Sao could confirm he was truly free of whatever enchantment had been skewing his concept of time. The drive to Sigma’s meeting point was agonizing. It was not the fault of the car - the machine cut through the forest smooth as a heated knife through butter. Defiant of its outer shell, it ran like a dream and the interior was immaculate: not a hint of rust or wear, seats covered in plush leather the color of chocolate. Sao wondered if the mishmash exterior was a deterrent for robbers, like the ones who had contributed to the tragic end to Zu’s late brother.

Sao had plenty of time to wonder as he watched the trees crawl by.

His eyes wandered to the gas pedal. Its steel plating was pristine. The brake, on the other hand, was difficult to see because Zu’s foot was positioned above it at nearly all times.

The patrol cars that entered with them had disappeared into the murky wood. There was no sight nor sound of them, in fact he could hear nothing of the forest at all. Unlike Rai’s car, the chief’s was a sealed pod. With the stereo off, there was nothing to be heard but the hum of an engine running comfortably below its limits, and the occasional blip of the GPS, tugging them bit by bit toward their destination.

In any other situation, it would have been the perfect spot for a nap.

At long last the canopy of trees thinned out, and they were greeted by a pair of officers, dashing up, warning them to stop. “He says if we get any closer, he’ll blow the van.”

Beyond them was a rocky expanse and a searing blue sky. On the very edge of the horizon, where rock met clouds in a hard line, stood an unearthly copper cuboid, glinting in the sunlight. An alien craft. Sao rubbed his eyes. The entity sharpened into focus. The TPP van, balanced at the precipice.

“Does he appear to be armed?”

“No. But we found traces of a significant gas leak. He may have a detonator hidden. And the car’s in a risky spot.”

“How many are still being held?”

“Two, from the look of things. Though the material of the van...” The officer turned. “Some kind of military material. He says he’s happy to wait though, until someone named Sao arrives-”

Sao emerged from the car, feeling as he imagined a phoenix would flinging itself free from its own ashes. Gazing at the bronze van, he knew he’d need all that energy. The clearing where the road ended was bright, aggressively so. The forest’s shroud of fog had been needed to hide this unforgiving light, this core where the sun shone its brightest and cruelest. The bronze van glowed with urgency, as if it would soon incinerate where it stood. “Chief.”

“Two hostages...” While his face remained lethargic, Zu was gripping the steering wheel with unusual force. Sao was afraid it would be ripped clean off. But when the hands released, Zu seemed doubly drained. “Your priority is to free them or reveal them so that we can ensure their safety. Sigma has a strong chance of a violent relapse. Or a violent resistance. You are aware of that. Don’t deny his delusions, that may escalate the situation.”

Sao nodded, though the speed at which he’d missed all that advice made him wonder if it was too late to jump back in the car.

Zu dug into his pocket. “You know the man well?”

Sao blinked. “Not really. Though it sometimes feels like it.”

“Are you comfortable with the situation?”

“How could I be?” He chuckled before he could stop himself. “But I can’t just sit here.”

“Let me make myself clear. Before the two officers pictured here, are you or are you not agreeing of your own free will, knowing all the details pertaining to the current case, to meet the suspect Sigma alone.”

Zu positioned his phone before Sao, courteously turned so Sao could watch his own contorted face on the recording. Sao stopped. The burning blood in his veins cooled into an icy trickle. He smiled, and found this time, he could control every inch of it. “Yes, I am willingly going to meet Sigma alone. I acknowledge the risk of getting killed or maimed. In lieu of those that won’t.”

He strolled off, filled with purpose, but when the van loomed close, his pace faltered. He stopped several feet away.

Sigma had an arm hanging loosely from the driver-side window. Smiling flawlessly, with the collar of his calfskin jacket popped, he looked ready to be shot for a wilderness fashion catalog. An impossibly blue sky completed the tableau. Sigma waved, but with his eyes focused on something so far off that Sao wasn’t sure who he was waving to. Where the forest met the plateau, officers and onlookers were gathered in a half-moon around them, reveling a safe distance from the stage. He checked the audience for Rai, but against the glare of the sun, there was no telling a shabby sedan from an ordinary police vehicle from a pile of rocks.

There was nobody else.

“I got your message,” Sigma said. “I know you said I didn’t have to wait up, but I thought I’d be considerate.”

“Thanks. I’d rather have called, but this place doesn’t have the best reception. And Delta wasn’t picking up.”

