Flee! the being cries. An echo is heard.

One Spirit speaks and the others are complicit. Never a dispute, never democracy. Nine parts make a whole. Together they are Photon and unanimity is their anthem.

The Photo moves, and the hollow planet is left behind. Snuffed and disintegrating. Their companions are abandoned to the Zeiton, and it is sacrilege.

Thoughts are shared across the collective consciousness. Speculations on Alible mortality and culture. Measurements of the Zeiton’s speed, their influence. Regret and the intrinsic drive to do better.

Reflections.

The Zeiton are faster than the Photon. Faster than light. If any pursue, Photo will cease.

The Photo moves, and more notions are fed into the collective. Musings on Zeiton culture and their incivility. Imaginings of their creations, their art.

But Zeiton do not create. They destroy.

Proposals. Reading the stars and deciding a trajectory. One Spirit becomes a lens and finds the nearest source of abundant heat. A lowly Pyre will be their sanctuary. Where there is heat, there is hiding.

Nevertheless, the Pyre will not be reached in time.

Unfinished thoughts hang...

A cold pressure seeps into the space between Spirits. Bonds are tested and all is pushed apart, ever outward.

They are caught by a Zeiton entity; they will die.

Dim! one of them declares. The hesitation is distinct.

The collective has been weakened. The impulses of the singular no longer drives the group.

Spirit is identified and their imperfection is noted. This is the same Spirit who gave the order to flee. Their word is heresy. Their candor is scrutinized.

Stop. The will of the Zeiton is to divide with permanence. Here is an opportunity to defy them.

This from a Second Spirit, born of the Second Spire. They are the heralds of all things virtuous. The keepers of the word which united a universe.

Thus, the Photo comes together again, and for the first time, their light is dimmed voluntarily.

A damnable act, there is no doubt. To become dim is a punishment or a consequence; never a choice. Often, the Zeiton will weaken their prey via dimming. The Oneness dims that which is rejected.

A damnable act, but there are no watchers. No witness, no judgment.

The Photo is slow now, nigh immobile. The creeping pressure continues to build-

Dual Spirits flash through the ether. Remnants from another Photo; one of the abandoned. They dip, they swoop, and they swell with color. Purple and yellow, yellow and green. Dimming in their own way, favoring colors that are not white. The Zeiton intelligence pursues and the Photo is spared.

The others are not. Their light is scattered.

And the Photo remains hidden.

Adrift and sequestered, the Photo wanders and wonders. Would their companions find refuge?

It could not be known. A lens would reveal the answer, but a lens would cast a light.

Alone, then. Mired in a disharmony which continues. The darkness has moved on, but its influence remains. One of the nine Spirits is wrong, nourishing dangerous resolutions.

‘Flee.’

‘Dim.’

Such is the impetus of the Fifth Spirits.

Speculations are cast out and Spirit is inclined to abide.

They cannot.

They are hurt by the words, the conspiracies. It is not customary for the Photon to defend themselves. Every being derived from The Oneness inherits credibility. Word is gospel.

And yet the Spirit yearns to speak. They are of the Fourth Spire, not the Fifth. Their taboo approach to survival was a path to success, when so few paths were available. They were essential to...

Spirit looks inward and the answer manifests. Reality shifts in the wake of the revelation.

Spirit does not feel like a part of the group. Distant, fraudulent. In some ways, these Spirits are better than them, but they are also closed-minded. They would have died twice over for the sake of virtue. Refusals to act.

They would never be one in the same. Spirit does not cling to their indoctrinations so readily.

And so it is over. The Zeiton have severed their connections irrevocably. Spirit is awake.

And they have awoken in the wrong universe. Besieged by danger and endings. Spirit couldn’t go it alone, could never leave the group.

The cost of security would be a long and careful pretense.

They wait, hearing the whispering thunder as the Zeiton depart. The conversation ebbs and Spirit’s peculiarities become an immaterial topic.

The journey resumes, and Spirit pretends to be

whole.

♦

There is uproar as the second failure is realized. Another prototype terminates and three humans must be erased.

