I shouldn’t be holding my breath over this — the boss is far too fickle for that. More than likely he’ll send back a big fat “DENIED” without rhyme or reason…

Anis taps my shoulder. “Mike, you alright? You’re shaking…”

“Yeah, I’m all good. Just stressed.” I give her a reassuring nod.

“That’s not ‘all good’, then,” Vita says.

“It’ll pass as soon as we get these results —” 

My electro-clipboard chimes with a loud ‘ding’. The sudden sound startles me; I nearly drop the damn thing. Not like it would break if it fell, but… I’d be embarrassed anyways. I check to see what all the fuss is.

A notification popped up on the screen while I wasn’t looking.

“Quick, what does it say?” Anis chirps.

I open the message.

“Merge request for world 95086 has been approved. Return at once.”

The words don’t scan right in my mind until I feel a warm, rough hand on my other shoulder. 

“Clark,” Leon says. The traces of a smile play out on his face. “We’ve done it.”

We’ve done it! We’ve saved this world from dying — and now our job here is done, we can finally go back! I’m itching for a warm shower and a full meal; the field rations are nice enough, but nothing beats a piping hot plate of whatever slop of the day I feel like eating.

“High five, Mike!” Anis holds her palm out to me. Our hands make contact without missing a beat. Nice! 

“Yes,” Lysander mutters, tapping his foot, “I suppose this must be cause for celebration… After all, this is somewhat of a ‘mission’ for you ‘missionaries’… and your success means…”

Vita chips in. “We will be returning to our own world now, Guillemagne. Orders from above.”

“So soon?” Lysander narrows his eyes. 

Anis pats his arm. “Trust me, Guil, you haven’t seen half of what we’ve dealt with.”

Thankfully, Lysander escorts us back outside, so we see none of the monsters he was so worried about. Once we get enough distance between us and the village, we find some free space to travel back. 

Without further delay, Vita cocks her warp gun and readies it, shooting for the air above a particularly nice patch of grass. She probably already entered the coordinates.

“Apologies if this is too much to ask for,” says Lysander, “but may I accompany you?”

“Visitors are always welcome,” Vita replies.

“How cordial!”

Vita’s finger rests on the gun’s trigger, and on the side panel I can see she’s only got four charges out of five left. I imagine the vial draining of all its electricity, discharging into the empty space around it. I briefly imagine how sick I’ll feel after going through the gateway, but I force myself to stop.

Leon places his hand on Vita’s shoulder. “Let me do the honors,” he says.

“Leonard? Why?” Vita turns towards him, taken aback. “You’re on your last charge. Something might go wrong—”

“It’s just going back.”

Leon punches in the return coordinates on his warp gun. He aims in the same manner Vita did before, holding the pistol with his knuckles over the grip. 

“We’ll be fine.”

He pulls the trigger.

The world around us explodes in a burst of hot, fast light, moving away from the barrel of the gun like the petals of a blooming flower facing the sun. I cover mine and Lysander’s eyes so that neither of us go blind. His skin is reassuringly, humanly warm.

Eventually, the light fades and we’re back to eye-safe levels. I take my hands away, back to resting at my sides.

“Come on, everybody.” Leon waves us over. “Let’s go home.”

The gateway’s open, finally. Lysander marvels at it. It is marvelous — a jagged hole cut with pinpricks of light like stars in the night sky, like a broken window in midair, undulating darkly inside, pulsing in a multitude of muted hues…

“What is that device? Soundless, yet with such an impact!” Lysander gushes. “Is there more technology of that caliber in your home?”

Oh, um, guess he wasn’t looking at the gateway so much as the guns. 

“You’ll see,” says Leon. 

On the other side of the gateway is home… home at last. We pass through the wormhole without any more talking. Leon goes first, and the rest of us follow — Lysander and I last. It’s a parade of silence through a sea of stars.

The stars give way to another space-time rift and I see a city — my city, my home, the city where I belong — a glittering metropolis rising beyond the rift into the boundless sky above.

In a blink we’re on the other side of the gateway, past the grassy plains. The air tastes sour — my tongue sits dryly in my mouth. Reflexively, I cough. Yep, I feel like vomiting. 

