*
The next five hours were relatively peaceful, with only the odd snore or sleepy murmur to break the silence. Maloch was as patient as a rock, standing over his sleeping companions with unmatched vigilance. However, in deference to their earlier aggression, the ç'aether did not come closer. Even the rune-like veins of crystal embedded in the floor seemed noticeably less bright, and their periodic pulses were fainter. Eventually, starting with Barsch, they began to awaken. Still toting black rings under their eyes and stiffness in their joints, they managed to rise. Barsch's great yawn was mimicked by Kingston, and was imitated -though in a much smaller and dignified capacity- by Alza. All three of them looked as if they had just walked a thousand miles, and Barsch felt as if he had done just that.
Kingston tried to lighten the mood with mindless small talk, but no one was ready to listen. As he was fetching his belongings, Barsch almost fell asleep atop of them, and it took every ounce of his willpower to remain awake. Alza repacked the same item three times before she realized her mistake, and Kingston stood staring at the wall for four minutes while trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. In short, three of the four people in that cave were nearing collapse from exhaustion, and they had only just woken up from a five hour nap.
Once everything had been packed and all traces of their presence had been removed, Kingston spoke, “Alright, let's move out. I know that you're all tired, but the faster we get out of this place, the better.”
Barsch nodded and fell in behind Kingston, who was trying -and failing- to create a fast pace. Alza walked behind Barsch, temporarily suspending her policy of isolation. Maloch, the only member of the group with any energy, brought up the rear, to guard against attacks. They left the small cave without looking back, unwilling to remember the events that had happened within.
The cave led out into a larger tunnel, with room enough for all to stand tall. After an hour, their normally orderly pace was in shambles, and each member of the group moved to their own rhythm. Kingston had fallen behind, with only Maloch there to prevent him from collapsing entirely. Barsch's youth had given him a slight advantage over the others, so he was able to maintain Kingston's former pace and lead the pack. Alza was left in the middle, although this fact did not seem to bother her as much as it should have.
Another hour passed with no change, save for the fact that Kingston collapsed once and had to be picked up and carried by Maloch. The ç’aether lining the tunnel had become more numerous, and each vein lit up as they passed. It would have been a beautiful sight to see: a tunnel drenched in violet light that ebbed and flowed like the tide, but for the occupants of the tunnel, it was a kaleidoscope of misery.
The constant fluctuations in light gave Barsch a headache, while simultaneously making him feel light headed. He began to see strange shapes in the light, which danced to a beat he could not hear. The shapes took turns mocking him with their vigour and brilliance, which only served to make him feel even more tired. With every fluid-like movement, the shapes robbed him of energy, while their rhythmic patterns brought him closer to collapse.
In an effort to stay awake, he began focusing on one of the shapes, willing it into staying still. However, it only solidified under his glare, and became even more defined. The violet shape, a mere shadow on the wall, changed and convulsed as he stared, becoming the silhouette of something he knew quite well. He knew that outline as well as he knew his own body.
The long, flowing hair, combined with the lithe figure and the violet shade: it was Alza. For an instant, he thought about turning back towards the real thing, in order to check if she was still there, but something stopped him. What if she was gone? What if she had become the silhouette? Whatever his reason, he could not stop staring at the dancing outline.
As he stared, the silhouette continued to gain definition, first in the shape of her eyes, and then the rest of her started filling in. Her ivory hair, her pale skin, her soft lips which never smiled, it was her. If he had not seen it happen, he would have thought it was a reflection in the crystal. And then she changed. Without warning, her hair began to darken, her eyes changed to amber and her skin became tanned. Her immovable lips, against all logic, morphed into a small smile.
It was her, the woman of his dreams. He could already feel the sensation of peace steal over him, as his mind told him that this was right, that she was right. The tunnel had become the glade, with only a few glowing veins of ç’aether to tell him that he was not really there.
All in all, it was one of the strangest things that had ever happened to him, which was saying a lot. It was as if his dream had invaded reality, and was hell-bent on taking over. Would the dream replace his reality, if he let it? Barsch was tempted to find out. “Wait... if Perfect Alza is here... then that means...” Barsch could not even allow himself to finish the thought.
“Barsch, m'boy, is everything okay?” Kingston's compassionate voice sounded muted to Barsch's enraptured senses. The words became muddled and distorted as they reached his ears, until the original message was indecipherable. To Barsch, time had stood still, waiting for him to finish his staring match with the ideal Alza. To everyone else, he was walking as if possessed, with a blank look on his face and his eyes vacant. He was staring at a nondescript space on the tunnel wall, no different from the hundreds of feet of similar rock they had passed by.
