Dimension Of Perfection (And Its Flaws)

Chapter 18 - Society Of Superiors

The walls of the alley escape my sight and the harsh glare of the sun dissipates as my eyes widen at the city in front of us. This is not the Avalonia I remember, rather it seems that now most of the buildings fencing the streets are striking straight up into the sky and clawing at the atmosphere, stretching far above me. Usually, they weren't this high, or this imposing.

A little to the left, a gleaming silver beast of a statue stands as the centerpiece of a pocket of green, similar to the one I met that guy Ruthvik in.

Above the statue, a giant portrait billboard plastered across the gargantuan office reads in bold, blue text: 'WE NEED YOU', followed by smaller text that also reads: 'THE PURPLE MENACE CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO PREVAIL'. The graphic above the brash slogan is of a suited man pointing toward the audience while frowning with determination.

I nearly look back down, before noticing above the poster are larger words blinking in a cycle reading: 'ENLIST NOW.'

The street that keeps going away from us down the left of the statue seemingly runs off toward a highway and serves as the only way to see the cityscape distant from us.

Looking back down, the roads continue straight to my left and lead pedestrians to a better view of the surrounding skyline, with what looks like a bridge connecting to another island of towering skyscrapers.

Stuck to the side of the buildings down both ends of the street, are banners and flags flapping in the channeled wind blowing down the narrow road.

We stand at the cusp of the side alley and observe as normal people get along with their normal lives. Some carry briefcases, some are cycling, and one is carting along a sleeping child in a pram.

If it wasn't obvious, this isn't anywhere near the decrepit nature of the Underground, emphasized by the fact that people here are evidently capable of emotions other than despair.

We wait and watch as an older Sackperson strolls in front of us, stepping out into the way once he passes. 4663 aims right so I trail behind her on the footpath.

My eyes dart back and forth as both sides of my view focus and unfocus while I look around.

To my right more people are innocently getting on with their day, discretely acknowledging my handsome mug and shifting their expressions a small amount.

My eyes snap elsewhere every time I catch someone looking my way, as I try not to freak out. My efforts are in vain, as I accidentally remember the first time I met those egg thingies.

A string of thoughts flash through my head, as my constant eye movements ramp up.

My fist dives for my pant pocket, trying not to show that I'm beginning to shake. Additionally, my hands are also still red, which I definitely should've brought up earlier.

In my head I attempt to create an excuse as to why they'd be looking at me, hoping to position myself to not think about or recognise it.

There's much more impressive and interesting things to look at other than these weirdos.

I say weirdos appropriately here; they're all wearing geometric, strangely extravagant dresses and suits with centered lines of symmetry, that certainly clash with my current outfit.

I'm of course still aware of how f*cking dumb I look, but as long as they don't break out their pitchforks, I think we'll have won here.
But the absolutely intense itching of spray paint against my armpits and neck sure is making me feel the opposite.

I can just barely see some cotton balls dangling off my horns as I walk, as the urge to rip one off to fiddle with screams into my psyche.

The noise of vehicles blowing past distract me and feel very on-brand for Avalonia; that is, only all electric humming and sounds of scientific sorcery that would make a Victorian chimney sweep dissolve on a moment's notice.