Amalgamation

by Lucas Flint

  But it was hard to think about anything outside of the cave because the darkness was so overwhelming that it felt like a crushing pressure surrounded him on all sides. He wondered if that was an effect of the darkness which Scorius had neglected to tell him about or if he was simply tired from all of the action of the day.

  It isn’t like I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep recently, Beams thought, blinking and yawning. If there’s time after this, I’ll see if I can convince the Ariopolitans to give me and my friends somewhere to sleep. Even just a simple power nap would do wonders for my energy levels.

  Beams also felt like he was being watched. He, of course, could not see anyone around himself, but he nonetheless sensed that he was not alone in this place. He guessed that it was the Guardians of the Gauntlet which Scorius had told him about before he entered. He wondered how many there were and where they were. He could sense that the cave was a lot bigger than it looked, but beyond that, he knew nothing. He was just glad that the Guardians were not stopping him. Perhaps the necklace really did work.

  Wonder what would happen if I removed it, Beams thought, glancing down at the necklace around his neck. Could I beat the Guardians before they killed me?

  Shaking his head at the silliness of that thought, Beams soon noticed a light up ahead. It was a tiny light, barely larger than his smartphone’s flashlight, but in this oppressive darkness, it was like a ray of shining sunlight, and it only grew larger the closer he drew to it. Soon, he passed through the light and blinked several times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light.

  Once Beams’ eyes adjusted to the light, he became convinced that he had lost his mind or that this was some kind of dream.

  He stood on a tropical beach on what seemed to be an island of some sort. The sun shone beautifully above, its warm rays a sharp contrast to the cold darkness he had just spent time wandering through. Crystal clear water lapped against the white shore, while in the distance he saw what appeared to be dolphins splashing about in the water. A seagull cawed somewhere nearby, while a massive sailboat that seemed to be straight out of the seventeenth century was anchored just off a peninsula connected to the island.

  Behind him, a massive, dark jungle rose like a cave mouth. He realized that he had just walked out of the jungle because its darkness looked just like the oppressive darkness of the cave. He heard the cries of monkeys, the snarls of lions, and the rustling of tree limbs and leaves as the various creatures of the jungle went about their business.

  A soft breeze blew in from the sea just then, filling Beams’ nostrils with a pleasant sea salt scent. He inhaled the scent deeply, savoring it as much as he could. Beams had only gone to the ocean a few times with his family, but each time he loved it. He hadn’t been there in years, but the scent of sea salt instantly brought back pleasant memories of building sand castles on the beach, wading into the water, and playing tag with James on the beach itself. He half-expected to see his parents and brothers out in the water swimming when he looked out toward the sea, but he did not see any people around other than himself.

  Beams shook his head. What the hell? There’s no way there could be a tropical beach underneath Antarctica of all places. It doesn’t make sense.

  “Many things in this world don’t make sense,” said a voice to his right, “but there are more worlds than these, and many far stranger than you could ever imagine.”

  Beams jerked his head to the right. A massively muscular man, with long black hair and a single loincloth around his waist, sat with his legs crossed on the beach a few feet away from him. Even sitting down, the man was bigger than Beams, but Beams wondered how he had missed such a huge man sitting so close to him in the first place.

  Pushing that thought out of his mind, however, Beams recognized the man right away. “Arius? Is that you?”

  Arius looked at Beams. His eyes looked dead, like a robot’s. “I am not Arius. I am a recording created by him, using his own likeness, to guide potential challengers through the Gauntlet. I see by the necklace you wear that you are indeed a challenger, the first in many years.”

  “So what should I call you, if not Arius?” said Beams.

  “I have no name, but many challengers in the past have called me their guide,” said Arius. “So you can call me that as well if you wish.”

  “Guide,” Beams repeated. “Okay, Guide, explain this beach to me.”

  Guide smiled wryly. “Explain? There is nothing to explain. When Arius built the Gauntlet ages ago, he drew upon his deep knowledge of the multiverse, knowledge subsequently lost to future generations, to create it. He had an understanding of the multiverse which would make even many of your own dimension-hopping friends jealous.”

  “So this is an alternate universe of sorts?” said Beams, glancing around. “Maybe some kind of pocket dimension attached to my own?”

  “Possibly,” said Guide. “But you don’t need to understand it to participate in it. As I said, my job is to guide you through the Gauntlet and explain each challenge to you. Think of it like a video game. You don’t understand how a game works, but you can play it nonetheless.”

  “And how does a, uh, ‘recording’ like you know about video games?” said Beams. “Unless the Ariopolitans also have those.”

  “I read your mind,” said Guide. “When you start the Gauntlet, you forfeit whatever privacy you had before. Your thoughts, feelings, instincts … all of that is like an open book to me. And all of that—and more, so much more—will be challenged in this place, often brutally. You will find yourself pushed to your limits. You will wish you died.”

  “I know,” said Beams. “I—”

  “But you don’t,” Guide finished for him. “You may think you do, but no one is ever truly prepared for what the Gauntlet puts them through. I can sense a determination to succeed in your soul, a fire burning hotter than even the sun, but is it hot enough to keep you going even in the face of failure and doubt? Even I cannot say, because I do not know the future, nor do I presume to know it.”