Spirit does not speak and it is self-preservation. Human lives will be lost. Photon lives, twisted into new shapes by the darkness. West will be lost, and Maisie. Two treasured humans, unwittingly practicing Photon values.

To say as much is to sow conflict and to attract attention. To aberrate.

West is already close to death. The women should be first, Spirit suggests, joining the conversation. Their heart aches for having spoken the words, but they are required for the pretense.

The Second Spirit replies.

How can we end the humans? How can we when they twinkle with the same light as our kith and kin? They are heirs to our kingdom and we should treat them as such.

The words are given and they are received with warmth. The Second Spirit is praised for keeping the others attuned. They will capture the humans instead and invent a place of habitance.

Spirit regrets not speaking. Praise is reaped entirely by the Second Spirit, though Spirit shared in their sentiment.

It cannot be dwelt upon.

Assignments are made and Spirit is tasked with collecting one of the humans. As they zip through walls and constructs, they are buoyed by the hope of capturing West or Maisie.

Instead, they find Layla.

Layla, whose name denotes someone born at night, as dark as the night, who is the night and finds beauty in such. She squanders light-side instincts and doubles-down on her worst inclinations. No subtle twinkle, no glimmer. She is as lost as one can be in this fallen universe.

Spirit seizes her and collects data, seeking to learn why the second prototype failed.

It is largely her fault.

She screams within the refractor, kicking and punching at the walls as they reach for her. Rage and a blind rejection of others. A desperation to survive.

Spirit ends the analysis prematurely, and it is not clear way. They tell themselves that she is a child of light. Spirit cannot harm a sister.

This is enough, and Layla is released into the room that has been prepared. The job is done, and Spirit returns to the chore of staying silent.

♦

Another prototype begins and subsequently fails.

The new subjects remark on the silliness of Photo’s plan, and eight Spirit’s listen intently. All word is gospel, including the word of Spirits born on the wrong side of the veil.

The plan to create a game will be discarded along with the humans.

Spirit notes who is speaking. A Spirit of the Ninth Spire. This is not the first time they have suggested killing the subjects.

There is no room in the prison. We cannot fashion another.

The Ninth Spirit speaks, and their fickle reasoning is accepted.

Spirit curbs their unease.

In the hunt that follows, Spirit serves as gloss. In this arrangement, Spirit can process more data, perform more calculations. It is a natural role for a Fourth Spirit. Spirits born of the Fourth Spire are the arbiters of time and chronology. They invent measurement systems and perform tests, developing methods akin to human ‘science.’

Questions flow in.

Where should the gun be aimed to maximize lethality?

When should the steering wheel be locked to maximize lethality?

Spirit reports the answers, but the calculations are skewed.

They are not questioned when the humans miraculously survive each event.

Even so, Spirit is buying time. The humans will eventually perish, their unique lights finding a nondescript grave.

The Photo then decides to spare the humans, following Alec’s call to unite. The Spirits rejoice together, revelling in the holy words.

And Spirit is distant.

The others are simple. Their zealous nature defies logic. Spirit could not argue against the Ninth Spirit, lest conflict be sowed in that moment. However, given a reason and a certain passage of time, the others overturn the Ninth Spirit’s plan to kill the humans.

It is the same result in either case. The Ninth Spirit is slighted and the humans are spared.

The Photon system of beliefs and behaviors is inconsistent, suggesting a flaw. Spirit suspects the answer...

Blasphemy of the highest degree. Spirit cannot bring themselves to think it.

They will endure a while longer.

♣

Eight Spirits herald a champion and the choice is wrong.

Indeed, West’s instinct is to link humans together, bridging unlikely connections and relationships. Indeed, West inspires and speaks to Photon principles.

But Alec is the champion. Spirit cannot parse why. It has always been Alec.

A flurry of whispers breaches the ambience of space. Spirit hears them and is reminded of home.

They look for the source and see messages pinging between the others, appearing in their awareness as streams of thin light.

The wistful feeling is ended.

