18th December (Thursday), late evening
“That card blinked at ,” I said, still staring at it, completely thrown off by what I’d just seen.
“That happens sotis, right?” Shadow Sophie replied casually, though the tilt of her head said she already knew my answer. “Or… it doesn’t, in your world?” she added, catching the look on my face.
“No,” I said slowly. “Not unless they’re magical and most things in my world aren’t.”
“I can assure you it happens here sotis,” she said, looking around my room. “You’ll have to get used to it. What did you expect to find, anyway?”
“I honestly don’t know, Soph,” I admitted, still half-fixated on the card. “A man once asked if my art ever dreams of . I thought I might find the answer here.”
Her brow furrowed. “Dream? What does that an?”
“Oh, right,” I said, snapping my fingers. “I forgot you guys don’t sleep.”
She blinked at as if I’d just declared myself from another planet, again.
“You people drift when you’re doing mindless tasks, right?” I asked.
“Yes, pretty much.”
“What happens to your mind then?”
“What do you an?”
“Like… are you aware of what’s going on around you or not?”
“Oh.” She leaned back, thinking about it. “It’s hard to explain. No scientist can, really. We’re vaguely aware, like being in a fog, but ti passes quickly. When we co back, we know what happened, like rembering sothing we didn’t quite live through. It feels like an old mory we just… found.”
“So if you were watching a series and drifted,” I said, “you’d co back knowing what happened, but not having seen it happen?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding slowly, “so dreaming is similar, but not quite. It happens when we sleep. We lie down, close our eyes, and ‘wake up’ hours later refreshed, though we’re not aware of what’s going on while it happens. Sotis, during that state, we experience dreams—stories, situations, sotis entire lives—that feel real while they’re happening. But they only exist in our minds.”
“So it’s like the death effect,” she said quietly.
I hesitated. “We only die once, Soph. Like your Rapture. Each death is permanent. I wouldn’t know what happens beyond that.” I took a deep breath, then followed with a heavy question. “You dream during your death?”
“I haven’t died yet,” she said with a faint, wry smile. “But I’ve heard of people experiencing what you just described.”
Her eyes flicked toward the card again, still lying between my fingers, the painted eye watching us in perfect silence.
I turned it gently in my hand and for a second ti, it blinked.
“How are you going to check if they dream about you, then?” Sophie asked, her voice cautious but curious.
“In our world,” I began, “there’s an assumption that our dreams and thoughts influence your world and that’s why you undergo Changes.” I felt a little pang of dread at dropping such a heavy idea on her, but though her eyes widened, she didn’t panic. She just waited, listening.
“And,” I continued, “we also think that inanimate objects, like this card, for example, change because of their counterparts dreaming in our world.”
I walked over to the desk and placed the blinking card down gently, then reached into my holder and pulled out another one just like it. I set it beside the first.
“One of these,” I said, pointing at the second card, “dreamt changes onto this one. Because I was the author of those changes.”
Sophie leaned closer. “So they dreamt of you after all?”
“I’d say they just passed on the change,” I said slowly.
“But they’d have to be aware of those changes first, right?”
“I don’t know, Sophie. Maybe. Does that make them dream of ? I’d say it’s not definite, but it’s possible.”
She crossed her arms and gave a thoughtful look. “I’m no expert, but this whole ‘Changes’ thing you just dropped on … oh girl, I could be famous for bringing it up.” She laughed nervously. “But who’d believe ? That there’s another world influencing ours?”
“There’s a kicker, though,” I said, eting her gaze. “Yours influences ours as well. I’m sure of it now. Your Lex? She changed . Since I developed my Domain, I’ve been doing things I’d never have done before. Other people have noticed it too. I just never realized there might be a person behind it all.”
“Person?” she asked softly.
“I could show you, if you want,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “My Domain, that is.”
“Of course! That’d be lovely,” she said, her face lighting up with curiosity.
