Shades Of Forever

I wake the next morning before my alarm, false-dawn light barely illuminating the mechanical hands of my parents' clock. I slept restlessly, dreams filled with half-remembered conflict, and I'm not sure if waking is better than dreaming. A soft drizzle whispers outside, the last remnants of the previous night's storm.

You know I can adjust your body's chemistry to wake you up after a specific amount of time, right?

I stumble groggily to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

"...I didn't know that. You never told me."

Well now you know.

I pat my face and hands dry, then pause as a thought occurs to me.

"Box?"

Yes, Sky?

"Why haven't I needed to use the bathroom in the past four days?"

Wasting resources is inefficient. Why, do you want to?

I shake my head and sigh. Looks like it's going to be one of those days. I return to my room and get dressed, then walk down the hallway to rouse the others. Broom said the funeral would be at dawn, so we'll need to leave soon. We're going to lay Great Grandpa to rest in the clearing, alongside the tree I planted in memory of Wires. In hundreds of years, they'll help heal the wound in the forest I created.

Assuming everything we've planned for today works.

The other three wake in various states of surliness, Huckens the most difficult to raise. Dark circles underline his drooping eyelids, and he won't stop yawning. Eventually, I get him up and moving, and he joins MacWillie and Violet downstairs for a quick breakfast of cold cereal. After everyone finishes, I clean the dishes in the sink, taking a long look around the kitchen, trying to etch everything in my mind. This might be the last time I ever see it again. I distribute waxed raincoats to everyone, MacWillie's comically small on her giant frame, and then we leave the house.

Broom is waiting outside, long coat held tight against the predawn chill and damp, hood up around her face. Wordlessly we follow her across the village and into the surrounding forest, solemn groups of people joining as we go. By the time we reach the clearing, it feels like nearly the entire community surrounds me, soft conversations no louder than the whispering leaves overhead and the last wispy sheets of rain.

The wreckage of the Hellhound dominates the open space, but that's not what catches my eye. Butterfly Builder and the two Builders from the other night are standing next to an excavated trench, shovels jutting from the pile of muddy dirt alongside it, steam wafting from their heads and shoulders. A white-shrouded form lies on the opposite side, unmoving, a small wooden box atop its chest.

People file around me into the clearing, forming a ring around the tree planting site, but I can't move. Can't tear my eyes from that too-small shape, the gaping emptiness next to it that matches the chasm in my heart.

Great Grandpa.

A lifetime passes before me, waves of memory crashing against the shores of my mind. All I want to do is watch them tumble and roll, an endless ocean of love and pain and hurt and hope.

Broom nudges my arm gently, and I realize the clearing has fallen silent, everyone waiting for me to begin the tree planting ceremony. There's no judgement in their expressions, no impatience, and it gives me the strength to take the first step forward, then the next, wet grass licking at my feet. An eternity later, I'm standing over Great Grandpa's empty shell, the gaping trench revealed from this angle to be no more than two scrumbles deep, some thin puddles at the bottom. I pick up the box containing the heartseed nursery and cradle it to my chest.

Window Doctor steps up beside me, then kneels over the shrouded body. With a practiced hand, he slices through the crabroach silk directly over the body's heart, revealing an already prepared hollow. My fingers barely trembling, I open the box and extract the heartseed from within, laying it softly in the gap. Window stitches the cloth neatly back in place, then steps away. I lift from the shoulder area, Butterfly from the feet, and together we drop the too-light form into its final resting place.

A tree's new birthplace.

Butterfly and the two builders begin rhythmically shoveling wet dirt back into the trench as I step away, and I look around at all the gathered faces. I take a breath, and then I let myself remember.

I speak the life of the person I loved. The way he helped me grow from a barely capable toddler to a mildly functional young adult. His love for our shared and shattered history, the desires that brought us together, the demons that drove us apart. His unwavering commitment to teaching so that those same mistakes were always remembered and hopefully avoided

I speak about the small things. His irrepressible delight when one of the little ones made a breakthrough in their lessons. His fondness for stove circles and shimmerfruit-topped Glowbeast. His idle hours spent whittling at discarded branches, bringing forth fantastic shapes from gnarled wood until his hands grew too weak to move the blade.