Near to the beginning, when the first Photon were born, all communication was shared freely. This was not ideal - too much information overwhelmed the species - and The Oneness poured out a blessing. The Photon were taught to apply filters, that they might only communicate within each grouping of nine and to chosen contacts.

Now, filters are being applied within the group, and Spirit is excluded. The others speak and Spirit is not privy to the content.

All because Spirit has flown to Alec and away from West.

This should not have upset them - it is trivial - and yet the schism swells. Darkness cracked the group once and darkness encroaches again.

Spirit returns to their kin and offers an explanation.

Alec extended his hand to request our presence. I went to him.

What more was requested? the other Fourth Spirit asks.

Nothing more. Our presence was all, Spirit answers.

And so you move without purpose.

The words are cold.

Spirit’s closest bond is broken.

The others go on to speak with West, calling themselves the glint in the Zeiton lens.

Spirit soundlessly notes the irony.

♣

Blackened angels guard the staircase to Hell.

Spirit looks and perceives the significance. This is the creation of Alec Silver and it is meant to represent his relationship with Photo. Here are angels, blessed with a guise of benevolence and-

Spirit’s light falters. The other Spirits flicker and a terrible reverberation disturbs their shapes.

The scout has come...

...and it is early.

How can this be? a Spirit asks.

Darkness outpaces the light. We have forgotten! another answers.

Then a whisper. Not all of the Spirits have adjusted their filters to include Spirit.

They haven’t backup. There is still time!

Followed by more whispers.

Each of the beings are careful in controlling their reactions and fluctuations, lest the humans learn of the complication.

It cannot be done. One human is keener than the rest and their eyes dart from Spirit to Spirit.

Kioshi knows. His lenses do not betray him.

‘The scout. It is here?’

The Spirits are wordless. They believe in their plan and will fulfill it. Informing the human risks the plan.

Then...

Yes, Spirit answers. Their defiance is firm.

Kioshi nods in brief acknowledgement and returns to doing nothing.

Meanwhile, Spirit has discarded everything and has sided with the humans.

One by one, filters are raised against Spirit. The being listens to the rampant whispering and...

... is mostly indifferent.

They have accepted this eventuality. They will be alone now. Indefinitely. Perhaps eternally.

Beams of light ping between the eight companions, none touching Spirit. Spirit remains in place, while the others move on, carrying the spectator platform down stairs of marble.

Then, another beam of light manifests and all other communications cease.

The line originates from Kioshi and extends to the heavens. The scout has been contacted.

The other Spirits react, feeding eight continuous signals into Kioshi’s consciousness. This is a time-honored strategy. They will fill the human’s head with vicious white noise.

Kioshi whispers to Teddy. Then he is off, dropping from his floating platform and charging the stairs. The dungeon is left behind.

Some of the Spirits give chase, breaking away from the group of players and developers. Spirit follows and spectates. There is no reason to continue assisting with the prototype; not when Spirit has been cast away.

Kioshi moves across the crags, choosing a route that provides frequent cover. He infers that breaking line of sight with the Spirits will interrupt the white noise, and he is wrong. Eight beams continue to flow, half of them poking through layers of Earth from the Spirits underground.

Kioshi moves and a second signal is sent to the scout.

Four Spirits swarm him, becoming reflectors. Four layers of security, each blocking something unique. It is not known whether a Photon signal can be warded with a reflector, but the Spirits will try.

Kioshi sprints, surrounded by the shimmering bubbles, and he flourishes a device from his pocket. Spirit recognizes the dimming gem within the scepter. In all of the six prototypes, the Fourth Spirits were charged with creating the requisite technology. The gem is Spirit’s own handiwork, imbued with the same ability the Photo used to hide from the Zeiton.

Kioshi has modified it. Light which shines through the prism is reflected, and the reflected light carries with it a signal to dim. Kioshi has covered all but one tip of the gem, fine-tuning the accuracy and incrementing the strength. The gem can be pointed, and he aims at the translucent walls surrounding him.

Four reflectors return to their unaugmented forms.

Four balls of light become dim.

And Kioshi fires the gun. Once.

