Agony split his skull in two, the memory of his awakening in the Cradle becoming lost within the chaotic whispers of those that had followed –

  ‘Eyes devoid of pupil, iris, and sclera; instead, replaced by all-consuming orbs of roiling gold and sapphire, stared back – so vibrant that they glowed – the swirling and coiling movement of the colours making the molten orbs ever-changing, ever diverse. They were like miniature suns, containing a gravity of their own, pulling him into their orbit and leaving him utterly hypnotized.’

  ‘Within the confines of a grand gazebo – made from roots, branches, leaves and flowers – the floor remained the same liquid glass as before. But from the shimmering surface thick tree roots spread into wider trunks, etched with glowing writing of an unknown dialect, rising to form the pavilion structure’s pillars. They opened into a canopy of woven branches, clear crystalline leaves budding from them to create windows to the sky above, making a conical roof like that of an acorn.’

  ‘… For all that Vetem may resemble the games you may have once known,” Slitted amber-dappled eyes flared with power, a burst of mist creating an ephemeral sheet of glowing words, “This new life of yours is no game; be wary for the fact that for all its wonder and beauty, that this world can and even will scar and break you just as permanently, just as viciously, as the one you leave.’

  – Yet more memories filled the void behind Aapep’s words, becoming an incessant mental tinnitus that made his head spin with vertigo.

  His arms pushing him up off the floor – in much the same way as he had first risen after his digitization – lances of pain caused him to grunt and groan. He looked out through harshly squinted eyes, finding his surroundings very much different than the ones of his earlier memories.

  Appearing like fractured glass, crystalline shards hovered in the sky above, shimmering in a dizzying kaleidoscope of volatile colours. Sparks danced along the sharp edges of the shards – jumping from one to the next – flares of versicoloured light occurring erratically across the majority, while on others…

  His memories played across.

  Ranging from the vibrant and clear of the most cherished experiences, to the dreadfully warped and nightmarish of those most hated; he forcefully tore his sight away from the myriad mute memories, the whispers of their presence beckoning his attention so he may become lost within their contents… again.

  “I can’t risk losing myself like that again… not now.” With a herculean effort, he wrenched his mind out from the grasp of the insidious chaos overhead and stood up, trying to use the movement to banish the memories that had entrapped him.

  Those of the day leading up to his awakening and just after, lingered at the edges of his consciousness, instances flickering into his senses as though he were there once again…

  As though he were Isaac once more.

  A sharp lance of pain speared its way through his mind at the thought, the world around him twisting in upon itself, the furious fractal sky coruscating with volatile bolts of humming energy. Cracks in reality opened around him, hovering in the surrounding air, the edges of the tears flaking into shimmering motes of light.

  Through the slits and gaps of instability he could see an… emptiness, a… darkness so deep that his sight seemed to dim at the barest glance, its bare presence making his thoughts stutter and chitter with a fear as fathomless as the cause, “Not… NOW!”

  His eyes squeezing tightly shut, a guttural scream ripped out from his throat, the sound joined by something else. Like the static before a storm, his hair stood on end, a buzz of energy racing through his body to spin within his throat.

  He felt a searing heat grow as the energy rapidly revolved at the back of his throat, pain of flesh melding with the agony within his head, his psyche quailing under the fusillade of overwhelming sensation…

  When, in a similar fashion as ears popping under pressure, the power – and pain – released.

  He opened his eyes to witness a glittering whirlwind swirl about him, the reality that was once breaking reasserting itself under the mesmerizing gale, fragments lost returning from where they had disappeared like pieces of a puzzle fitting back into place.

  A weary sigh of relief passed his lips, however – as his eyes turned upwards – the anxiety that had momentarily fled returned. The sky remained a mess of sharp glittering fractals, seemingly becoming more turbulent and splintered with every beat of his heart.

  “No more time then…” His voice was rough and tired, every fibre of his being feeling as though it were being torn apart to resemble the sky above, but he ignored the torment and exhaustion wracking him to wave a gust to his hand.

  “Just like… Magic.” He mused sluggishly, aware of the fact that – as much as it appeared – he was less so performing magic as he was manipulating his thoughts…

  Emplaced inside a tangible realm of his consciousness as he was.

  While the memories surrounding the how and why he had ended up in his current situation were as ephemeral as the wind that began to build above his palm, one thing was clear. I am dying.

  The sky overhead was only as broken as he was, its increasing volatility a foul portent of his state and of how little time he had left, “Then I have no choice but to do things quickly.”

  With the frustration that he had lost time to reliving a past he was soon to abandon, the orb of wind in his hand unraveled, visible strings separating to create two hovering “screens” before him.

