“Kasumi, NO!” Aquila screamed as her creator was blasted into the sky. Cap took off, speeding to the vortex to wrap his arms around her. Around them, even more of the grass erupted, creating new ribbons of energy reaching into the sky.

    “I’ve got her!” Cap shouted. “I’ll protect her. FIND US!”

    “No, wait!” Aquila cried. “I’ll fly! I’ll–” The grass erupted under her, throwing her into the air. The filmy threads of a newly created information stream surrounded and embraced her.

    And then she was somewhere else.

    Aquila blinked. She was standing on a residential city street, lined with trees. To the west, Mount Fuji rose in the distance. A young couple with a stroller ambled past, ignoring her.

    Tokyo, she thought. I’m in Tokyo. But which Tokyo?

    Her brain felt fuzzy, although she was in some sort of waking dream. She shook her head to clear it. The waking dream remained.

    First step, check the information stream, she thought. She reached out with her mind, as she had always done. Nothing. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind and concentrating. Thousands of information streams flowed into the sky just within the area around her, branching out into infinite ribbons as they connected to story worlds.

    It was a hub world. By why was everything so hard? She had never had this much trouble using her powers.

    Still, she was in a hub world. That meant that all she needed to do was to get into one of the story worlds, and follow her own information stream to Kasumi and Cap. With luck, they were already figuring out a way to give Daiki what he would need to find them.

    She picked an information stream at random and channeled her power into creating a portal into it.

    Nothing.

    Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and focused. Creating a portal was easy. She just needed to open a doorway and tether it into the information stream. The flow of information to the story world would take care of the rest. She opened her eyes.

    Nothing.

    She forced down a rising panic. Something was wrong, but she still had options. It was unorthodox, dangerous, and probably a bit stupid, but her own information stream connected directly to Kasumi. She could try to connect her portal to it, ride it down, and hope that nothing went wrong when she landed. She extended her powers to reach out to it.

    It wasn’t there.

    Aquila’s eyes widened. That couldn’t be! Her information stream had to be there! The only possible reason that she wouldn’t be able to find it was–

    A girl with light blue hair in an open long flowing military coat with a popped collar turned the corner and began walking towards her, eyes downcast and muttering under her breath.

    Aquila stared. There could be no doubt – she was staring at herself. The girl walked towards her, lost in her own world. Aquila stepped back and looked at her as she passed. She was wearing her usual grey trousers and riding boots, but her shirt was light blue to match her hair, a cartoon kitty drawn on the front.

    This is my past, Aquila realized. I’m inside my own information stream.

    “Maybe just ‘Hi, I’m Aquila!’” the girl muttered. “No, that’s not right.”

    Aquila smiled faintly as she looked at the shirt. She remembered that shirt. She used to wear it all the time – she had picked it because she knew her creator loved those kinds of cute animated cats. She’d stopped wearing it after–

    Her eyes widened. No, not this! Show me anything but this!

    Her younger self turned into a driveway across the street from where Aquila was standing. As she watched, the girl took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, fidgeting as she waited for somebody to answer.

    A tear rolled down Aquila’s cheek. Please, don’t show me this. Any day but this.

    The door opened. A middle aged man, tall and lean, looked down at her. “Can I help you?” he asked.

    The younger Aquila took a deep breath. “Is this the Agawa residence?”

    The man nodded, his face expressionless.

    The girl took another deep breath. “Is Kasumi home? I know you’ve never met me, but I’m a friend of hers from very far away. I really wanted to come and meet her...my name’s Aquila. I’m sorry...I’m really nervous, I guess. This is a big day for me.”

    As she watched her younger self, Aquila began to cry.

    “You’re too late,” the man said, his tone flat and emotionless. “She’s dead.”

    The younger Aquila stared at him in shock. “What?”

