As soon as they had let go of each other’s hands upon landing, Natsuki was rubbing hers together for warmth. She looked around. They were in some sort of castle, the room illuminated by torches mounted to the wall. The air was cold and clammy. A tiny window let a modicum of sunlight into the room, but far from enough to illuminate it properly.

    She heard Aquila curse under her breath. “I’m sorry everybody,” she said. “I thought we would be outdoors somewhere.”

    “I like it,” Yukari declared. “It’s all...atmospheric. Like some sort of ghost story.”

    “Is it a ghost story?” Kasumi asked.

    Aquila shrugged. “I didn’t have time to check. I’m sorry, but if I take more than a couple of seconds to screen the next world, I could lead my counterpart to us before we have a chance to jump.”

    “I’m not hearing anybody,” Cap said. “If there were guards around, I imagine I’d be able to hear them patrol.”

    “We can take that as authoritative, I think,” Aquila said. “Let’s get out of this room and get our bearings.”

    As they filed out of the room into the dimly lit corridor, Natsuki buttoned up her toggle coat. Better to be warm than not. She glanced at Yuraki, who was zipping up her leather jacket. Yukari grinned at her.

    Natsuki smiled back and followed her out of the room.

    “Maybe it’s some sort of Gothic romance,” Cap said as he walked at the front of the group. “Some forgotten nobleman in a deserted castle waiting for visitors, that sort of thing.”

    “That would explain the lack of guards,” Aquila said.

    “That sounds romantic,” Yuri said, taking Cap’s arm in hers. “Like some haunted prince pining for their long lost love.” Cap gave her arm a soft squeeze.

    Natsuki frowned. Every move Aquila made was filled with tension, as though she was expecting something to leap out at her at any minute. Combine that with the bags under her eyes...

    “Is it just me, or is this place a maze?” Kasumi asked as they rounded their third corner.

    “It does seem that way,” Cap said. “I think I’m ready to call this ‘Gothic castle world’.”

    “I can think of worse ways to spend the day than exploring a maze,” Yuri said. “Reminds me of that world with the big hedge maze we got lost in.”

    Somebody tapped her on the shoulder. Natsuki jumped, and then turned to see Sayori staring at her.

    “Are you okay?” Sayori asked as they walked.

    Natsuki nodded. “I’m fine. I’m just not sure about...” She motioned at Aquila.

    Sayori grimaced. “Yeah. Me too.”

    “Just how big is this place?” Yukari wondered ahead of them.

    “It probably looks a lot smaller from the outside,” Cap said. “These places are like that in stories.”

    “Writers not paying much attention to whether the inside and outside match up,” Aquila muttered. “And that’s assuming that this isn’t supposed to be one of those cursed buildings where the inside is in some other dimension.”

    “I hate to say it, but once we find a large room or intersection, we’re going to need to split up,” Cap said. “I don’t know if just picking a direction and walking as a group is going to get us anywhere. We need to cover more ground.”

    “I can’t protect people I’m not with,” Aquila stated.

    “I haven’t heard anybody arrive since we got here,” Cap said, tapping his ears. “No sonic booms. I haven’t heard anybody else here at all. And we all have cell phones, so if I do hear somebody arrive, I can tell you.”

    They came to a large vaulted dining room. Ornate windows with tracery filled the wall in front of them, the sunlight streaming in. Each of the two walls to the side had a carved doorway.

    Cap glanced around and then looked at Aquila as Natsuki and the others filed in. “This works as well as anywhere. Two groups, you lead one, I’ll lead the other. We walk for an hour in each direction, and then meet back here. If one of us finds the door outside, we call the other.”

    Aquila sighed. “Okay, you’re right. But, Kasumi and I created those phones – for all we know, using them could attract my counterpart’s attention from the hub world. Only use one if you hear somebody arrive.”

    “Does anybody mind if I form a group with Aquila?” Natsuki asked. “I was hoping to speak to her alone.”

    Aquila and Kasumi exchanged glances. “I don’t mind,” Kasumi said.

    Aquila shrugged. “Okay, then. You want to take the right or the left, Natsuki?”

    “The left, I guess,” Natsuki replied.

    Aquila checked her watch. “See you all back here in two hours. Lead on, Natsuki.”

    Natsuki opened the door, wincing as it creaked.

    “I guess oiling hinges is bad for creating atmosphere,” Cap commented behind them.

    Natsuki stepped through the doorway into another long corridor. “This layout makes no sense.”

    Aquila nodded. “It’s a place created to be evocative instead of a real building. Then the information stream makes it real, and here we are.”

    They walked down the hallway, turning a corner. Natsuki took a deep breath. “You know, you’re not alone here. You don’t have to do all of this yourself.”

    Aquila sighed. “I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, I really do. But...I’m afraid this time it really is all on me.”

    “But you told us you saw all those other wars, right?” Natsuki said.

    Aquila nodded. “For the ones led by somebody like me, mine was one of the smaller ones, but also one of the bloodier ones.”