  Each was edged by braids of burnished silver, while the panes between were like that of a clouded sky – undulating greys and muted whites moving about their faces – as words appeared across each, pushing past the clouds to rest upon the surface –

  – He looked between each of the floating screens, less so reading the contents as feeling the weight of the choice they represented. Each bore the onus of being a path forward, however – much in the same way as the process that led him here – there was a… permanence to his decision that could not be ignored.

  With a flick of his wrist the right screen – baring the Sphinx – shifted and changed, detailing a wholly different set of information –

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  – “Survival… but at great cost.” With his breaking down and decaying, came a singular avenue in which he could retain some semblance of life… though he was unwilling to think of what would follow as being his own.

  “No, whoever will come from my choice will be but a facsimile of myself…” Reservation and anxiety coiled in his lungs and up through his throat like smoke from a dragon’s maw, making his chest feel tight and painful. Just as I am that of Isaac’s.

  In a sense, he thought it… better that whatever life would be led by the incarnation – of himself and Isaac both – would be unburdened by the awareness of its creation and previous existence, allowed to exist without the feeling of usurpation as himself.

  “I’m almost jealous.” His voice held the slightest hint of a reserved mirth, a hand breaking the screen apart to reform into the last of those he had been imparted by Aapep, before his being sequestered to choose –

  While it did not completely evaporate his hesitation, what he had last been provided with mitigated a great deal of the fear he had surrounding his choice and what would follow. The awareness that, in some small manner, his short existence would live on into the next, a comfort in the face of sudden nonexistence.

  Even if it was created more for the sake of his predecessor than he himself.

  The Trait – as it had been detailed – allowed for some semblance of identity to persist; all of the experience and knowledge that resided within his mind being provided a route through which it could be transferred, rather than lost, once becoming a Denizen. “At least… that’s how it was explained to me if memory serves.”

  He had his doubts regarding the efficacy of the Trait, as well as whether or not there was more to the Trait than described; however, with a deep sigh of resignation, he bade the screen to change once more.

  “Worrying will just waste what little time I have left.” Preternatural Wisdom disappeared, replaced by the details of the Sphinx. “And… its not like I’ll be the one worrying over the Trait once all of this is said and done.”

  His eyes skipped between the two Races – Qilin and Sphinx –right back to where he had been in choosing what form would proceed him. Damaged as he had become, he was forced into deciding between Monsters rather than the more familiar fantasy races, their differences from himself – supposedly – providing the “Gods” and Arbiters of the Cradle’s digital space the material necessary to repair what was breaking down.

  Numerous forms had been evaluated and discarded a list of countless narrowing down to just the two; monstrous but not naturally malevolent, powerful but not to the point that his presence would demand hunting, and different enough in form that his fracturing being could be repaired without being so… alien as to overwhelm the lingering Identity that would come to inhabit it.

  “The Qilin and the Sphinx…” His sight lingered on one of the two in forlorn reminiscence, stubborn memories and emotions of a life experienced only through the window of recollection drawing him towards it…

  But he didn’t allow the echoes of a past his only in thought, to move his hand. “My choice has to be what is best for the future, not in placating the past…”

  He stared intently at either screen, comparing and contrasting the two in every manner he could possibly conceive, trying his best to determine which was the best… only for his attention to inevitably be drawn away from the analytical and surmounted by the emotional.

  He snorted forlornly, looking beyond the panes hovering before him to quaint intimate moments of a bygone world. “But it seems the past may be too stubborn for me to disregard.”

  Both Races were equally powerful, and with so little information regarding them, there were only so many inferences that could be made about their individual efficacies… making the allure of an emotional decision all the more tempting.

  “Even if I try to distance myself from your life, somethings are just too important to leave behind. Huh, Isaac?” A soothing voice whispering into his ears, a comforting touch running through his hair, stories and words of love and compassion filling his mind with relaxation and imagination; the memories – just as the arrayed Races – were powerful ones, overwhelming in the weight they held upon him.

  “Truth is, the choice was made from the start…”

  With a wave of his hand one of the screens dissipated, the silver braids unwinding to release the cloudy sky within and allow it to fall to the ground like a bank of fog, leaving but the one behind.

  He moved his attention away, staring up towards the fractal sky, “I have made my cho-!”

  The words lodged in his throat, a dry gasp escaping him while a brutal wave of agony ripped through like a tsunami does a coastline, dropping him to his knees. The world above flared and cracked, reflecting the turmoil within him, the emptiness of the beyond peeking through yawning gaps opening in the shard studded sky.

  Tears came to his eyes unbidden, a silent screech escaping a mouth opened in a rictus of torture, his every nerve feeling as though it were being held to an active generator. He was frozen by pain, thoughts unable to pierce the tempest of anguish that whirled around his mind, left to suffer in mute fear while the world around him collapsed in on itself.

