29,980, 3/21
I wake up and begin praying in the street. It's rush hour, or would be if hovercars hadn't been invented. I take the newspaper off of my body using it as a blanket, the oil container I use for a pillow had been stolen by a rapper the night before.
I'm praying not because it's something you have to do first thing in the morning, I wake up and pray because A'roll just told me about this graduation event at the Federation College, 17.4 km from this exact street.
We are loitering outside of the convenience store, where you can pump your hovercar with Non-baryonic fuel here. "Intergalactic Janets, such a silly term," I say, drinking from a glass bottle.
"That's alcoholic." A'roll snickers.
"Deadass?" I say, I would never talk to any of my peers that way. But I'm banned from the temple, banned from all things Aheia, I'm Aheian because of this stupid Star burned into my forehead. Not because of my religion, at the time I followed it because I had nothing better to do, and it gave me excuses not to do activities with A'roll.
A human with white hair and purple eyes walks to the convenience store. The human has a man bun pulled back as far to the back of his head as it allows him to go; his pants are tighter than a blood clot, in contrast, his boxy jacket is larger than his torso. Completely covering his upper half, it is cropped, though he wears black boots with spikes on the toe and heels, boosting his height by 3 1/2 inches.
"I didn't know humans could look like you." A'roll snickers again; he's having the time of his life right now. His eyes are blue, and low as the sun at sunset, his breath smells like coffee and almonds, he's not sober. It's dawn.
The human opens his mouth, and a piercing is next to a flesh-colored tattoo on his tongue. Under his eyelid is a microprocessor that glows bright green.
"Are you a droid?" I ask to stop A'roll from saying something he would regret.
"Nah, I'm Tededes, we call ourselves Anthros." He kicks a soda can that's a hologram around; if it were a different story, he'd be the main character.
He takes down his hairpin, hair flowing down to his shoulders, white and wavy; there are stripes in it like a raccoon's tail. He places a cotton-candy lollipop in his mouth.
"My sister is graduating from Fed Academy, I'm tryna' stay here and work. Y'all know how to make cash quick?" He says, taking the lollipop out and polishing it. It's not a lollipop, it's a jewelry item that glistens like a star.
"Ehh… You can uh," A'roll pauses to think, smoke pours out of his ears, you can hear a gear click right as he sobers up, and the previously unfunctional welcome sign glows when he sobers up.
"First, what you're going to do is you're going to go to a police academy, take drone parts. Once you do that, you gotta buy an assembly manual, you make 5 drones, and you make 500 galactic credits, enough to buy yourself a fryer."
"What's a fryer?" He asks, taking out a notepad.
"It's a type of energy projectile weapon, you buy yourself that you collect minor bounties until you gain a reputation, then you become a niche microcelebrity on the internet."
"Alright, so no employment at like an actual job?" The Tededes asks.
"Depends if you've been to college or not, if you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"I'm Clairo Niche Larp Yves-Lggdrasi Bopa, everyone just calls me Opa."
I take a step back for a moment.
"Why is your name so long?" I ask.
Opa smiles.
"Compared to my sibling, my younger sister, who's graduating, it's short. Her name is Boelin Rolai Solace Qukthar Nopo Opa Yves-Lggdrasi IV; everyone just calls her Bo' anyway."
A'roll nods.
"Co'ol and I are going to this college party, real close to where she's graduating. Wanna go?"
"I got nothin' better to do." Opa states before getting in A'roll's car.
A'roll hands him the Civlink Music player for the hovercar, asking him to play music. Opa grabs the music player, investigating it, and he types in someone's name. The music sounds like someone's putting a robot through torture, and someone's scratching a chalkboard.
The lyrics are vulgar and nonsensical.
A'roll and I both hate it.
"Shut this bullshit off, dude." A'roll snatches his phone back and places it on the dashboard. He clicks off and plays his playlist of Industrial techno music; every song is 180 decibels and 180 bpm.
The hovercar can be heard from across the planet. Officers try pulling us over, but can't, their headlights are cracked by the subwoofer's sound.
Opa reaches into his pocket and hands A'roll and me two miniature pills.
"Let's have an experience we'll remember." He stays, gulping his pill with a swing of water inside his hydroflask, the ice clanks to the bottom, then sloshes around, he forgets to place the cap on it, and the water spills all over the backseat. Remember this.
A'roll takes his pill, reaching for a sports drink in the cup holder. As for me, I don't take any water with the pill.
It tastes like rubbing your hand onto a hardcover book; it spells out the words 'KABBALAH' and 'ANEMIR.'
The first thing I notice from taking the pill is that the effects are nearly instantaneous. My hands become like noodles, flailing in the wind like an inflatable tube man. A'roll rolls the windows down, and my turban blows in the wind as well.
I feel an intense stinging in the back of my neck.