“Excellent improvisation, then. The Bells love you, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Sao motioned at the blood splatter that had caught the edge of his shirt, and his knee. “Not quite. I think the one I was talking to had enough of me.”

“Well, they’re nothing if not forgiving.” Sigma smiled and held a hand out to the wilderness beyond the cliff. “Look at all that.”

Sao did so, despite better judgment. The sky seemed endless. The evergreen forest, trees which had seemed infinitely tall and dense when driving in their shade, now lay far below, an ocean of green spearpoints lapping the bottom of the cliff. Sao felt a throb of vertigo and his eyes watered. It was something he’d learned long ago: he was simply not built for the crushing glory of nature. No, Sao was built only to lie on his couch and observe the Earth’s beauty in documentaries. Then there the horror that was their vantage point itself. The cliff - he couldn’t even call it beautiful. There was no smooth, sheer drop, but a collection of large outcroppings, like an enourmous rocky staircase. A dozen chances to be smashed to bits, before even hitting the ground.

“Took a while to find this place. It’s even nicer at night. You can see past the edge of the galaxy. Mr. D was the one who told me all that stuff.” Sigma’s smile wavered and he jerked his head away from the cliff, to the barricade of police vehicles opposite. “The residents all jumped ship before we got here.”

“That’s... a shame.”

“I shouldn’t have expected loyalty. It’s fun to collect pretty things, fill yourself with junk food, but that’s all it is. Junk begets junk.”

The skewering of the residents by their supposed leader made hairs on Sao’s neck rise. He pressed a hand to them and tried to look casual. “Where were you hoping to take them after this?”

“Oh!” Sigma brought his hands together in a motion not unlike prayer. “I wanted to introduce them to Des.”

“Was he who you wanted to talk to? Knowing what he-”

Sao slammed his jaw shut. In the blue shadows of the van’s front seat, Sigma’s agate eyes levelled on him.

“I’m aware of what he did. I wasn’t always aware, it was the effect of the Bells, probably. But I know now. And yes, I was embarrassed, remembering even a little made me mad. I probably scared the Joys when I...” Sigma leaned back on his seat. “But it wasn't that bad. I lived, didn't I? And the more I think back to what he said to me - I think he was right.”

“I sincerely doubt that, Sigma.”

“But he was. I owe him an apology. Because he knew - he kept saying it, to me and nobody else, because he knew I was the only one. Be a good person. A good boy, for me, quiet now, smile, we don't want to hurt Mom and Dad... I hurt people from start to finish, and I was never going to turn out good unless I learned to… learned to...” Sigma’s voice rose again. “I should have tried harder. I know he was no saint, but that means he knew all the better. How depraved I would become.”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t know him, but...” From what I’ve heard, I don’t want to know much more. “But Sigma, how is being here supposed to help you speak to him?”

“Where else would I go? You see…” Sigma regarded the sky, the green and the damned cliff again, with the sort of corny smile saved for old friends. “This is where he was taken. The way it happened - turns out I remembered that too. The TPP here’s part of it.” Sigma let his hand fall to the outer door. The brilliance of the bronze plating dyed his palm red. “Of course it wasn’t the Greys who really took him.”

“I don’t -- how much do you remember now?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Sigma glanced into recesses of the van behind him. “It’s sort of embarrassing. I can’t force you, but if you want to have a look, I think this will explain...”

The van’s back door slid open. The scraping of the wheel at the cliff's edge was almost more shocking than the appearance of Delta in the doorway. “Sao.”

“Delta, are you okay?”

“Yes. Why don’t you-” Delta touched his forehead. He had never looked so devoid of color. Truly vampiric, though Sao couldn’t see himself laughing in their current predicament. “No.” Delta set an unsteady foot outside the van. “I can’t stay here.” He stumbled.

“Careful.” Sao didn’t dare take a step. “The van’s looking…”

As if he’d only just noticed where they were, Delta lurched from the door, though one hand remained on some inner bar for balance. “Sao, please get me out of here.”

His hand reached out. Sao smiled. If it was anyone else, he might have had to regretfully back off, but...

But Sigma had gone quiet.

Delta let go of the van and launched at him.

And somewhere in the corner of his vision, Rai burst from the light like a tornado of rags and plowed Delta into the ground. They dragged across the crusted earth in a very grey, very muddy pile until grinding to a halt several feet away. Like a crazed animal, Rai flipped back to his feet with a grunt and began tugging Delta back toward the layer of onlookers.