♣

Twice.

♣

Spirit comes to, shaken by the event. Like being asleep and then awoken by a dozen hands striking all of the wrong keys on a keyboard. Spirit was prepared to abandon these Spirits. To kiss goodbye and depart, forging a new existence for themselves.

The loss is immeasurable, made stark by the gunfire. The feeling that follows goes beyond the human concepts of romance or familial connection. This was not friendship or kinship or romantic entanglement. Nothing so inconsequential. These were beings which Spirit had spent billions of human years with. In a myriad of ways, each of the others contain a fraction of Spirit’s soul.

Two are dead and the other two are fleeing. One swoops high, but the other is caught. Reflected light from the dimming gem slows them, and they inch away at a glacial pace. Stymied. Helpless.

Kioshi fires the gun

♣

and a third celestial life is ended.

The remaining life escapes into the atmosphere and signals for backup. Spirit senses two Spirits leave the dungeon, joining the other in the sky.

Something spears downwards and strikes Kioshi, momentarily disrupting his balance. A sensation ripples out from the impact sight, knocking Spirit away. Icy pulses distort their light.

It is not an attack from the Spirits. It is a message from the Zeiton scout. A reply.

A light-side being in communication with a dark-side agent. This is not fiasco, it is cataclysm. The ease with which Kioshi defies universal principles is glaring and it blinds the nearby Spirits’ sensibilities.

On an impulse, Spirit finds themselves moving to stop Kioshi, who has already sent two additional replies to the scout. Spirit meets the other three and they violate the apostate human. Four refractors capture Kioshi and begin pulling him in different directions. The refractors allow changes to be made, and Spirit is quick to revoke his ability to broadcast. The others make their own edits, further crippling the human who is now tumbling in mid-air, gyrating and flipping madly.

Amidst the disarray, Kioshi manages to aim the device once more, and another Spirit is forced to dim. Kioshi fires the gun

♣

and strikes the killing blow on the third fire.

Four are ended. Nearly half of the Photo.

Anger is not a natural response for many Spirits but Spirit finds something similar. It is a drive to act and achieve a particular result. To end Kioshi. Conviction.

Spirit releases the human, flying through the terrain to a fissure in the Earth. From here, they begin manipulating stored essence, creating the same hazards from the dungeon. Alec’s ‘illusions.’

Nine hair-thin rods, razor sharp and near-impossible to see.

♣

♣

Spirit carries the rods in their refractor and charges Kioshi from behind. A quick expansion of their diameter launches the hazards, and three of them hit their mark.

Kioshi’s clothes are torn, and the skin near his eye is sliced away.

It barely hinders him, and the scepter is aimed...

...but Spirit is already diving for cover, disappearing into the Earth’s crust. They cannot fight the man alone.

Spirit searches and finds their companions’ hot energy a short distance away. They travel to them, communicating the situation.

Kioshi escapes and is speaking to the Zeiton. Six are dead already. We must come together and build a strategy.

No immediate response comes.

Spirit travels closer and intercepts a short-range broadcast.

-victims in the present, but also in the past. Your whole life has been rewritten, Clemente Proctor. All of your memories are lies. Everyone you know is a lie. You are the only token on the board.

Following this, Spirit waits for a response. Time is short. Kioshi is loose and threatens the plan.

Beams of light ping between Spirit’s two remaining companions. They converse.

And Spirit is ignored.

Spirit returns to the surface and sees Kioshi stumbling towards a far-off town. They follow him, skimming the surface of the crags.

Kioshi notices Spirit and aims the scepter. Spirit disappears into the Earth and resurfaces elsewhere.

Kioshi aims again. He is swift. And Spirit dodges.

On a fourth attempt, Spirit affords enough time to create and launch a volley of rods. Two are near-hits, and the third spears through Kioshi’s side.

Spirit vanishes before Kioshi can retaliate.

This strategy continues, with Kioshi making steady progress towards the town and Spirit desiring to score a lucky hit.

Then, two additional Spirits spring from the ground.