  Beams said nothing to that. He just clinched his fists, ready for whatever the first challenge was going to be.

  “Having said all of that, are you sure you still wish to continue with the Gauntlet?” said Guide. He gestured with his head back toward the jungle. “A little-known fact about the Gauntlet is that you can turn back even before you begin the first challenge, but once you accept it, you must move forward until you complete all three challenges or die. This is your very last chance to head back and return to your friends. Will you accept it? Or will you reject it?”

  Beams met Guide’s eyes without fear or hesitation. “If you can read my mind like you say you can, then you know my answer.”

  Guide nodded. “Very well. I anticipated that would be your response, but as I said, I do not know the future and I have orders to ask that question of all challengers who come my way.”

  “Seems like a pointless question to ask,” said Beams. “At least, pointless to ask me, anyway. There’s not a chance in hell I would ever turn back.”

  Guide smiled softly. “There are alternate universes out there where you may have made a different choice. Would it have been a better choice? I do not know, for I do not know these universes or the future. All I can say is that you are already displaying the courage and confidence of Arius. That, in itself, is not enough to win the Gauntlet, but it is helpful to have.”

  “Right,” said Beams. “Well, I’m ready for the first challenge. When will it begin?”

  Guide pointed out toward the sea. “It begins out there. It begins … now.”

  As soon as those words left Guide’s mouth, the ocean suddenly exploded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bolt could not believe his eyes, yet there was no mistaking the armored figure lying on the ground at his feet as anyone other than the Midnight Menace. He had the distinctive demonic helmet, black armor, and cape, with his recognizable crimson eyes peering out from the eye holes in his helmet.
He was clutching his chest and seemed to be having trouble breathing, but even in the dim light from Bolt’s hand, it was easy to tell who this man was.

  But it made no sense to Bolt. The Midnight Menace was one of the most famous—or perhaps infamous, depending on what circles you ran in—superheroes in America. He was originally a member of the Neohero Alliance, even recruited into the group by Bolt’s own father, before he broke away from the organization over differences in opinion as to how to approach the US government. He then formed his own organization, the Independent Neoheroes for Justice, which was based in California. Bolt didn’t have a whole lot of experience with the Midnight Menace due to the fact that he belonged to the NHA and not the INJ, but he had met him a few times over the last couple of years and always treated him with respect, mostly because the Midnight Menace was the type of hero whose very presence demanded respect.

  And now I just blasted him with an electrical explosion, Bolt thought. Hope this doesn’t erase all of the progress in NHA/INJ relations the two organizations have made over the last year. Because I don’t think the Leadership Council is going to be very happy with me if it does.

  “Midnight Menace?” said Bolt hesitatingly. “Is that you?”

  The Midnight Menace looked up at Bolt. His eyes showed no understanding at first, but then recognition dawned in them and he said, “You’re Bolt, aren’t you? The son of Genius?”

  Bolt nodded. “Yeah, I am. Sorry for attacking you. It was just so dark and I didn’t realize who you were. Thought you were a bad guy or something.”

  The Midnight Menace slowly sat up. He rubbed his stomach and winced. “The same to you. When you emerged from that portal a few minutes ago, I didn’t recognize you. I only sensed that an intruder had entered the Shadowlands, and I, being the defender of the Shadowlands, came to take you out.”

  “So you’re not angry with me and aren’t going to declare war on the NHA or anything like that?” said Bolt hopefully.

  “No,” said the Midnight Menace. He rose to his full height, which was at least a head above Bolt. “But I am not very happy with being attacked. Your attack could have killed me. Not that it would have made much of a difference here in the Shadowlands, but it was still very painful.”

  “Sorry,” said Bolt again. “Like I said, I didn’t recognize you. If I’d known it was you—”

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” said the Midnight Menace, cutting Bolt off as if he hadn’t said anything. “Omega Man told me you had left our universe to deal with something called the Dread God, but he said he did not know where you were besides that. Was your mission successful?”

  Bolt looked around the shadowy realm in which they stood. “I was going to ask you the same question, about what you’re doing here, but I don’t even know where here is.”

  The Midnight Menace’s red eyes flickered like he had blinked. “This is the Shadowlands. Didn’t your friend Treehugger tell you about it when she was here?”

  Bolt’s eyes widened in realization. Now he remembered why this place seemed so familiar. A while back, one of his friends and former Young Neos teammates, Treehugger, had somehow ended up in a place called the Shadowlands. According to Treehugger, the Shadowlands was a pocket dimension of some sort, a land of shadow and mystery, which was hostile toward beings who did not use shadow. It had sounded very strange and frightening to Bolt, but he had never actually been here himself, which explained why he did not immediately recognize it right away.

  “I remember,” said Bolt. “I’ve never actually been here myself before, though, but it’s even freakier than I imagined it.”

  “You make it sound like you aren’t here of your own free will,” said the Midnight Menace. “Did you end up here accidentally, like Treehugger when she came here one time?”

  Bolt shrugged. “Sort of. I mean, I was meaning to come here, but I didn’t know that ‘here’ was the Shadowlands.”