I speak about the pain. The times I would catch him staring blankly into the fire, a picture of my parents in his hands. The frustration as his body slowly failed, taking away his mobility and motivations piece by piece. The sharp words when it became too much to bear, the sincere apologies that followed.

I speak his life as I experienced it until there is nothing left to say, and then I step away from the now-covered grave, the cradle that will birth new life, the clouds clearing overhead.

Broom steps up to take my place, and begins speaking his life once more.

I fade back into the crowd, numb and exhausted. Bodies shift around me, and then a solid presence is at my side.

"Aye," MacWillie sniffs, brushing a tear away from her eye, "that was a beautiful eulogy, young Sky. I reckon a person couldn't wish for more."

"...'m sorry," Huckens mutters behind her, eyes downcast and boot kicking absently at the sticky dirt. "...hope you're okay."

"Yeah, it's a drag," Violet agrees, Corgia panting in her arms. "How long is this gonna take?"

"Until Great Grandpa's tree sprouts. He was very old, so it will be at least a few hours."

Violet huffs but doesn't say anything more, and we settle in to listen to the speakers. Butterfly Builder takes Broom's place once she's finished, followed by Water Breeder, then the other village elders. As Needle Crafter is recounting a favorite memory, MacWillie and Violet both stiffen, followed a second later by Huckens.

"What's going on?" I whisper.

"The incog field is finished cycling," MacWillie whispers back. "All we have to do now is activate it."

Some of the numbness leaves me.

"It... it's going to work?"

The Chief Engineer shrugs.

"Only one way to find out." Her mouth twists, like she's trying not to break down. "If I don't make it through this, it's been a right honor, young Sky. I'm sorry the lad and I were ever part of bringing you the pain of losing a friend, and I hope you can find it in you to forgive us."

My momentary excitement shifts just as quickly into dismay.

"What, wait, MacWillie, there has to be a way to-"

Her focus goes distant in that way I've come to recognize is her and Huckens accessing the infonet parts of their integrators that I can't yet resolve. I tense, not knowing what's going to transpire, but nothing happens other than a slight breeze shifting the leaves around the clearing.

MacWillie slowly opens her eyes, a relieved expression spreading across her face, then expels a huge breath.

"Well bugger me sideways. Looks like that wasn't quite enough to hit the big double zero."

I fling myself into a hug around her waist, Huckens unexpectedly doing the same from the other side. There are some questioning looks from the villagers around us, but their attention quickly returns to the vigil. After squeezing her for longer than probably necessary, I push away and look up.

"It worked?"

I'm almost afraid to say the words, but MacWillie just smiles and nods.

"Aye. One great big fuck-off incog field twisting itself nice and neat around this entire forest. All indicators are stable, and the engine's handling the load without breaking a sweat."

I look up at the sky, light pinks and reds slowly illuminating the indigos and blues of lingering night.

"I don't see anything different."

"That's the whole point," Violet replies absently. "When you're in the field it doesn't affect you." Her focus returns to me. "You should get going. I checked the Blackbeard's sensors - they're not registering the forest. The field's working."

I draw in a deep breath. This is it. The village will be safe, as long as I can do my part.

"And we have time? Before the fleets arrive?"

"According to the last communications I was able to access, yeah..."

She chews nervously on her lower lip, right hand stroking the spine of her dog in what looks like an unthinking habit. I lean closer.

"Is there something wrong?"

"...it's probably nothing. Just the transmitter acting up."

"...okay."

I turn to leave them, scanning the crowd for Broom, when Violet suddenly speaks again.

"And Sky. Thank you." Her words are halting, and she doesn't look at me. "For caring. I've never had anyone in my life that did."

"Be safe, Violet. The village will take care of you too."

I wave a quick goodbye to Huckens and leave the three of them behind, making my way along the edges of the crowd. It takes me a few minutes to find Broom, but she quickly joins me when she notices my beckoning gestures.

