Halfway through the walk, we pause at a convenience store, and we begin to loiter outside the convenience store.
A'roll hands me a bottle full of juice and shakes it.
I take a sip and down the entire 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, but now it is different.t I'm free now. I have nothing better to do besides hang out with him.
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 A'roll to stop 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 any other story, I'm confident 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 quickly? 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 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.
"We're going down there anyway, wanna walk with us?"
"I got nothin' better to do," Opa states, now joining our journey.
A'roll hands him the Civlink Music player for the hovercar. A'roll removed it from the vehicle and is using it like a speaker. We start by asking him to play music. Opa grabs the music player, investigates it, and 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 in his pocket. He clicks off and plays his playlist of Industrial techno music; every song is 180 decibels and 180 bpm.
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 swig of water from his Hydro Flask. 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.
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' on your tongue, and it has a burning sensation. Swallowing it feels like one of those circus performers who swallow swords lit on fire for a living; the burning feeling never exactly fades away.
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. I feel an intense stinging in the back of my neck.
The walk to the graduation is psychedelic, a sense of euphoria.
Every time I close my eyes, a white plain appears, the sky white, with 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 one of those bottles of Syreline I stole from the temple and devour it, leaving none left.
I thought it would cancel out the effects of the pill, but it didn't. I'm shaking, my knees are weak, my palms are all sweaty, I keep vomiting all over the ground, and I shake violently like an earthquake.
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 for the branch that's branded blue.
In a world that's all white, something being branded blue stands out like popcorn lodged in your gums. 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 glowed an ominous burgundy, his head shaped like a hawk. I believe it to be a helmet.
"To truly live, one must die." It states, in a voice similar to that of one of the temple elders. Shifting the entire climate to my early childhood.
I feel my body slump over in the outside world, then a strong pulling force pulls me 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.
"Where the fuck am I?!" I exclaim, being pushed back by a crowd of a few thousand.
I aim my head towards the stage and see that the Jenti on stage is a woman; she wears one of the Purple Gang 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 spiky, glittery belt.
Opa's on stage, swanton-bombing into the crowd. The whole band's gimmick is corny; it uses spiritual imagery just to look cool. They're flashing images of several deities on the stadium's projector of the stadium.
A picture of a black cube and finally a Hawk with a cape appears.
I feel a sense of familiarity when I look at it. My body shakes, I escape from the crowd surf
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 instead of the sandals I was wearing when I got here — 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 into the air.
Opa passes through the crowd of a couple of thousand like an explorer cutting leaves down a tree.
"You gave your Purple Hearts jacket to that Aheian girl on stage," Opa says while patting the top of his head.
"What? It's the Purple Gang Jacket. It's not an icon; it's a core part of my city's culture. Why did A'roll let me give that away?" I turn around
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's on the group 'The Liberators.' Due to Federation law, only one group can have a team name, and I assume in about two years' time we're probably going to be teammates.
"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 squeeze 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.
"I'm excommunicated."
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. Morbidly obese, 640kg atleast, that horse looks to be in pain.
I tap my head and notice there's not that little turban on top of it.
"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 branding. I got it at birth."
"Ah, okay. My name's Oza'nagi Luheral RoséGold, capital G. Yes, the richest family in the history of civilization. We have 50 houses, which means clans for all of you, plebeians. I'm from Maison D'Oza." 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 top of my head, tilting it to the side.
"Wow, you all have some long-ass names." I push the hat to the floor and stomp on it.
"Why'd you do that?!" She yells.
The figure blips behind her. She turns around, points to my eyes, and makes a gesture of them being large.
"What are you looking at? Jenti?" She states, pouting. She's upset, very–very upset.
"Hey!" Bo grabs her by her shoulder.
A fight's happening behind her; a dragon dude is fighting a goblin. To the death, in a mosh pit.
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.
I stumble around, my arms shaking, my body feels like it's contorting into some sort of liquid. I can't stand, it gets harder to breathe, I laugh uncontrollably, and I also feel like I'm suffocating.
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 will both die. A life full of meaningless Hedonism. "
I look at the pond.
