by A W Wang
Through the discomfort radiating from my broken jaw, I force out a sigh. What does it matter? This is the final hurdle to find the woman with the red mane and has to be beaten no matter the hardship.
I grab Jill’s arm and mumble, “Come on, this is the last test we need to pass. Nothing here comes easy.”
Too tired to argue, she takes a lumbering step and wobbles, crying out when she uses her hand to balance on the hot rocks.
I lean over and pull her upright, grimacing from my own problems.
“Let’s do this,” we say in unison.
Neither of us shows any humor at the coincidence.
We push onto the next cut of stone and then the one after, and soon, we are marching upward, one grueling step at a time.
After another few minutes, a gust rumbles past, knocking me backward. With a groan, Jill shoves her hand into the small of my back and keeps me upright.
I glance over my shoulder, a little shocked to see how far we’ve come. A fall down the long flight of stairs would be unforgiving.
Even though teamwork isn’t supposed to be part of the Ten Sigma Program, there are times when it helps. A lot. “Thanks.”
She responds with a tired nod and drops her hand from my back, pushing her boot onto the next flat surface.
When I face forward, I grimace at the unending nature of the climb.
One at a time.
I lean into the sweeping winds and continue.
Despite our progress, the volcanic landscape remains a constant of rocks and more rocks. I snort laughter, assuming a new stair appears above for every one that falls below—like being on a never-ending escalator.
Steam hisses from a nearby vent, and Jill sags to a knee, sweat dripping from her blackened, haggard face. “I’m not going to make it.”
I sink next to her, dizzy from the loss of blood, muscles aching from exhaustion. The rage inside me rises while I gather my breath. Loitering on a hot staircase cut into a volcano isn’t getting me closer to the woman with the red mane.
“No time for rest,” I say, trying to keep my broken jaw immobile.
As I rise, she sends a defeated expression. “Just go.”
I shake my head. The acidic air scorches my throat as I suck down a breath and say in the loudest voice I can force through my gritted teeth, “You are a ten sigma. One of the greatest fighters who will ever live. We never quit.”
Her tired eyes stare through me.
I lean close and quietly add, “Everybody came into the program with the goal of getting out. You might have forgotten what’s driving you, but whatever it is, it’s still waiting in the real world.” I point. “Up there. It’s not that far.”
She dips her head. “Fine, anything to stop your nagging.”
“Only a few more steps,” I say, helping her stand.
“Liar,” she says with a smirk, “but it’s okay. I’d rather die trying than bleed out here.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Talking takes too much energy and only an occasional grunt breaks the silence while we ascend, just focusing on keeping each other moving. Incredibly, the smoke thickens and our choking, sulfur-laden coughs worsen with each plodding step.
A painful snicker leaves my mouth. Shadowy fingers are creeping along the edge of my vision. Although Jill’s right and it’s better to die trying than waiting to die, Death isn’t waiting for me either.
I push a grin onto my face, welcoming the return of my old friend.
Jill, who has somehow found her second wind, says, “Stop daydreaming and keep moving.”
With a nod, I force my foot onto the next step and keep pace.
While the heated air leaches my strength and cold shivers run through my body, the shadowy fingers dip further into my vision.
“Stay awake,” Jill says.
I had only closed my eyes for a moment, although my feet kept moving.
“Like marching with the Romans as they chased after Spartacus,” internal me uselessly adds.
“Perseverance,” Jill says.
I force my heavy lids open. “What?”
Her words come out between labored breaths. “Every ring has a theme to conquer. The island was viciousness. Then brutality. Determination. The ice one was solitude. The city, ingenuity. Where we didn’t know the weapons was adaptability.”
“Imagine that.”
She glances at me. “This one is about persevering.”
Too fatigued to respond with anything but a huff, I twist my head and force my body higher.
Lan floats in the haze above me. “You have resilience, sir!”
Unsure if he’s real or a hallucination, I reply, ”I really hate your English accent.”
“Most people do.”
“So, you’re doing all the innuendo on purpose?”
“Indubitably.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“I don’t know the meaning of the word, sir,” he says in a tone that could be completely interpreted as sarcastic.
“Stop arguing with a figment of your imagination,” internal me interrupts.
Still upset with the British for their snooty accent and infernal wit, I shout at my imaginary friends, “Resilience and perseverance mean the same thing!”
“Dare to live the dream,” Cheri says dreamily.
“He dreams about me,” Jet says.
“So how did you die?” I ask.
“I’m part of you, so unless you know, how would I? But I wouldn’t have died if you’d only joined me.”
“I’d look stupid with blood painted on my face.”
A whoop sounds. “Don’t say it,” I mumble before imaginary Saya can belittle me for not whooping and charging to the top.
Jill flicks a glance but stays silent, probably not wanting to deal with my wild ravings.
My gaze lingers. Somehow, she looks prettier, even covered with soot and sweat from days of fighting. My mind wanders into figuring out why…
“I know why…”
“You just think I have the hots for her.”