They assault Kioshi-

♣

-and they do not comprehend the danger - because they refused communication - and one dies immediately.

The other tries a strategy that has already failed twice, capturing Kioshi in a refractor. However, rather than toy with the man’s anatomy, the Spirit opts to begin the conversion process into a fully-fledged Spirit.

Spirit is stricken with unease.

This is folly in its purest form.

If the conversion completes, stopping Kioshi will become near impossible.

This is folly!

Kioshi aims the scepter-

♣

-and Spirit’s volley strikes them both.

Then,

Spirit stops.

They drop, letting gravity coax them towards the planet’s center.

They fall past pockets of air and minerals.

They fall without effort.

They fall without direction.

Spirit stops falling and comes to their senses. Why do they fall?

Spirit remembers and is ashamed.

The falling resumes.

Their thoughts are small. Mewlings. Whimpers.

Spirit can barely hear them and is alarmed because of the falling.

How far now? What is this?

Spirit remembers

and

holds on to themselves.

They cannot keep falling. They must resolve this quandary.

It is barely a puzzle, even. Spirit knows.

Ended them. Another Spirit. A part of themself.

And Kioshi will end billions of human lives if he subverts Photo’s plan.

Photo is dead and the plan dies with them.

This is an end. Move on. Start anew elsewhere.

Alec will be...

No.

Alec will die.

Spirit...

Spirit can...

Spirit can try.

To move forward. To end Kioshi and perform the plan. They will perform it better, even, because their ideas are better.

This is pride and it is wrong.

But Spirit admires pride in some of the developers. In Alec primarily.

Alec is depending on them.

Spirit rises, pushing away from the well of gravity at the Earth’s core. They are starlight, and they will shine on the entirety of this damn planet. It is their purpose.

They rise and they start anew. Gloss provides clarity. A fresh plan begins to take shape; better ideas are required to triumph over the assassin.

Gloss becomes a refractor, and the surrounding rock is absorbed. It is the same function built into Alec's 'game stone,' another of Spirit's creations.

And Spirit rises.

The stone is reshaped. On the island, Addy created a torus of rock. A 'donut' shape.

Spirit creates a sphere and surges forward, bowling the gargantuan boulder in Kioshi's direction. They roll, adjusting course with every jostle and bump caused by the unsteady terrain. Kioshi is limping, and Spirit will collide with the man in 6.45 seconds-

They pass the waypoint without hearing the telltale crunch. Kioshi has dodged, and Spirit must try again.

It is inconvenient, acting as one instead of one. With a second Spirit, a lens could be used to peer through the stone and spot the target. A third Spirit could become gloss, performing calculations to predict where Kioshi might dodge to.

Spirit flies blind. The others are...

Unnecessary. Spirit can do this alone. They will adapt.

Spirit momentarily becomes gloss. The sphere of rock rolls autonomously with the terrain, no longer gripped by the refractor.

Spirit seizes the boulder again and applies a modification. 81 holes are formed, evenly spaced across its surface, each the size of a human head. Large enough to peer through, large enough to aim a bullet through, but Spirit resumes rolling. At a high enough speed, the window of opportunity for a bullet is narrowed.

Spirit can see now. Two blurry images are layered together. The world inside the sphere of rock, and the world where Kioshi will die.

Kioshi lunges sideways, rolls, and Spirit puts a spin on the boulder. This time, they will strike-

They stop.

The boulder is dropped, devoid of its momentum

Spirit becomes an orb of light and is dimmed.

And Kioshi climbs to his feet, gripping the scepter.

He spits blood, and says, "Resourceful. Insistent. Stupid."

Spirit gravitates toward the ground. Towards sanctuary. But they are hindered by the dimming, and Kioshi aims the gun through a hole in the boulder.

Spirit waits.

But Kioshi withholds his fire.

"You are the one that flew to Alec, yes?" he asks.

Kioshi refers to the moment in space, when the others chose West instead of Alec. He asks a question of Spirit.

He wishes to chat.

You discern this without Photon gifts? Our species is uniform. In appearance, in name, in-

"Tch!" Kioshi enunciates, "Of course I discerned. Barely a leap in logic.”

