A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 48: Perfect Simulacrum

"So, that practice..." Five starts on the walk back. "You did well."

"Thanks," I utter, still smiling like a fool.

"Did it feel good? Do you really feel better?"

"Better than good," I tell him because that's the truth. "I feel lighter."

"Yeah..." But I sense there's something more in him he wants to say. "Listen, Emily..."

"What is it, Five?"

"It's just, well, watching you guys... seeing you give him everything you had, with and without your Legacy... It was a little scary to watch. You hit him with so much anger; I know you did; I saw it, and he didn't even bat an eye."

I don't know why he's bringing this up. "I wasn't angry. I was just strong."

"Ok, fine," he corrects, almost as if in resignation, "strong." He stops and brushes a hand through his buzzcut, and I realize it's because he's nervous but also because we're here. "Look, whatever you want to call it, it worried me, that's all."

"What for?"

"I know you're trying to overcome a lot, but..." I can practically see him struggling with his words. "Just don't let him change who you are, ok? I'll see you in a few."

I walk into my room feeling more disappointed than I'd like to admit, and that old rage... it's festering again under my skin. I don't like how he made it sound. I was sparring! He was helping me cool off! I don't know how long this will last or if it will at all, but he did, and for the first time in weeks, I feel stronger than I ever was. Why does he have to rain down on me? Why can't he just be as glad as I am? It's like nothing ever goes my way.

I plump down on the bed, let the dress wrinkle under my weight. Its itchy fabric tightens and constricts around my skin, but I do my best to ignore it. I interlock my fingers up and behind my head and stare up at the ceiling ruminating in everything that happened. I'm still smiling at how strong I felt in there: like a stone wall. I hope this feeling never subsides.

A yawn escapes me, and I roll onto my side, and slowly drift to sleep.

***

I'm in a vast void of space, surrounded by millions of twinkling stars, floating before my planet. The Anubis is dead ahead, hovering in orbit. It's big, looming, almost as black as the universe. It must be greater than entire cities at length! I can't imagine seeing such a warship so big over Kingston; the thought terrifies me, and it only worsens.

I hear myself scream, and suddenly, I'm pulled into the massive warship, watching myself. I'm running down a hallway, one that's long, bright, and never-ending. My blood is pumping, feet slapping, hands shaking, sweating; my gown's torn. Mogadorians chase me but that's not all. He does too—Setrákus Ra. He marches like a cheetah stalking prey, holding his staff. It's glowing!

Something stops me then, a fit of telekinesis halting my body where it stands. I try to move, but I can't. I watch myself struggle in his grip. "This is why you do not betray me," he says. "Now, I have someone I'd like you to meet." My knees hit the floor. He steps away and another shadow comes over me, and there... there I am: a third me, a perfect simulacrum stands over me, smiling, hands glowing. "Do you like my creation?" he asks. "She's perfect, don't you think? Strong, durable, and above all: immortal. But do you know what the best part is?" He doesn't give me a chance to answer. "She is loyal, and her loyalty is unwavering."

Her eyes change—from deep dark brown to black. It's creepy, like something's consuming her until she's empty. From out of nowhere, she unsheathes a sword, smiles, slurs, "You were never fit to rule."

***

"NO!!!" I sit up straight with an ache to my spine, gasping for breath and checking for holes; there are none. I'm hot and sweaty, as if the blade's still through my bust. It doesn't dissipate until the beeping registers—on my left—the endless beeping of a heartrate monitor, or at least, I think that's what it is. It's not. I don't know what it is, but there are tubes connected to my chest and arms. It pulls a dark substance into my veins; they've gone from green to grey.

I rip the tubes from my skin. It hurts worse than ripping off a band-aid. "I would've removed it for you," says a voice—Five, I realize. "Sorry I didn't. I didn't want any trouble."

"What was that?"

"Not sure. His life's work, I think. It's how he heals. He said that's what he was doing."

"Healing me? From what?"

"Malnutrition and dehydration. You feel okay?" I'm surprised by the question.

"I feel fine, I guess..." Surprisingly. Yet that nightmare still plays on loops in my head.

"Good. He wants to see you in the Training Hall."