I stepped closer and touched her arm gently. A part of hoped for more, so flicker of understanding from the world itself, but maybe that was too much to expect. Maybe my art wasn’t ready to answer the question gnawing at the back of my mind. Still, I would keep making, keep testing, keep looking. One day, I’d get my answer.
“What’s going to happen?” Sophie asked as I stood beside her.
“You might feel like sothing’s pulling at you or nothing at all,” I said. “Depends on whether you have so Authority in you. That’s what we call magical power, the ability to shape things. But overall, I’m just going to teleport us into my Domain.”
This text was taken from . Help the author by reading the original version there.
She nodded, calm and trusting, and with a thought I drew Liora into the weave of my authority within my aura and brought all of us through.
There was no resistance. The world folded neatly around us, and then we were standing inside my Domain, bathed in that kaleidoscopic light that always made my chest tighten with sothing between awe and belonging.
Liora didn’t wait. The mont we landed, he burst forth like lightning freed from a storm, streaking into the distance with that restless, joyous energy of his. I couldn’t help but smile. His excitent was infectious.
But I stayed still and let Shadow Sophie take it all in. Her eyes moved slowly, tracing the air itself as though tasting its shimr. Then they stopped on the Soul Core, its crystalline trunk now rising in a young, delicate tree form. She watched as ribbons of shadowlight wound up its branches, looping and spiraling before diving back into the glowing heart at its center.
Her gaze wandered next to the furniture and stations I’d brought here. My small, human touches amidst the surreal. She brushed her fingers over the leather of the couch, her expression softening at the texture. Then her eyes lifted again, tracing the statues that lined the edges, and the murals painted across the walls. The snapshots of places I’d captured taken directly from my spellbook, fragnts of worlds and mories stitched together in color and light.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The wonder in her silence said everything.
I broke it first. “That crystal at the center of it all, that’s what remains of your Alexa.”
[There is also ,] Anansi reminded gently. I smiled faintly. She was right, of course, though I knew she was sothing different. An intelligence born of the original, stripped of her raw emotion and rebuilt through logic.
[I am working on that,] she added, a touch of pride coloring her tone. And she was. Every day, she grew more distinct, more alive. I was proud of her for that. But deep down, it wasn’t Anansi who made feel connected to the other . It was the crystal, the quiet pulse of it, the way it stirred sothing wordless and human in .
It’s strange, isn’t it? We always think words are what make us human—speech, reason, intellect—but in truth, it’s the feelings that drive us, the emotions that shape our choices, that make us seen. Talking is just the echo of what the heart already decided.
“May I co closer to it?” Shadow Sophie asked, her voice reverent, almost hesitant. She was already raising her hand, her fingers trembling slightly as if trying to catch the drifting glow inside the crystal.
“Yes,” I said softly. “Go ahead. You can touch it.”
She moved with a sacred caution, each step slow and deliberate, like soone walking through a cathedral of light. And in a way, she was. If there were ever a god in this small, self-made universe, it wasn’t , it was the soul at its heart.
Sophie reached out, her palm finding the smooth, glasslike surface.
The mont she touched it, I felt it too. An echo deep within my own chest. Warmth rushed through , gentle and golden, flooding my veins with sothing that felt like being seen, and being held at the sa ti.
It wasn’t directed at , not really. I knew that now. The warmth wasn’t ant for the version of standing here, but for the one sleeping inside the crystal. The one who had once been Sophie’s Alexa.
“She was beautiful, my Lex,” Sophie said quietly, pulling her hand away from the crystal. “She still is, but she also feels… whole now. Like everything that used to weigh her down has been lifted, taken care of sohow. You know what I an?”
“I think I do,” I said, my voice low. “But I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for .”
“What do you an?”
I looked at the soul core again—radiant, breathing color and light into the air—a living sunrise. Then, with my inner sight, I looked inward, at myself. A darker mirror: sharp edges, cold intent, a creature driven by necessity and thrill. “I need to be cruel sotis,” I said. “Cold. Detached. And that woman, the one shining through that crystal, she makes it harder for . She makes care about people I shouldn’t care about. Strangers. Enemies. People who’d never lift a hand for . That’s a weakness in my world.”
