frustrating, sometimes. Metaphors just don't have the same flair when applied to snake people.

The white-scaled cobra was the only one who did not flinch at my little display. Instead, he surprised me with an attack of his own…an attack which completely smashed the fuck through my Vis and ensnared me, all within half a second. Glimmering Scales was the only opponent I was used to, and while the red-scaled cobra was highly skilled with his Vis, he was still young. The white-scaled cobra was much older, and his strength with the Force Aspect much more powerful. Still more powerful than mine.

I fought against the white-scaled cobra's grip, and I think I might've broken through it if I had enough time. The key word being enough. Turns out, I didn't have any time. The moment he felt me start to resist, the white-scaled cobra forced me down to my knees, slithering up to me and regarding me almost like a scientist would a puzzling specimen.

"What an interessting creature you are, foreigner," the white-scaled cobra remarked to me.

Then he struck me in the back of the head with the tip of his tail, knocking me out cold to the sound of Scales's angry protests.

"Hey, hey, he's finally awake!"

I opened my eyes to the sight of a green ceiling and the smell of pinewood. At first, I thought I was back in my dream room on Prospit, but I quickly realized that this wasn't true. Prospit hadn't smelled like pine. And while this room had four windows on each side, like on Prospit, the room itself was cylindrical in shape. One long, curved wall.

And I had a dream computer here, as well. I guess I hadn't needed to grab my iphone, after all… But still, I guess it might come in handy when I wasn't able to access the main computer. Another difference I noticed was the presence of a winding stone staircase that descended down through the floor, and a stone ladder that climbed up through a hole in the ceiling to the level above.

And hovering in the sky outside one of my windows was none other than Theo Gibbons, still dressed in his crazy awesome blue highlander's getup. He gave me a wave and pointed upwards, gesturing for me to follow as he floated up past the window.

I swung myself out of bed and hopped over to the stone ladder, climbing it up through my dream chamber's ceiling, through several feet of solid, greenish-gray stone. Then I emerged on top of what I instantly recognized as a stone castle turret, complete with a crenellated parapet.

As I looked around and got my bearings, I could see that my dream turret was connected to a giant white and golden keep that glimmered in the daylight. And the keep was simply the innermost structure of a huge castle with white walls, gleaming towers and halls, golden Prospitian banners fluttering in the wind. Prospitians filled the streets below, bustling about their day-to-day activities, while the Royal Guard stood watch.

Beyond the castle walls, I could see great, rolling hills and grassy expanses, stretching off into the distance. The ground underneath the grass appeared as giant squares of black and white earth, like a natural chessboard. Mountain ranges could be spotted in the moderate distance. I was on the Battlefield, that much was obvious…but where?

Theo sank down from the air, setting foot on my dream turret's roof. He sprinted over to me and proceeded to nearly crack my ribcage in a massive bear hug. Man, Theo had always been strong, but Jesus… "Shit, man, how've you been?" my best friend finally released me, allowing me to gasp for long-deprived breath. "I haven't seen you since that weekend at Cruz's! And damn, you're really lettin' your sideburns grow in, aren't ya?"

I absentmindedly tugged at the tufts of hair which had steadily been growing out of the sides of my face. Theo was right—they were getting to be longer than I usually let them grow. In fact, the rest of my hair was beginning to get a bit longer than normal as well. I'd probably have to go about cutting it sometime in the near future. "My hair hasn't exactly been the first thing on my mind…" I shrugged.

"Yeah, neither has mine!" Theo ran a hand across his smooth scalp, obviously loving the absence of his hair. "Honestly, I don't miss it."

"Hey, sometimes bald is the way to go. Captain Sisko from Deep Space Nine understood that." I was still kind of getting my bearings, as well as slightly unsteady on my feet and a little bit nauseous. I stepped gingerly over to the parapet and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths as I looked out over the rest of the giant golden-white castle. I could feel the soft breeze as Theo floated over next to me.

"Sorry, bro, I'm really glad to see you, it's just…" I could only give another shrug. "I kinda feel like shit, right now, and I dunno why."

"Probably because you were shot by a Dersite energy rifle."

I remembered, suddenly, how I'd nearly been seared by energyfire as I was screaming down from the sky towards the ambush on the Prospitian supply convoy. Then the Dersite tank's machinegun turret had opened fire on me, and I'd been nicked by one of the opening shots. It'd hurt, but I was able to ignore the pain until the fight was over.

"I wasn't shot; I was grazed," I corrected my friend.

Theo let out a short laugh. "Bro, I know shot when I see it. You were shot. Lost a little chunk of yourself, there! Nearly lost part of your stomach, too!"