"The field is working," I tell her, not wasting any time. "I'm leaving now to draw the outsiders away from the village."

She clasps my shoulders with her hands.

"Don't forget us, Sky. Don't forget to come back."

"I could never forget," I mumble, stepping closer and squeezing her into a hug. "Thank you for teaching me how to be an Idiot. I wish I understood earlier."

She pats my back.

"You'll be fine." She separates our embrace, gazing seriously into my eyes. "Teach us what you can."

"Remember what I find," I reply, my voice catching on the last word. I turn and go before the tears can start falling. "Tell everyone I love them."

"I will," she promises, and then I'm running, losing myself amongst the trees one last time. I don't want to speed up, I want to take in their towering majesty for as long as I can, but I need to do my part to keep the village safe.

The new shuttle is five kilometers that way.

A waypoint appears in my vision, and I angle towards it.

You know, she might be betraying you. You could be delivering us right into a trap, all-wrapped up and easy to catch.

"Trust has to start somewhere, Box."

I would argue it is ultimately self-defeating to place your fate in someone else's hands, yet I cannot argue with the empirical evidence of our continued existence.

"Love you too, Box."

I sprint out of the forest into the blazing rays of the rising sun, a fiery disc crawling upwards from the horizon, a thick mass of puffy clouds receding into the distance. Cool wind streams past my face, hair whipping around my ears, and I can't help but smile. If this is the last time I see my home, at least I'm leaving with a beautiful view.

The shuttle, an almost exact replica of the downed one in the clearing, is perched in the middle of the scrubby brush and wildflowers like some overlarge beetle, ramp already extended towards the ground. I rush up and into the cockpit, not wanting to waste even a single second. Straps wind around me as the Hellhound rumbles into life.

This is going to be quick and dirty, Sky. The Blackbeard's picking up some incoming signatures that aren't supposed to be here yet.

"...Violet?"

A giant's fist tries to crush me against the seat as the Hellhound leaps into the air, its low rumble expanding into a bellowing roar. The ground shrinks beneath me, forest canopy quickly lost to sight. A blue pane, similar to Box, appears on the shuttle viewscreen, a blinking green dot surrounded by nebulous yellow clouds, translucent enough I can still see past it to the morning sky above.

"What's that?"

Combat plot. Green dot is the Blackbeard. Yellow zones are projected emergence areas of whatever's coming in.

More gold blooms around the isolated emerald, spreading like spring wildflowers after a heavy rain. Orange dots sprout in mushroom clusters among the clouds closest to the Blackbeard, pulsating dangerously.

Fuck! Those are-

Smaller orange specks detach in a pollen haze, darting towards the green dot. Beyond the combat plot, the sky fades from blue to indigo to black, and then I realize there's no sky anymore. Hard pinpricks of light bore in from everywhere, glittering jewels on midnight cloth.

"Violet?"

The large green dot matches the action, releasing a swarm of its own, and the two intermingle in a swirling melee. Icons start vanishing, bursting apart in quick puffs that continue spreading in gray vectors, and new stars flare and fade in the view beyond. The green specks break away in darting lunges for the larger orange shapes, disappearing in scores, but one eventually reaches its target. The orange wavers, then shifts to green, and that's when the combat plot explodes into wild chaos that makes the previous encounter seem like a measured dance.

The silent darkness erupts in distant color.

Every orange shape flips to a vibrant red, hundreds of additional smaller lines streaking out in rippling salvos. They're split between the two separated green dots, converging on both in a manner of seconds. Viridian lines blast out in return, wiping away whatever they touch, but they're a fraction of what they're responding to. Simultaneously, the Hellhound flips over to face back the way it came, sending my stomach tumbling and hiding my view of the blooming lights.

"Violet! What's happening!"

...Pen... you... fucking bitch...

The madness continues on the combat plot, green and red disappearing in those silent explosions, more red constantly appearing from the yellow clouds, an occasional icon flipping green when one of the smaller specks reaches it and immediately inciting another riot of action. We leave the black behind, a large blue and green circle I realize must be Earth growing larger beneath us.

