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As he focused his mind, Hector could feel something different. Something he’d never felt from meditating before. Slowly, hesitantly, he concentrated harder, allowing his thoughts to be consumed by this world of empty space.

In a way, it was absolutely terrifying. Floating. Forever. Nothing to hold onto. No destination. Neverending darkness. And the more time he spent focusing, the more of it he could sense. A vast ocean of nothingness. This was a pocket dimension? Wasn’t it supposed to be tiny? It felt gigantic beyond reckoning. Or was his mind simply playing tricks on him? Maybe this one remaining sense of his was wrong, somehow. It wasn’t like his normal senses were infallible, either.

If it weren’t for those three other souls there, Hector was sure he would have begun panicking a long time ago. They were his only anchors, the only things keeping him from being completely overcome by this unfathomable place.

Yet still, he lost time. And he could sense himself losing it, too. The strange, disjointed progression of his own nebulous thoughts was how he could tell. Sluggish, fast, sluggish again, then even slower. On and on in varying patterns and speeds.

At length, however, he sensed something else. A glimmer. A crack. In the distance. So far away. Farther than normal sight could have told him, surely.

Then, another one. Another crack. This time in the opposite direction and just as far away.

Then another. And another. And still another. Then five more. Then ten. Dozens. Hundreds? All cracks but all different, too. Each one rippled, pulsed, echoed. Thousands. Maybe even millions. Far too many to count, at least. And they were everywhere around him. Closer than seemed possible. On top of him. Phasing through him.

Where had they come from? Had they been there the whole time? Something told him they had, something in his one sense. Like he’d been looking through a window this whole time without realizing there was glass there. But now he could see the glass. Now he could tell.

This wasn’t emptiness. This wasn’t just space.

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‘So you guys don’t even have a theory?’ Hector asked.

‘Not really,’ said Chergoa. ‘Why? Are you saying that you two whelps do?’

‘Oh, uh, no,’ said Hector. ‘Or at least, I don’t.’

‘We were only teasing you about forgetting to explain something,’ said Emiliana. ‘We didn’t think there WASN’T an explanation.’

‘Hmm,’ said Garovel. ‘Well, anyway, it looks like we’re going to be here a while. We should try to keep ourselves entertained. How have you been, baby sister?’

‘Oh, I’ve been good. Apart from the whole almost-dying-thing, today’s been lovely.’

‘Mm. And Emiliana, how are you?’

‘Ah... confused.’

‘Wonderful. Anyone up for a game? I’m thinking of a number between one and six hundred billion. Take your time answering. No rush.’


Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Five: ‘Diligent souls, abide...’
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Ultimately, the conversation kept going back and forth between serious contemplation of their circumstances and fanciful distraction when no great revelations were uncovered.

At length, even Garovel and Chergoa began struggling to keep talking. Hector had kind of stopped listening a while ago, and without anything to pay attention to, time began to blur into itself. Strangely, it was the realization that no one was talking anymore that brought him back around. Somehow, the silence had become odd.

‘I guess I’ll just meditate,’ he threw out there.

And it took a second, but then Emiliana said, ‘Good idea. I will, too.’

‘Alright,’ said Garovel.

‘We’ll try not to leave without you,’ said Chergoa.

Hector tried to focus. Instinctively, he wanted to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t have any. It hadn’t occurred to him how much of a role his own body played in meditating before. This was different. And not altogether comfortable, either. It was almost too easy. He felt like he might lose himself here, like he was falling asleep on the edge of a cliff.

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‘Okay, okay,’ said Hector. ‘I understand everything else you said, more or less. Pocket dimension or whatever. No bodies here, no matter. Only our minds. Right?’

‘Yeah?’ said Garovel.

‘And uh, I get that we can hear your guys’ thoughts. You’re reapers. You can, er, communicate with souls directly or whatever. That makes sense.’

‘Uh-huh?’ said Chergoa.

‘But then... why can Emiliana and I hear each other?’

‘Oh, well, that’s...’ And Garovel just stopped.

Hector waited, but the reaper didn’t finish. ‘...Garovel?’

‘Uh... hmm.’ Garovel paused another time. ‘Actually, that’s a really good question.’

Chergoa had to chime in now. ‘Er... yeah. Huh. You two shouldn’t be able to hear each other. Your souls aren’t bound together. You should both be able to hear me and Garovel, but you definitely shouldn’t be able to hear one another. That’s... really weird.’ And she waited a second before giving them another, ‘Huh.’

‘I can’t tell if they really don’t know,’ said Hector, ‘or if they’re just messing with us again.’

‘I think they are being serious,’ said Emiliana. ‘They would not purposely make themselves look ignorant.’

‘Ah, you’re probably right.’

‘Hmm,’ said Garovel. ‘I don’t like how well these two are getting along all of a sudden.’

‘Me neither,’ said Chergoa. ‘It was a mistake to allow our servants to mingle. We should release them and start over.’

‘Good idea.’

‘So basically,’ said Hector, ‘you two have no idea what’s happening here at all.’

‘Agh, it must be the shards,’ said Garovel.

‘You’re just gonna blame everything on the shards, aren’t you?’ said Hector.

‘It’s the only explanation, really. Stupid soul-catalyst bullcrap. I wonder if even Qorvass understands how they work. I bet he just pretends like he does.’

‘Because that’s what you would do?’ said Hector.

‘Hell yeah. Bullshitting is a very valuable skill, my friend.’