(Dyn)

  White won after only a couple mihe silence was agonizing, and Dyn’s innate curiosity quickly became unbearable.

  “What’s with the ball?” Dyn asked. His curiosity had g him since he first spotted it.

  A clear crystal ball sat on a wooden stand in the ter of the table. It fshed purple for a sed and theuro its previous transparency. That pulse snatched Dyn’s attention and White remained silent.

  Before he could stop himself, Dyn asked, “Is this some sort of magical lie detector?”

  The crystal ball pulsed purple once again. White finally broke his silence, murmuring a few words. Dyn noticed the ball remained clear when White spoke.

  Dyn frowned, shaking his head. “That’s not very fair.” The crystal ball pulsed blue. He threw his hand up in frustration. “I ’t uand you!” he sired of the fn nguage bullshit. The ball pulsed blue again.

  White leaned forward to get a better look at Dyn’s hands. Feeling self-scious of his filthy fingers, he pulled them bad hid them uhe table in his p.

  Dyn watched something click for White as he o himself. Turning around in his seat, he sent Abs to fetething for him. This was another assumption on Dyn’s part, but Abs nodded ahe room while White turned back around, folded his cwed hands oable, resumed his vow of silence, and waited.

  Dyn wao test a theory and said, “My name is John a.” He watched as the crystal ball pulsed red and thearted rapid fire statements to firm the suspi.

  “I’m thirty-five years old.” Blue.

  “I’ve got short, wiry dark hair.” Blue.

  “I’m thin and attractive.” Purple. He paused and pondered on what that meant and then shrugged—at least it wasn’t red.

  “People say I look like an ht Dyn O’Brien.” Blue.

  “I’m tall.” Red.

  “That’s mean.” Blue.

  “But I’m five eleven.” Red.

  “Fine, I’m five ten.” Red.

  Dyn huffed and said, “e on, I’m at least five nine and a half.” Blue.

  White blinked as he listeo Dyn put his mystical crystal ball through its paces.

  “I’ve got a huge—”

  Abs walked into the room, and Dyn swore he saw the ti glimmer of blue in that ball before being interrupted. The elf looked apprehensive—like a kid who’d just broken his dad’s model rocket after being warned a billion times not to kick the ball in the house.

  ‘Not that I’ve ever dohat before,’ Dyn thought. The crystal ball pulsed red.

  “It read my thoughts?!” It pulsed blue, and Dyn did his best to stop thinking.

  Abs leaned in and whispered to White. The ivory dragon-man closed his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. It appeared Abs had failed in his quest to get White what he’d asked for.

  White gave another order to the shirtless elf, but instead of nodding and plying, he looked at White incredulously. Slowly turning around to face him, White raised his eyebrows at Abs. The shirtless elf relutly tugged off a ring he was wearing. He didn’t seem happy about it, and he spitefully threw it at Dyn.

  It hit the table, letting out two gs before rolling off the ledge and past Dyn. The sound reminded him of a quarter falling out of his pocket, back wheill used s and cash. He watched it fall to the floor, hit the wall behind him, swirling—seemingly forever.

  White gestured to the ring lying on its side, and just then, a faint Ding! echoed through the room. They all turoward the open door, where someone had just stepped off the terror tube, shouting down the hallway. Abs quickly darted out, joining in the otion.

  Dyn thought it might be Bronze. She sounded mad—big mad.

  White’s chair chirped as he stood up to see what was going on. After he disappeared through the door, Dyn looked around the room—he was alone. Cautiously, he got up and made his way to the door to peek at what was happening in the hallway.

  All three were in the middle of a heated argument. Bronze jabbed a cwed finger into White’s chest, while Abs ed an arm around her waist, trying to pull her back—a move that, if Dyn remembered correctly, hadn’t worked well the st time. White’s voice rose, the first sign that he was losing his cool and trol of the situation.

  ‘This is it,’ Dyn thought. The moment he was waiting for. This was his opportunity to escape. The terror tube at the end of the hallways would ironically be his salvation. He bolted from the doorway.

  ‘I do this,’ he told himself.

  Adrenaline was one hell of a drug. It turned a middle-aged, out of shape man into a rocket. He was moving at a pace that Past Dyn would have envied. But speed, as theoretical physicists often stated, was retive. And he really wasn’t going that fast.

  He tried to remember how the terror tube worked, but all that came to mind was closing his eyes and screaming.

  ‘Fuck.’ He hadn’t actually seen Abs use the lift. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…’ he thought as he had no choice but to it to his poorly devised pn.

  The three of them stopped arguing to wat out-of-shape man threaten to blow out a kh every step, exging looks of disbelief as he huffed past. White motioned with his head toward the slowly esg prisoner.

  Abs frowned, shook his head, and summoned an ornate green bow. With a smooth motion, he drew back the string, an arrow materializing as it notched itself, ready to fly. A moment ter and the arrow had already sailed through the air and buried itself into Dyn’s calf as he cried out.

  Dyo the ground, actally slipping out of his toga. His momentum transitioned into a tumble. Brilliant, blinding fshes of pain shot up his leg as the arrow caught and dragged along the floor with btant disregard for his impaled calf.

  The glossy floor had the slightest bit of tack, and Dyn’s mostly bare skin folloeated pattern of catg, bung, and skipping as he streaked along. Finally, he came to an unceremonious, screeg halt on his stomach. His bare chattered along the floor as it too skipped along, threatening to chip his teeth against each other.

  Out of breath, Dyn id there, naked, ass-up, shot through the leg, and half his body covered in fri burns.