  “help.” The small plea was like a butterfly in a tornado, completely drowned out by the gale that consumed everything in its surroundings…

  However, much as the beat of one's wings was said to bring about hurricanes, was his desperation heard by something beyond.

  The sky flared with golden light, strings piercing through reality to cover the world in a tapestry of shimmering metallic fibres. With every second passed their numbers and size grew, the strings losing their more ephemeral nature to become branches, vines, and thick trunks of etched metal that embedded themselves into the ground with audible *thunks* and *cracks*.

  “Yigg.” Again, his voice was a minute and weak thing, trembling like the last leaf hanging from a tree before winter. The pain was receding, Yggdrasill’s presence protecting and bolstering him, granting a respite from the decay that assailed him… as temporary a relief it may well be.

  Three particularly hulking trunks touched down before him, their glittering surfaces seeming to push back the haze of agony further and assist in reasserting something resembling his prior composure.

  “Choice… made.” He rasped, a trembling hand sending the yet still hovering screen forward towards the center trunk, where it became subsumed by the light emanating from it.

  The left most trunk flickered, a feminine voice emanating from it, “Are-are you alright?” While the throaty voice trembled with nothing but concern and panic, for some reason he felt little comfort from the words. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end, a sort of… instinctual unease lapping at his psyche from something that wound between her words.

  “I am far… from alright, Tiamat. But… I am fine enough… to see this to…. the end.” He quickly shook off the feeling, answering her concern with as much composure as he could to assuage her fears, before quickly shifting his attention, “You there… Pep?”

  The right most trunk flared, a far more comported – yet no less concerned – voice echoing in tune with the shining light, “Yes. What- what is it that you have need of?”

  He smiled weakly at the faux seriousness of Aapep’s tone, the fear and anxiety obvious to him despite the efforts to hide them, “Don’t have… enough time… to choose those Traits. So I’d like… you to-you to choose them…. for me, please.”

  A short silence followed before, Tiamat spoke up instead, “I’ll do it. Aapep can-”

  “No, Tia.” His voice was stern and strong despite the frailty that suffused him, “I would like… Aapep… to choose for me… if he would like.”

  “I will do so immediately.” Aapep’s voice shook slightly, his emotions too volatile to completely suppress, “Though I will be borrowing Tiamat to assist, if you are amicable of course.”

  He caught the underlying shift in tone with regards to Tiamat, that odd unease that her voice had caused feeling almost… vindicated by Aapep’s taking her out of the equation, “If you feel… her insight is required… I could ask… for no better minds… to do this for me.”

  Both trunks seemed to brighten with pride, his words appearing to do as he had hoped and placating Tiamat before a problem could be made.

  “I will choose nothing but the best for you, my Abzu.” Tiamat replied fervently, the deep purr of her voice sending a shiver down his spine, a chaotic mingling of anxiety and euphoria clouding his thoughts for an instant.

  “We will make sure to choose your Traits with all due consideration; keeping them within reason while also making sure they are the most beneficial options we can procure.” Aapep didn’t have the same sort of zealousness to his tone, but the sheer solemnity that he carried instead acted in much the same capacity, “It is only right we do so much, after all you have done for us…”

  With his final words, the trunks on either end faded in vibrancy, though the leftmost one felt reluctant at its having to withdraw, the surrounding light lingering for a moment longer than its rightmost counterpart.

  “You are relived they are gone.” The centermost trunk brightened, an amorphous sound – like a crowd reciting passages in unison – enveloping him within their susurrus, “Their admiration and respect too much for you as you are now.”

  The statement came from a voice of thousands, one folding into the other like sheaves of paper to create a tome, making a singular out of the countless, “Your doubts of self, make doubt of their familiarity and devotion, though…” The voices paused, a hum of pique making the myriad golden branches and vines shake, “We see that some doubt and wariness may well be necessary.”

  Roots broke from the ground to wrap around him, bringing him to his feet from where he still remained crouched, the mystery of their final statement quickly moved past, “But, no matter your reservations in yourself, We know who you are at your core. Your name matters little to us, how you came to be matters little to us; but the character that sits within you, that you act upon despite your misgivings, tells all.”

  “We know who you are, and we know – with confidence – that even through the experiences you will undergo in this new life ahead, that the man at your core will remain.” The metallic tendrils bloomed with light, scintillating crystalline leaves and flowers appearing across every vine and branch, those around him coruscating with a rapidly increasing pulse of illumination, “Our ally. Our friend. Our Creator.”

  He tried to speak, to reply to Yggdrasill’s confidence in him, but found his voice gone. For all that Yigg had protected him – while They had spoken – his body had finally failed. He couldn’t move, his senses were distant things, but his mind… his mind yet remained.