Sophie frowned. “That’s a weakness? Really? The other world must be a dark place.”
“I didn’t an the whole world,” I said quickly. “Just the parts I live in. My corner of it. It’s not all shadows, but it’s no fairy tale either.”
“I see.” She paused, her expression softening. “You really think caring makes you weak? Because my Lex, she is one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.” She hesitated, correcting herself softly. “Was.”
“I understand what you an,” I said, my gaze still on the swirling light. “But for … that kind of strength is a liability. What good is it to care so deeply that you throw yourself into danger for others? Maybe it makes seem brave, even heroic, but inside? It just makes vulnerable. Every person I care for becos a target. A way to hurt . And the more I let myself care, the more leverage the world has to break .”
“I obviously don’t know you,” she began, her voice warm but uncertain, “even though in so ways you’re so familiar it hurts. And I’m not a preacher—never was—but one thing I did learn in my short life is that balance matters. In everything. So… try to find it, and I think you’ll be golden.” She said the last part with a little flourish, raising her voice exactly the way my Sophie would.
A laugh escaped , small but genuine. “Seems like good advice,” I said, studying her closely. “You know, before your girl had any influence over , I don’t think I’d have brought you here. Or maybe I wouldn’t have even wanted to. It’s getting harder to see where the old ends and the new one begins.”
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because you’re not my friend,” I said honestly. “You just look like her. You share a heartbeat with her in ways I can’t begin to understand. But back then, that alone would’ve been reason enough to stay away.”
She smiled, sothing mischievous flickering behind her eyes. “Then I, for one, thank you for your growing weakness.”
I tried to keep a straight face, but a laugh cracked through. It started small, then grew, echoing off the light-filled air until she joined in, her laughter bright and effortless. For a while, it felt like we were both laughing through the sa person’s mouth.
When the quiet finally settled again, she asked, “Is the other happy?”
I thought about that for a long mont. “I think so,” I said. “She was lost for a while. Thought less of herself because of it. Maybe that’s why you changed, why the aging of the face happened. But she’s finding her way now. Slowly.” I tilted my head, eting her eyes. “Are you happy?”
“Today I am,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “And I think I will be tomorrow too, now that I know what’s really behind the curtain.”
“I’ll keep in touch with you, Sophie,” I said softly. “It feels like the least I can do after… taking a friend away from you.”
“She’s still in there,” Sophie replied, pointing toward the soul core, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “Let visit sotis, and that would be enough.”
“I think I can do that,” I said after a mont. “But right now, I want to work on my weapon. You can stay here and spend ti with her or, if you prefer, I can send you ho.” I tried not to dwell on the thought of my doppelgänger, on how her presence inside kept reshaping who I was in ways I didn’t yet understand.
“Could I co with you instead?”
“You want to see?”
“Yes. You’re… fascinating to . My Ali never used weapons. You’re like her—” she paused, grinning, “—evil twin.”
“You hit closer to ho than you think,” I said with a smirk. “Good job. Co along.”
We moved through the open light of my Domain until we reached a quiet, empty stretch. With a flick of my will, a smooth, obsidian podium ford before us. I placed the original Earth-made Noxy on top, its sleek Walther PDP Compact fra looking strangely mundane in this surreal space.
“It’s a pistol?” Sophie asked, curiosity flaring in her tone as I reached deeper within my aura and summoned my Noxy, the dream-forged twin.
The mont it appeared, the air shifted. A faint magnetic hum rippled through the room. The physical gun on the podium began to tremble, sliding ever so slightly toward the summoned one, drawn together like celestial bodies caught in orbit.
“Yeah,” I said, watching the tal vibrate. “From my world.”
“It’s moving,” Sophie murmured, her eyes wide. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Honestly? No idea. This is new territory for ,” I said carefully, grabbing Sophie’s arm and guiding her a few steps back, “I think we should move before they touch.”
She nodded quickly, her gaze never leaving the two guns as they inched closer, the air between them starting to shimr with a low, resonant hum that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
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