With the smell of the jungle still lingering on their bodies, Astra and Bootstrap found themselves thrust into a completely new, grim reality. The air here was thick with the scent of putrid sewage, wet trash and decaying rats, and the sky reflected that with dark, swirling clouds that seemed to cling to the broken skyline like a funeral garment. The city they just entered was a place where hope had come to settle in for its final days in a hospice.

  The buildings were big and imposing; their still proud facades now pocketed with bullet holes and scorched by fire. The streets were lined with what you would expect from a military operation with broken down cars and crumbled buildings everywhere. Everywhere Astra looked, there were signs of conflict: abandoned barricades, graffiti scrawled in anger, rebellion, desperation, and the ever-present rumble of distant explosions.

  This world reminded Astra of his own, the world he had fled just recently. The same sense of unease settled in his stomach, the same gnawing fear that no place was truly safe. However, there was something else here too, something that pulled at him and made him hesitate even as Bootstrap scanned their surroundings for the next place to stay before jumping to the next place.

  “Not another one of these,” Bootstrap muttered pulling his cloak tighter around him and instinctively checked his bag. “We need to find shelter before we can attempt to jump again. The gemstone needs time to recharge. Last time I saw a place this grim, I ended up on a world where someone had literally stolen all the colors. Imagine navigating an entirely gray world, definitely not my most enjoyable trip.”

  “Interesting, a world without color…” Astra said as he looked in the distance.

  As they moved through the trash heap they called a city, Astra’s attention was drawn to a group of children huddled near the entrance of a narrow alley. There were a couple of children around six, seven, or eight years old, their faces dirtied with grim, their clothes ragged and torn standing around waiting for something. It was hard to tell the ages of these malnourished children. They were gathered next to a jewelry store, the kind with barred windows and a flickering neon sign that spoke of past glories. The children tried to eye all the passersby, their hands outstretched in silent pleas for food or money, but their eyes and gesture were evaded or ignored. The children seemed used to the treatment as they kept on moving on to the next people who passed by.

  Astra’s heart tightened at the sight. These children were like him once. Lost and desperate, they clung onto this world even though this world had no mercy for the weak. He knew he couldn’t just walk away. Even if it was just for a small part of their day, he wanted to keep them company.

  “Look, Bootstrap,” Astra said, his voice firm, “we should stay here for a while.”

  Bootstrap turned to him, a look of surprise crossing his face. “Are you mad? This place is a war zone, even more so than the last one. We need to get a move on as quickly as possible. Stick around here too long, and you’ll end up looking like those dead rats rotting in the gutter.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Astra replied, his gaze fixed on the children. “But they need our help. We can’t just leave them here. Come on, even if it’s for a little while.” Astra turned to Bootstrap with a pleading look, then back at the children.

  Bootstrap followed Astra’s gaze. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “Fine,” Bootstrap conceded, his voice calm but edged with pragmatism. “But don’t get too attached. We’re not staying forever, and you know it. Once we leave those children behind, then what? Who will protect them when we’re gone?” His gaze lingered, a flicker of concern breaking through his typically measured demeanor.

  Astra nodded, and with a final glance at Bootstrap, he made his way over to the children. They looked up at him with wide, worn out eyes, not used to strangers stopping for them. Astra knelt down, offering them a gentle smile.

  “Um, would you kids like some food?” he asked softly.

  One of the children, a little girl with matted hair and a determined face, nodded. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We haven’t eaten in a few days.”

  Astra believed them since he’s familiar with what hunger looks like and reached into his pouch, pulling out some small pieces of dense bread he had saved from their last world. He handed it to the girl who took it with both hands, her eyes lighting up with gratitude. The other children crowded around, and Astra distributed what little food he had, reminding them to eat slowly, and vowing to find more. Bootstrap didn’t want to stand there all covered up looking like a grim reaper silently staring so he also gave them a couple of meat jerky from his bag.

  As they finish up the meal Astra asked them where do they normally stay. With reluctance, the first little girl told him she can show him since she can tell he was a nice man. The group of kids led Astra and Bootstrap passed barred up shops, partially obscured alleyways, and through an old sewer grate to a clearing outside the main city.