The drive to the party is psychedelic, a sense of euphoria.
Every time I close my eyes, a white plain appears, the sky white, no discernible traits.
A figure in a black mask with the same mark present on my forehead on the back of its cape has its back turned towards me.
A'roll snaps his fingers, from my perspective sounding like someone slamming a drum kit as hard as they can onto the ground.
I step out of the vehicle, my head feels like an anvil balancing on a squirrel's spinal cord, tipping completely to the right. I take out a syreline syringe and inject it into my thigh.
Cancelling out the effects of the pill for a while, except for when I blink. The figure grows closer and closer.
My blinks longer, and longer. Before I eventually fall out, nodding and leaning over in a corner by the port-a-potty.
I wake up, or so I believe, and see a tree, not an actual tree. But that is the closest thing it looks like to me.
Each of the tree's branches is a potential life I could've had, one where I die young, and one where I live my full life, all prosperous and fulfilling. Except the branch that's branded blue.
In a world that's all white, something being branded blue stands out like popcorn in your teeth. I climb the tree and grasp the branch.
The figure I repeatedly had seen over and over climbs it, no, scales the entire tree; he spreads his arms, and thousands of black pods shoot out.
That branch becomes infected and falls off, and I fall to the ground, bashing my head on one of the roots.
The figure grasps me by my collar. His eyes were glowing an ominous burgundy, his head in the shape of a hawk. I believe it to be a helmet.
"To truly live, one must die." It states, voice similar to that of one of the temple elders. Shifting the entire climate to my early childhood.
I feel my body in the outside world slump over, then a strong pulling force upwards. Waking up, a crowd of Federation graduates surrounds me.
"Arise, my son! Arise!"
The sound of the surfing birds by the trashmen hits my eardrums; I'm being crowd surfed. I look around for a minute and spot the only other Jenti there. A'roll is talking to a slightly older woman, but she seems uninterested. The lead singer of the band performing the song (completely unlicensed, without permission) is an earthling with piercings in every fragment of his body, a leather jacket, and a massive X tattoo on his forehead.
The Jenti on stage is a woman; she wears one of the Purple Hearts varsity jackets. Never seen her in my life, she's not wearing a turban and bears the mark of Aheia on her forehead, along with an Afro made of Lautun (Aheian word for Potenes's hair), she wears a spikey glittery belt.
Opa's on stage, swanton bombing onto a crowd of 30,000 people. Several people chant the name bands 'Divine Intervention.'
The whole band's gimmick is corny; it uses spiritual imagery just to look cool. They're flashing images of several deities on the projector of the stadium, ones I've never seen.
A picture of a black cube and finally a Hawk with a cape appears.
A'roll is grabbed by the wrist by a Potenes woman who looks like someone we went to high school with. They retreat to the parking lot not to be seen for the rest of the function.
I stand in the middle of the crowd surf, my boots– now designer press hard against the gloves of a Federation soldier.
I slowly begin floating, my jacket falling off my right shoulder and onto the crowd.
What the hell is happening to me? I pause to think, and just like that, I fall. Forming a crater in the ground, several Federation cadets/graduates shoot their honorary rayguns in the air.
Opa passes through the crowd of a couple of thousand like an explorer cutting leaves down a tree.
"I put you in the standard dress code of civilians at this event. A'roll's wearing a quarter zip with a singular purple stripe to signify he's with the 'Purple Hearts.'" He scratches his chin hairs.
"You gave your Purple Hearts jacket to that Aheian girl on stage," Opa says while he pats the top of his head.
A face that looks just like his pounces on his back before putting him in a chokehold.
"Who's this, Opa?" She asks. She's wearing Federation graduate gown attire, buttoned down to the tippy top, hair in a neat bun, eyes lighter purple, lavender even with a patch of freckles on one side of her face.
A large oval-shaped blemish on her right cheek, going onto her nose, and several scratches on her upper lip. Her shoulder is a single shoulder pad that signifies the rank she got while in school. She could've become a Non-combatant rocketeer, apparently.
"My name's Boelin, you can call me Bo." She says, sticking her hand out for a handshake.
I shake her hand, placing my thumb on her fourth finger, then squeezes twice, and she does the same. Usually, I'd think nothing of it, but this is the first time someone's done it elsewhere outside of my specific temple, besides the Hyperelites that rule the Federation, I mean.
"I didn't know there'd be other Aheians here!" She exclaims.
Her friend has a Purple Heart jacket covering her uniform.
"Where did you get those jackets from? I designed them!" I say, pointing to her jacket.
"The thrift store."
Right as she says that, a massive 40-foot hologram of a horse appears, and a well-fed high-ranking general rides the hologram of the horse.
"What the fuck is that?!" I exclaim, I pat for a second, it's almost spectacularly bald except for Lautun on the top of my head, outlining what would be my hairline.
