“What do you mean not with us? If he died we would have known,” I responded to Lani’s outrageous comment.

“His mind is gone.” Lani looked as if she was on the verge of tears. Silence filled the reflective walls of the room. We all knew what that meant. We had been prepared for this possibility, in fact it was one of the better ones. Lani still took it the worst. Though she had come to terms with losing him long ago, it still hurt.

Though sometimes she can be a pain, I hated to see her like this. No matter how much he said otherwise, the Warden was selfish when he made his decision. What would someone say to cheer her up… Oh!

“That doesn’t make sense though. Why would they kill him? It would just leave them trapped. As long as his body is alive they are locked away.” Lani’s back straightened ever so slightly at my announcement.

“Yeah!” Meagan came in with support, “It would make literally like no sense. Plus, that mimic is too smart for that. There is no way he would willingly destroy their one chance of escape.” Though I initially meant this all to cheer up Olania, it really doesn’t add up. The mimics would never allow someone to ruin their chance at escape. Their leader was far too crafty and manipulative for that possibility. It seemed Olania came to the same conclusion.

“Thank you, both of you. Not only did you give me back my hope, but you also showed me that there is something more sinister in the works. I have a lead on the mimic’s city. John was following a trail. It led to the Reform outskirt settlements before dying out. You were complaining about being stuck here right Justine? Good. I'm sending you to investigate.

“We are going to take an active approach. There may be smoke and mirrors, but it is all meaningless if we capture their city. Meagan, you’re going too,” Meagan stifled a groan in the background, “I’ll also send a few more stationed at our Start base for the mission. Use your discretion. The city is paramount, but if you feel there is a lead on this situation: take it. I pray we are taking needless precautions, but precautions exist for a reason. Get ready, you head out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Yes Matriarch!”

Had Yuclaus not earlier promised himself that at the first ray of dawn he would attempt to exit his dream, he would have continued toying with his mind for countless hours. Yet time, ever moving forward, brought the first rays of dawn over the crest of the world. The sun had started it’s endless march across the sky.

Cause had half a heart to extend his deadline for another day, but his willpower pushed down his eagerness. If this skill could be brought back to the real world, he could just test more either on the bus, or in his apartment. If he couldn’t return with it, then he would just be wasting time. There was no reason for him to stay any longer in this dream.

He could sightsee like he originally planned, but it no longer had the same appeal. If he were to get jumped by a —purely theoretical— earth monkey with two tails, the possibility of him losing something more than his naiveté was very real. People changed after getting jumped by an earth monkey.

As the sun started it’s ascent, Yuclaus noticed something interesting. It seemed rather than following the trail of planets, it was moving perpendicular to them. The heavenly bodies wouldn’t block the sun, except for at high noon. It would be a splendid time for a siesta were this reality.

High noon or not, Yuclaus was going to lay down right where he was, and try to sleep. There was a small problem with that though. As he rolled onto his side, a sharp, very crystal like object stabbed into him. He had completely forgotten his lost memories.

The next few minutes consisted of Yuclaus hobbling around like a crab picking up tiny little gems, and then crushing them by the handful. Without paying much attention to the memories he was retrieving, Yuclaus looked over the street to see if he missed any. It seemed his fears of kicking one into the endless mess of stone were misfounded.

He got a much better look at the small city now that he wasn't distracted by the procession in the expanse above. It seemed he had started, near perfectly in the center of the town. There was a large open plaza right next to our hero. He blinked a few times, flashing back and forth between the street and his mindscape. Had this been right next to him the whole time? Once there might have been stalls with imaginary people hawking their wares, maybe even a fancy fountain in the middle. Now, there was nothing occupying the area except perhaps the ghosts of the past.

A large pile of rubble attested to a building that once towered over the plaza. A residential complex? More likely it was an office of some sort. Yuclaus laughed at himself, here he was taking notes of a world that would soon be an afterthought. That was what he told himself.

Yuclaus saw no point in going back for his bag, it would find itself back to him on the bus. He also ignored the fact that each of the orbiting planets each had a different theme. He was fairly certain Water World was up there. No instead he laid down, closed his eyes, and found himself back in a barren wasteland.

Bedswervers and beardsplitters! Yuclaus swore in his mind, using both Shakespearean and Victorian language to satisfy his wrath. You could say his thoughts were quite scattered as of late. Get it? Because he literally slapped them out of himself? Nevermind. After the echo of his mental outburst spread over the cracked soil of his mind, Yuclaus tried to remember how he had gotten to his mindscape in the first place.

A feather of weight pouring inward. Following this ephemeral trail, I arrived in the land of shattered earth. He looked at the ever sparking orb above. A gateway of the mind. Memories come and go like the wind. Mayhaps I may join the flow. Yuclaus mentally flew upwards, forgetting to question when he learned to do that. Upon reaching the orb, he touched it. Immediately he lurched back into his body, like a baseball player spitting in a can, spawled next to a plaza square.

He blinked. The back of his eyelids greeted him. He thought back to the light mist entering his eyes, and found himself pulled back into the mindscape. He exited again. He blinked. His eyelids waved at him once more. He shrugged, and rolled over, pulling his cloak tight about himself.

Most definitely an orb of water hangs above this illusory world. Yuclaus quickly found his thoughts drifting. Without feeling tired, it was quite hard to reign in his rampant mind. It could also be because of the three-hundred milligrams of caffeine he just consumed, that his mind was restless. Quiet oh mind of mine! Yuclaus thought uselessly at himself. Were someone in his mindscape, they would be quite confused at the outburst as well. Not that anyone but Yuclaus could possibly be in there.