  Arriving at the little broken down orphanage at the outskirts of the city, Astra saw several other children talking to an elderly lady.

  Seeing the way the children held on to her dress, Astra deduced, She must be the caretaker for these children. Astra walks toward the old lady and introduces himself.

  “Um hi, I’m Astra and this is my friend Bootstrap. Are you in charge of the children here?” Astra said.

  “Hmm. Bootstrap is a strange name, but who am I to judge. Yes, I am the owner and caretaker of this orphanage,” the old lady replied slowly.

  The old lady had light olive skin and dark gray hair tied up in a tight bun. She had a very kind but worried look on her face. The old lady politely introduced herself as Lucy and told Astra and Bootstrap about the orphanage. “This place used to be a school before the war for independence, but now, it’s a shelter for orphans. To be honest, we do not get very many visitors around these parts so we don’t necessarily need any help with any troubles.”

  Lucy continued cautiously. “I don’t mind you gentlemen staying for a couple of days to keep the children company, but if the military catch wind of foreigners here, they will come knocking on our doors with more than just words and questions.” Her eyebrows turned upwards in the center creating worry lines across her forehead. “Please don’t endanger the children.”

  Knowing how helpless people normally feel during war time, Astra decided to not stir up trouble. “If my presence could cause trouble for these kids, I should try to help them out with something that’ll have lasting effects. What did I need help with when I was little?” Astra pondered out loud. Memories of his own battles against the broken system gnawed at him. He remembered all those futile attempts to punch his way through walls that never budged. His mind, not his fists, had always been his true weapon. Now, watching these kids struggle against the same invisible barriers, wisdom from his city streets stirred in his thoughts. He could arm them with something more valuable than fighting skills. He could give them the special knowledge that had saved him, lessons carved from surviving in his own wasteland.

  “Pickpocketing!” exclaimed Astra as he gathered the five children that he thought were the fastest. “The best way to get all the rewards with no hard work. Well, maybe a little hard work.”

  Bootstrap slaps the back of Astra’s head, sighing. “And here I had hoped you actually had a good plan.”

  Astra rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

  “What? Don’t tell me you are above stealing. I mean, you’ve probably done some questionable stuff on your travels too,” Retorted Astra, remembering the time Bootstrap stole the swamp cultists money.

  “Whether or not I’ve done it before is irrelevant,” Bootstrap said firmly, his voice taking on the tone of a seasoned mentor. “The fact remains, yours is a terrible idea. Wrong place, wrong time, and absolutely the wrong approach. All you’d accomplish is setting them on a course for trouble down the line. What we should be doing,” he continued, his eyes narrowing with calculated precision, “is teaching them practical skills like how to fish in the river to the south or gather scrap metal from the junkyard to trade for coin. That’s how you equip them for survival, not by making rash decisions.”

  “Okay, that’s one idea. We will do it your way for now, but how do you know where the river and junkyard is?” Astra asked.

  “I have runes on me that you couldn’t begin to imagine so believe me when I inform you, I am ready for any possibility, unlike you.” Teased Bootstrap.

  So, yeah. I am going to need to ask him more about these runes and magic stuff that he has on him later. Sounds like juicy new skills to learn after we settle the business with these little guys here, Astra thought.

  So all seven children and Astra gathered around the riverbed next to Bootstrap the next morning. While listening to Bootstrap demonstrating trapping methods and material management to the other children, one particular little girl named Clara tugged on Astra’s shirt. He recognized her as the first little girl that he spoke to on the first day.

  The girl looked up at him, her expression curious. “Mister, why’s your name Astra? Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

  The question caught Astra off guard. It wasn’t the first time anyone had asked him that, but as he opened his mouth to reply, he realized something even more surprising. The girl was speaking his language. He took it for granted that he would need the translation rune on every world, but he realized that he could understand the words that were flowing out of her mouth. Her words resonated in his mind. The realization that this must be the same planet that he was from, hit him even harder. It occurred to him that his entire planet is riddled with war.