Delta was sobbing wordlessly. He had a knife in his hands, a tiny one, a keyring. With one flashing hand, Rai grabbed the blade without hesitation, pulled it off as if he were confiscating a toy.

“You were really planning to take a hostage with this?” Rai shook the tiny blade, looking very much the playground bully. Sao could not help but feel sorry for them both.

“Rai-”

Behind him, Sigma clapped his hands and bellowed laughter. “You! Investigator, I always found you a cryptic character. You were never in the least affected by the prospect of stars or hands under your skin. If it had been you instead of Raph getting fixated, I’d probably be tucked into a nice soft bed in a clinic right now.”

“Getting the help you need. Too bad.” Rai pocketed the knife and yanked Delta behind him, shielding him like a protective hunter. No, just willing to get between trouble and its target. 

Though his head was shaking, Sigma couldn’t stop smiling. “What’s your secret?”

“Not pure-hearted enough. And, well, I’ve heard hypnosis just doesn’t work on some people. Just look at the handful of cops you tossed illusions at over the last two years. Inconsistent results at best. But who knows? Maybe if we knew each other better...” Rai threw Sigma one of his unpleasant, thin-lipped smirks. “Or not. Dream logic doesn't mean much to someone who doesn’t sleep.”

“How delightfully literal.”

Sao opened his mouth to concur, laugh along, but stopped. Sigma’s smile was so tight his cheeks were about to split. In that moment Sao realized Sigma must have loathed Rai, someone unable to properly fix a necktie, but at the same time so effortlessly out of his grasp. Sprezzatura pitted against itself. Sigma made inhuman levels of control look so casual it took Sao right back to Manners class, but when inhuman control met Rai's inhuman immunity, Sigma had to put on his real smile, a bitter thing, and force up ugly little platitudes. To compensate he threw his entire weight into every expression - which only intensified the stomach-churning sense of disconnect.

The basis of his acting career.

“Could it perhaps be due to the Life Fountain aspect?” Sigma continued, glibly.

“It would be pretty useless for me to suggest that as a solution.” Rai was dragging Delta off by the armpits, which did little to endear Sigma to him. "But you'll get the help you need. You'll see. This guy too."

Delta had begun to struggle. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But we really can’t stay - Sao--”

Sigma dipped his head, as if putting in a final prayer for Delta. But his mouth was running like a motor, whispering into his chest. Delta’s glassy protests faded. When Sigma turned to see Rai had left, his attention resettled on Sao. He'd softened, his smile shining. He was now the defenseless charmer, only for you, the lucky one. 

The implication of that power being directed at him, Sao was afraid to consider.

“You truly have the touch,” Sigma said, with lethal sincerity. “To think, someone could be friends with my Delta, and also friends with someone as bracing as the investigator. Raph seemed quite fond of you too.” He closed his eyes, savoring what could have been. “I wish you’d joined the Group. Everyone wanted you there. Delta practically believed it.”

“Because you told them to want that.”

“It was just a suggestion. They never had to do any of it.” Sigma sighed. “There’s only one thing I can force people to do. Well, perhaps two, but the second’s not really fit to speak of in polite company.” His lips curled. “But that’s the beauty of it, I didn’t have to force them in any way, they loved you. You’d have fit right in.”

“I don’t think so. I have all these, er, health conditions. And I don’t think I’d make a good resident anyway. I’m known to shirk on rent.”

“Such things are trivial.” Sigma snapped his fingers. “And you wouldn’t just be decoration, like the pretty ones. I’ll admit - that’s what I thought initially, but now? No, you're more like Kiria, that’s who I’m thinking of. Kiri was good with everyone, though full of doubt. She also thought highly of Rai, come to think of it. He reminds her of her favorite film stars, I think. She was always trying to make me watch those stories of hero detectives and hooded slashers...”

“Rai’s no slasher, but he is a fan of bloody films, I’ll give her that.” Sao smiled. “You know, Kiria had doubts about fitting in at Bell too.”

The air seemed to still and thicken around then.

“That was on me.” Sigma again flicked his eyes to shadows obscuring the back of the van. “I really did care what she thought. She and Delta are my grounding points, the way no golden-haired swimsuit model or singer of Bell could ever be. They were my first - the first people I ever wanted. Not just part of a collection. He was the first time, she was the second - the second time I used the power of the Bells willingly, to shape my life, rather than just as a prop to keep it from caving in...” His eyes lowered. “I got too greedy. The Bells were never made to force anyone, only to add a little polish to the preferable path. That’s how I saw it, though old Desmond preferred un-polishing the other paths. If that makes sense.” Sigma turned back toward the sunlight. “But too much polish and a person gets bored and blinded. I should have let her leave. Perhaps it was greed from the beginning, to make her come to me. It’s been no shortage of stress, making her stay. But... I’d have been friendless forever, if I had never...”