There was a singular technique Cause knew was foolproof. He closed his eyes, and thought to himself: intake of breath, outtake of breath, inhalation, exhalation. This tactic had never failed Yuclaus whenever he had slept in the past. However, unlike the past, there was a glaring inconsistency. HOW CAN I COUNT MY BREATHS IF I'M NOT BREATHING! Yuclaus once more destroyed his brand with casual speech. He thumped his forehead in annoyance at his slip up. Yuclaus, calm yourself, and sleep. He didn't notice the rather thick gem that had appeared with his action, calmly rolling away from him.

He then tried the “rotate my body so my head is where my feet were” sleeping jutsu. Don’t judge, try it sometimes, it might maybe work. Again his tried and true strategy failed. Yuclaus was about to try his third plan, the ancient sleep summoning ritual, when he was interrupted from his failed rest.

In the distance, getting increasingly louder, was the sound of footsteps. Rather than footsteps, it sounded more like galloping. The steps were softer though, not as hollow as the hooves. Yet with a still considerable weight behind them. There was also the occasional scratch and slipping sound. Almost as if this creature were scrambling away from the reaper himself. As if it was running from the IRS. When he realized the sound was almost upon him, Yuclaus felt like taking a few pages out of its book.

He scrambled to his feet. First page acquired. He ran for his life. Second page copied. Before he had travelled more than a few steps, he heard the sound of nails on a chalkboard. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an earthen monkey, two tails hanging overhead, sliding out from a street into the plaza. Something moved out of the corner of Yuclaus’ eye. He looked at the side-street the monkey had come from, seeing nothing.

At this point both the monkey and Yuclaus had stopped moving. Their eyes met. A palpable tension was felt. One of the adversaries stared death at its opponent, irritated at being chased here. The other glanced fearfully back, before staring death at it’s own hand, attempting to conjure a gun. Neither got their wish. The two legged figure did not fall dead. The dream deemed the second amendment right unconstitutional.

The stalemate continued. Muscles tensed, the two looked deeply into the other's eyes. Perhaps if they stared long enough, they would find compassion. Two panicked creatures connecting through common misfortune. Overcoming their differences, creating a friendship that would be told throughout the annals of history. A bond between man and primate that would be the model for future interactions with the creatures of the world. That was when the tumbleweed rolled between them. Yuclaus, knowing the universal symbol of a duel, turned aboutface. The monkey, startled to action by the movement of the tumbleweed dashed forward on four limbs.

Yuclaus started to run, but found his foot caught on an object. With a vague sense of familiarity at the object which felled him, Yuclaus had the foresight to condense the stream of his mind. Hitting the ground, his precaution was rewarded when no gems joined their tarnished stone brethren. Retaining as much focus on the stream as possible, Cause flipped onto his back. Yuclaus to his side, figuring his mind would want to help him out of the situation. No convenient metal pole was there to help him spear the monkey as it charged. Yuclaus felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up, seeing a figure silhouetted in the sky above. From an objective standpoint, the image of the two-tailed monkey under a series of foreign celestial bodies was a masterpiece that the photographers of the world would glow green with envy over.

What happened next brings to mind a smith forging an ingot into a sword. The smith pounds on the ingot, ensuring he uses equal force with each strike. He evenly distributes the swings, it would not do to have the ingot vary in thickness. The smith never pauses, as he would need to start the process anew should such a gap in time occur.

The smithing process is a long and arduous one; after a few minutes, the smith gets tired. This is normally the time when the ingot would once again be reheated, before the impurities were once again pounded out of it. However, our smith was an unorthodox one. He believed in the continual pounding of the ingot. A neverceasing clamor that could be heard over the town. In one sense the method worked, impurities were being expelled.

This was when Yuclaus discovered that he could, in fact, feel pain. Just as he was about to lose focus on the feeble protections of his mind, the foreman arrived. That is to say, a vine pierced through the monkey's brain, exploding it in a horrific visual cacophony of brain and blood. The foreman had decided that the sword was to her liking.

Standing behind the headless corpse of the monkey, stood a girl. Yuclaus, after holding his psyche together —from being mercilessly beat by a monkey— found himself unable to focus properly. It looked like a tree was standing there.

I would have known if a tree had been there before, Yuclaus thought to himself as he was lifted to a sitting position from behind. Trees don't grow that fast, foolish tree person. The aforementioned tree person rustled at him. Quite literally, her hair of leaves rubbed against one another as if an invisible breeze had swayed them. Yuclaus, slowly regaining his senses, stared dumbfounded at her.

She stared back. Yuclaus jerked his head side to side to ensure no tumbleweed was preparing to roll between them. She rustled once again, and a faint smell tickled his nose. I believe this is the first time I’ve smelt something in this dream. I hope a stroke is not in my immediate future. How sad would it be to die trapped in a dream after being mauled by a two-tailed monkey. After a few seconds, another rustle occurred.

“Are you trying to talk to me?” Yuclaus asked, still unaware of his difference in vocabulary.

*rustle*

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re saying.” Yuclaus humored the dream tree person. His mind refused to budge on the fact that this was a dream, even after he was forged anew. The girl rustled again, a different smell meeting Yuclaus’ nose. It seemed the two were separated by the boundaries of language. If only there was a convenient plot tool which would allow these two to talk to one another.

The nymph as Yuclaus mentally labeled her, took a step towards him, barefeet bringing her closer. He watched her, unmoving, until she kicked a palm sized sphere. The multifaceted gem rolled a short distance, landing perfectly between them. No signal was needed for this duel.

Yuclaus tried to move forward, but weakened as he was, hinstead collapsed onto his side. The nymph, not even noticing his struggle, stooped down to pick up the fragment. She looked at it. She looked at him. She looked at it. She looked at him. Another new smell greeted his nostrils. The tree girl paused, then squeezed the gem.