  Astra realized that he did not know how this war even started just that it was slowly devouring his entire planet. Of course, there are no safe places in this god forsaken world anymore, thought Astra. It would seem that no matter where I go there will be someone’s making their problems everyone else’s problem. Astra wanted to say this but kept it to himself instead. He did not want to worry the children even more if he could help it.

  “Well, it’s not really my name,” Astra said after a moment of thinking, his voice quiet. “I don’t really know my real name or who my parents were. Like, they could be anyone. I would like to think they were some rural royals running away from war, or maybe, they were scientists who found out some secret they shouldn’t have. But, truly, I don’t know anything about them no matter how hard I try.”

  Astra’s finger tugged at a loose thread on his shirt, his mind wondering into the past. “I was found in a pile of rubble by an old witch. Umm, my country was at war, just like this one. A lot of things happened, and the bad men attacked my town. So, everyone was gone except me. Why or how it was me remains a mystery. Sometimes, I think to myself that it should have been someone else; however, this is reality and it is what it is.”

  The children, now all listening, waited intently, their eyes wide with sympathy.

  “Yeah, the witch was a wanderer,” Astra continued, his gaze distant as he remembered. “She found me while she was scavenging for supplies. For some reason, she took me in. She was… eccentric, weird, to say the least. She had a unique way of talking to you like she was not exactly talking to you but talking to someone in you.”

  A gentle sigh left his lips. “Yeah, life wasn’t too bad. From what I can remember, she was a good teacher too. She taught me how to read, how to write, and survive. Like for example, she taught me that opportunities are often missed by people because it is dressed in overalls and looked like work. I still use that to motivate me to today. She told me that it was a famous quote from an old inventor she hated. Oh, and she loved the stars. It was one of the few things that felt like home to her. No matter where she traveled to, she could still see the same old stars in the sky watching over her. Umm, she also believed she could see the future in them. Her eyes would sparkle and glow when he spoke about the stars.”

  Astra let out a little chuckle. “She was kind of wacky. Maybe, it was because she didn’t have a good start in life either. Just like me she was also an orphan of war so she didn’t like to settle or even give her real name to anyone. Yeah, I supposed because of me she settled down in the neighboring country. It actually felt nice to have a little home. It was supposed to be a safer country, but war is like a cancer. It spreads and does not stop. When you least expect it, it shows up.”

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  Astra’s hand curled into a tight fist and took a deep breath. Sighing, he continued, “One day without warning, the fighting reached our new home. That quiet morning she went out to get food and… just never came back. The morning passed, then the afternoon came. She didn’t even come home for tea. I waited all day for her. Eventually, soldiers came instead, and they told me she was dead. Like, I didn’t even get a chance to tell her good-bye. I didn’t even have time to cry. They just bombarded me with questions. They asked me if I had any family, where I would go, and for my name.”

  “She never gave me a name,” Astra said softly. “She just called me ‘boy.’ I didn’t have any of those things. So, I gave them the only name I could think of, Astra. It was the name of the old witch, the only person who had ever cared for me. I had no family when she found me either, but losing the old witch was somehow worse. At least I didn’t remember losing my parents so it didn’t hurt as much as this.”

  Shaking his head, he continued, “Anyway, I ended up going with the soldiers to a bigger city.”

  The children were silent, absorbing the whole story. Clara who had spoken earlier looked at him with a newfound understanding. “So, she’s still with you, even now. She’s in your name, Mr. Astra.”

  Astra smiled, a warmth spreading through him at the thought. “Yes,” he said, “I think she is. Every time I hear the name Astra, I feel like she’s watching over me. Maybe it was destiny. Yeah, destiny.”

  “Oh, Oh. Astra can you tell us how stars work? What are they?” yelled a child in the back.

  “Hey, did the witch show you how to cast magic?” asked another child.

  “Did she really see the future?” chimed in another one.

  Astra also noticed that Bootstrap was listening intently to his story too. Bootstrap appeared to be reminiscing about something with a hum of regret as Astra finished his story.

  The children huddled closer to him, and for the first time in a long time, Astra felt the warmth of belonging. A real connection to these lost souls who reminded him so much of himself. Even if his foster homes always had heaters to keep the house warm, he had never felt this kind of warmth before. He didn’t know how long they would stay in this world, but for now, he knew that helping these children was the right thing to do. It was something he wished another person would have done for him.