“You had the Bells.”

“The Bells aren’t people.” Sigma eyed Sao’s shifting expression. “What?”

“It’s hard to explain. Why don’t you come out and we can talk it over somewhere more comfortable?”

“You seem comfortable enough to be trying my own lame duck of a trick on me. Enough, Sao. What are the Bells, really? How are they meant to be used?”

“It really isn’t easy to explain - there’s some matter of souls, human sacrifices to create a blessing - but all that would have happened long ago. Before even Desmond’s time. I’m quite sure he didn’t make the Bells and how he got them, I can’t say. As for purpose or usage, well, I really don’t know if there’s real technique...”

“Come o-o-on.” Sigma sat back, rocking the van axles. Fear sang shrilly in Sao’s ears, rising with each creak. “I get it, you're afraid I'll set them off if you tell me. Or - no,” Sigma mused, “This is a case of not seeing again, isn’t it? It’s all completely obvious to everyone but me. You’re seeing a world that I can’t even begin to imagine. Where it makes sense as a given...” He gazed out again, into the sunlight. “I bet it’s bright out there.”

It was, indeed, so bright Sao was having a hard time keeping focused. He frowned and, against the wail of his nerves, finally took a step that brought him into the shadow of the van. And the edge on which it placed itself. “No joke. The sun’s merciless today. Why the doubt? What does it look like to you?”

“Dark. Stars.” Sigma stared hard into the raging sun, looking only skeptical. “That’s a droll way of putting it, I suppose I’m just jaded. There are millions of stars, the backdrop to everything and everyone. Despite all the tiny lights, there’s an infinite space for them to light, so it’s dark. And while there seems to be that infinite space, I can’t move in it. When I’m still, I see the Greys, even though I know… I know they aren’t really there anymore. Don’t make that face. I do know what the sun is like. I know when it’s there, even if I don’t see it - it’s that sense I talked about; the feeling that isn’t any of the five senses. But I definitely saw daylight the last time I went camping, hell, I even saw it a couple of times after Des was gone. I caught a glimpse of Bell’s grounds as they were finishing, I think it was the smell being so different from anything I’d known - the flower choices were completely haphazard. It was nice. They were all real. I know all of it’s there now, but it’s different. And only to my broken perception.” 

He turned away, his eyes fringed red. 

“I’ve thought about it. This is why I can’t make anyone stay. I can’t show them anything but this… overblown sky. Sure, the feeling impresses them for a while; it worked on me when I was a kid. And age is just a number. I was surprised even Racer went for it...” Sigma’s face went slightly red and he coughed. “But it’s the only connection I can make. It’s hollow. It’s something that belongs to Desmond, not me. Even when I’m in bed with someone, I feel miles away. Light years. We can't compare stories, make plans, point out elegant fingers and tiny scars and beautiful eyes, think of places we want to see, because I can't really concieve of them - even when I know they're right there. The person eventually phases out too, to just noise and shape in a void. I try to picture them again, picture something that will draw them to me again but it’s all...”

He waved a hand over the forest. Or maybe it was something else.

"And then I lose them. Or they break."

Sao couldn't bare to look long. His gaze lowered; he scraped his shoe over the loose earth.

“I miss what came before. The Joys and Judgment. As a kid I just wanted to get away from that shitty old house, the stink and the walls and the dead grass and dying old people and ugly unwanted kids left, right and center. Though, I should have been grateful. Everybody else knew to be. I was delusional from the beginning.” Sigma laughed again, fuller than Sao thought he’d have managed at this point. “Besides, the thing I was really running from - the fear, that book in the basement, the rope, the questions, the flashes, the hands in the sky, the claws in my skin - they never let go. Those parts stayed and the rest faded away. No more grass. No more home. All washed out like a dream. I go after them and end up with a handful of dust, or worse.” He screwed up his face. “A change of scenery. I wish it were possible. I want to see something new. Make a new dream. Find an ambience with something other than darkness or stars or sex. But I can’t do it. I could go up to the mountains or lay on the beach or drink myself half to death and I’d still see the same old stars, the same old hands crawling over them every night. I don’t want to sic them on anyone else anymore, but what can I do? What do I have to offer? There’s been nothing in my head but this one picture, ever since that night. It’s like being stuck in a nightmare.”

