CHAPTER 3 - CHOSEN SOUL COHORT: COMPROMISED

  Levan fell.

  He fell across dimensions—and directions—that he couldn’t fully comprehend.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  There were other rivers—six other channels of concentrated illumination, bending and winding in all directions.

  Six.

  Levan counted six.

  The rivers coalesced, running alongside one another, joining, intertwining, bounding behind and falling ahead of one another like racing dogs, smiling in the sun.

  And, just like Levan was a passenger in his river of light, these other rivers held passengers, too.

  Six rivers, plus his own.

  Seven rivers of light. Seven passengers.

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort | 7/7 ]

  [ Warning: Extreme Danger ]

  The spiraling rivers joined closely with one another, spiraling like strands of DNA. Two rivers, in particular, were close enough to Levan for him to make out details.

  The first river was a mix of blue and brown, murky and greenish in color. The other shone with royal blue and gold.

  A crab-like creature spun in the murky brackish river—a crustacean that Levan had never seen anything quite like. It had six legs, a round, disc-like shell, and a pair of stalks that peeked out of slim holes on the top of the shell like periscopes.

  The royal blue river had an occupant, too.

  A mermaid.

  It’s a mermaid.

  The figure floating in the royal blue river looked almost human, but with skin the color of a coastal sea, with green gills at the ribs, and a pair of eyes slightly larger than his own, with hair of flowing red that poured out of her blue scalp. Below her gilled ribcage was a series of scales that merged and tapered off a powerful tail, with multicolored fins at the end.

  I’m floating in a river of extra-dimensional light, and I’m carpooling with a giant snow-crab and a mermaid.

  The woman looked at him, and her expression shifted to relief. That made Levan feel a little relieved, too. She smiled, even, and, despite the chaos, he managed to smile back. Tried to, at least. She pointed past him, at the crab, and Levan turned.

  The spider crab was flailing wildly, with four out of its six limbs spindling out in all directions, kicking madly, with the other two limbs covering its eyestalks in an unmistakable gesture of fear and terror.

  Levan tried to get its attention, to “swim” near its field of view. He moved closer and realized the stalks peering from the shell weren’t necessarily “peering” at all. The giant snow crab was blind.

  The poor thing was still frantically kicking.

  “Hey!” Levan called, and it spun immediately to face him.

  One of the limbs hugging itself cautiously moved, and one of the antennae extended.

  “Hi,” Levan said, almost laughing. He looked back at the mermaid, who smiled and nodded.

  “It’s okay,” Levan called to the spider-crab-thing. “You’re not alone.”

  The crab heard him, even over the rushing sound.

  Parts of the shell separated, clacking against the rest in bangs of various pitches.

  It repeated the series of clacks, and, though he was sure it wasn’t even close, Levan attempted to mimic the noises.

  It sounded like the world’s worst beatboxer.

  But the spider-crab-thing relaxed.

  There were other creatures—three more, Levan reasoned, but they were too far away for him to make out the details of.

  [ Warning: Extreme Danger ]

  Right, Levan thought.

  The extreme danger.

  Around him, the mermaid spun as if she’d received the same message, and the crab clacked nervously.

  [ Threat Detected ]

  An orange flow of Emberlaine bent down to join his, with a humanoid figure waist-deep in the rushing light. His skin was pale, with ears that arched and curved, extending at the top. His features were noble, with a blocky nose and brow amongst an otherwise delicate face.

  An elf. A straight-up elf.

  Levan tried to wave, tried to smile— but the elf in the orange flow was distracted. He was looking around frantically.

  There was a second entity in the orange Emberlaine. A shadow, barely visible, holding what looked like a sickle or scythe.

  Levan felt his stomach grow cold.

  The elf in the fiery orange light was trying to keep track of the shadow, turning to face it as it darted around him, and moved closer, helplessly trying to track its quick movements.

  Then the elf threw up both hands, lips uttering something Levan couldn’t hear. A small thin sphere of translucent blue surrounded him.