  The days spent with the children at the orphanage were some of the best days that Astra had in a long time. The children loved him, and he felt like he had a purpose there. Bootstrap also took an active mentor role to the children and Astra when it came to proper schooling. Bootstrap and Astra both served as tutors for the children when it came to life skills. Bootstrap also showed Astra some small tips about magic too namely just how to spot a magic user and some of their common traps.

  Bootstrap sighed deeply as he watched Astra huddled with two of the children, clearly ignoring earlier warnings. The young man was demonstrating how to move quietly and lift an item unnoticed, a skill that had the kids wide-eyed with excitement.

  Meanwhile, Bootstrap and the other children worked on something more practical. He focused on teaching them how to scout for edible plants, locate fresh water, and identify safe places to sleep within the ruins of the city. “These are the skills that will keep you alive,” he said, his tone both patient and authoritative. “Surviving is not about stealing; it’s about adapting. You outlast trouble by being smarter than it.”

  Astra reassured the children that it was a useful skill regardless of what Bootstrap thought. Pickpocketing was a core skill that Astra had developed to survive in his daily life. Whether it was getting his money back from his abusive father or stealing lunch money from the rich kids at school, that skill is what kept him alive. Even going beyond just being a survival skill for Astra, pickpocketing became a skill that gave him back a bit of control in his life as one of the few things that he had a choice in the matter.

  Among the children, there was one that Astra was the closest with. One that Astra felt like he could see a bit of himself in. Clara was the oldest kid at the orphanage at about ten years old. She was the fastest and most clever of the children. She had a real knack for reading people and by extension really good at picking pockets. There was a certain resilience in her that Astra can’t seem to ignore, almost like she was born to be something greater and she knew it. She was also an eternal optimist for which Astra loved her for especially considering the circumstances. Astra also got to know Damian who was a mischief maker. He liked to make sarcastic remarks at every situation, but deep down, he cared a lot about everyone, helping with all the chores without being asked. He was meticulous and quick witted which made it all the more frustrating when he was pulling pranks on people. Then, there was Sarah, who would always try to feed everyone before she ate for herself. She was very down to earth and hard working above all. She did her best to keep the peace between all the children, but truth be told, she caused a lot of the arguments herself. Finally, the mother to them all, Lucy, was the most humbling of them all. She sacrificed so much of her life to raising orphans in this city. She sold all of her belongings from back when her family had money and power to stay here with the children who had no means to leave the city. Despite being an old lady she still had a fiery spirit and will fight off anyone even soldiers who approach the house with bad intentions. There were plenty of times when Astra could see himself just staying here and protecting this small house filled with kids forever.

  But life had a unique way of keeping the story going; soon, it was time to leave. Bootstrap’s patience was up by the end of the month, and so, the two started to pack up. “Don’t forget to grab all your extra clothing. I know we were both pretty active here, but don’t forget all your essentials,” Bootstrap lectured.

  There wasn’t too much to pack since neither of them brought much to the orphanage to begin with. They were ready to leave before late afternoon. As they were both starting to leave, Clara runs up to Astra yelling for them to stop for one final good bye.

  “Astra! Astra! Hold up. I have one more thing for you. Before you leave I managed to ‘find’ this fancy deck of playing cards or some kind of cards after some snooty rich guy in town dropped them.” Clara rejoiced with a playful wink so that Bootstrap wouldn’t think she was out stealing. “I just want you both to have something to remember us by before you guys leave.”

  Astra laughed and avoided Bootstrap’s glare. Bootstrap had caught on to what Astra was doing a while ago but was waiting for him to confess to Bootstrap himself. Somewhere along the way Astra had learned to lighten up and be comfortable around everyone especially Bootstrap. He felt like he can be more free around Bootstrap. But, that also meant he’ll definitely hear about that one later. Astra also thought that he would miss Clara infinitely more.

  She was a breath of fresh air with her cheerful smile and positive demeanor every day. Even now she stayed positive and even went out of her way to get Bootstrap and Astra a parting gift. However, Astra looked at the deck, and the impact of what he saw knocked the wind out of him. It was the same deck of cards the fortune teller had back at the market. It gave off an ominous feeling. It was a deck embroidered with a black cat on it and the written words “Boo” on it.