  “I don’t understand,” said the Midnight Menace. “Are you telling me that you walked through that portal with no idea what was on the other side? No idea at all?”

  Bolt gulped. The Midnight Menace’s glare was a sharp as steel. He was reminded of his late father, who had a glare that could kill specially reserved for idiots who messed up what he considered simple tasks. “Yes?”

  The Midnight Menace sighed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve never displayed the wisdom or intellect of your father. You have the arrogance of youth. You think you’re invincible, but one of these days you are going to run into a threat you can’t simply punch your way through. And then, perhaps, you will learn to be a little bit more cautious when it comes to rushing into danger.”

  Bolt flushed, but then shook his head and said, “I was told the Starborn are here. That’s why I’m here.”

  The Midnight Menace paused. “The Starborn, you say? Why are you looking for them?”

  Seeing that he had no choice, Bolt gave the Midnight Menace a brief but accurate rundown on the situation with the Dread God. The Midnight Menace listened closely, his red eyes not blinking even once during the entire explanation. It reminded Bolt of the rumors surrounding the Midnight Menace, like the one that stated that he wasn’t a human at all but shadow given life by dark magic. He normally dismissed those rumors as silly, but seeing how still the Midnight Menace stood, he sometimes wondered if there was more truth to those old rumors than he was willing to admit.

  “And so the Spirit gave us these coordinates and sent us here,” Bolt finished. “Or sent me, anyway. The others were going to come through the portal, but then the portal closed before any of the others could come through.”

  “Can’t you open it again?” the Midnight Menace questioned.

  Bolt shook his head. “I didn’t open it. Galaxy did.”

  “Then why doesn’t she open it again?” said the Midnight Menace.

  Bolt threw up his hands into the air. “I don’t know. I’m not an expert on this dimension-hopping stuff. I’m just telling you what happened.”

  “No need to lose your cool, Bolt,” said the Midnight Menace. “I was simply hoping you would be able to go back to our universe. But it sounds to me like you are stuck here.”

  “Yeah,” said Bolt. His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t close the portal, did you?”

  “No, I did not,” said the Midnight Menace, shaking his head. “I would have no reason to. As the protector of the Shadowlands, it is my job to keep people like you out. I only attacked you because I thought you were invading the Shadowlands for nefarious purposes.”

  “Then why did the portal close?” said Bolt. “Do you have any theories?”

  The Midnight Menace picked up his sword and dusted it off. “Possibly on the other end closed it. Or perhaps the Shadowlands forced it shut.”

  “Can the Shadowlands do that?” said Bolt doubtfully.

  “The Shadowlands are alive,” the Midnight Menace replied. “Though I’ve served them faithfully for many years, they still surprise even me. It would not surprise me if the Shadowlands forced the portal closed as a protective measure. It may also be the reason why your friends on the other side cannot open another portal here. The Shadowlands does not want you here.”

  Bolt scowled. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m not kidding anyone,” said the Midnight Menace. “Everything I say, I say as truthfully as I can. Unlike some superheroes I know, I follow my principles even when they are unpopular. I wouldn’t lie even to you.”

  “Even to me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Never mind,” said the Midnight Menace. He finished dusting off his sword and sheathed it by his side. “But your story is deeply troubling, though it explains that disturbance I felt in the Shadowlands not too long ago. It was probably the Shadowlands reacting to the Dread God’s resurrection. The Shadowlands has been known to react to events in the multiverse at large.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Bolt. “It’s crazy.”

  “It also expl
ains the odd creatures I’ve seen in the Shadowlands recently,” said the Midnight Menace. “Here, let me show you.”

  The Midnight Menace gestured his hand to the right. The shadows parted to reveal a Darzen standing at attention just a few feet away from them.

  “A Darzen!” said Bolt. His hands exploded with electricity, but the Midnight Menace put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Wait. Look more closely. It isn’t what you think.”

  Lowering his hands, but not shutting off the electricity running through them, Bolt peered more closely at the Darzen. Its armored form was pinned to the face of a giant rock, pinned by a long, black sword that looked somewhat like the Midnight Menace’s. Even without the sword stabbed through its heart, the Darzen’s armored form was covered in various cuts and slashes. Its eyes were dull and blank, without a hint of life anywhere in its disturbing appearance.

  “Is it … dead?” said Bolt, glancing at the Midnight Menace.

  The Midnight Menace floated over to the Darzen and, grabbing the hilt of the sword, yanked it out. The Darzen’s body fell to the ground with an unnaturally loud crash. Perhaps it was just because the Shadowlands was so silent, but it definitely sounded louder than normal.

  Lowering the second sword, the Midnight Menace looked down at the still corpse of the Darzen. “Yes. I have killed at least a dozen of these things over the last couple of days, often multiple within the same hour. Sometimes they’re alone, sometimes they come in small teams of two or three. Until you explained the Dread God and his minions to me, I had no idea what they were or what they were trying to do here. I just assumed they were another inhabitant of the Shadowlands, for there are many varied and strange creatures here that I’m not aware of. Indeed, these Darzens look practically normal in comparison to some of the beings I’ve seen here.”