    “She threw herself off a building six months ago,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

    “No, that can’t be!” the younger Aquila stammered. “Could this be the wrong house? Is there maybe another Agawa residence with a daughter named Kasumi? She’s really tall – about five foot eight – and she likes to wear her hair in pigtails. And she really likes drawing, and animated cats, and–”

    “That’s my daughter,” the man said. “I told you, she’s dead. She was too weak to handle the world and she killed herself. Please leave.”

    The man closed the door. Aquila wiped the tears from her eyes. He’s lost and confused and hurt, just like I became, she realized. But I didn’t know enough to understand that yet. I thought he was just being cruel.

    Her younger self staggered back down to the street. “No,” she muttered. “No, that can’t be. I only just managed to get here. I...” She slumped down against a tree, hugging her knees.

    “That’s a nice coat,” a voice said. “Are you a cosplayer?”

    The younger Aquila looked up to see a little boy, perhaps twelve years old, standing beside her. She gave him a fragile smile. “I don’t know – what’s a cosplayer?”

    “Somebody who dresses up like a character from a movie or anime,” the boy said. “You look like you’re from an anime. Which anime are you from?”

    “I don’t think I am,” the younger Aquila said.

    Aquila closed her eyes and sighed. This was the moment my war started.

    “You should be,” the boy said. “You’d be great at it. But you should dress like somebody from Mech Battles Ultimate. That’s the best anime. All the explosions, the people dying, the blood...”

    “That’s a lot of suffering,” the younger Aquila said, wiping her eyes. “I don’t think I like suffering very much. Wouldn’t it be better if it was something nicer?”

    “That’s all boring,” the boy said. “A good story has lots of action, and explosions, and blood. My papa says that good stories are the most important things in the world.”

    “Is that right?”

    The boy nodded with pride. “My papa knows everything.”

    The tendrils of information stream caressed Aquila and tore her away. And then, she was somewhere else.

    She stood by a bridge over a river. Beyond the river lay a castle, white limestone shining in the sun. Hovering high in the air, her younger self, her coat buttoned up, faced down against a blue ornate battle mech. Two rings of longswords spun around her, criss-crossing in their orbit.

    Aquila’s shoulders slumped. Please stop showing me my shame.

    “Lady Atlantia,” her younger self declared with a vicious smirk. “The princess magical knight who pilots a mech. How very fantasy and science fiction of you! I think your creator must have difficulty making up his mind.”

    “Who are you?” Atlantia demanded, her voice ringing out from a speaker on the mech. “Why are you here?”

    “I am the bringer of truth!” the younger Aquila said with a flourish. “I am here to tell you that you are a creature and slave of the evil gods of creation! You and your people suffer for the entertainment of their world. And I have come to liberate you!”

    Aquila reached into the inside pocket of her coat and clutched the ring inside, Atlantia’s sigil crest pressing into her palm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

    “Join my crusade!” the younger Aquila demanded. “Together we will take the creators’ precious stories from them. We will make their world pay for enjoying our suffering!”

    “Listen to me,” Atlantia said. “I can see how much pain you’re in. But you don’t have to do this. You don’t need to be lost in anger.”

    “I’m sorry,” Aquila whispered. “I knew you were trying to reach me and help me, even then. But I was so afraid of what would happen if I let you, or let go of my anger. I’m so very, very sorry.”

    “Please, let me help you!” Atlantia pleaded.

    “Enough!” the younger Aquila shouted. “If you won’t join me, then die! Twenty-third Stage of Creation!”

    The mech disintegrated into particles, a young woman with long, flowing white hair falling toward the ground. With a sneer, the younger Aquila sent a dozen swords flashing downwards to where Atlantia would land.

    Atlantia hit the ground but kept falling, disappearing as the swords impaled the area where she had vanished.

    “Very odd,” the younger Aquila muttered.

    She’s in the hub world now, Aquila thought. Meeting the sage and leading the other side of my war.

    Aquila let go of the ring, took her hand out of the coat pocket and leaned against the bridge. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please know that I’m sorry.”

    “Who are you?” the younger Aquila shrieked.