However, as Alza and Kingston stared at the spot through tired eyes, something began to appear. At first, they thought it was a shadow, or a trick of the light, but it movements foiled both explanations. The shape continued to gain definition and clarity, as it's true form, Barsch's Perfect Alza, entered into reality. Mercifully -for Barsch at least- the image did not progress any further, opting instead to remain a rough outline of a girl. It was obvious that it was Alza, but the ideal version's odd characteristics -the golden eyes and the dark brown hair- did not materialize.
Back in Barsch's closed off world, things were worsening. As feared, the image of Perfect Alza had begun to change. Beginning with her kind, amber eyes, her entire form was twisted into a dark counterpart to the original. Her eyes became a set of ruby jewels, which glowed with a harsh light. Her hair was bleached until it regained its bone-coloured shade. Her skin became ashen, while the smile on her soft lips curdled into a blood-chilling sneer. In mere seconds, Perfect Alza had become Alza the Monster, and she was every bit as terrifying as before.
“No. No. NO! Stay away! Stay away from me!”
To Kingston and Alza, Barsch's terrified shout seemed unprovoked, as he began moving away from the shape-adorned wall. Kingston tried to reach out to his fearful companion, but Barsch evaded him, his terror clouding his judgement. To him, only the monstrous Alza was real, and she was trying to kill him. The real Alza, Kingston and Maloch were only shapeless shades to him.
“Barsch! It's not real! The ç'aether is affecting your sub-conscious, and your fatigue is making you hallucinate! Snap out of it, m'boy!”
Alza was about to join in, but something stopped her. A voice of power, one that was used to its every command being obeyed, had spoken.
“You are a reject, a failure, and you will never survive. I reject you, I reject your existence. You are not worthy of life, you are not worthy of living. I reject you, I reject your hopes, your dreams. You have failed me, you have failed all of us. I reject you, I reject you, and you deserve to be destroyed!”
Alza's scream of terror was almost identical to Barsch's. With fear in her eyes, she fell to her knees. She knew that it wasn't real, she knew that it was an illusion caused by her exhaustion and the ç’aether, but that did not stop the fear from consuming her. She could not move, she could not even speak. She was frozen, while her body burned from within. Fire filled her lungs, as she stopped taking breath. To Kingston, her actions were a mystery, but a pattern was beginning to emerge, a pattern that did not bode well for him.
“Maloch, something is wrong. I don't have time to explain, but if I start ac
ting strangely, get us out of the tunnel.”
“Order received, master Kingston, but may I ask why you would- five minutes and nineteen seconds left. Population: 9923. Four minutes fifty-six seconds left. Population: 7759. Three minutes left. Population: 5216. Two minutes and thirty seconds left. Population: 3001. One minute left. Population: 2012. Thirty-eight seconds left. Population: 955. Eleven seconds left. Population: 256. Three, two, one... zero. Population... 0. All occupants have expired, and it's all your fault. You killed them. You killed them. YOU KILLED THEM ALL!”
“NO!” Kingston's scream of pain was performed in perfect harmony with Alza and Barsch's. Their three-tone roar rumbled the cave, sending ripples running through the bright crystals. Together, they stared at nothing, seeing and hearing things that only existed in their minds. Barsch was trying to flee from Monster Alza, Alza was trying to block out the condemning voice, as Kingston tried to cower away from his imagined failure. To Maloch, his three companions had suddenly gone mad, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Kingston, Barsch, Alza, are you alright? I am afraid I do not know whether or not you are acting strangely. Can you please tell me if you are so that I may carry out your order?”
With the last vestiges of his sanity, Kingston managed to utter, “Help us!”
“Order acknowledged. I will comply.”
Without waiting or second-guessing himself, Maloch moved forward with super-human speed. Like an unstoppable juggernaut, he scooped Kingston up in his gigantic arms, before moving on to Barsch and Alza. Alza tried to dodge his grab, but he was a highly advanced machine with monstrous strength and she was -for all intents and purposes- a fifteen year old girl. After she was bundled up in Maloch's arms, Barsch was the only one left. Ultimately, the difference in strength between a fifteen year old girl and a sixteen year old boy proved to be minimal, and Barsch was shortly scooped up like the other two. With all three of his companions in hand, Maloch took off down the tunnel.
Awakening Page 203