I look around and check that we all made it. Nobody else is in the return terminal with us. Looks like we’re the last batch of people back from other worlds today. Same old city, same old coworkers… same new Lysander?

Lysander. Lysander turns back just in time to see the gateway closing — like a holey piece of fabric being sewn shut.

“It’s gone…” he trails off. He casts furtive glances all over the place before at last turning to me, eyes wide like porcelain saucers. 

Right. It’s his first time in a city this big, or one this modern. It must feel like a dream to him… or maybe a nightmare. At least the ground beneath isn’t too different from where we started, a nice big patch of green grass — long as you ignore the concrete perimeter around it.

“Don’t worry, you can go back anytime you like,” I say. “It’s not a one-way trip or anything like that.”

“Huh?”

“What Michael means is that you may return to your world with our assistance,” Vita adds on. “The gateways themselves are temporary, but creating them is not a problem.”

Lysander relaxes somewhat. He gazes upwards — oh, shit, now he’s definitely gonna feel out of place!

Across us, past the waterfront, the sun sits low in the cloud-filled sky, dying everything a hazy red-orange. Must be around 5:30 PM, just the right time for an early dinner. Not at all what I’m worried about.

What’s worrying (at least it must be worrying Lysander) is the architecture. Even the skyscrapers must be unlike anything he’s ever seen; I bet those tall oblongs of gleaming metal and glass have no equivalent in his world. Monorails criss-cross between the buildings and head off to destinations unknown, while all around us the flow of people continues ceaselessly. The patch of green beneath us is accompanied by trees and other shrubbery, but what dominates the landscape is the urban architecture — an intimidating sight even for people of this world.

“Goddess above!” Lysander cries out. “What is this place?!”

A smile spreads across my face. “Welcome to my world, Lysander. Hope you like it.”

“I, well… I certainly can’t hate it.” Lacking better words to describe it with, he shrugs his shoulders. “Who’s in charge of this spectacle?”

“Let me explain, Guillemagne. Our world is led by the Chief Executive Officer, Mélange. You called him ‘the Patchwork God’. He built this world — the Patchwork World, sometimes known as the ‘Patchworld’ — from the scraps left by other worlds, thus creating a ‘patchwork’; since he is this world’s creator, and the highest authority within it, he is our ‘god’.”

Yep, Vita’s right like always. This is the heart of the Central District, the biggest slice of the biggest city in this whole wide Patchwork World. People from all over come in to try and improve their fortunes by siding with the Patchwork God — the big man up top who resides in the tallest tower of the Central District, which just so happens to be sitting not more than three paces away…

Lysander stares blankly ahead. “Ah, I was wondering what that was in relation to…” 

“Since our world’s creation, he has been expanding this realm by merging worlds like yours into it — worlds that are falling apart. It is a mutually beneficial relationship; territory and resources are added to our stores, and the people of dying worlds get to live longer lives than they would have before.”

Lysander closes his eyes. “Shouldering the burden of all the moribund… he sounds like an admirable man.” He opens his eyes to look at Vita. “I would like to meet him.”

“You’ll have to wait. There’s a long list of those who want to do the same; his time is very scarce.” 

She’s making the boss sound so heartless… I’ll jump in with something nice of my own. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, Lysander. Whenever he does.”

Leon clears his throat. “So, Mr. de Lothaire, what are you doing next?” 

“I, ah…”

“Someone will have to supervise you to make sure you don’t get up to no good. Won’t be me, though. I’m going out for some bingo.”

“Bingo night? You wanna get beaten by the other old folks again?” Anis punctuates her remark with a giggle.

“That was one time, Hoshizora. One time.”

“Aw, just joshin’ with you, Leo. You’ll defo win tonight.”

“Yes.” Leon looks between the two women. “Now can I trust either you or Vita with our guest?” 

“Nah, I gotta catch up on my lectures! I haven’t been in ages!” Anis pouts, already making to leave.

Vita shakes her head. “Sorry, Leonard. I have some administrative business to complete.”

“Fine.” Leon stares at me dead-on. “Don’t keep Mr. de Lothaire waiting, Clark.”