System Lost: My Own Best Friend

"Ugh," Maggie groans irritably. "Why do you pick the worst possible times to be smart?"

I smile mirthlessly, my tone a mix of sweet and venomous as I reply. I've had it up to here with Maggie's insults.

"Maybe I'm always smart," I suggest innocently. "Maybe I just don't feel the need to constantly prove it. Maybe I don't need to put others down to feel better about myself, and maybe I just want you to answer the fricking question!"

Maggie sighs, ignoring my barbs, and while she's being quiet I can tell that Violet is still here, listening intently.

"You've half-answered the question just by asking it," she says. "Or at least, by forcing the issue the way you did."

"How do you mean?"

"You threatened to not let me examine Nipper until I answered," she explains. "To refuse to let me in front. Maybe you thought that was just hot air, but I think you know on some level that it's a real threat."

"You think I can actually keep you suppressed?" I ask, surprised both that she thinks it's true, and that she's openly telling me so.

"I know you can," she insists.

"Why, because I'm...?" I trail off momentarily, trying to find the right word. "Because I'm the original?"

Maggie rolls her eyes. I don't know how I can tell, but I just can.

"No, stupid—because you think you are. You've always been a selfish bitch like that."

I blink, hurt by the accusation but also...kind of indignant? I am the original Allison. This is my body. My name is on...some kind of identification, I'm sure, even if I can't remember right now. But my mind latches onto something else as I narrow my eyes.

"What do you mean, 'always'?" I ask. "It's only been a day."

She shrugs, and again I just...feel the body language. I've been noticing it more and more, but it's especially intense right now.

"My memory's got as many holes in it as yours, but I can just...tell. I know you, and I know Violet. I...recognize you, and not just because we have the same memories."

"Even if that's true, what does it have to do with my question?"

The frustrated huff she gives me suggests that she's annoyed I didn't figure it out on my own and—okay, maybe she's on to something about us already knowing each other.

"It's way simpler and more complicated than you think," she says. "You're in front because you want to be. More than Violet or I do. That's it."

"What? No, it can't just be that."

"It is," she insists. "You wanted to know how I 'forced' a switch? The answer is that I know you, and I know Vi. It's just a matter of telling you what you need to hear."

I shake my head in protest. "But if that's all it was, then switching would be easy!"

"Really? Okay, stop wanting to be in front, then. Let me control your body."

Something about her tone makes me frown, but I try to focus on stepping back, letting go, and all the other visualizations that have helped in the past, but nothing happens.

I gesture helplessly and look up at the ceiling, spreading my arms.

"See? I tried, and it didn't work."

"Yeah," she says flatly. "Now watch this."

I stagger backwards momentarily, my head suddenly pounding. Forcing my way to the front is not pleasant in the slightest. Credit where it's due, Allison is anything but weak-willed—she's just awful at actually concentrating that will.

"Boom!" I crow, trying not to let on how much focus this is taking. "Now I'm Maggie. Please hold your applause."

"What." Allie mutters quietly. "What?! That didn't answer anything? How come it didn't work when I did it?"

I grunt, partly because of the splitting headache, and partly because she still doesn't get it! I know how frustrated Allie and Vi get when I'm trying to explain things to them, but it's just as frustrating for me. Maybe they think I'm doing it on purpose—and granted, sometimes I am—but it's so confusing to me that they can't follow my logic.

I keep laying everything out, only to find that they still don't understand and I don't know how else to explain it. But this is important—maybe the most important thing in our entire life, considering how much of an impact it has on us, so I make an effort.

"I didn't want to be in front because I was trying to prove a point," I tell her, trying to keep things as simple and direct as I'm able. "Violet doesn't want to be in front because she hates herself. And you still think that we're just imaginary little voices in your head!"

"That's not—I don't—" Allie tries to protest meekly, and the throbbing in my head starts to die down as her will stops subconsciously wrestling with mine—just a little. "I know you're real."

"Sure," I agree, shrugging as I slowly start making my way towards Nipper. The little cutie's been blithely munching away this whole time, blissfully unaware of our argument. "Now that you've got conclusive proof. It's hard to argue with the [World Engine]. But be honest, you still think that Violet and I are just alternate versions of yourself, don't you?"

"But...aren't you?" she asks so innocently that it makes me want to fucking puke.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I decline to answer, crouching down next to Nipper and ignoring the smell of week-old lizard guts. It's not fun, but if I'm doing something gross and/or dangerous, Allie's less likely to muscle her way forward to interrupt me.

"When I first came to the front, I might have been freaking out a little," I admit.

I sense Allie's confusion at the non-sequitur, but I don't know how else to communicate, so she can damn well deal with it. I try reaching out to pet Nipper's smooth, slightly slimy skin, then recoil as it twists around to snap at my fingers. Still living up to his name, I guess. I eye the worm warily as I go on.

"I was stressed, angry, and maybe just a tiny bit traumatized from dunking my mind straight into the deep end of the entire cosmos. I was pissed off and you two kept nattering in my ears and all I wanted was to just be left alone for a bit. Then I was."

While that sinks in, I poke at Nipper tentatively, trying to search for spots that are more or less sensitive and roughly gauging the level of biteyness any given spot provokes.

"Whenever we're in serious danger, Violet takes over," Allison adds quietly.

I nod. "Neither you nor I want to deal with that shit, but someone has a death wish."

"I resent your implications, Maggie," Violet interrupts finally. "I don't want to be in danger or get hurt any more than either of you. I'm just willing to take on those burdens if I have to."

"Yeah," I deadpan. "Because you hate yourself."

In response, she does that thing where she struggles to come up with an answer for a bit, then tries to change the subject.