All Jenti men have this hairstyle. It's coded into our DNA for some reason; our Lautun can't grow any higher.
"Where's my turban?" I look at Opa, who's using it as a wristband. He places it in my hand, and I tie it around my head.
"What's that tattoo on your forehead?" The woman in the bomber jacket asks; she also has a jewelry lollipop, all 3 of them do. And I feel like an odd one out.
"Tattoo? No, it's like a branding. I got it at birth."
"Ah… My name's Ozanagi Luheral RoséGold, capital G. Yes, the richest family in the history of civilization. We have 50 distinct bloodlines, and I'm from the poorest one." She blabbers, the jewelry lollipop falls out of her mouth and into her pocket. She takes out a navy blue cap and places it on the top of my head, tilting it to the side.
"Why'd you do that for?" I ask.
The figure blips behind her. She turns around.
"What are you looking at?"
A fight's happening behind her, a dragon dude is fighting a goblin. To the death, in a moshpit.
The figure blips over and over, staying and standing in front of me.
It grasps my face and pulls me towards its cloak, accidentally clotheslining me instead. The Hawk's figure is slim and tall.
Opa raises his hands and attempts to punch the bird, but the bird flicks him into a crowd. He spins uncontrollably and knocks over drinks at a bar table.
Bo stands in shock, dropping her lollipop on the ground. The figure places me in a full nelson, not managing to let me escape; eventually, it drags me through a portal.
A white tundra, or so it appears. Every step lets out a shrieking yell. There are red glowing spots on the ground. I look downwards, and they're featureless, hairless blobs of faces. The sky is black. Charcoal black. The figure arch spawns it. His cape flutters in the wind, a burgundy interior.
I ask one question.
"Who are you?"
A low, ominous voice, followed by someone coughing.
"I'm sorry, I needed to clear my throat, I am !@#%&. You know me as Anemir." The vo
"You're a Djil! A devil! A demon!" I step back and remember what the temple told us to do.
Anemir raises his right hand.
"Aheia isn't real. Not as you know her."
I step on a face; the face this time has features. That of a temple elder.
"Brother Tubular? Why is he there!" I exclaim and point downwards.
"Let me onolougem." He raises his hand, beaming a sphere. I'm pulled into the sphere, and the sphere looks like space. An unremarkable location in space.
The figure skips rocks across the vast nothingness, and he points to the ripples.
"You are the stone. Those ripples are your actions. You're on this path; it can change. Co'ol, you'll die at the rate you're going. You and A'roll both. A life of hedonism, you've abandoned what made you– well. You. I've seen all the outcomes. I'm letting you break free from this cycle. I'm The God Of Liberty and Destiny."
I look at the pond.
"There are trillions of sentient lifeforms out there. Why me?"
"I'm talking to them simultaneously as well. I try to steer you all on the path. Because what is done is done. A'roll has no way to steer from the path." He takes out a stone tablet, and writing in cuneiform is present on the tablet.
It instantly translates to me.
"9-29-86." marked right next to A. E'LEON. Under it also says A. E'LEON, with a line connected to them. Father and son.
"He doesn't have many days. He will die. Dread it, warn him he won't listen. As for you, you can still break free!"
He sticks out his hands, and I smack them,
"Aheia will save me! Aheia, I call upon you to cast this Djil away from me."
It covers my mouth. Anemir's hands form a knife. That knife replaces my tongue, and I cut the roof of my mouth attempting to speak.
"I'm her youngest brother."
He claps his hands. And I'm sent back into the mortal plane with a hangover. Bloodshot red eyes, a mouth that feels on fire.
"Co'ol, you're awake!" A'roll exclaims. Opa, Bo, and Oza are in the backseat crammed like tuna. I'm in the far back. A Potenes woman is sitting in the passenger seat.
"She's Angmaus."
Angmaus waves her hand. Her hair goes down to her shoulders in a wavy fashion. Three streaks are green, the rest are her normal hair color, I presume (black). She has no blemishes on her face. Behind her ear is a patch of pimples, her nose is flat and narrow like a straw, her ears are slightly tilted facing north, and she has a birthmark on her eyelid that you can see whenever she blinks.
"Also, Co'ol, we signed up for the Federation Rocketeer Corp. I get paid an extra 4500 credits if I enlist another able-bodied male."
"Why the fuck would you do that?!" I exclaim, shaking the car with my voice.
"You act like your religion is against that." He says, smiling, ear to ear. Sea to shining sea.
I hate him in the moment. But I know that in only 4 years, I'll never see him again. He'll be gone. As if he never even existed at all.
Even though we will barely get to know each other, it hurts knowing nothing he can do can prevent what will happen. I'm grieving someone who isn't even dead.