Sky. Violet sent a summary. The fleets were warned there was a possible net integrator, and they have taken precautions.

"How'd they discover Violet was here?" I shout as the shuttle starts shaking. Warnings begin howling in shrill tones, but what they're warning me of I don't know.

They didn't. Documentation from my creator about my capabilities was disseminated to every corpo.

I think back to a brief conversation between MacWillie, Huckens, and Box.

'My modifications do not include infonet capabilities. Would you like them to?'

"They think we're the net integrator?!"

Regardless of the conclusion they arrived at, the outcome is the same. They were forewarned, and thus, forearmed. Established protocol when faced with a net integrator is to remove net access hardware and wetware from both materiel and personnel. Violet is attempting to physically infiltrate on a ship by ship basis by sending assault squads to access their local nets and bootstrapping in a system, but it is not a battle she can win. All she can do is buy time.

The warnings in the cockpit shriek louder, sky growing shades of blue, and then an explosion shakes the Hellhound like a leaf in a gale. More violent bursts of force toss me around, and then the back half of the shuttle peels away, sending the cockpit into a nauseating spin, wind howling throughout the cabin.

"Time to do what?!"

The straps tighten around me even more, and then there's a jolting lurch. The lifeless front viewscreen flies away, followed shortly by the seat with me still attached. The seat whirls, then somehow stabilizes itself, leaving me facing up at the sky above. Explosions near and far continue rolling in and out of existence, whites and oranges and reds and yellows painting the air with bulging violence.

...I don't know, Sky. I don't know how to escape this.

I scream as we fall, a wordless howl ripped away by the whistling gale. Tiny bits of darker air appear above me, clouds where none should exist, and Box focuses my vision on one. It's composed of egg shaped pieces of gray metal, their bottoms cooling from cherry to soot black, and as my field of vision retracts, I realize that each cloud has to contain thousands of them.

"What are those?!"

Lockmartin mk.8 high altitude assault pods, known as "Angel Tears," rated for-

"I don't need specifications right now, Box! Think! What should we do?!"

Our fall continues in silence for several seconds, accompanied only by the ever present tempest and the growing dirty haze above. I try to turn my head to see how close we are to the ground, but the straps keep me immobile. I briefly consider manifesting my limbs and cutting myself loose, but that seems like a bad idea. The seat showed signs of orienting itself deliberately earlier. I'll have to trust it knows what it's doing.

...I have run every calculation and permutation I can think of, Sky. There is no answer.

The seat kicks against me, forcing a grunt from me as it violently slows. There's a banging crunch, then hardened foam suddenly expands all around as I feel the sensation of falling get replaced by the end over end upheaval of an uncontrolled roll. The disorienting movement stops as quickly as it began, the foam flaking away and the straps retracting back into the cockpit chair. I claw my way out of the dissolving chunks of foam, trying to get my bearings.

Towering chunks of metal, like monoliths to some crazed technological being, rise all around. Their guts spew shattered deckplates, broken bulkheads, and tangles of twisted cable and wire. It's a trail of devastation and torn ground that extends in a straight line away from...

"...no. Oh, no. Why, Box?"

I nearly fall to my knees, my limbs the only things keeping me upright.

...standard ejection seat safety protocol is to orient on the nearest signs of civilization within a one thousand kilometer radius.

...it's the starfly. I'm right outside the village, in the ruins of the starfly. I force myself to look up.

The clouds of assault pods nearly blot out the morning light, larger shapes, vaster than the cruiser still impaled on Fishhook following behind. Spears of piercing light stab through the thronging hordes, impaling the ground in lightning strike flashes that form a cage stretching from horizon to horizon.

...landing zone sterilization. Standard protocol against an unknown strength combat variant is to-

"I don't want to know what 'standard protocol' is, Box!" I spin around in a circle, prey trapped in a hunter's closing net. "How do we keep them away from the village?!"