“That’s not the reason.”
When I stay quiet, unwilling to waste energy arguing, internal me continues, “Her features are really subtle. Nothing is striking, but when you put everything together, including her personality, which has been coming out little by little, she’s super pretty.”
“Oh,” I say, realizing the truth of the statement.
“And you do have the hots for her.”
“No, I don’t.”
The words come out as a guttural rambling, but Jill keeps her tired eyes focused on the next stairs, struggling to move higher.
She probably thinks I’ve completely lost it.
“Completely? No, you’re not quite there yet,” internal me says. “Come on, let’s play a game. I’ll say a word, and you say what first comes to mind. And no repeat answers.”
I nod.
“Resilience means…”
“Never giving up.”
“Resilience means…”
“Didn’t you just say that?”
“Yes, but it’s your defining trait, and the best of all the traits you’re mimicking. So, keep going.”
A sigh leaks into one of my exhausted breaths.
“It means I can bounce back from anything.”
“Good. Resilience means…”
As the inane conversation continues, more of my vision erodes into blackness.
Jill’s form sags against my shoulder, and her eyes roll-up.
I push under her arm and help her stand.
Then, bearing the added weight, I continue the endless trek.
“Resilience means…”
“I’m stubborn.”
“Resilience means…”
“Achieving my goal.”
After I give another ten answers, I look up, startled by clear air. The thick haze hangs below, appearing to stretch all the way to the glinting surface of the bubble far in the distance. Beyond that stands the magnificen
ce of the blue dome.
I snort.
Jinn, for all his flaws, was correct. This rarefied place is truly for the gods.
“Hey, dummy, that’s not all. Look in front of you.”
The stairs lead to a white glow shining in front of the ugly black funnel of the crater.
It’s obelisk!
“You mean, it’s ‘the’ obelisk.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you said ‘it’s obelisk’ like some concept, while ‘the’ obelisk is a physical thing.”
“Why are you arguing grammar with me?”
“I’m trying to help you get past your budding insanity.”
“You’re part of it!”
“I’m rolling my eyes.”
I roll mine too.
“Come on, one last time. Resilience means…”
The words cut into my forearm flare with pain, and I scream as loud as my broken jaw will allow, “Getting to the goddess with the red mane!”
“Who’s the goddess with the red mane?” Jill asks in a raspy voice.
Although I grimace from pain spiking through my busted jaw, I mumble, “Someone important.”
Her head lolls as a reply.
Steam blasts from a vortex.
I quake, imagining dead body parts swirling in the mist. When nothing happens, I drag Jill higher.
The last adrenaline seeps from my system, and the sharp pains from my wounds and the dull aches of my fatigued muscles fill the void.
My eyes close. I only need a minute of rest.
“Hey dummy,” my internal voice says.
“Are you the goddess with the red mane?”
“If that’s what you need me to be, then I’m her,” she replies, laughing with disdain.
“What do you want?” I say with anger.
“I think our time is growing short.”
“How do you know that?”
“Call this a hunch. If you make it out of here, I don’t think I’m coming with you. You’ll have to find the goddess with the red mane by yourself.”
My sigh dies in a scorching breeze sweeping down the staircase.
“Do you think you’re worthy of a goddess?” internal me asks.
I’m so tired.
“Jinn died because he wasn’t worthy of the goddess. Do you want to be unworthy, just like him?”
“No,” I say in a hoarse voice.
“Then prove it!”
I push my eyes open and tap into my internal rage. The rising fury shoves me to my feet. I grab Jill and stagger up the stairs, pushing my elbow into the blood oozing from my side and fighting the wooziness infecting my thoughts.
As the glow nears, the relentless advance of the black fingers shrinks my vision.
Death won’t be cheated either.
With a last surge, I shove Jill onto a square platform. I flop after her and crawl the final distance to a glowing white obelisk. A cursive script flows down its length.
Bleary-eyed, I lean close.
Instead of something profound, the fancy lettering pulsates literal instructions: All those who wish to pass must touch this portal.
I groan.
Not sure if Jill is still alive, I grab her unresisting arm and drag her toward me. I interlock our fingers and push our hands onto the smooth surface, hoping the action is in accordance with the rules. After a moment, I flop onto my back, exhausted from the effort.
Nothing happens.
My heavy eyelids flutter. I don’t have the strength for another try.
Too bad Cat isn’t around to slap my face.
I chuckle at the strange thought, forcing my eyes open and staring upward.
A gust blows away the black smoke from the crater, and the glorious blue dome shines overhead.
My vision dims.
Time’s up.
I’m so tired I have no fear of dying. There is only a burgeoning sense of guilt. I think about Cat. Then Mouse, Ty, Layla, and the others I met during the campaign. Dreamy Cheri, cautious Jake, and even Saya. Everyone from my first team. And Jet, who understood my dark side better than anyone.
Perhaps it’s only right I don’t leave this awful place.