  “I had so much more left to say and ask: What comes next? Do all of you understand that for all my doubts and confusion I still appreciate you all? Did Elijah, everyone else back on Earth, and all of you listen to my- Isaac’s final message?” His mind raced as Yggdrasill’s cords began to wrap around his head, his thoughts a confused mess of panic and regret, before settling with a familiar relieved finality “I guess… all of that matters little right now. So, I’ll settle for what I should have said while I had the chance…”

  “Thank you, all of you, for being beside me and Isaac both…”

  Quickly cocooned within Yigg’s grasp, light began to blur past in streaks of undefined colours, a surrounding hum turning to a teeth-rattling frequency, “Our time grows short. Yggdrasill’s voice was clear even through the hum, “So, in the time we have left, We wish to say goodbye and good fates, to our dearest friend…”

  It was an odd experience to hear a smile come across a voice consisting of hundreds, if not thousands, “And that, We look forward towards the if time when you will return to our fold, standing amongst us as you always should.”

  Confusion ran rampant through his mind at Yggdrasill’s words, the surrounding lights and sounds reaching an equally astonishing crescendo, bathing his world in brilliant sound and white light, “What does that me-?”

  ―――――――――

  He awoke with a start, flailing about in confusion as things began to fill his mind.

  Concepts, descriptions, opinions, perceptions, and knowledge, that he became startingly aware he should have no understanding of, affirming themselves in his thinking as though they had always been there.

  As though they were his own.

  He stumbled over his own legs, just barely avoiding stepping on – or tumbling over – his siblings and mother, making a trail towards the pond that lay partially lit through the rents in the cavern’s ceiling.

  “Rents? Ceiling?” He thought, then immediately paused, tripping over his legs and falling uncomfortably on his face.

  His thoughts were frighteningly clear.

  They were like his mother’s; clean, controlled… old.

  His battered and raw mind urged him back to his feet, pulling him to once more walk towards the pond.

  On unsteady legs he approached the still water, wondering through the pain in his head why he had such a desire to see himself, “What has changed? What is wrong with me?”

  Fear intermingled with the desire, changing his stride to a desperate and unstable sprint.

  The sprint caused him to lose his footing, rolling end over end, only to halt just at the edge of the pond.

  His mind once more incessantly demanded he rise.

  That he look into the water.

  That he see.

  He shook with fear and stood once more, hovering just out of sight of the water.

  His heart beat erratically in his chest, every step closer feeling as though he were moving legs made of stone.

  The pond was unbothered by his panic, placid and tranquil. The cloudy beams of light hitting the surface reflected, and filled, the cave with enough of a glow to make out details even without his enhanced sight.

  Yet, finally making the last step and leaning over the pond, he felt as though that light brightened just a little more.

  He gazed into the water, the light working in conjunction with his vision to display his features in full. His face was as youthful as his siblings’, only just shy of their fourteenth year; and only a stone’s throw away from stepping into their juvenile stage.

  He had a sharp chin and cheekbones for his age, though they were softened by the young fat that still clung to him. His skin was a dark tan, with a pronounced and warm red undertone that made him feel... happy, for some reason. His eyebrows and lashes were thick and full, the same rich black colour of his hair, and stood out just enough to be visible against the fur that covered his forehead and his nose.

  The fur was the same colour as that across the rest of his body, a unique black and deep red undercoat with white at its tips. Starting from the black triangle of his lower felinid nose, and up its flat and slightly tapered bridge, the shorter fur faded up into his hairline.

  His inspection drew his eyes over his hair and to his ears. The two triangles twitched unconsciously at his attention, their position further back on his head causing them to rise from his short and unruly mane like fur covered mountains.

  He moved them on his own; feeling as the tuft of fur obscuring their openings and the hair surrounding them tickled him and made him smile.

  His smile exposed his teeth, all a muted gold at their root and whitening to their tips, as well as the four long and sharp fangs that rested within his mouth. It was a carnivorous grin – unsettling to likely all but himself and his own kind – but as he looked back into his own eyes, it felt… right.

  Under the nightly conditions, his pupils were massive abyssal orbs, but what little of his irises that could be seen filled him with an odd sense of contentment.

  They were both separate colours; his left eye a rich green, like plants glutted with water after the rainy season, and his right a bright blue, like clear water under the light of the Brothers. But their presence caused his mind to calm, the sharp pain from the sudden appearance of so much information fading as he fell into his own sight.

  He sat back on his haunches, vision still locked on his own reflection and let out a shaky breath that he barely realized he had been holding.

  “I don’t know what has changed.” He mused, the awareness that his mind had drastically changed obvious through the clear form his thoughts took, “But it feels… good? Not in the sense that I am comfortable with everything now filling my head, or this… unsteadiness that I feel throughout my body. But that this shift in myself is meant to help me more than harm me.”

  There was another sharp twinge in his mind, causing him to narrow his eyes, “Though I guess only time will tell if that feeling is true or not…”