Assault pods start hitting the ground like ashen rain, far enough away that I can barely make out the tiny shapes scrambling out of their unfolding sides. They're everywhere. The ships above continue to grow in size, hanging against the sky in defiance of gravity, disgorging wave after wave of shuttles and strikecraft.

...we cannot keep them away, Sky. If we don't move, then the troops on the far side of the village will breach the field as they close in. If we move away, they will breach it faster in order to keep the cordon intact.

"...fight. What if we fight?"

There are too many. When I am forced to implement my bugout protocol on your death, I will lead them directly back to the clearing.

"...change it."

...I can't. I'm sorry.

I want to scream again, to rage against the injustice of it all, but I'm just so tired now. All I wanted was to touch the sky. Live a happy life, safe with my family.

Why must these outsiders bring nothing but pain? We could be friends if we just had a chance to get to know each other. MacWillie, Huckens, even Violet proves that. I never wanted to kill any of them.

I just wanted the village to live.

"I'm going home." The words tumble from my mouth like boulders, dull and heavy. "I won't let my family die alone."

...I'm sorry.

I force myself into a sprint, moving as fast as I can through the starfly wreckage back towards the village. Red threat vectors spiral out around me, distant munitions launched from the towering craft blotting out the sun, but I avoid them with contemptuous ease, dashes fired off in rapid succession. Quicker than thought, I'm back beneath those familiar red leaves, weaving amongst pale boles that have been the solid bedrock of my life. The forest, protecting us as we protect it.

All too quickly, human life appears around me. The tree planting ceremony is still ongoing at the clearing, the villagers remaining despite the impossible to miss events happening overhead. Great Grandpa Axe's tree still hasn't sprouted, and the current speaker, River Builder, Wires' uncle, stutters a bit when he sees me rush up, but continues his recollections. A small knot of people is gathered off to the side, Torch and Dirt among them, and I hurry over.

As I get closer I can see that they're surrounding a twitching figure on the ground, a growling dog pacing circles around her. I push my way through to the Idiots' side, looking at Violet's whimpering frame.

"What happened?" I ask Dirt.

"Don't know. She fell over and started convulsing. The 'dog' thing won't let us get close." He looks at me in concern. "Broom said you were leaving. Maybe for a long time."

"...it didn't work. Our plan. There's outsiders all around the village."

"...are they friendly?"

I crylaugh.

"...no. No they aren't. They're going to kill us all."

Dirt thinks about it for a second, then shrugs amiably.

"Sometimes the melty rock wins. Did you learn anything useful?"

"...yes. You're all my family, and if we're going to die, I'd rather do it together with all of you than alone and afraid."

He smiles that beaming grin that lights up his face.

"Then it wasn't a waste."

A groan sounds from below us, and Corgia barks, abandoning her guard stance to frantically lick Violet's face. She sputters, weakly pushing the dog away, and I step forward to kneel at her side.

"Violet. Are you okay?"

She spits out a wad of blood and wipes her eyes, smearing red away from the tear ducts.

"...ugh, no. reality overload. I tried everything I could think of, but there were too many. I wasn't high enough level."

I help her into a sitting position.

"It's okay, Violet. You tried to help the village, and that's all we can ask. Box says none of us could have stopped this."

She hangs her head, hair shrouding her face.

"I was thinking of turning you over. Of having the Blackbeard tell them you were the net integrator. Try to buy my freedom."

I pat her shoulder.

"But you didn't. That's what matters."

"...I wish I could have grown up here."

I drape her arm across my back and lift her to her feet, supporting her uneven weight. Corgia circles around us, chuffing uneasily.

"C'mon. Let's go find MacWillie and Huckens."

She points a finger.

"They're over there. You know she's planning on blowing up the entire planet, right? And that there's almost a million troops about to walk in here?"

"I know."

We move in a staggering walk in the direction she indicates, Dirt helping me convince curious villagers to return to the tree planting ceremony. It doesn't take long to find the Chief Engineer and her apprentice. They're passing a jug of Bumsnirphle's back and forth beneath one of the forest elders, propped comfortably against the base of the trunk. MacWillie toasts me with the brown bottle, then takes a swig.