"The Syreline Reincarnation cycle spins uncontrollably. Aheia was your guaranteed way out."
I step back from him.
"You were excommunicated from your temple, not for your bad actions, but they knew that somewhere down the line, either you or one of the people you may hang around with could bring about the end of Aheian society. Exactly the way it's described in the book of Pabiele. They knew Aheia was going to let me select who this individual may be, and I chose you.
I tap my foot on the ground.
"She's not real. So, what's your point?"
I'll show you my point, Co'ol.
He presses his finger on my forehead.
My mark burns violently; it feels like the flesh is being melted off.
"There are trillions of sentient lifeforms out there. Why me?"
He takes out a stone tablet, and writing in an ancient language 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 connecting them.
"They are doomed. Their family serves one purpose, and that is to be catalysts, so my chosen —I punch the bird creature in the face.
He pauses for a moment.
"Do you think you're bigger than the program?" He slices my finger off with his wing and pulls me in with a talon. The figure lifts my skull up with the talon and presses it against the countless people on the floor.
They all scream.
"LISTEN TO HIM, BOY! LISTEN!! WE'RE TRAPPED HERE FOREVER! PLEASE! LISTEN!"
"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; the blood from it turns into fire and continues to burn my mouth.
Anemir raises his wing and punches my forehead.
I see a vision, a vision of a boy with bushy eyebrows, like A'roll, flying through some sort of space shuttle and destroying it.
I see a massive battle on what appears to be Celestia. I see countless other visions.
Anemir grabs me by my collar using one of his talons.
"You don't understand me now, but you sure will soon enough." He slashes my face with his claw.
I feel a slight pressure on my left cheek.
I blink twice and open my eyes to see Bo looking over me with the rest of the group. We're inside A'Roll's, lowrider, I can tell from how the roof looks.
I have these 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. I smell sweat and synthetic fabric, mixed with the rose smell of perfume.
"She's Angmaus." A'roll gestures towards his partner.
"He knows that, A'roll."
A'roll turns up the AC, or the power of it. The temperature stays the exact same; he does this in hopes we can't hear him argue with Angmaus.
Angmaus waves her hand. Her hair cascades down to her shoulders; it is beautiful and wavy. Three streaks are green; the rest are her normal hair color, I presume (black). She has no blemishes on her face. Her nose is flat and narrow, reminiscent of a drinking straw, and her ears tilt slightly upward, like antennae tuning into unseen signals. A small birthmark adorns her eyelid, its dark spot visible every time she blinks.
She has this massive smile on her face, and judging from first impressions, she's the opposite of A'roll in every way.
He turns down the AC.
"Co'ol, meet the Liberators! We're going on our first mission next year! He exclaims.
Bo and Oza clap their hands.
Opa sighs with Angmaus.
"Wish I was in your guys' gang." Opa mouths.
Angmaus places her hand on A'roll's shoulder.
"Are you sure you want to go through with joining the rocketeer corps? Have you not heard what their basic training is like?
A'roll takes out a pack of gumballs and eats them.
"Where else can a screw-up like me learn some discipline, huh? Where else am I meant to be mature at? Huh?! You said you wanted someone more mature, and that's what I'm doing — being mature! Next time you see Co'ol and me, we're going to be men! And if I die! I'm going to die lit!" He exclaims.
The whole car goes silent.
I yell, "Yeah!" and raise my fist in the air.
And so does the rest of the car.
Angmaus rolls her eyes and looks out of the window.
"Plus, it pays me 60,000 credits a year; 4,500 extra credits a month go to my spouse! Does that not sound appealing to you?
Angmaus looks at A'roll and points out the window towards her house. A small, free home.
"Well..I sure hope in 29,982 you'll be a man, and not this immature child you are now." She says, walking into her house.
There's a long pause.
"So, Co'ol. What was getting high like? " A'roll asks.
"Not doing that shit again." I look at the window and laugh.
I feel all around my body, my finger is there, my tongue isn't bleeding, my mouth isn't onfire. There is still that cut on my face. On my left cheek, there is a stain of lipstick on there that stains my finger when I run my hand across my face.