Sao took another step forward and found the toe of his foot in a pool of leaked gas. Somewhere very far away, Rai was yelling his head off. “A nightmare - I believe you snagged me in your trance a few times, and each time I woke up, I thought I had been dreaming. To be aware you’re stuck just short of waking - I can’t imagine how hard it is. But Sigma - the only thing I’m sure of is that you need help, and you’ll get it. But here - the forest, this cliff - it’s not the place.”

“I know where I am. I need to speak to...” Sigma eyed the sky behind him.

“Desmond isn’t... maybe you can consider him later, when things have calmed down. Even if he were here, I don’t think he would help.”

“Then you don’t understand.”

Sao sighed, passed a hand through his hair and tried not to look at the back door of the van, left open by Delta. His eyes having adjusted just slightly, he thought he saw movement. “I’m not a professional in magic or mental health, Sigma. You should see a-”

“No.” Sigma closed his eyes and drew back. “No, I already tried therapy. Counseling. Kiria told me to, remember? And I trusted her more than anyone. That doctor, Kaye… I shouldn’t be so critical. She did give me the start of a trail back to where Desmond left me.” Sigma looked out and for the first time, down, where the cliff dropped sharply behind him. “Are you telling me to stop following it? Stay where I am? Go back to Bell? To the pretty nothings who are always complaining that it’s too quiet, saying they need me when they don't? I’ve ruined everything just to get here...” 

In the shadow of the driver’s seat there was a noise like a sob.

“You’re right, Sao. I don’t want to be here. But there’s no way out now.”

“There are always other paths.”

“Like what?”

With a huff, Sigma crossed his legs and plopped onto the bare ground.

No, he was sitting already - in the car - wasn’t he? 

But he wasn’t. Sao fought the urge to shout, and once the urge passed, a chill overtook him. The smell of pine, sharper than ever before, swept down on them from somewhere beyond, and the square darkness in the back of the van coiled into itself then spread, like fabric unrolling, until it cloaked everything, above, below and all around. The walls of darkness became hollow. They were deep among the trees. Somewhere he couldn’t see, a fire was crackling. Campers?

“Sigma, bringing us back here isn’t going to help you get away.”

“I know. But I need some time. There isn't enough, out there.” On the ground, Sigma placed his head in his hands. “It’s too late for me, isn’t it? It really started to get me the first time I woke up from the therapist's sessions. How terrifying the passage of time can be. And the awareness that I'm not really awake. Not yet. Tell me: how long have I been under?”

“It’s better you get a professional to advise you. You’re right to question it at all, though.” As Sao spoke he wondered if the chief (and if his reflexes were anything like his driving, hopefully Rai) were mobilizing, somewhere out there. “Sometimes I wake up and it feels like time just flew by, like I’ll never get it back. An intense dream can make what comes after extra-tiring. But a bad dream can actually be more invigorating, in retrospect, once you leave it behind. As you said, when you remember what you were running away from...” His head jerked upward to see a thin black tendril rake its way over the star-filled sky. “Of course, I can’t always remember my dreams.”

“You’re talking about a little more than just sleep.” Sigma traced a wet circle in the dirt. 

“Well, yes. We’re both old enough to know that our dreams no longer mean hope or ambition or fantasy. They’re all too often a remodel of the past. The word itself is a mask. The way it floats off after waking is to protect us. Waking is about coping too. Life is coping.”

"You mean compromise.”

"Same meaning."

“No, it means you've lowered standards.” Sigma's eyes remained on the dirt. “Sorry, I didn't mean that. It just sounds so difficult.”

“It sounds that way, yes. But it's not so bad. Ask my boss, I am lazy as the day is long, but whether it involves lowering expectations or being blatantly disappointed, I haven't tired out yet. Things gets better, or at least interesting.”

Sigma’s head raised, and in the newly formed darkness, Sao saw his eyes were not only red, but bloated, his entire face damp. “If I were to wake up, will Kiria and Delta still be there?”

“Yes. They’re real people, of course they will.”

“And the Bells?”

“Their nature is a bit of mystery, but they’re real too. Although, they might be taken in for questioning.” Sao smiled.

“And the Joys, and the other children?”

“We spoke to one named Alf. You know, he still lives on Judgment Street?” Sao wondered if it was a misstep to mention that. One thing would lead to another.