  Magic.

  That was magic.

  There was a spark against the blue sphere. Then a crack like broken glass, and the thin sphere shattered.

  “Hey!” Levan had yelled—had tried to yell.

  But it all just happened too fast.

  One moment, the man with the elven ears was looking at him as if he’d finally seen Levan, was finally paying attention to him.

  Then the shadowy streak crossed past the elf, who froze.

  They looked at one another, Levan and the elf.

  Then the elf’s torso fell backward, separating from the legs. When the orange Emberlaine diverged a moment later, the legs and waist diverged with it.

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  [ Chosen Soul Flight | 6/7 ]

  Levan’s eyes went wide.

  He turned back to the mermaid. Her light-river was already diverging from his, but she was close enough that he could still see her.

  She swam, her tail undulating in great, weighty beats, checking over her shoulders in terrified glances behind her.

  Levan tried to swim to her. Tried to swim to the edge of his own falling column, tried to breach his way into hers.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  But their paths were already too far diverged.

  The mermaid screamed. A few large air bubbles ballooned from her gasping mouth, and more tiny bubbles fled the ridges of her gills.

  A cloud of green blood erupted from her chest as a spearhead passed through her heart, and the mermaid went stiff.

  Her skin went from bluish green to white in an instant—a death-shock reaction, like every nerve was killed at once.

  It looked wrong to see her like that—stiff, pale, with veins of crimson rather than blue. He’d known her for, what—thirty seconds?

  That’s now how I want to remember you.

  Behind the mermaid’s spear-pierced corpse, her killer loomed.

  He had the long neck of an eel, the small, black eyes of a heartless ocean predator, punctuated by sharp teeth and a noseless face. The spear he held was blue like the sea.

  The plume of blood in the water disturbed the vision, and by the time the royal blue Emberlaine twisted away from his own, he could no longer see either the mermaid or the eel-man.

  Notifications from the Codex arrived in rapid succession then, as Emberlaines twisted and wound around each other, rising and falling, combining and detracting. It was too hectic to make out any details, but the Codex kept him abreast of the torrent of grim news.

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  [ Chosen Soul Flight | 5/7 ]

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  [ Chosen Soul Flight | 4/7 ]

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  [ Chosen Soul Flight | 3/7 ]

  We’re dropping like flies, Levan thought, panicked.

  The crab-thing was still next to him, and only then did Levan realize that it had been clacking frantically.

  “Hey!” Levan called, swimming back to it. His arms were tired. His legs. It took so much effort to cross just this small bit of space, and Levan had a feeling that it was because that “small” bit of space wasn’t really a small bit of space at all. The crab was just equalized down to Levan’s height. In reality, it might have been much bigger.

  Levan clacked to the crab, sure it was the equivalent of nonsense, but it didn’t matter. It was calming the thing. Letting it know it wasn’t alone.

  The crab reached out a spindly limb, covered in claw and spine.

  The two were so close. He could almost reach it.

  Then Levan saw the attacker, flowing up behind the crab.

  We all have our own assassin, Levan realized, eyes wide in horror.

  The thing sent to kill the crab was a metal mannequin, covered head to toe in smooth metal plates, including a faceplate shaped like a face, but with neither eyes nor even a mouth to breathe. It carried a long halberd, with a cruel and folded edge, perfect for splitting shells, along with metallic pincer-claws in the place of hands, that it used to cut rapidly through the water.

  “Behind you!” Levan cried.

  The crab clacked in confusion.

  Levan searched his mind, trying to reach the crab.

  An idea.

  Levan reached behind his own back with both hands and clapped a few times. The crab tilted a sound-stalk, almost like a puppy cocking their head in confusion.

  “Behind you!” Levan shouted again.

  He brought his hands in front of himself, clapped, then brought them behind his own back, and clapped again. “Behind you!”

  If it had sensitive enough ears to hear the difference in the claps, maybe it would—

  The crab reared back like he’d slapped it—it understood.