As the thumps of my heart fade, I focus on meeting the goddess with the red mane. A smile crosses my face as the hand of darkness swallows my vision.
Before everything cuts to black, the golden sparkles appear.
Sixty-Three
Once again, I float in a vast expanse with misty swirls. And once again, I’m without a body.
“What is this place?”
The voice of the witch comes from near where my ear should be. “Congratulations on graduating the Ten Sigma Program.”
I should feel relief; I really should.
A different entity says, “Indeed you should. You possess no innate skills, yet were victorious in the end.”
“I have resilience, and I know people.”
Laughter roars.
“Yes, I suppose those do count as skills.”
The presence is familiar. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Yes, I’m also known as Haiku.”
The silver-haired avatar, who told us about this accursed campaign.
My anger rises, and I think back to Cat’s death.
“Was it necessary to put me into a direct confrontation with my former teammates?”
The witch answers. “The sequence of events allowed you to have closure, and the opportunity to leave this program with no questions unanswered.”
Besides not having an answer, in this environment with these beings, there’s no point in arguing.
“No,” the witch says. “There is no point in arguing.”
Ignoring the mind-reading, I ask, “Why did you bring me here?”
“By all rights, you should not be here, on the cusp of the next step. Yet you are the greatest example of what people can do with a little determination.
“As you must realize, a graduate of this program is rare. This is a thank you before we send you onward.”
“I only want to see the goddess with the red mane.”
“Perhaps you shall. She’s in the real world as you shall be too,” the man who is Haiku replies.
The witch adds, “Whatever happens, we wish you the best of luck with this next step of your journey. If you make it back to the real world, please don’t expect too much or too little.”
If?
I leave the realm of the overlords and materialize in a new strange medium, waiting for my last hurdle in the Ten Sigma Program.
Below, a blue sphere recedes, and soon, I’m hugged by cold and darkness.
As I shiver, a distant lattice of stars appears.
Instinctively, I swim for my salvation.
However, with each of my strokes, one of the bright points fades into blackness. Terrified by the implications of being left with nothing, I hurry, my heart pounding from the exertion.
When ten of the original hundred specks remain, I do a mental countdown, and when the mental countdown hits one, I thrash in panic.
However, instead of dimming, the last flares with warmth.
Before I’m encouraged too much by the good fortune, my body quakes from the lack of oxygen. I try to suck down a breath, but nothing catches in the strange environment. The medium isn’t meant to sustain life.
Hurrying as the spindly fingers of darkness once again gather, I reach the beacon, only to find a thick, frosty material blocks my path.
The final test from the overlords.
My fist smashes into the barrier. A welcome pain radiates from my knuckles, and my anger rises. I embrace the dark emotion. With renewed strength, I push forward and attack the only thing standing between myself and the goddess with the red mane, the sole reason for my existence. After my hands bruise too badly, I crash my forehead into the unyielding surface. A crack forms, and screams of delight explode in my mind. Dizzy, I punch the fractured obstacle again, and the breach widens.
I
must prove myself worthy of the goddess with the red mane.
Jinn wasn’t worthy. Only I am.
She’s mine.
Rage consumes me, even as my body spasms for oxygen. With one final Herculean effort, I blast toward my destiny.
This time, the immovable object shatters, and my essence flows into the beyond.
When I touch the light, my awareness shreds into a million pieces.
Sixty-Four
A breath expands my lungs to bursting, and a blinding light assaults my vision.
As the world comes into focus, I raise my arm and shield my eyes. A white smock made from a papery material crinkles as I study my new surroundings. A long hospital bed lies under me, and I’m dressed as a patient.
Blue eyes between a surgical mask and cap lean into view. “He’s awake,” a male voice says.
“Where am I?”
The mask wrinkles from a smile. “I imagine you’ve had quite the journey. I’m Doctor Sims. I’m in charge of reintegrating your consciousness with your new body.”
Voices pop into my head. Dreamy Cheri, adventurous Saya, cautious Jake…
Even Cat and Jet.
Feeling guilty for leaving them behind, I push myself up with a wobble.
“Whoa, not so fast.” The slim man calls over a couple of white-garbed assistants, who grab my arms and steady me. He says, turning away, “I need to run a final diagnostic to ensure you’re functioning at peak efficiency.”
While he goes to a tall, clear panel, a woman pulls a metallic band from my forehead. It connects to a glassy sphere topped by a ring of gold.
“Welcome back to the real world,” she says from under her surgical mask.
I take a deep breath of sterile air and knead my temples, remembering my purpose.
The goddess with the red mane.
Powered by the thought, I jump to the floor.
The other people hold me in place.
My anger builds. I’ve already sacrificed too much to delay. I have to find the goddess.
Something is wrong.
I can’t shake away the restraining hands. Although I remember everything about the scenarios and the final campaign, I’m not even sure how to clench a fist.
The doctor returns. “Please relax.”
“Where are the threads?” I yell.
“That knowledge has been put in stasis by the device we’ve placed around your neck.”