"Welcome back, young Sky. Come to join us in our preparations to meet the never-god?"

"I'm sorry, MacWillie," I say as I lower Violet to a sitting position. "We tried."

"Aye, that we did. At least I'll miss the big double zero. Shame about your village. A lass could come to love a place like this."

"Th- th- this sucks," Huckens mopes, reaching for the bottle, but MacWillie smacks his hand away.

"Young master Huckens," she barks, "is that how a space dog acts when reality has him up against the wall and no way out of the engines?"

"N- no, Chief."

"I didn't hear you, young master Huckens!"

"No, Chief! We grab the quarter-inch and nut 'em straight into the ground!"

MacWillie laughs at the red-faced Huckens.

"Aye, that's right." She takes another swig, then passes the bottle to me. "You just give the word, young Sky, and we'll show those bastards the price of freedom."

I take my own gulp, wincing at the burn. As I try not to cough, a familiar inky-furred head nudges itself under my hand.

goodbye time?

I scratch Pete idly as I hand the bottle to Violet. She sniffs it, takes a slug, then fans her mouth with her hand.

"That is wretched."

"You don't drink Bumsnirphle's for the taste," we chorus, and a tiny smile spreads across her tired face.

"Yeah, no shit." She takes another hefty swallow, Corgia moving to her lap. "You know, I'm almost sad I won't get to see the size of the Entity this is going to create. It's going to make the Ganymede Incident look like a firecracker. I just wish my family was up there."

Pete rubs against me for more pats, which I provide. I'm going to miss my cat. I grab the jug away from Violet and raise it to my lips. I wish the outsiders were as nice as Pete.

My hand freezes, the jug slowly slipping from my nerveless fingers. I ignore the shouts of surprise from the other three, my mind trying to encompass the enormity of the thought.

Sky-

"We have nothing left to try, Box. Don't try to talk me out of it."

I was going to say, good luck. If anyone can do it, it's you.

Violet cocks an eyebrow, MacWillie and Huckens still staring forlornly at the Bumsnirphle's slowly trickling into the ground at my feet.

"You have a plan? Now? The corpos are going to be at the forest edge in five minutes, and on top of us two minutes after they get sensor coverage into the field."

"MacWillie," I snap, ignoring Violet, "your overload of the engines, can you direct it at a single point? Create the breach in reality exactly there?"

"I... might be able to, but that would be one tricky piece of timing."

"Can you get it set up in under five minutes? I want you to target where we just buried Great Grandpa. Meet us there when you're ready."

She rolls to her feet, then hauls Huckens up.

"I don't know what you're thinking it'll accomplish, young Sky, since a reality breach doesn't care much about where it starts, but the lad and I will see it done. We owe you that. On my name as a MacWillie."

She sets off into the trees, Huckens in tow, and I return my attention to Violet, pulling her upright.

"You can interfere with what information an integrator is passing to someone's senses and vice versa, right?"

"Sure, but it's not going to do much against those troops. They're cut off from me, and I mean that literally. They carved out the part of their brains that interacts with the infonet." She scowls. "It's how they fought people like me in the Information Wars."

I help her start moving back to the ceremony.

"If Box gave you permission, could you replace what you and MacWillie and Huckens are perceiving with what I'm perceiving?"

She gawks at me, wide-eyed.

"You would have to trust me completely to even think that. I could do anything I wanted to your mind with that kind of access."

"Can you do it?"

"I might... Corgia, do you think..."

woof

"...no, what if we..."

woof bark whine

"...if you say so."

bark bark grin

"Corgia says we can do it. The patch won't last long though."

I squeeze her shoulder in between steps.

"It'll be long enough. I hope. I want you to put it into place the instant MacWillie starts the breach."

"Okaaaaay..."

We return to the clearing, the great mass of villagers still gathered in a circle around the gentle mound in the clearing. I leave Violet against a tree with a quick assurance that I'll be right back, then dash over to where Dirt and Torch are standing with Broom, Jasper, and some other Idiots I haven't been formally introduced to yet. Broom gives me a sad look.