  In that moment, it was like time stood still. Something wasn’t quite right, but Astra couldn’t tell what it was until it all happened. An explosion ripped through the air, its force slamming into Astra’s bones and hurling him, Clara, and Bootstrap in different directions. The blast pierced his eardrums with a familiar signature that churned his stomach. A ringing filled his ears. Familiar with military grade explosive, Astra’s instinct kicked in. His stomach turned when he surveyed the surrounding area.

  The world swayed and muffled around him like he’d sunk beneath murky waters. Only two thought cut through the thick fog of his mind, Clara. Where was Clara? Was that all my fault? His legs felt like lead weights as the high-pitched whine drowned out everything else. His heart thundered against his ribs as his vision darted through the chaos, desperate for any sign of her. The all-enveloping guilt of everything that lead up to the event suffocated his heart.

  W-was this all because I taught her to steal?

  Finally, he saw that Bootstrap was already up and carrying Clara across the field to the orphanage at speeds with which humans should not be capable of. Through the haze, Bootstrap’s form blazed with ethereal light, his runic tattoos igniting in a kaleidoscope of colors as he sprinted toward the orphanage. Clara’s body laid limp in Bootstraps arms. His heart raced as Astra panned over to see two menacing man in cloaks approached the orphanage. I doubted they are here for a tea party. I can’t let anything else happen to the kids. Astra thought as he balled his hands into fist.

  Uh, what am I even doing? Bootstrap was up and ready instantly, and I am just rolling around pathetically. I am not a kid anymore. I have to do something to get their attention while Bootstrap gets everyone to safety, Astra reasoned.

  “Yo, hey! If you two were looking for a good time, I believe the gentlemen’s club was in the other direction. Or maybe you two can just go fuck yourself!” Astra screamed.

  Astra hoped in his head. I can’t hear worth a damn over this high pitched ringing in my head, but I’m sure they got the message.

  The two looked at him, but didn’t pay him any mind otherwise. Astra pissed off at the whole situation, picked up some rocks and started throwing them at one of the man. If there was one thing Astra was good at, it was annoying people. The rock nailed him straight in the head like it was guided by magic. The rock ignited the man’s fury. The man took out a card from his pocket and threw it in Astra’s direction, and it blew up with bang just like before. Astra ducked just in time, the card slicing past as he rolled to the side and charged toward the man at full speed.

  Oh okay, so that was him earlier with the explosion. So was it a different kind of magic or tech because I didn’t see any magic glow, thought Astra as he made more mental notes to ask Bootstrap later.

  When Astra got near to the man, he recognized the man’s face. It wasn’t the man’s feature that stood out to Astra, but it was the moment that he shared with his son that made Astra remember him. It was the poor busy monk from the previous world. If this was part of his business trip, then he was not the kind of guy Astra had initially thought he was.

  “Hey, does your son know your are out here literally killing innocent children for business?” Questioned Astra.

  Those words startled the monk just enough for Astra to close the gap and wound up to punch the monk. However, just as Astra was about to land the punch, the other man, who looked like what you would get if you crossed a meth head with a bodybuilder, intercepted Astra’s arm and performed a textbook one armed shoulder throw. The world spun as his attacker executed a perfect shoulder throw, slamming Astra into the ground with enough force to explode dust and dirt into the air. Astra’s lungs emptied on impact. Before he could recover, a massive knee crashed into his stomach, pinning him like an insect. The behemoth loomed over him, turning each of Astra’s breaths into a desperate struggle against the crushing weight. Questions poured from above, but Astra could barely focus as his chest compressed like a balloon in a vice grip, ribs creaking under the relentless pressure.

  “Where is the stone?” One of them said sharply. “I should have known it was you when I first saw you on Kukulkan.” He hissed.

  Without missing a beat, the two men roughed Astra up a bit then started to dig in his bag looking for the gemstone. Their hands moved quickly, rifling through his bag and yanking at his pockets with practiced efficiency. One even went further, tugging at Astra’s boots in search of the gemstone. The bigger one started to lift up his fist in anger again, but this time it started to glow. The nearby dust and dirt was starting to rise and form on his fist.