Without a second thought, I looked down at myself and realized that a good part of the left side of my golden Prospit shirt was a patch, stitched on to cover a massive hole left by some sort of weapon… I lifted up my shirt far enough to see where I'd been grazed, and was horrified to see a good-sized scar splashed across the left side of my lower ribcage. It was a burn mark, completely healed over…but certainly not going anywhere. How the hell had I managed to fight off all those Dersite soldiers with a fucking chunk of me missing?

You're a goddamn Knight. Knights can get sliced up within an inch of their lives, and they can still keep right on going.

The words of my Sprite wormed their way back into my consciousness. This wasn't the first time I'd found myself able to keep on steamrolling through obstacles after sustaining horrible wounds. The Hegemonic Brute's assassination attempt on me sprang to mind. Or the time I was able to fight my way up to my first gate, even after falling over a hundred feet to the ground below.

"Eh, don't sweat it too much," Theo chuckled, landing a playful punch on my shoulder. "The chicks'll probably dig it."

"How'd you heal it? Is Tami here, somewhere?"

"Tami?" Theo shook his head. "Hell no, man, Tami's fucking around with those giant crystals on her planet, and her dream self's on Prospit with Cruz. Someone else healed you."

"Yeah, uh, which leads me to my next question…where exactly is here? And if you just say 'the Battlefield', I will punch you."

Theo, who'd probably been about to say The Battlefield, closed his mouth, rethought his answer. When he spoke again, he said, "This is your dream turret, bro. All you Prospit dreamers have one here, but you never use them unless you journey to Skaia. And that over there is the White Keep," Theo pointed to the keep to which the turret was attached. "We're in the middle of the White King's Castle, bro!"

I looked back out over the castle with new eyes, seeing it for what it really was. "The White King?" I murmured. I'd always known there was a White King. White Queen, White King. I knew the King was never on Prospit, though—he was always busy fighting off the Black King's army on the Battlefield, while the White Queen ruled at home. Fighting a war he was apparently destined to lose. Still, I knew barely anything about him, and now here I was, all of a sudden…waking up in his castle.

Wow.

"Yeah, bro, the White King," Theo nodded. "He's been out on campaign for a few days, but he's supposed to return before nightfall. He's a pretty cool guy, I think you'll like him. You feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I turned around and sat down on top of the parapet, rather than continuing to lean against it. "Was it the King who healed me?"

"Uh-huh," Theo nodded again. "I have to say, the King is absolutely terrifying in battle…but his most powerful ability is actually a healing spell. Kinda ironic…but also pretty damn lucky, in your case! You would've died without it! Well, your dream self, at least—you'd still be fine. Just minus a dream self… Uh, why don't I show you my place?"

Theo followed me back down the ladder and into my dream turret. We then took the stairs that descended down through the floor. They spiraled around in a full circle before morphing into a corridor that obviously connected my turret with the rest of the White Keep. And the interior of the White Keep… The stone from which the Keep was constructed was white with a slightly golden sheen, and it almost seemed to have a glow of its own. This glow was probably similar to the violet glow of the clouds on my planet—it was much more pronounced at nighttime, when it was dark.

This corridor ran for a good length, taking us to a large central chamber. The chamber had several transportalizer pads in the center and four corridors branching out in all four directions, including the one Theo and I were emerging from. Mine was the western one. Above each of the corridors was a symbol. A white galaxy, a green sapling, a red gear, and an amber-orange crashing wave.

Space, Life, Time, and Force. The Aspects of the four Prospit dreamers. I guess my leaving Prospit was actually a normal part of this game. Maybe Prospit dreamers were meant to leave Prospit, at some point. The same did not seem to hold true for the Derse dreamers, however—there were no dream turrets here for Cass and the others…so how the hell did Theo end up here?

Theo led me down the Space corridor, which eventually emerged into a cyan-hued dream turret that smelled of sage. This was Cruz's tower. Or would've been Cruz's, if he still had a dream self to spare.

"This is where I've been living," Theo gestured all around to the room we were in, switching on the Xbox and tossing me one of the controllers. "It's Cruz's place, but he's living on Prospit fulltime, now, so the King just let me move right on in. I'm just glad it has an Xbox! You feelin' some…hm… We got Left 4 Dead, we got the Halos, we have the Call of Duties…"

"Does he have World at War?" I asked, grabbing the beanbag chair and plopping down.

"Does he have World at War, he asks," Theo chuckled, pulling Call of Duty 5 from the cabinet underneath the TV, slotting it into the Xbox.

