Dimension

by Shay Zana

  As they take their first bites, he watches their dark faces expectantly, and sees each of their features lighten in pleasant surprise. The meat tastes good, and usually his cooking is terrible.

  "Deo, this doesn't taste like shit!" Boone remarks with a mouthful.

  "My food never tastes like shit," Deo replies just as smartly, giving a half laugh and cutting himself a large portion of meat from the bone.

  Boone gives the other Paragon a curious stare. “You usually hate being on cooking duty, but when you can gut and cook your own kill, you’re suddenly head chef?”

  Deo shrugs playfully. "You’re just jealous. But don't think just because I can cook better than you that I've gone soft like you."

  "Uh huh," comes Boone’s sarcastic reply, smiling and shaking his head in good humour.

  As soon as they finish eating, Natheus urges the others to get some rest before Messiah rises, kneeling comfortably amongst the tall grass.

  "Wake me in an hour," Mazayus demands quietly as he settles. "I'll take the second watch."

  Natheus turns his head slightly and gives a tight nod, continuing to scan the jungle as the skies begin to slowly brighten to a pale Olympus morning.

  FORERUNNER OF DISTORTION

  The air carries a heat beyond belief. A thousand stars combined cannot meet this heat, this heat that I feel beneath my very skin, surrounding my very soul, possessing my spirit.

  A crescendo of fire.

  My sight falls downward, to my hands, the tools nature gave me. Burning, they are aflame, craving immersion with the blaze, my skin seeping with liquid flames, melting me from within.

  An inferno of flaring might.

  Ignited molecules cascade and fill the mist that is the air. I breathe in, lungs amplifying, desperate for air, but I cannot feel the oxygen release my desperation, my lungs are hollow.

  I breathe in fire.

  I can see distant skies like a river of fire, streaming overhead and pouring humid and searing intensity onto me. Amongst the skies are burning moons, cracking and fracturing in orbit, cores freeing lucid energy, falling slowly toward the planet's surface.

  Devouring the skies.

  Now as I look down to the ground beneath my burning toes, I can see the grass is not grass, but many flickers of fire, dancing and imitating the once existing grass of Olympus. The plates beneath the fiery soil grind and clamour, letting out violent screams of pain. Ripples of pressure erupt along the grounds, deep shockwaves and rocketing pulses.

  Sparks of rising power.

  I begin to run, but my body moves as if in slow motion, a weight pulling me back and preventing me from escape, the holocaust stalking me. Evil fire.

  Feet dragging, I flee from the terror. My tears evaporate in the red heat, but still, I weep.

  A faceless man ahead dissipates in a wave of flames, his crew howling in bouts of tormenting pain, their soulless vessel imploding into ash.

  A rare herd of canterpaws disintegrate in a fume of lava that has erupted from the breaking ground. I watch in trepidation as a lone canterpaw runs wild, its once beautiful fur now slashing with flames as its cries reverberate toward me, calling for help, but I am powerless to aid it.

  I can feel my face contort as I silently scream at the creature, scream at the deaths, scream at the dying environment, scream at my pain. My throat aches with the tears and the screams. My eyes burn with the tears and the screams. My soul hurts with the tears and the screams.

  Still, I run, blinded by the white heat, breathless in the suffocating air, deaf in the war drums of nature, voiceless in fear, my shrieking screams obliterated.

  I see children now, fleeing with me, their faces dappled with ghostly horror. As they glance at me in pleading, I see their pale faces, so untouched that they appear inhuman, a pure picture of the afterlife, unborn. But as I try to scream at them, bellow at them to run faster, they vanish in clouds of black dust, their little white faces now black with evil ash.

  Such violent chaos. Mayhem beyond existence. Never have I witnessed such destruction, such cruel menace. What gods would create such a power?

  The planet crumbles around me as I run, my feet burning in fire with every slow and heavy step. My body begins to give in, my spirit giving up hope, not wishing to see this anymore, just wanting to enter the abyss, yearning for darkness.