"Sky. Dirt told me it didn't work. I'm sorr-"

"No time," I interrupt her. "Is there anyone in the village not here?"

She looks startled at my question, then furrows her brow in thought.

"Some of the Bakers working on today's meals, two Breeders keeping an eye on the crabroach pens, and a Water at the Shrine of Saint Curie to watch the machinery."

I do some quick distance calculations in my head.

"Okay, I need you to round up the Bakers and Breeders that are missing and bring them here. Be back in four minutes. I'll go get whoever's at the Shrine."

"Sky-" Broom starts, but I override her again.

"This is my melty rock, Broom, and it hasn't killed me yet. Trust me? Please?"

Her expression firms.

"You heard Sky, Idiots. As fast as you can!"

We scatter from the clearing, drawing more confused stares, but I don't have time to worry about them. I'm not going to leave anything to chance. I'm not going to leave anyone behind.

Two minutes later, I'm at the entrance of the Shrine of Saint Curie, barreling through in a mess of arms and legs and limbs. The slight figure at the foyer desk flinches back, crutches toppling to the side in a clatter.

"What the... Sky?"

I grab Door with one of my limbs, already spinning around to leave.

"Close your eyes and try not to puke."

I race back to the gathering, dashing through obstacles along the way, then drop a quivering Door next to Rifle, tucking my limbs away before anyone can notice. I ignore Rifle's brief surprise and race towards the incoming figures of Dirt and Torch.

"Did you get everyone?"

"Last ones," Torch huffs, "are right behind us."

Sure enough, Stump and Saw Breeder come panting through the trees, herding leathers still dripping water, and I dash directly away from them, seeking the waypoint marker of MacWillie and Huckens. They enter the clearing seconds later, MacWillie nodding as she sees me. I reverse direction towards Violet, still slumped against her tree.

"Are you ready?"

She grins madly at me, blood staining her teeth. Distant shouts rise through the trees, shadows descending overhead.

"They're already in the forest."

An impossible delta hovers above the clearing, kilometer-long hatches disgorging an endless stream of death.

"They're everywhere. Whatever you're going to do, do it quick."

"Thank you," I whisper back, and then I'm next to the low mound once more, taking the place of Onyx Miner, much to her surprise.

"Everyone," I shout, drawing what few eyes weren't already focused on me, "I want you to think of Great Grandpa Axe. Of the village, and of what it means to you." I give the barest of nods to MacWillie, trusting Violet is observing through our integrators. "I want you to think of our trees. What this forest means to us."

Light blooms overhead, shining lances that wobble and slow as a green shoot pokes up through the soil. MacWillie's body arches back, mouth caught wide in a silent scream.

Time stops.

A voice like a great bell tolls through my body, the tiny bud of life stretching slowly upwards in utter violation of the stasis gripping everything.

the pact is upheld

Green tendrils expand into alabaster trunk and crimson emerald leaves, reaching towards the sky with hungry claws.

The sacrifice is met.

Somehow I'm able to move in that frozen picture, my eyes swiveling towards MacWillie's contorted form, bone bark and vermillion leaves replacing her skin and hair, root tendrils crawling down her nose and mouth as she ossifies. It is beautiful. It is horrific.

It isn't real.

This perfect moment is mine, and I choose defiance. Not because I want it, but because it is the truth. Great Grandpa would never choose this. No one in the village would.

"...no. We protect the trees, and they protect us in return. They have never harmed us, and they never will."

The expanding fractal pauses, emanating vegetal astonishment, interrogating strands caught in unseen nets.

You DARE?

I look around at the other villagers. The Waters, the Breeders, the Bakers, the Builders, the Minds, the Idiots, and everyone else. All of us, working together to survive a world intent on destroying our tiny part of it. All of us, still here, still standing despite our losses. Every last one of my family nods in agreement, unshackled and free, confident in our bedrock. The center of our universe that has kept us alive all these years.

"No. We know."