While I wasn't necessarily the biggest Call of Duty fan, I absolutely loved World at War. It basically combined the awesome graphics of Call of Duty 4—relative to previous installments, at least—and the World War II setting of all the earlier games. But it was also the first game of the franchise to delve into the Pacific Theatre of World War II—all other games had focused on Europe and fighting the Nazis, but World at War introduced the Japanese as a new opponent…and man they were frustrating to fight against!

Theo selected one of the Russian missions, and the TV screen resolved into the opening cinematic of the level, narrated by the grizzled, battle-hardened Sergeant Reznov, who served as the friend and mentor of the protagonist. "Can you believe that's Gary Oldman?" Theo asked me, gesturing at the TV. I could only assume that by gesturing at the TV, he meant Reznov's voice. "Man, that guy is just incredible! I always thought of him as just Commissioner Gordon, then I find out that he's actually been in a ton of shit that I've already seen, and I just never realized!"

I didn't answer, and we both settled into a slightly uncomfortable silence, which continued on until long after Theo and I fought our way through the wheat fields, fending off several German tanks in the process. It wasn't until that final tank brewed up in flames that Theo paused the game and called me out.

"Okay, dude, you gotta tell me what's bothering you," he said to me. "I sure as hell ain't gonna sit through an hour of awkward silence over Call of Duty, man, so you might as well spill the beans."

"What happened to you?" I laid down my controller, finally asking my best friend the thing that had been gnawing at me ever since his sudden reappearance into my life. "What the hell happened to you, bro? I mean, Gino mentioned you being in danger, then you just magically end up on the Battlefield? Aren't Derse dreamers not supposed to end up on the Battlefield until the end of the game?"

Theo blinked. "That's what's been bothering you? Don't you know what the god tiers are?"

I arched an eyebrow, not understanding what he was talking about. "The what?"

"The god tiers," Theo blinked again, clearly seeing that I wasn't following. "You seriously don't know anything about the god tiers? Fuck, that's right, I keep forgetting-"

"Yeah, yeah, you keep forgetting that my sprite is a psychopath," I grumbled for the umpteenth time, tired of having my friends always reacting to my general ignorance with surprise before realizing that I didn't fucking have anyone to fucking teach me any of this shit. I've kinda been learning everything on the fly.

Theo frowned at my interruption. "Your sprite's not really a psychopath, bro," my best friend seemed keen to point out. "He's exactly like you, only just…angrier…and sadder. More sad. Is sadder a word?"

"Yeah, it's a fucking word," I grunted, picking up my controller and resuming the game.

It was also kinda irritating when everyone would be so quick to point out how my Sprite apparently wasn't a psycho. Well, they weren't there when he was created. None of them had to fend off any sudden, rage-filled murder attempts from my Sprite. They could all just suck it.

"Sorry, I've just been hearing some…things…about my sprite and Cass, and I still haven't been able to contact her, yet, and… I mean… Fuck," I swore as my Call of Duty character received a faceful of German potato-masher. Theo's character had to run over and revive me before we could continue.

"There's nothing between them, dude," Theo reassured me. "I mean… I mean c'mon, he's a cool guy, but he's a sprite. Would he even have a dick, anymore?"

"I guess not…" I murmured, which could really have answered either of Theo's questions, though I failed to specify which. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Right, the god tiers…uh…" Theo paused the game again. "Sorry, I'm not much of a multitasker. When you learn key fundamentals about your Aspect, or when you complete tasks that tie into your quest, you climb your echeladder. You know how you keep thinking of a weird-ass ladder when you're tearing shit up? Bright colorful rungs with random names? I mean, it ain't like you're actually thinking about it…it just kinda pops up in the back of your mind."

I remembered the ladder. "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask Gwen about that… Glad to know I'm not going crazy."

"Nope, not crazy at all! Yeah, that's your echeladder, and… I think it doesn't really have any purpose other than to show you how far you have progressed with your Aspect, almost like a leveling system. The better you get with your Aspect, the higher you climb on the echeladder. And when it reaches the top…well, that just means you've become about five kinds of badass with your Windy shit. Or Forcey shit, in your case. But there is a way to continue to progress beyond the top of the echeladder…and that's the god tiers."

"Oo-kay…" I said slowly, trying to wrap my mind around everything Theo was explaining.

"Sorry, dude, I'm terrible at explaining complicated shit…uh…"

"No, you're doing fine," now it was my turn to be the reassuring one. "Echeladder, colorful rungs, god tiers. Got it!"

Theo gave me a doubtful look for a few seconds, but continued his explanation anyway. "When you reach the god tiers…well… I mean, you pretty much become a god. Complete mastery over your Aspect, a ridiculous power boost…and immortality."

Now that caught my attention. "Immortality?" I echoed.