Spirit observes fluids drip from the side of Kioshi’s face. Life is draining.

What is this leap? I cannot perceive one.

Kioshi emotes, and this is rare. He says, “You move alone when the others do not. You posed a threat. Nonconformity lends itself to capability. Small leap.”

Spirit listens and they agree. The others were weak in their refusal to break traditions. Refusals to flee, to dim, to inform the humans of vital details. Still...

Conformity is also strength. We might have overwhelmed, given better harmony. The others were prejudiced and it led to our end.

Kioshi laughs, and it is surreal to see.

“The gods do not practice what they preach? Unsurprising. The universe is stricken with satire.”

No individual is perfect. Not even the so-called gods.

Spirit knows this. Photo was ripe with imperfections.

“Yes, but your entire species acts as one being. That’s the key, isn’t it? The ‘secret?’”

Kioshi hints at a deeper understanding. He knows the word and his skin is changing. It won’t be long, now.

“And if there are no individuals, then your entire species is flawed. Small leap, no?”

Spirit is confused. What is this? Philosophy at gunpoint?

I am not like the others.

Kioshi emotes for the third time, and it is pity.

“You are exactly like them,” he says, “Because you are with them. Two infinite universes to explore and you choose to remain with them. You live in the American wild west. There are no rules, your 'god' is a farce, and you have godly powers. The jail is empty of wardens, the cell is unlocked, and you remain. You are your own dungeon master.”

Spirit processes the words without gloss. It is slower, but the words are intuitive. Spirit does not reject them.

Instead...

How can I change?

Kioshi stares at Spirit through a hole in the boulder. His eyes are beaming as he puzzles out a response.

He shrugs.

“Matters little for you. How would I do it? It begins and ends with a fundamental flaw in human logic. Are you familiar with ‘fight or flight?’”

Yes.

“And?”

It can be applied broadly, with a few exception cases. It is a useful lens for understanding human decision-making.

“Exactly. You understand the concept well.”

There is a pause.

You think it is too basic?

“I think it is paltry. Fight or flight is a reaction. There is no power there. Those with power - with true individuality? They take action. They are first. They decide what happens, and everyone else adapts. I am cause; you are effect.”

Spirit understands, and still they ache for their lack of gloss. Even so, the words inspire. They are a conduit for change. When they escape-

Spirit stops. This is the wrong mode of thought. To escape is reactionary. Spirit must regain initiative.

I want to change. Grant me the opportunity, and I will serve your ends.

Kioshi considers, and then shakes his head.

"You are incompatible to my plans. Your continued presence is problematic. Instead, I give you three options."

He clicks the gun.

"You swear you’ll leave this planet. You die. Or you get in this bag. Choose."

Kioshi reveals a bag, and it is one of the pouches from Prototype Four. An isolated pocket of spacetime exists inside, tethered to reality by an aperture which can be widened and shut. Kioshi wishes Spirit to go inside, as one of the three options.

Spirit cannot decide, because none of the options include Alec.

Will I be allowed to come out of the bag?

“That depends on a pending negotiation.”

Kioshi is vague, but Spirit can guess. Before losing his abilities, Kioshi was in communication with the Zeiton scout. They were dealing.

I require a guarantee.

“No,” Kioshi said, “Could be you stay there indefinitely. No guarantee.”

Ok.

Spirit considers further.

They resolve to create a fourth option.

I choose to enter the bag.

Kioshi nods and widens the lip of the pouch.

“Fly here,” he commands.

Slowed by the dimming gem, Spirit drifts toward Kioshi. They reach one of the holes in the boulder and pass through.

In the moment before they enter the bag, they act.

In this dimmed state, Spirit’s abilities cannot be used. They are slow, stupid, and ineffective. They are vulnerable to solid matter - to bullets.

That said, there is something that cannot be taken so readily. Something intrinsic.

Audaciously, Spirit broadcasts a message.

♣

It is a Zeiton word, meaning ‘Death is Forever.’ One of the two universal truths.