  The crab turned at the last second, withdrawing all six limbs into its shell. When the limbs came back out again, they were oriented towards the attacker, and already lunging forward to go on the offense.

  The faceless metal assassin swung the heavy halberd, which cracked against the limbs, passing through two of them and glancing off the shell. If Levan hadn’t warned it, that halberd would have cut the crab clean in half.

  Blood poured for a half instant from the limb wounds, then some biological mechanism kicked in as the crab-thing, seemingly voluntarily, let the limbs fall at the nearest formal segment.

  It flew at the metal attacker, swarming it with tiny claws that protruded from the newly severed limbs.

  Hell yeah, buddy, Levan thought.

  Then another thought occurred, this one with a sickening twist in his stomach.

  Where’s mine? Levan thought suddenly, as the crab fought against its attacker.

  Where’s mine?

  Levan spun, looking around frantically in all directions.

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  [ Chosen Soul Flight | 2/7 ]

  Levan’s heart stuck in place for a moment, and Levan was petrified that when he turned around, he’d find the crab dead. But the crab was still living, still fighting against the metal attacker. Both had new scars, and liquid mercury dripped from the holes the crab had pierced in its attacker’s smooth metal chest.

  Levan pulled his attention back to himself.

  Where’s mine?

  Where is my assassin?

  He didn’t have much time to consider it before the Codex sent him a new, terrible message.

  [ A Chosen Soul From Your Flight Has Eternally Perished ]

  No, Levan thought in dismay, turning back towards the crab. The metallic assassin managed to get a hand around each side of the spider crab’s shell.

  Then—

  Crack.

  The crab went limp, and the metal assassin let himself fall backwards into the drift, his task accomplished, and disappeared from sight.

  Levan swam over to the bleeding crab, hands extended.

  One limb was still shaking, still clacking with a tiny claw at the end.

  If he just reached a little farther…

  Levan spread his fingers, just barely holding the claw. It retreated on instinct, then when it felt his skin, it relaxed. A six-sectioned claw, like its six-limbed body. This was one of the small claws, from the limb that had been partially severed. Levan held onto it tightly, trying to be as reassuring as possible. It mimicked the soothing motions for a few seconds on his own fingers, careful not to cut with the sharp edges.

  Then it stopped, and Levan released the small claw as the dead crab’s river of light diverged from his own.

  [ Chosen Soul Flight |1/7 ]

  And then there was one, Levan thought, heart heavy and full of grief for this fleet of people he’d never met.

  The river of scarlet and golden light roared relentlessly on, as it had always roared—and Levan could hear nothing, see no hidden shapes within its depths. The other rivers still roared beside his own, but now hauntingly empty.

  He looked back to his own river.

  Then he saw it.

  He saw his assassin.

  So this is what they sent to kill me, Levan thought, steeling himself as his attacker took shape.

  His fist was clenched, his shoulders square—not that it would help any—as the assassin flowed towards him along the river.

  They sent a monster, Levan thought. For each of us, a monster.

  How do they choose?

  It was a minotaur—straight from Greek legend. Straight from the labyrinth, with hot breath and bloodshot, mad, bovine eyes.

  With one broken horn, one fully formed, wearing leather armor marked with runes and symbols, and carrying an axe of black steel, with a gleaming edge that aimed to cut him, chop him, sever him into chunks.

  It bounded towards him, a speed inconsistent with logical tracking as it traversed the river of light.

  Levan braced himself.

  Aren’t you going to try to fight? He asked himself.

  Try? Against that? How?

  The other voice had no answer.

  Levan thought of his mortal body, asleep in that lonely dorm, curled up and hugging himself.

  Hopefully, no assassins would come for that version of Levan. Not that the poor guy on Earth had much going for him, anyway.

  The minotaur grew closer.

  He had to try. Had to try to fight. It wasn’t going to work—it was quite literally without hope. But on principle, he had to try.

  He braced himself. He’d go for the eyes. What else was there to do?