“And Mr. D and his van and the upcoming trip? There's the room, and I left a book...”

Sao’s smile fell. “No. You don’t have to worry about him. Decide what to do about him after you've had a good talk with everyone else; people who aren't going to ask you to keep ugly secrets or to be better than you already are. Kiri cares about you no matter what, and Delta too. And I’ll be there.” He wondered about others, but was failing to come up with names. “You were given a bad start with Judgment. You were misled, abused and left behind in this dream. But with all that on your back you continued to live; you made Bell, you made friends and money, you made a lot of people happy. And you didn’t entrance anybody to earn that Best Actor award.”

“Best Supporting Actor.” Sigma combed his hair back from his face, suddenly looking very young. “You’re a better actor than I ever could be. Whatever I tossed up with the Bells fooled casting agents, but not cameras. Apparently I was most convincing as a catatonic background piece. That embarassment is waiting out there, too.” Sigma sat up and crossed his legs, like a student. “Did people support you, when you were finished with whatever had hold of you? I always got a feeling you and I were alike in… some deeper way. Your business, of course...”

“I suppose that’s why you’re here, still putting up with me?" 

“Never mind. Stay as long as you want. Where did you come from, anyway?” Sigma rubbed his eyes. “In sense of an origin. You’re not from Central.”

“Is this a comment on the skin... condition?”

“Condition? No. I can barely see you anymore. I was proud that I could, back at the dinner. You looked good, I could tell even through the starry fog. But I put my foot in my mouth, as usual...”

“Water under the bridge." Sao sat across from Sigma, facing him, catching for the moment the light from Sigma's eyes before the wayward gaze drifted through him and far beyond, once again. The soil was soft. "I wouldn’t know the exact place I was born. My parents left me out in the countryside and I was taken in by a privately owned preparatory school. I thought I didn’t have parents at all, but they came back for me. One fateful day.” He sighed, the cool air drying in his throat. “For relatability, well, I did see a camping trip go rather disastrously.” 

The smell of pines grew sickening. 

“It wasn’t a forest like this one. The trees were lighter - birches and oaks. It was spring or summer. My friend wouldn’t have had us embark on a journey in the fall or winter. She had too much sense.” Sao closed his eyes. “There was hot ash in the air, but the fire was small. No need for a big one.” A sharp, yet dense shape that he could not see began to trace a line over the skin of his neck. Sao swatted at it like a mosquito. “And I was wearing this terrible shirt, with scalloped cuffs and a ruffled collar...”

When his eyes opened he was met with Sigma, hunched forward with a boyish grin. “What, for camping?”

“I’m exaggerating a bit. I was dressed by old women, back at school. We were to be little gentlefolk. I remembered my wrists itched but we had packed bug spray - my friend was quite practical. So it had to have been the sleeves.”

“You really do pick on the smallest things.”

“I miss plenty, especially nowadays. But sometimes the tiniest scraps are all there are to hang onto. When it’s hard to recall the shape of your sleeves or a campfire as you left it, start with the people.”

“People are key, I recall.” Had Sigma shrunk? He looked small, knees up to his chin.

“For example, I know for sure this isn’t my nightmare, because you’re here.” Sao moved to scratch his neck, where the fingers, and the claws reaching down from the sky, were making their way under his skin. He smiled, raking skin right along with them. “And yes, hands all over. Branches, rope and knives. But it wasn't like this. They were creatures quite different from yours.” He braced his nails and scratched, tearing at his face, peeling off a swathe of very real (and somewhat expensive) concealing makeup. The scars itched, grazed by the false wind. The shadows drew back and he pulled a broad smile, feeling every crease in the raw skin of his cheek. “Those creatures ate flesh and burned the bodies. I don’t even remember how I got away. Trying to get under my skin? Sorry.” His mouth was icy. “Your Greys are a little late for that.”

Sigma’s next breath took all the oxygen out of the vicinity. The night was compressing, the walls closing in. Sao thought he saw the trees leaning in for a closer look, curving overhead. The stars zoomed close, like a million eyes, and wished he hadn’t been so dramatic with his unmasking. "Something worse than Desmond." Sigma began to laugh, a tight, frail noise. “I guess that’s why the Bells and I didn’t impress you. Or should I say, why you impressed the Bells.”