  “That’s going to leave a mark,” Dyn groaned as he rolled onto his back. He stared down at the arrow lodged in his leg. “Where’d that e from?” He didn’t remember anyone having a bow a minute ago.

  Bronze reached him first. Her fist shifted into dark metal. White’s urgent shouts cut off wheruck Dyn, crushing his skull—killing him instantly.

  Death 2 - Voidspace

  Absence is what defines voidspace—a realm where nothing but time and souls exist, suspended in a state of iween. It cks everythiion, thought, and form—an endless void devoid of meaning, save for ohing: purpose. In its emptiness, voidspace serves as a cradle for souls, a pce where they are prepared for what es , stripped of the burdens of their previous lives. But for Dyn, that process was cut short once again, as the tether yanked him back.

  [Time orb]: [Dejavu] triggered. Wait.

  Dyn found himself ba the interrogation room, sitting in the unfortable chair, staring at White.

  [Time orb]: Thirty-Three Resets remain.

  Dyn’s chair honked as he kicked back from the table, surprising White and sending Abs into motion. His hands moved to his head, feeling for aal fist-shaped dents. White held up his hand, cw, or whatever he called it, and the shirtless elf stood dowurning to his post at the door. Dyn found his head as round as usual and with no ued dents.

  His eyes darted around the room, looking for the double murderer, but she wasn’t in the room with them.

  “It happened again,” Dyn muttered.

  The crystal ball pulsed blue. White spoke directly to Dyn again, his tone rising at the end—another question, no doubt.

  Dyn was still trying to figure out the nguage. “High Valyrian? Latin?” The crystal ball pulsed red.

  Dyn sighed. “We’ve been through this before.” He crossed his arms, leaning ba his chair. “I ’t uand what you’re saying.”

  The crystal ball pulsed blue. White’s head tilted ever so slightly. He beed Abs, giving him the same order as before, and Abs was off on his impossible sidequest.

  White resumed watg Dyn closely, employing the same silent tactic as before. Dyn scooted the chair forward one honk at a time until he was back at the table. Three honks ter, he decided—he wouldn’t let White win twi a row. Still bothered by his unsightly fingers, he worked at ing the gunk from under his nails—one of his many ticks whe nervous or bored. Here it was both.

  After doing his best to ighe leering dragon-man, who seemed to have eyes only for him, and pig both sets of fingernails , Dyn reached for his phoo check the time.

  ‘Goddamnit.’ Dyn sighed, remembering it was still missing. Leaning to the side, he tried peeking around the massive ivory-scaled dinosaur to see through the door and into the hallway.

  Dyn still couldn’t figure out if they were supposed to be reptiles, dinosaurs, ons. Teically, dinosaurs were just giailes that’d goinct. His face sched up as he kept cooking on the drum.

  Weren’t dragons supposed to have wings? An White firmed the distinct ck of them. Aher reptiles nor dinosaurs seemed to fully describe these bipedal, talking, stab-happy, magic-wielding creatures. If he had to choose on the spot, Dyn would’ve goh dragons. tless stories depicted them as se magic users, with a pent for shiny objects and burninating the tryside.

  The crystal ball struggled to keep up with the rapid pulses of purple and blue as Dyn cooked. White followed Dyn’s gaze, turning in his seat to g the door behind him.

  “He should be back by now…” Dyn muttered, grimag as he mentally added another win to White’s tally.

  The crystal ball pulsed blue. The frown sitting on White’s face told Dyn they shared the same thought. White huffed and resigned himself to standing, his chair barking in pliance. Pointing a cwed fi Dyn, he gestured for him to remaied while he stepped out. Dyn nodded pliantly, not like there was anywhere for him to go, anyway.

  White left the room. As he stepped into the hallway, Dyn heard a loud crack. The er of a painting smacked White in the head, shattering into pieces as the ivory dragon-man stumbled out of Dyn’s view.

  Dyn stood up. “What the f—”

  A bloodcurdling roar cut him off. White wasn’t just mad—he was fug pissed. He reappeared in the doorway, blue blood streaming from the side of his head, just below his crest. Pressing a hand to the wound, smoky gray energy fred. When White dropped his hand, the injury was gone, repced by a stony patch of gray.

  White threw his arms up, defleg another cartwheeling portrait that splintered into debris on impact. Someone was hurling them with impressive power and accuracy.

  A domed shell formed over White, shimmering with a spectrum of colors. Moments ter, it dissipated from sight. White rolled his shoulders, and a massive pair of leathery wied from his back, maing right through his robes.

  “Dragons…” Dyn cluded. “Definitely dragons.”

  A wave of pulsion hit Dyn, f fear, uainty, and doubt to bubble to the surface. He ducked behind the table in response, his curiosity struggling to overe the cowardice flooding him. Peeking above the table, he watched White stalk out of view.

  Dyn’s ce returhe moment White was out of sight. Knowing magic was real, he suspected White had some kind of fear aura. Standing up from behind the table, Dyn hurried to the doorframe. His thoughts turned back to his mortality and fragility as he cautiously poked his head past the threshold, catg sight of the dragon again, firming his suspi.

  The hallway seemed smaller now—like returning to your old middle school as an adult. White had always been massive, but now he was even rger, his wingspan tripling his size and taking up most of the hallway’s width. Dyn noticed that one wall was now bereft of Lady Spock portraits—their shattered pieces scattered across the floor.

  Dyn’s stomach dropped as vertigo hit him. An unfamiliar masked figure ran along the other wall, the oill lined with paintings. Gripping the doorframe tightly, Dyn grounded himself, realizing he wasn’t actually falling—the new guy seemed to be casually ign the ws of gravity.