  Go for the eyes, and go down fighting.

  “Levan!” a voice said in his head.

  “Levan!”

  It wasn’t in his head.

  It was…it was his own voice, but not in his own head.

  How was that possible?

  Unless—

  He turned, a series of angles and twists, until there it was—the passage back to Earth. The elongated tunnel of light, leading across time and space, connecting him to the dorm room.

  “Levan!”

  It was…himself. His body, back on earth. He had woken up. Earth Levan was leaning over the edge of the bed, staring down at him through eons and Emberlaines.

  “I’ll fight too,” the Levan on the bed called, a sad smile on his face. “Here on Earth. I’ll try. But you gotta promise me you’ll fight there, too. I think this is going to change everything for us.”

  Levan—the one in the river, the one he was, looked up at his Earthly companion.

  “You can see me?”

  “I see you,” Earth Levan called to him. “You can do it, Levan.”

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort | Nearing Arrival ]

  Ahead of him, the minotaur charged.

  “Catch!” Earth Levan called. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do, but it’s all I have…All we have!”

  Something soared through space, descending into the flow of golden, scarlet light.

  Then the tunnel closed.

  Axe held high, the minotaur closed in the last few feet.

  The object, thrown across dimensions from his earthly counterpart, flew past the minotaur, and with an outstretched hand, Levan caught it.

  Hardly a weapon.

  And against this thing?

  Almost useless.

  Almost.

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort | Arrival Imminent ]

  [ Important Message | Arrival Near Imminent ]

  [ Attempt To Survive ]

  AKA—‘hang on, we’re almost there’, Levan realized.

  He stiffened, squaring his shoulders.

  Levan began to spin the object in slow rotations, growing faster and faster. One hand gripped the top of the cord, the other held the bottom for stability.

  This would have to be a distraction play.

  It wouldn’t do any real damage--the goal was to earn a hesitation—to throw the minotaur off for a single, crucial second. He could do that, if his aim was true.

  If he hit the minotaur perfectly, and if his arrival was as close as the Codex was making it seem.

  No real damage—just enough hesitation to get him there.

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort | Nearing Arrival ]

  That’s the Codex, telling me my plan is a good one. Telling me to hang on.

  He rotated the object—a sling, an ancient weapon, winding up momentum.

  Faster and faster, he held the rotating sling at his side, the river of light keeping him stable as he stared down the charging minotaur.

  Gold and scarlet light flowed around his legs, as solar winds whipped at his hair.

  This has to work.

  He felt power gather around him, lap at him, surround him like the tide.

  Power.

  [ Chosen Soul ]

  He swung the object on its cord faster and faster, faster and faster, until it was just a blur.

  Now.

  Levan let go.

  The digital alarm clock sailed across the river of light, its electric cord whipping back behind it.

  The minotaur brought up the haft of the axe, flinching as the alarm clock struck his face, stopping its sprint and turning its shoulder defensively as it digested just what sort of projectile had struck him.

  And that was it.

  That was enough time.

  Levan’s heart hammered in his chest as the distance between him and the minotaur stretched exponentially.

  It tried to hurl the axe, but the path was already diverging, and Levan turned to watch as the axe rotated harmlessly through the empty space beyond the Emberlaines.

  The minotaur roared, isolated and separated, alarm clock dangling where the electrical cord had wrapped around one of the horns.

  Did we make it? Levan asked as the minotaur disappeared from sight.

  Levan stared down the final mouth of the tunnel, as everything around him closed into darkness.

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort | 1/7 ]

  [ ERROR: Insufficiency Detected ]

  [ Chosen Soul Cohort Compromised ]

  [ Initiating Renewed Chosen Soul Search ]

  [ Initiating Renewed Chosen Soul Cohort ]

  [ Error Initiating Renewed Chosen Soul Search | Chosen Soul Flight, 1/7 ]

  [ Error: Chosen Soul Status Unknown ]

  Then, an incoming light.

  [ Chosen Soul | Arrival ]