  In the mists of the burning jungles, I see the holy warriors, their faces accusing me, fighting with very ounce of remaining energy to repel this evil. Mazayus' glowing entity envelopes him as he shouts at the other Paragons, directing them to fight like the fighters they are. Deo's entity is alive with the fire around him, burning from his violent eyes. Natheus’ entity cascades over the flames, reacting to the heat with every movement, and Boone's entity mists from his skin, blocking out the explosive heat as he moves through the fire. Together they fight the blaze, sprinting as fast as their bodies will carry them, running toward the now black star in the sky, the distorted Messiah.

  I watch as the warriors battle to reach the blackening star. I want to yell at them that Messiah is not responsible, that the dying star will not stop this, but my vocal chords are blocked by silent noise.

  As I shriek without noise, clawing up my throat in muteness, another noise echoes as if from my own throat. A bright shadow passes over the fiery sky, and the sentient vessel sweeps through the fire, creating a torment of spiralling heat as it passes along the deathly skies.

  Altair.

  The vessel swoops with immense speed, its reaching cry penetrating the lava beneath my feet.

  I call its name, but instead of my voice, its own wailing etches at the insides of my skull, and I am forced to watch as it plummets deep down into the fissure of flowing lava, generating a godly splash as the burning oceans bleed into the sky, and ending with a flash of cyan light.

  My feet stop running, my mind also stops running, and I fall endlessly, down into the breaking planet, down to its core, down toward utter blackout. A million screams are drowned in the roaring fire. The very reality of life is fire.

  I am fire.

  Silver eyes flutter alive, and a breath catches in the throat. Kitera wakes to the sight of the newly born light of Messiah. Her still chaotic eyes take a moment to adjust to the light sweeping onto her face through the gaps in the jungle, causing a sharp pain as her pupils shrink. Warm orange shine highlights the jungle, and if it were not for her trembling limbs, the environment would have a calming effect. She finally exhales and brings movement through herself. There is no fire, everything is how it should be.

  The vision is still loud, still fresh in her mind, its horror and violence so vivid, but also enlightening. Something is drawing near, brewing in the roots of life, deep and raw in the very air she breathes. Just like that fire.

  The Cipher sighs and nonchalantly combs her straggly hair away from her face, now lacking lustre or vitality, meshed with shrivelled leaves. She pulls herself up to a seated position and continues to peer around her surroundings, allowing her mind to dwell on her Paragons, still absorbing her calm.

  Boone is lying asleep beside her, his face half squished as his hand rests beneath his cheek, not looking even remotely attractive with his tongue splayed out. His mohawk no longer peaks in a stiff formation, and a shadow of facial hair defines his jaw, which is a strange sight to her, as he is usually so clean shaven. In fact, the only thing kempt about his appearance this morning is his four tightly woven braids that wrap his head and end in a small rats-tail at the nape of his neck. Boone takes far more pride in his appearance than the others. He also smells bad, she realises with a crinkling of her nose before noticing that she too, smells of body odour and mud.

  Deo is asleep beside the makeshift spit he constructed last night, his back resting against one of the support sticks and his head drooped downwards above his chest. That tiny frown of concentration that usually decorates his brow is gone in the soothing of sleep, replaced by a soft parting of his lips that are framed by the rough contours of
his ever present stubble. His tawny hair is looking just as dishevelled as her own, clinging about his neck in straight wisps, though that is nothing unusual for him. She has caught sight of him a few times standing before a mirror with an impatient expression, clipping the length to keep it from passing his shoulders, and hacking at the strands around his face to keep it from falling into his vision, often venturing on with his day sporting uneven tapers. She had once offered to style it for him, but of course, he declined her, stating that ‘it’s just bloody hair.’