"Biologically, at least," Theo replied. "Gwen told me that you'll live forever, unless you die a death that could be considered either heroic or just. If you die a death that really isn't either of those, then you just…self-revive, somehow, I guess. I dunno, this is really complicated shit, and I'm doin' a terrible job of explaining... You should really talk to Gwen about it, not me. But yeah…that's what happened to me. I went god tier. And that's how I ended up with these cool-ass clothes!"

"Yeah, the skirt suits you."

"It's a kilt, and you know it."

"Are you wearing it like a kilt is supposed to be worn?"

Theo didn't even blink. "Unless you want to go homo and take a look, that'll just have to be a mystery."

"So… You're immortal, then," I said, still having trouble grasping the concept. "You… You're gonna live forever?"

"Seems that way…"

"Okay…okay, then," I paused to clear my throat, blinking rapidly several times. Theo? Immortal? What the fuck? "You're immortal. Okay. Uh… Wow…"

"Yeah, that was my reaction," Theo grunted. "I didn't exactly choose this, so…kind of a surprise, you know?"

"I'll say…"

Another silence.

We continued to play through the Call of Duty mission we'd selected, steadily blowing our way through waves of fascist pigs until we reached the end of the level. We then continued on to the next mission, which—god damn it all—was an American campaign level, which meant—god damn it all—we were going to be fighting the Japanese. And I've already mentioned how much the Japanese AIs pissed me off.

"So…" Theo interrupted the gruff, war-weary tones of Kiefer Sutherland's pre-mission narrative. "We're still bros, right? I mean, like… Nothin's changed, or anything?"

And in that moment I knew that yeah, maybe Theo's appearance had changed, and maybe he was even immortal, all of a sudden, like he claimed…and maybe he'd gotten a bit of a confidence boost… But he was still the same old Theo underneath that insane Breathy highlander's getup.

"Theo, you really think something as dumb as immortality could get in the way of one of the world's most epic bromances?" Theo didn't breathe a sigh of relief, but I could plainly tell he was glad the awkwardness wasn't in the air, anymore. "Okay, so I have to ask... Did reaching the god tiers… Is that why you're…ehm…"

"Not fat, anymore? Was that what you were gonna say?" Theo arched an eyebrow at me.

I didn't take the bait—I've known him for too long. He always used to purposefully make me feel awkward whenever I mentioned something that could be even remotely related to his weight. That is, until I wised up to the act. "That's exactly what I was gonna say. Where'd your tits go?"

"Oh, fuck you-"

I barely had time to register Theo's fist before it suddenly connected with my jaw, sending me flying off the beanbag chair. It didn't really hurt—I knew that Theo could probably dislocate my entire face if he actually put any strength behind his blows—but it was still enough to make me see a few stars.

Never shying from a fight, I sprang back to my feet and managed to tackle Theo by throwing all my weight into his waist. We grappled for a few seconds, each trying to throw the other off, but Theo managed to work one of his arms around the back of my neck, clamping down in a vice-like headlock. I flailed around, trying to free myself, but Theo was too strong. Sure, I could have kicked his ass with my Vis if I wanted, but we weren't actually fighting. That would have been a little overboard. Finally, I had to let myself go limp and admit defeat. Theo released me.

"Wondered if you were gonna let that one slide," I chuckled, rubbing the slightly sore spot on my jaw.

"No sir," Theo replied. "And no is the answer to your question; going god tier didn't change the way I look. Learning all this Windy stuff was just a workout!"

"Well, I hope you realize that the only thing this means is that now I have to go god tier," I pointed out. "Then we can both be immortal. The bromance that never ends."

"I hope that never happens to you…"

"Huh?"

For a moment, Theo's grin slipped, and he looked straight at me. "You have to die to reach the god tiers, bro. You have to die. I don't want you to die."

I slammed the start button on my controller, pausing the game once again. "You fucking died?"

"I'm fine, man, I'm fine," Theo waved me off. "This is my dream self's body…"

"Well, spill it!" I demanded. "What the fuck happened to you? And better yet, maybe you can explain exactly why Gino decided to fucking 'Prince of Mind' me the other night…"

"It's a pretty long story," Theo said.

"I've got nothing but time."

"Okay, then… Uh… Where do I start?" Theo absentmindedly stroked his goatee. I could tell how much he loved having the facial hair there. "I really had no idea what was happening—I was dreaming on Derse at the time. After the purge, the Archagent tossed me and Dream Cass into the dungeons, and Gino-"

Before Theo could finish, there was a loud horn blast that echoed its way into the dream turret from outside. Then after it subsided, it sounded off once more. I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the nearest window. "Two blasts for wildlings?" I suggested.

"The White King's back," Theo shut off the Xbox and rose to his feet. "C'mon, bro, he's gonna want to meet you."