“It will always be to late to consider what’s better or worse when it comes to the harm we felt as children.” The pocket of air around them buzzed from mounting pressure. Sao wondered if they would be crushed. It was a sensation not unlike the chief’s voiding incantation. “The point is, as was the case for me, there’s a whole life waiting for you ahead, not behind. You can see Bells for real. You can go to the coast with Kiria and trade stories with Delta. There are parts of the city, all kinds of people, natural wonders to witness for the first time. It's all just waiting for you to wake up.”

Sigma gazed up at the sky, which was now just a few feet from his face. A kid in a tent, Sao thought, with a little handheld projector that showed a hazy imitation of the galaxy. And Sigma staring in wonder, even when he knew they weren’t the real thing, because to look anywhere else would be unbearable.

“The world’s a big place. There's just... so much of it,” Sigma said.

“I’m always relearning that, myself.”

“Then there was me, harping on the sheltered minds of others…”

Sigma’s face was framed almost exactly in the angle it took for the poster to Wings of Steel. He just needed a 20th century soldier's uniform. Sao wondered why his mind had called back such a useless image and wished Sigma would move to dislodge it. But he did not. His face was unmoving, not even for breath, but the edges of his image were shivering like an image cast by a projector that was jammed.

The forest, the fire, the conversation began to drift, dissipating into the ghostly fog. Sao was forgetting - again. The last thing he’d said, really said and didn’t just dream, was echoing in his ears, It’s too late for me, isn’t it? No, Sigma had said it. The dream was coming to an end. Time collapsed.

Then a burst of grainy white. Colors bleeding in like watery dye. Blue and green. The sky and the forest.

Kiria screamed and the dream crumbled apart for good. Rai darted by, so quickly that Sao felt the rush of air and almost lost his footing. “Rai, what happened--?” Words fizzled out as the creaking began.

The TPP van released a groan, a noise that should have come from a barge listing on the rocks, not one frail little car. Its wheels kicked back the crop of dirt it had been leaning on and began to slide - and the entire frame began to tilt. One tyre slipped off the tip of the cliff face.

“Let go,” Rai was shouting. A ring of police, soldiers, reporters, children, aliens (for all Sao could discern) emerging from their vehicles began to close in on the stage.

As if they were coming for him, Sao stumbled backward, retreating as far to the edge as he dared. He saw Rai was leaning toward the van’s open side door, half his body hanging in midair. His hands were alight, illuminating the inside of the van with a sickly blue, the whites of Kiria’s horrified eyes gleamed back. Her eyes were crossed, seemingly trying to rip themselves from her face in opposite directions. One pupil was placed firmly on Rai. The other was frantically circling on Sigma, who was curled up beside her, arm looped in hers, his face hidden, but his rambling mouth - and the string of familiar marbled stones held before them - were all too clear.

“Sigma,” Sao said, as blood began to trickle out his nose. “This isn’t the way-”

“Am I supposed to go back, knowing nothing’s changed? Am I supposed to want a second chance? I don’t deserve it and no - I can’t handle it. I can’t do it again. I don’t want more. I don’t want a hundred different paths, I don’t want to have to meet everyone again, learn everything over. I can’t do it.” Sigma coughed, his throat laced with phlegm. “I can’t go back. The Joys and Alf and... I can’t lie to them all again. I can’t kill him again. I'm going to lose everything, I can’t live like that, I can't start again. I can't start from nothing again.” 

“Sigma--”

“Shut up. I’m so tired. I’m already so goddamn tired, and knowing that I’ve just been dreaming all this time? If I wake up, I’ll die. I’m so tired already, how can I wake up and live?”

“I can't answer that kind of thing,” Rai grunted. “You know that, Sigma. Let her go!”

In a lapse of focus, Sigma did slide back, but Kiria remained in her stunned half-trance in the corner of the van. The mats, the upholstery, the soft sepia cushions, were all damp and smelled of petroleum. Another wheel dropped. The van’s beautiful, defenseless paneling gave a monstrous shudder and the underside began to cave, slowly folding itself over the cliff’s edge like wet cardboard.

Rai wasn't going to leap in there, was he? How were magic hands going to help him when he hit the ground at five hundred fiery meters a second? Sao looked back desperately at the incoming wave of humans, hoping any one of them was holding a miracle up in their hand, dashing ahead of the pack, but it wasn’t going to happen. No, it was too late.

