The Isekai App

It had been brutal, but Phase Three had been flawless. Now Phase Four could begin. The Humans we'd harvested would be healed and…

…and…

What was this? I felt odd, light and dizzy, though I had no inner ears to provide the sensation.

All of me had it. All of us, and Molly, were aware of one another. Grateful. Proud of surviving…sort of. Had we survived? Prevailed?

We were a single mind, a single Owen Walsh. You'd think Molly wouldn't fit into this, but she was just another spice for the stew. We'd become a single person hovering above the blackened, flattened city.

Your soul will know what to do, Adaobi had said. And yes: we felt it. A pull, over to Caravan, to the City of Trees. To the tanks. We would be made whole again. So would our foes, and we could get this straigtened out once and for all.

But.

Maybe that wasn't the best option. What about … up? It seemed interesting. Fascinating, actually. And it wasn't up, not at all. Or down or forward or any of that. It was a different direction.

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But it felt like up. And going there felt right.

I thought: up there, maybe we wouldn't be this way. Maybe we could be someone we like, someone instead of us. Maybe we wouldn't have to be city-killers. Maybe things could be better.

Yes.

My friends. My brothers and sister. Whatever my brave Molly was; child, monster, I didn't know.

I forgot who we were.

I opened my eyes. Because I had them. Eyes again, and ears to hear the surf.

A sunny California beach bordered by tall cliffs. I lay on a towel. I felt…smaller. My hands weren't as bony. They were my hands, no question, but…fewer scars, less calloused. Younger by a few years.

Sniffing in my ear. A dog's tongue licking my neck.

I yelled and embraced her. "Oh goodness!" I said again and again, just like I'd used to. She howled and squirmed and cried, covering me with dog kisses, tail a blur of frantic motion, just like she'd used to.

"Always wanted more than one kid," a woman called from near the water. "Now I have nothing BUT the one kid, times five. Or six? Is that a grandchild? Una nieta."

She wore nursing scrubs, here at the beach.

We talked things over. The dog brought me a slobbery, sandy tennis ball. I threw it for her. She ran like a bolt of lightning, splashing in the shallows, getting muddy and nasty and having a blast.

Eventually, though, I changed my mind. I came back. Still stuff to do.