  Natheus is flat on his back, his hands resting over his stomach and his Parallel beside him, like he is ready to wake and pull off an absent 360 no-scope headshot if anyone disturbs him. His hair is still pulled back in a tight ponytail, but ruffled with loose strands escaping. He is also sporting a soft etching of facial hair, his usual appearance also clean shaven like Boone, causing Kitera’s imagination to attempt picturing him with a full-blown beard... No, not suiting his sharp European-descendant features at all. Despite Boone’s eccentric wildness and Deo’s quick temper, Natheus often causes a daunting crawl of coldness to slip down her spine when she considers his killer instinct. He is always just lingering in the shadows, silent and cold.

  She is surrounded by powerful killers, yet she feels at home with them. She feels her lips curl at the irony of it, and also the sight of her quietly sleeping giants.

  Kitera turns her head slightly to see Mazayus standing not far away, his chin raised as if he is smelling the wind. She gently raises herself off the ground and approaches him, her footsteps so silent that even he is startled to see her beside him.

  "My Lady," he greets formally, bowing his shaved head slightly to her.

  “Mazayus.” She returns the bow, and with a great effort, she hides her real face, placing on a mask of serene calm. Glancing up at the towering man, she is like a child beside him. They all look stubby beside him, the other three Paragons far from meeting his height of seven foot two inches.

  "We were to move at the very first sign of daylight, were we not?" she questions him.

  He smirks. "Yes, according to Deo. He is an extremely driven man, but he overestimates his limits. We need to recover from the cryo-stasis if we want to perform to our best abilities."

  "Yes, you are right, about both of those statements," she agrees, glancing back at Deo. "He is an extremely driven man, more driven than any Paragon I have ever guided."

  "And I have the pleasant task of keeping him in line," Mazayus chuckles sarcastically, matching her stare of Deo.

  "You are a great leader, Mazayus. Calm, responsible, wise. But you are not alone in the task. I was appointed to guide us all, yet I cannot do it alone. You do not have to lead, the Paragons have no command structure, yet you do, and we would not have made it this far without you."

  Mazayus inclines his head to her in appreciation.

  "I never did thank you for saving my life aboard Altair," Kitera continues, her eyes full of respect.

  "You're most welcome. I would gladly give my life to protect my Cipher," he replies honourably. "Did Deo ever thank you for going back for him?" He sees a flicker of emotion as she shakes her head, keeping her even stare of Deo.

  "He will one day. Deo has always stood on the very edge of Serenity, a nudge away from the UEU. Even before he was chosen for this mission, he was always doubtful about Serenity and the Ciphers, but his hatred for the UEU fuels his loyalty."

  Kitera's eyes brighten slightly in curiosity. "You knew him before the mission?"

  "Yes, I met him through his father. He hasn't mellowed in his age, I can tell you that now," Mazayus tells her with a hinting smile, a glimpse of bright white teeth to contrast his dark skintone. "His father was also a Paragon, and an honourable man. I served with him many times, and I learned many things from him, and when his death came, he asked me to watch over Deo."

  "I see... How did his father come to pass?"

  "I wasn't there when he passed, but he contacted me before his end. When his body was retrieved, it was reported that he had been killed in action by UEU forces, with a cluster of toxic shards to the abdomen, point blank. The initial entry wounds were not so severe, blocked by most of his armour, but the poison from the shards eventually took him."

  Kitera shivers slightly, a memory seeping through her mind...

  No... Could it be?

  She removes her gaze from Deo, her head lowering in heart wrenching sympathy. "For a Paragon to have a Paragon parent is extremely rare, and for a Paragon to be killed before making their Sacrifice is a great dishonour. I now understand why Deo has so much anger."

  Mazayus hums. "And perhaps that's why he is so driven, because he feels he needs to make up for his father’s shame."

  "He should not feel shame for that...”

  Mazayus looks down at his Cipher squarely. “Deo is like his father in that he feels responsibility for things beyond his power to control. He has always been independent, bottling up his personal emotions while lashing out with pent up anger at unpredictable times. You may have noticed that when we first set out, our training exercises in the cybergrid were unbalanced due to his independence. He was not a team player at all.” A deep chuckle thrums in his chest.