  Fortunately for Astra, at that moment, Bootstrap came back to whack the monk in the head with a wooden chair leg effectively taking him out of the fight. Then, like a skilled assassin, Bootstrap fired off a string of words for an incantation and stabbed the big guy in the chest with an odd shaped glowing blade. There was no hesitation at all as he pulled the dagger out leaving the big guy’s body to slump down to the ground.

  Bootstrap wiped the blood soaked blade on the big buy’s cloak. “Come on we have to take the little man too. and I’ll not have the children endangered on our account. The risk grows with every moment we linger. Gather your belongings from the ground, quickly. We’re jumping, and we’re jumping now.” Bootstrap said with utmost urgency as he scanned the surrounding area.

  He pulled the hurt Astra along to where the old monk was lying down like a dad pulling a tired child along. Astra, who was still recovering from his beating, felt a sense of reluctance as he saw the big guy’s lifeless body hit the ground. Even though he has seen dead bodies before, he never saw someone die right before his very eyes. The feeling unsettled Astra, but he pulled himself together in time for Bootstrap to dig in his bag. He didn’t want to feel bad for the big guy since he knew what could happen to all the children if he did survive, but Astra didn’t want to feel like he caused this death either.

  What is going to happen to the kids… I don’t know if I even want to know. Astra thought as he felt ashamed of himself for not being able to take responsibility.

  First, Bootstrap yanked a length of rope from his bag, his movements practiced and deliberate, as he bound the monk’s hands tightly. His eyes remained focused, sharp with suspicion. Then, he reached back into his bag for the next item. Pulling the gemstone out of his bag, Bootstrap activated the gemstone transporting all three of them to the next place.

  The world warped and twisted as Astra clung to Bootstrap’s arm. The sickening lurch of the jump magic ended as abruptly as it began, depositing them in a dimly lit forest. The oppressive darkness seemed alive, the air thick with an almost tangible malevolence. Shadows hung heavy in the air, and the dim light filtering through the thick canopy did little to alleviate the oppressive atmosphere. The ground was uneven, damp, and covered in gnarled roots that clawed at their boots. Astra staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach as the nausea of post-jumping sickness hit him.

  "Where… where are we?" Astra asked, his voice shaky. Astra began to comment on his surrounding, but the sudden urge to go puke interrupted his thoughts as he ran towards some bushes off to the side.

  Bootstrap, already scanning the surroundings, muttered, "Not anywhere I recognize," he muttered. "That’s peculiar." His tone carried an edge of unease.

  Behind them, the monk stirred, groaning as he tried to sit up. The monk’s normally composed demeanor was rattled, and post jumping sickness had taken its toll. His sharp eyes flicked around the forest, narrowing in thought. “This place…” the monk trailed off, furrowing his brow. “I have seen it before. It feels familiar, but I cannot quite place it.”

  Bootstrap turned to him, his tone sharp. “Start talking, Eadrich. What are you guys doing here and who do you work for?”

  When Eadrich hesitated, Bootstrap grabbed the rope binding his wrists and gave it a sharp tug, forcing the monk to meet his eyes. “You’ve got one chance to explain,” Bootstrap said, his tone low and commanding. “Don’t forget. I know where your family is. You know I’ll do what I have to.” His words were calm, measured, but they carried the weight of a man who wasn’t bluffing.

  Eadrich paled, his usually composed mask slipping as fear flickered across his face. “Wait,” he stammered. “How do you know about them? About my family?”

  “I know more about you than you know about me, monk.” Bootstrap said in a low commanding tone.

  Eadrich swallowed hard, his defiance crumbling under the weight of Bootstrap’s words. “You… you have something the Shadow Garden wants,” he admitted. “Something they believe belongs to them. But it’s too late, Wanderer. Even if you handed it over, they wouldn’t spare your lives.”

  Bootstrap’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s their endgame? They already have the means to jump dimensions. What more could they want with the gemstone?”

  The grim question hung in the air.