    “So you’re pretty powerful, though, compared to the others, right? You wouldn’t have been able to...to kill all those...”

    Aquila stopped and leaned against the wall. “I wish I could tell you that I was an all-powerful god of destruction in my war, and the others like me paled in comparison in theirs. But, when it comes to levels of power, I was near the bottom compared to everybody else. My ‘gift’ was that I was a very thorough killer. That’s why my war was bloodier than many of the others – I always made sure they were dead before I left the battlefield. I’m sorry, but whoever we’re up against is probably going to be more powerful than I am. I saw people who could literally rewrite reality so that if you stabbed them in the heart, it’s your heart that gets stabbed instead. I’ve never been able to do something like that.”

    “So what about negotiating with them?” Natsuki asked. “I mean, you keep saying I’m a genius. Surely with my brains and your experience from being there, we could–”

    Aquila shook her head. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be that lost. I hope you never do. Your story world didn’t exist during my war. But if it had, and you had encountered me back then, I wouldn’t have cared what you had to say. I would have frozen you in place, murdered the protagonist in front of you, and then mocked you for even trying...and if you were lucky, I might have left you alive.”

    Natsuki paused. “I’m sorry...I keep trying to picture you doing these things, and I can’t. I can’t imagine...you...as being that cruel.”

 

   Aquila closed her eyes, leaned her head against the wall, and sighed. “That’s a blessing of sorts, I guess. Probably better that you can’t – there’s a reason I talk about the things I did back then as unforgiveable. When I went into romantic comedy worlds in my war, I alternated between leaving the main girl alive and killing her. They reasoned, they begged, they pleaded, and they cried...and I laughed at them for it.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Don’t throw your life away trying to reach somebody who can’t be reached. Just run and hope they don’t catch you.”

    “Surely not all of those wars...not all of the people like you...were...”

    Aquila gave her a sad smile. “I wish that were so. But, they were all just like me. When you’re lost in anger, all you have is cruelty.”

    Natsuki frowned. “And the other side? Were they also–?”

    “You mean the magical knight and the mage?” Aquila said. “They were the heroes of their worlds. They were on the side of the angels.” She blinked. “It’s always a magical knight – or mech pilot – and a mage leading the other side. Never quite understood why.” She took a deep breath. “We should get going. The exit isn’t going to find itself.”

    Natsuki nodded. They resumed their long walk down the winding corridors.

    “There’s something else bothering you,” Natsuki said.

    “I suppose I should have expected you would notice,” Aquila said. “I haven’t put my finger on what it is yet.”

    Natsuki frowned. Aquila’s body language was obvious – she was lying.

    They reached a three way intersection. Down each of the paths was another corner and a hallway leading forward.

    “This must be the border of a room,” Aquila said.

    Natsuki shook her head. “This layout really doesn’t make any sense. Who builds a room at the end of a long corridor and surrounds it with corridors?”

    Aquila shrugged. “Somebody who has never been inside a building before. Pick a direction.”

    “Let’s go with left,” Natsuki said.

    Aquila gave her a smile. “Lucky left.”

    They went left, and then turned the corner. As Aquila had predicted, a couple of dozen feet down the hallway was another corner, bordering a room. The had reached the second corner and could see the doorway down the hall when she heard the raised voices.

    “And why would I believe a word you have said?” a young male voice demanded.

    “Because all I’ve done is told you the truth,” a quieter rougher male voice replied. “This world is nothing more than a story, a fiction created by the creator gods of another world. You solitude, your suffering, it all exists solely for their entertainment. They may even be watching you, right now.”

    Natsuki glanced at Aquila in alarm. Aquila had stiffened.

    “It’s him,” Natsuki whispered.

    Aquila nodded. “He doesn’t know we’re here yet,” she whispered. She motioned back the way they had come. Natsuki nodded.

    “And your solution, against these creators gods who can make entire worlds, is to go to war?”

    “They create us to be stronger than they are,” the second voice said. “That is their weakness.”

    Natsuki crept carefully down the corridor, Aquila beside her. As they got further from the door, the voices became fainter.

    “Think about your world, and you’ll see the truth of it,” the second voice declared, his voice now raised. “Why would anybody be left alone in a castle like this? Why would any noble live in solitude on his own lands? Why must you be made to suffer in this place, waiting for your story to start, if not because the creator gods want to watch you suffer?”

    “And you want me to join you in a war against them? Everything you say is madness!”

    Natsuki reached the corner, Aquila right behind her. Aquila stiffened.

    “What I have to do here requires your cooperation or your death,” the second voice declared, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’d rather have your cooperation, but I can accommodate you on the latter if you wish.”

    “Get down!” Aquila hissed. Natsuki dropped to the floor.

    With a thunderous blast, the wall beside them was obliterated in blue energy. Natsuki scurried around the corner on her hands and knees, Aquila right behind her. Another blast wiped out the corner and the wall above their heads.

    “That’s a pity,” the rough voice said. “I really wish you had joined me. Now, let’s move on to you, my little eavesdroppers.”