  Kitera sighs, wishing she had taken the time to understand her Paragons better. “You know him much better than I.”

  “Sometimes I feel I do not know him at all.”

  A silence falls between them, until Kitera murmurs, “his father’s dishonour will be avenged, the origin of his death brought to emergence, this I promise.”

  Mazayus glances warily at the Cipher beside him, words even more cryptic than usual. "Do you know something?" he asks cautiously.

  She ponders on her reply for a moment, steady and unwavering. "No."

  He blinks, and now looks away from her porcelain complexion, looking eerily contoured and dimensional, her eyes overcast with a hidden shadow, presence whispering to him of lurking phantoms. In this very moment, Mazayus feels haunted by her eerie company.

  They stand in silence again, Mazayus suspicious, hairs pricked in an unsoldierly spook, and Kitera absent, haunted by her own company. Her face illustrates her troubled mind.

  "What is it?" he finally asks her, concern overpowering his crawls.

  She closes her eyes tightly and takes a deep breath, thankful for the fresh oxygen now. "I have had a vision; of unimaginable violence, undeniable raw power, and of the very fibres of existence tearing at the seams. I witnessed a cold story, of fire and the Underworld encroaching on this world."

  Mazayus' dark face frowns as he studies her drained energy, his black eyes searching. Her reference to the greek Underworld is unusual in that Ciphers do not acknowledge other human religions. The use must have just been for his benefit. "Is this a warning from the Zodiacs?"

  "I believe so."

  He studies her again, more intently, as if he can nab the vision from her mind and witness it for himself, but now turns back to the jungle. "How much time do we have?"

  With a sigh, Kitera glances up at one of the moons visible in the morning sky. So much colossal beauty, yet its fate unknown. Is this an accurate premonition? If so, she feels it is already too late for escape.

  "Kitera?" Mazayus brings her back to reality.

  "It is now only a matter of unknown time, and of fate."

  The Paragon does not fully understand the Cipher's warning, yet he knows it is clear enough that they are all in danger. "I will wake the others, we must move with increased haste from here on out."

  Kitera does not watch him as he steps away to wake the others, but continues her wistful stare, letting her eyes fall upon the grand moons of Olympus. So much fire, so much death, yet there is nothing she can do to prevent this from igniting.

  The war drums of nature are beating.

  The end of Olympus is nearing.

  GUARDIAN VIRUS

  "Something’s inside our network! It must be some sort of counter-virus, I can't get past it!”

>   Chief Lander storms across the room, running to an adjacent console on the wall. He jams his fingers over the solidgraphic keypad, frantically attempting to override the counter measure that the newfound virus has activated. "It's rebuilding the Serenity firewalls and hacking our own program simultaneously, accessing through a backdoor, somebody locate it now!"

  Nearly two dozen tech and software savvy crewmen are populating the facility, and Chief Lander is overseeing the operation, directing everyone with the task of hacking the foreign network within an uncertain time limit. Disconcerting and borderline panic-inducing when it all goes tits up.

  "Chief, if we lose our progress we may not be able to hack back into the network in time. The Commander made it clear that we need to be out of the Messiah System in three days."

  Lander turns his head sharply at one of his technicians. "I know that, Freeman! Don't just stand there lookin’ pretty, get on that console over there and try to piggyback through their network on this damned virus!"

  The technician nods nervously and rushes over to the console where Lander had pointed, his face burning with heat.

  The whole station is in an uproar as Lander's people try to break through the firewalls again and contain the virus, which is growing more resilient the more they try to weave past it. It has piggybacked into their own network, broken through their own firewalls, and is now wiping everything they have downloaded from the Serenity network to their own UEU network within the Marauding Exile.

  "Damn the gods!" Lander yells as he propels his fist through the holographic console. "We're losing everything! Shut it down! Shut everything down!"

  Several cyber technicians, analysts, and hack experts turn their heads at this, but before he can scream at them again, Freeman has shut down the entire system from the command console in the centre of the large room, waiting on Lander's approval, which he gives without a second blink.