The Sphere of Time

by TIME, S. O.

  I, Kou, and Naomi sense the vanishing of a soul. Before us, Isao dies without any further attack from Kou. No one I’ve seen use the serum has survived except me. Kou growls in dissatisfaction, insulted that he couldn’t be the one to finish Isao off. Then we all hear whispering coming from the Tears. I don’t know how I didn’t notice sooner, but they speak in the same manner that the other voices did from before. I think they’re the Lost. The voices of those who were never guided. I don’t hear exactly what they’re saying, but Kou seems to be listening attentively. Suddenly he leaps into the air, flying as adeptly as any experienced Death.

  “Kou!”

  I reach out and begin to rise after him. Before I’m barely off the ground Kou flies into one of the massive Tears. His disappearance shocks my system, dropping me back to the ground. He’s…gone.

  As I struggle to shake off the uncomfortable aftershocks of the abrupt split, a terrible roar begins to roil out from the Tears. As I look up, I begin to see creatures pouring out. Hundreds—no, thousands of nymians, mad with fear and rage, charge out the Tears, driven by the insane souls that have infected this galaxy.

  I turn to Naomi and she extends her hand out to me.

  “It looks like your journey isn’t over yet,” she says as she helps me to my feet. “I’m sorry I have to leave you like this, but my time is long overdue. I truly do hope one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

  I nod and pull Isao’s soul from his body. I turn away from them and open a Tear. Unlike all of the other souls I’ve guided, Isao awakens undisturbed by his surroundings. Naomi reaches out to hold his hand and he watches her for a moment before speaking.

  “N-Naomi? It’s been so long. I thought we lost you.”

  “There’s so much I need to explain to you. You deserve to know the truth about our past.”

  “Our past? What do you mean?”

  Naomi glances at me and purses her lips. Isao turns to me. Despite the look of anger and hatred he had when we fought, I now see the face of a dejected man. A man who has lost it all. I cannot find it within myself to feel any sympathy.

  “I know there’s no forgiveness for what I’ve done. I know there’s no redemption for what my actions have caused. For what I’ve put you all through. For what I’ve put Hitori through. Is this what it’s like to die? I almost wish my mind was still washed over with rage and mistrust. The clarity of everything now is…overwhelming.”

  Naomi tightens her hold on Isao’s hand. I look at her but she turns away from me. Whatever is driving her actions, she must not want me to know about it.

  “I’ve failed both Hitori and Kaori. I wish there was a way for me to apologize to them. I loved them both so much,” he says.

  “Hitori never felt that way,” I reply.

  “When I looked at her I saw Kaori. Every day I was reminded of my failure to them both. By then I’d become a leader. People depended on me. I couldn’t let that weakness show. As Hitori grew, she became Kaori’s spitting image. I wanted to protect her, but I couldn’t stand the shame of being near her. You have to understand that before the first invasion, the history of our Branch was a peaceful one. When the nymians landed, we didn’t know what to do, let alone how to process everything that was happening.

  “Those of us with powerful enough energies had to act. Nothing has ever been the same since. Every day I was plagued with nightmares of what happened during the war. For years I kept reliving the horrors of watching Kaori die every time I closed my eyes. I became obsessed with keeping Hitori safe. I thought that if I could keep her safe, it would make up for failing Kaori so miserably. I really did want the best for her. Because of me she’s gone now, too.”

  No matter what he says, no matter how the deepest, most empathetic part of me wants to try and understand his words, he is the reason Hitori is gone. I want him out of my sight.

  “It looks like the time for you to go has arrived,” I say to Naomi.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more time with her,” she says to me.

  I feel the void in my chest only deepen. They both turn, and, without another word, they walk into the Tear and disappear.

  The earthquakes are getting worse, and the sky is filled with the shrieks of nymians and howling of the tornados. A few heroic evacuation helos make their way through the storm, dropping ladders to the meager clusters of people who have managed to survive the battle. I fly to Hitori’s body and take her to a nearby helo before heading back out to help the remaining survivors. I find myself settling into a numb state as I go about dispatching nymians through the placement of Tears and carrying up injured humans. It’s a blessedly empty feeling.

  As the helos turn back toward the mountain the ground begins to split more widely and deeply. Hot air shoots from these fissures and the air trembles with the brutal wrath of nature, unleashed by enraged souls.

  I float back to sit besides Hitori’s body after the last person has been helped into the helo. As we fly over the city I watch with passive interest as the towers, centers, and statues crumble, falling upon streams of wailing nymians that charge in a maddened rage through the breaking streets.

  A call from Hana pulls me away from the symphony of destruction below. Her voice comes through the holo in short bursts, broken by static.

  “Kou- whe- okay? Hit- the porta-” she continues to speak but I don’t understand anything else.

  “I’m on the helo,” I respond.

  “Kou?” I hear her question clearly. I stare down at my hands a moment.

  “Yeah, mom. I’m safe. I’m on my way.”

  I hear an indistinct but relieved sound before the transmission dies out.

  It doesn’t appear that there’s any way to save this world. For now, we must press forward and begin again on this new planet. We will rebuild. We will be better prepared. The helos fly toward the Kurosawa mansion, to what’s left of our Branch beyond the Tear. Despite the uncertainty of the challenges that lie ahead, I find myself looking forward toward something more than the grief in my heart.

  I’m looking toward Aldrea, my sister, and Hana, my mother.

  I’m looking toward home.

  Toward my family.