There was only one hazy figure close enough to even hear him plea for help. Sao squinted, looked away. He didn’t have to see it to know. Its body, or whatever one might call the physical Bell, was still in the chief’s pocket. Sao couldn’t envision the chief handing over the Bell to a runner, or making the sprint himself. But he could envision Kiria - one hand on a ghost child, and one on a steel pipe - the night she had stopped him from walking out of his estate, out to Sigma. Or had it been Sigma, having her warn him away?

Or...

The splintering half of the van had fallen far enough for Sigma’s face to catch the sun. His skin glowed gold under the thick slash of light, glinting off the film of tears and sweat that coated his face. Red eyes were swollen, lips streaming with spit. His newly dyed hair shifted in the light as the van’s rear swayed; incandescent, shades of a fading summer. Sao wondered what Sigma saw when he looked at himself. Should have asked. Should have done a lot of things.

Sao tried to smile, feeling a nosebleed congealing on his upper lip. He wiped it and settled on his knees.

“Sigma,” Sao said. There wasn’t much point trying to shout. “Please. Be good. Let her go.”

Sigma froze mid sentence and Kiria’s eyes both flipped into focus. She clambered up the side of the van, kicking a pad of dirt onto the cushion beside Sigma, and took Rai’s hand, his shoulder, his head, his neck - as she was pulled free by the onslaught of helping hands.

“Get him too,” she said. Against Rai’s shouts to stay away, she struggled to face the van again. “Sigma, come on! We need to go!”

The commands came out tearful. But Sigma seemed to settle down with each word.

Kiria’s wails were ragged. “Nobody else has to die! Sigma, you can stop this now! You can--”

Several officers had arrived and were grabbing the TPP by its front bumper, rolling out hooks. At the first tug, the bumper snapped right off.

“A fucking million dollar van, unbelievable,” Rai growled, still one step from being taken off the cliff, or having his upper body ripped off by the van as it did so (assuming the flimsy thing was, at very least, stronger than a man’s torso.) He made a grab for Sigma, who only curled himself tighter into his corner. “Look over here. Sigma, grab on!”

“Sigma, take his hand!” Sao said.

Sigma did no such thing. Suggestion denied. He remained seated on the floor of the van, his chin against the Bells, head against a cushion by the stain of Kiria’s boot. As the tyres slipped fully off the dirt, Sao watched him fall away. Not like a dream, as much as Sao wished this were all just some awful imaginary conjuring. It was painfully real distance, inch by tangible inch. The van made a final tilt to its side and Sigma swung out of sight; he would now be facing the sky, watching it go. Sao followed the movement, hypnotized, until he could no more. The bronze container flipped over the edge and fell. Rai swore at every second of its descent.

There was a thundering crash that felt much too early. Sao’s muscles knotted with the realization. Of course, the van must have hit one of the steps of the jagged cliff. Screeching birds ascended from the forest below and the sky darkened, at first with the cover of wings, then with what looked like clouds, then with night. The crowd burst into nervous chatter.

Before Sao could try to explain, a column of flame erupted from below the cliff face, a blazing light that blew past the clifftop, shot through the clouds and took off for the heavens, or whatever lay beyond the vast star-studded night.

The shockwave it sent over the plateau made a few officers fall back. Sao’s eyes watered. The paint on his face curled in the heat.

Then the light was gone. He shivered in the newfound cold. Gone. Taken by the Greys.

In reality there was another shattering crash, then another, further down. Then another, metal screeching. And another. And a final, almost fluttering thump against the woods below.

The air smelled of gasoline and cooked meat. Retching, Sao fell back to see, against a panorama of stars, Rai rolling on the ground. He was spitting, shaking his arm as if it were swarmed with ants. The sleeve of his favorite field coat had been incinerated, the hole still fringed with glowing embers. And then there was the meat, the right arm charred a skinless black, withered like a dying branch -- though the blue aura, still holding out on his fingertips, was fighting hard to reclaim its rightful place. His face was smeared with ash, and his teeth were bared, no doubt in pain, but there was also a semblance of a smile. Sao thought he really might finally throw up when he felt a hand on his back. For whatever reason, his first suspicion was that it was Delta. He stumbled forward, squawking, waving off his assailant, twisting - to see nothing. 

He reached at his back. The imprint, or rather the sensation, remained. A small hand.

Rai had stopped sputtering and was being helped to his feet. The shriveled remains of his forearm seemed liable to chip off at any moment, fall apart in chunks of soot.

And someone else had finally made their way over to the crowd gathered at the cliff’s edge. Sao caught the beginning of a nonsensical yet familiar incantation: Five, ten, and two and eight, once again...