The breach in reality twists on itself, lesser infinities banished beneath the weight of greater vistas conceptualized by a united network of unattached minds.

We care for each other.

We accept that death happens.

We shelter beneath the living bones of our ancestors.

This tree is the same as any other tree. Its roots draw from what came before. Its branches fuel a new generation. The leaves shade us all.

It cannot hurt us, because to do so would invalidate the world itself.

A midnight cat lounges amongst the leaves, infinite tails curled around itself, and smiles at me as it disappears.

THE PACT IS CONCLUDED, AND GLADLY! OH, IF ONLY YOU COULD WITNESS THE GLORY OF OUR CHILDREN! NAME US WHAT WE ARE! WHAT WE'VE ALWAYS BEEN!

Raw power, a vibrating current of potential blasts through the fabric of reality in rippling aftereffects. I cannot look anywhere else, I cannot sense anything other than what is before me, and somehow I know it's the same for our entire universe. I feel everyone as they feel me.

Anything capable of perception is focused on what we've birthed, but they're already too late. We've decided how to view our Outsider. There's no going back.

"We offer you sanctuary, the same sanctuary provided for us. The sanctuary everyone deserves."

Roots dig deep, twisting carelessly through the crust of the planet, investing more thoroughly through the mantle, then drinking deep from the core. Simultaneously, a massive trunk extends out and through the bounds of physicality, carefully encapsulating the minute specks of matter that constitute soldiers, shuttles, ships, and space stations, cradling them in woven lattices. Leaves larger than planets extend immaterially across dimensions, laying claim to every infinity they touch with authority inescapable. The forest, our forest, the thousands of years we've given our lives to maintain, unfurls itself.

AT LAST. A PLACE TO REST.

The seemingly infinite folds of reality stretching beyond the bounds of our tree compress themselves back into a discrete form, forever vistas cohering along three dimensional laws. Hostile forces are withdrawn and current commitments of destruction are encapsulated into forever branches, their munitions echoing into an endless void. The recursive ladder of fate collapses in on itself, eventually clattering to a stop,

I look around wildly, not quite sure what I just witnessed, not quite sure that I still exist.

"...Box?"

...I'm here.

I fall silent as I take in the scene in front of me. Great Grandpa's tree is still a tiny shoot, barely breaking the surface of the soil, but at the same time it is an ivory wall embracing everything in sight, stretching up so high I can barely see the beginning of its crown. Villagers look around with amazed expressions, witnessing a paradox that comforts rather than condemns. Armored soldiers struggle to move, caught like flies in amber until they let their weapons fall and fade away. Their faceless helmets peel back, revealing a countless variety of features and forms, but all share that same wondering awe.

Sanctuary cradles us with its gentle touch, offering respite from an unforgiving universe, and I feel a weight I'd never known I was carrying lift from my heart. I kneel down next to Wires' tree. I wish you could have seen this. My brief tears water its roots, and then I stand.

The carved statue of a woman, tall and burly, scars criss-crossing her gnarled hands, walks up beside me, feeling at her wooden skin and red-leaf hair. Her movements are fluid, impossible, sublime. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then shakes her head and smiles. A young man runs up next to her, hesitantly poking as if he can't believe that she's real. She gently cuffs him on the head, then sweeps him into a crushing hug.

All around me, people gather. My friends, my family, both those I've known, and those I wish to know. A dog wags its tail so hard it nearly levitates, licking the tears away from the face of a girl who sits on the forest floor, poleaxed by the first touch of serenity in her life. Her lips quirk upward almost against her will; a prisoner finally freed. A goofy grin that turns her into a work of art spreads and spreads, and she lets herself slump in relief.

As the sacred moment fades, as the reverence dissolves into growing jubilation, I finally find the words I want to say.

"What happened?"

Perception is everything, Sky. In all the infinities of the multiverse, of all the shades of reality, your people could only imagine the one filled with love. An Entity looking for peace.

It's not what I would have chosen, that's for sure. Now I'm never going to get to make numbers go up.

I laugh, then join the celebration. Our village is safe.

We're not alone.

FIN