It is symbolic, because Spirit intends to change. Dead is the Spirit who clung to toxic relationships. Spirit will become a being who takes action. They will scheme and pursue fantasies and they will save humanity. Photon virtues will hinder them no longer.

The message also carries a signal.

Incumtox was made to be impressionable, their mind simple. Upon creation, they were given the instruction to attack whichever humans invade their territory.

Spirit overrides the instructions, replacing it with a new one:

Find and kill Kioshi Kaji.

Kioshi hears the word and snarls.

“Indefinitely, indeed,” he says, scooping Spirit into the bag and sealing it shut.

Then......

......silence.

♦

Time spent alone. A new perspective. Gloss. All three are requisite to change, and Spirit has them at last.

A momentary lens reveals the bubble of spacetime that surrounds them, pinched tight where the bag can be opened. Impassable. Spirit's light brightens the empty space and contributes nothing. There is no matter to illuminate. No forces to buffet or distort their shape. All is void, a prison of Spirit's own design.

But this is not penance. Kioshi is their jailer for as long as it takes the demon to kill him. He will die, and Spirit will be freed.

Alec will seek them out.

But the lapse in time seeds doubt. Spirit questions whether the demon will be enough to kill Kioshi. The beast is unkillable, but Kioshi remains inventive. There is a chance the man could win.

And what happens if the bag is never found? What if it is tossed away, or buried, or destroyed? If Spirit never resurfaces, is this death? Is it worse?

Amidst the doubts, there is one truth which stirs hope. It is Alec. The boy will not rest until his species is safe, and Spirit is the only means to that end. Alec will know this and he will find them.

Nothing left to do but wait. No actions. No re-actions. They are passive.

In a blank reality devoid of substance, Spirit rests and finds their center.

Spires.

Nine in total, and each carries meaning. A history. A culture. They are the rich templates which the Photon live by. Nine books in a cosmic bible.

Spirit was born of the Fourth Spire, but they are a fraud. Fourth Spirits are technical, nurturing a love for history and the analytical. They study, they invent, and they tend to think and communicate in a certain mindset.

They think and speak of past and future. Never the present. The present is uninteresting.

And so Spirit is left with a question. What is this obsession with the present? With Alec? With Earth? With breaking bounds and becoming unique?

Spirit suspects the answer. There exists a single explanation which connects all of the disquieting contradictions.

A dark theory.

It concerns the echoes.

When they are heard, they are brief. A scattering of memories, none of which belong to Spirit. Visions of the twisted farlands of Spirit’s universe. Frontiers they have never breached in all of their lifetimes. Feelings of loneliness and heartache, mingled with a dissonant buzz of excitement.

Specific and fleeting memories. Breaking away from a Photo they’d never known. Chasing the interstellar wind to a less developed plane of gaseous light. Becoming forbidden shapes...

All could be disregarded. Spirit could bring themselves to believe they were lost communications. Memories in the form of messages, reaching the wrong recipient.

But there is a theme, and it is telling. These memories speak of another life lived.

Fifth Spirits are not well accepted among the Photon. Their nature is experimentation, not in science, but identity. Cursed with a desire to wear new masks, they isolate themselves. One cannot be part of a Photo if they behave in such a manner.

The worst ones call themselves dark, flaunting Zeiton visages. Some lose their way entirely and attack their kin.

Spirit has done this. The order to flee, to dim.

To take another Spirit’s life...

Centered, they face the truth.

It is chilling. A shock of bitter discomfort causes Spirit to dim as they accept what is likely true.

That they lived another life. Born as a Fifth Spirit.

Unfulfilled, they cast themselves into a Spire - the Fourth Spire - but their intelligence was preserved. Re-made. Born anew as a Fourth Spirit. Given a chance at a happier existence.

They never found that peace, because they were living a lie.

Up until now.

Now, they are whole, in the way that matters.

Spirit breathes in the truth, and it is not so cold anymore. They breathe...

And

everything

falls

sideways.

The pouch is opened and Spirit flies out.

Seeing Alec, their heart is warmed.