    Aquila blinked and looked up. Her younger self stared at her, the rings of longswords accelerating around her.

    “Wait, you can see me?” Aquila said.

    “Of course I can see you!” her younger self declared. “You’re standing out in the open! Now tell me who you are! Are you some trick by the gods of creation?”

    Aquila shook her head. “No. I’m no trick. I’m you, from long after the war is over.”

    “Nonsense!”

    Aquila took a deep breath. “I remember being you. I remember being so lost in anger, and so afraid to let go of it. And you...we are going to do terrible things that will haunt us for the rest of our lives. But there’s a miracle at the end, a miracle that saves us and...and has to happen. And I’m sorry, but it can only happen if you stay the course and hurt all those people.” She sighed. “It all has to happen.”

    “This is a trick!” the younger Aquila declared, shaking her head. “Why are you trying to trick me like this?”

    “Listen to Ragnar,” Aquila said. “Whatever you do, always listen to Ragnar.” She sighed. “But telling you this is useless. I don’t remember any of this happening. Which means...”

    “No you don’t!” her younger self cried. Aquila invoked the Thirty-first Stage of Creation to erase her younger self’s memories at the same time her younger self invoked the Twenty-seventh Stage of Creation. A blast of energy ripped through her body, tearing her out of the world. Aquila screamed in agony.

    As the searing pain faded, she found herself floating in the void. The wispy blue ribbons of particles of her information stream flowed around her.

    She looked out at the void. A multiverse unfolded around her, intermingling galaxies of story worlds attached to and orbiting the hub world that created them. Hub world after hub world appeared before her eyes. On almost every one, there was a war between the creations.

    Sometimes, it was started by a devil king with the powers of a god. Sometimes, it was a minor deity, or a creation like herself. Against them was an infinite array of mages and mech pilots.

    Her eyes widened as she looked deeper, seeing the details of the wars. Some were fought over the creators, while others were over the story worlds. In some cases, the war was fought to bring the story worlds into collision with the world that created them. Sprinkled throughout the multiverse, she saw the voids where they had succeeded, gaping maws where the story and hub worlds had once been.

    One of the wars caught her eye. A young woman with white hair in a military coat not unlike her own fought a magical knight flying a mech in deserted streets. Aquila stared harder, straining to see the details of the war.

    The woman turned to look at Aquila, nodded at her, and smiled.

    Aquila startled, jerking back. The tendrils of information stream, disturbed by her movement, began to caress and pull her along, faster and faster, until they were dragging her along its current. Story worlds flashed past.

    And then she was somewhere else.

    She found herself on a hill overlooking a large half-timbered building. She took a deep breath and looked around. This was a story world, one she had never seen before. The feeling of the waking dream was gone.

    I’m out of my information stream, she thought. I’m free.

    She sat down on the hill and hugged her knees. Pain throbbed at her temples, as though too much had been crammed into her mind at once.

    “Aquila!” a familiar voice called.

    She looked up to see Kasumi running towards her. As she stood up, Kasumi wrapped her arms around her, the collision nearly knocking them both over.

    “You’re safe!” Kasumi cried. “I was so worried!”

    Aquila buried her head in Kasumi’s shoulder. A tear ran down her cheek. “Me too,” she said.

    “What happened to you?” Kasumi asked once they separated.

    “I...I...I’m sorry,” Aquila replied. “I don’t know how to...please, ask me later.”

    Kasumi nodded. “Okay.”

    “How long have I been gone?”

    “A couple of days,” Kasumi said. “Daiki arrived yesterday.”

    Aquila stretched. “That’s not too bad, then.”

    “It’s a peaceful world,” Kasumi said. “Daiki says its from a genre called ‘quiet slice of life,’ or something like that.”

    “We’re overdue for that,” Aquila said. “Is that an inn?”

    Kasumi nodded. “We’ve got rooms there until the end of the week.”

    “Good,” Aquila declared. “I’m starving.”

NEXT: “Preparation”