"There have been times when Allie and I were both trying to switch, and it still failed," she points out.

The sides are the sweet spot. I mean, it's hard to call any particular spot on Nipper "the side" since he's shaped like, well, a worm, but he clearly knows which way is down, and by gently pinching his sides I get the odd little creature to freeze up. I don't know if that's a good thing, but I'll put it a step up from trying to bite me.

"You and Allie are the worst match for that," I grumble, lifting the now strangely limp worm away from the carrion. "Neither of your hearts are in it. She doesn't like giving up control, and you don't like taking it unless it's an emergency."

"But it's not always—"

"Of course it isn't!" I interrupt Allison's banal protest. "Sometimes you get bored, Allison. And Vi's at least a little excited about gaining levels. So yeah, if the mood strikes, you'll switch sometimes. We can be more than one thing."

As if that even needs to be said. I start carrying Nipper back to the map room, and wonder how I'm going to study him without cutting him open. Also how to take care of him, keep him fed, keep him from smothering us to death in our sleep and eating us, and whether keeping him alive is such a good idea after all.

"How are you getting it to stay still like that?" Allie asks, eventually. "It's like a kitten or something."

"Or dead..." Violet adds.

"I dunno, I just tried stuff until something worked," I say with a shrug. "That's all any of us can do, isn't it?"

It seems that if there's anything we can all agree on, it's avoiding further awkward conversations.

"How are you going to keep it from killing us in our sleep?" Vi asks.

"I dunno, I'll think of something."

"Or get us killed."

"Or that, sure," I shrug. "Calm your tits, Vi, I'm not trying to get us killed. Now shut up for a second, I need to concentrate."

With Nipper temporarily pacified, I sit down next to the knife—if only to pacify Violet—and close my eyes to focus on that strange sixth sense that I've had ever since I first peered into what I've just now decided to start calling the magic dimension. That's what I think it is, essentially—another dimension. Not alternate realities like the one we presumably came from before showing up in this world, but another axis of this reality. One that either didn't exist, or we had no way of perceiving in our old world.

I have to be careful with this new sense. It's easy to get lost in it, like I did the first time. Even now I can feel the urge to plunge back into those infinite depths and just take it all in as it rips me to shreds, but a more rational part of me realizes how stupid that is. It's a compulsion, I realize. Not quite the same as an addiction, or maybe it is.

I can't even remember what I saw anymore. My mind is too small and weak to hold on to the memory, but I remember how it felt. Like for a moment I could see everything, understand everything—witness the full scope of the cosmos and reach out to touch it. Then it was gone, and I realized just how tiny and fragile I am. I can imagine people breaking themselves against it, either crushed by the existential dread or chasing that feeling of significance until they push themselves too far and shatter their minds.

Violet is right, damn her. Magic is definitely dangerous, but it's the best tool we have. We aren't prepared for a survival situation and until now we've barely managed to keep our heads above the proverbial water. If we're ever going to reach the shore in this analogy, something needs to change.

The World Engine...I don't think it's on our side. I don't know that it has a side, really, but it's ambivalent at best. It empowers us, yes, but I can't help but feel that playing entirely within its rules is a losing proposition, so I intend to cheat as much as I can get away with.

Anyway, where was I? Right, magic dimension. I've got a vague sense of the magic around me now, like looking at sources of light with your eyes closed. If I try opening that metaphorical eye, I'll be overwhelmed in a second, but maybe I can just...squint a little? Open my eye a tiny bit and keep my focus as narrow as possible.

It's harder than it sounds. Every time I try to peek into that infinite dimension of power, it's like driving a spike through my brain. However, like with Nipper, I tentatively poke and prod, trying to attack the problem from different angles until I find something that works.

Eventually, I stumble onto a useful trick. My sixth sense isn't really like sight at all, that's just a metaphor I've been using to visualize and describe it. It's more like a dull sense of awareness that radiates away from me, but it doesn't have to look outward. With a bit of concentration, I can flip it around and look within myself instead, and I'm way smaller than the entire universe.

From there I can gradually sort of...extrude my awareness out from, say, my fingertips, and get a sense of Nipper, still unhappily paralyzed between the thumb and middle finger of my right hand. What I find is pretty interesting, actually.

"Huh, it's got extradimensional biology," I comment aloud.

"Really?" Allie asks enthusiastically. "How can you tell?"

"Magic," I answer simply. "He's got like...magic organs, sort of. Parts of his biology physically extend into the magical dimension."

"That doesn't make any sense," Vi complains. "And what's this about a magic dimension?"

"Nothing I haven't already told you about," I sigh. "It's like another spatial axis that we can't perceive—well, I can, a little. Or a lot if I want to turn our brain into goo."

"Maybe don't do that," Allie interjects helpfully.

"Yeah. Anyway, that explains where he's been putting all the food, and how they convert it into silk. I'll want to observe it in the process of eating magic and spinning silk to see if I can understand and copy the process."

"Wow! That would be pretty cool," she exclaims, then hesitates. "But uh...wouldn't we need to have our own magic organs or whatever to do that? We've just got plain ol' 3D biology."

"Not necessarily," I say, shaking my head. "Though now that you mention it, I wonder..."

I withdraw my magical awareness from Nipper and instead try examining my own body more closely. Do we have any extradimensional bits I don't know about?

My first impression is that it's a dud. All I sense is my body—cut up, bruised, sore, starting to get gross calluses on my feet, and exactly as I expect it to be. But then I look deeper and see...my body. Again. And again. And...

"Oh, holy shit..." I gasp. "Allie, Vi...I think there's a lot more than just the three of us in here."