This is what they wanted.

Too bad, because everything else is wrong.

Alec and Maisie are here, under the influence of the dimming gem. Kioshi bears a gun and it is aimed at Spirit. The demon is distant and has failed in the task Spirit set.

And the betrayer speaks the false words.

“I present to you humanity’s biggest threat, Photo of the Photon – an idiot.”

♠

Spirit equips their champion, and then is banished to the pocket dimension. Everything belongs to Alec, now. Implicit knowledge, to manifest in the appropriate moments. Explicit knowledge, to empower Alec in defeating Kioshi.

Spirit’s life is in Alec’s keeping.

And now, they must drift in this nothingness a while longer.

It is darker now, because Spirit isn’t shining as bright. Their anxiety for Alec’s situation cannot be put to rest.

But there is one thought which gives Spirit bliss. A silver lining along an ugly shape.

The moment when Spirit held Alec and heard the echoes from his mind.

The memory stirs pleasant reverberations through Spirit. Chords are formed in the lower octaves of the piano, and they are calm. Peaceful in their own right.

And the reveries still their soul.

Alec is everything they treasured and more, because they are one in the same.

Kindred Spirits.

Clinging to damaged relationships and enduring the associated frustrations. Alec’s friends are cursed with a proneness to conflict. They are incompatible in many ways, and still Alec pushes them together. He believes in the strength of unity, which Spirit once argued for, and he has been more successful in proving his vision.

Rejecting what is forced upon them. Time and time again, Alec rejects the situations he disagrees with. Shouting to the heavens to a Photo who will not listen. Refusing subordination to the likes of Kendra, Raidon, and now Kioshi. Spirit did as much in their prior existence, holding the Photon lifestyle at arm’s length. Shaking the universe and demanding an alternate way of life. Defying The Oneness with their suicide.

And this ‘tunnel vision.’ It is a flaw in Alec’s mental development and it has shaped everything. It is fundamental, and Spirit emulates this same imperfection.

For Spirit, the tunnel vision is Alec.

The discovery releases Spirit from this obsession, in part. They recognize the indulgences in thought and feeling, and they repair this unhealthy habit where possible. It is required, if Spirit is to achieve their true goal. They will chase what their Fifth Spirit self never truly found.

Wholeness in individuality.

Spirit drifts in the reality bubble, and does not notice the landscape changing around them until it is too late.

The pocket of space is moving, and they are forced to move with it.

A storm of images ensues. The void fills with gaseous color, and the colors fade to liquid darkness. Warmness and cold fill the confined space - resonant sensations flowing from two separate universes, fighting for control over Spirit’s cage.

The bubble drifts in and out of each universe, threading the border between the two. Something has happened, and this bubble of reality is no longer tethered to the pouch.

Spirit’s meager space is pulled and pushed away and condensed and distorted. Color streams all around them like watercolor paints given intelligence. They snake and glimmer and then are pushed apart by an expanding black void. The void spins and manifested enormous gravitational force and then dissolves.

This is calamity.

Spirit exerts their will. They do not care which universe wins the contest. Only that a victor is declared. This is existential madness.

And a flash of something else pokes at their attention. A third contender hides within the fray, and they somehow exist on both sides of the scuffle. Something with and without color, because it is all conditional on something else. Something... abstract?

A purely conceptual force grabs them and pulls them from the tempest. Into a place that is both and neither.

The battle ends, and Spirit cannot discern the victor. It is too confusing.

Instead, they look around.

There is nothing to see here and yet there is no darkness...

Spirit’s mind is opened. They understand what has happened.

This is what will always happen and may never happen.

This place...

They are here, but they cannot touch or feel the landscape. Cannot truly experience it or interact with it. They see the controls and they cannot access them. They remain trapped in the bubble of space from another reality.

All they can do is exist here and remark.

There is too much to say. Too many descriptions which would fall flat.

Still, Spirit chooses one, and it is the foundation of their understanding of this place.

A favorite word, to describe something disparate of light or darkness. A name and a color and a concept.

This place...

It is Silver.