R.E.M. - Reality, Existence, Mentality

[Cassette-Disk]

Chase never liked running. It wasn't so much the running part that got her, it was the after effects. Once you finished running you feel absolutely terrible. This made her think that maybe if someone were to run forever, they would never feel the after pain. Of course, that would be an impossibility. She ran through campus, ignoring the pain that burned through her legs and chest, and neglecting whatever pain she knew she would feel once it was all over. She thought it was just her imagination, but Chase felt as though she was running the fastest she's ever run. In what felt like a flash, she was standing in front of a classroom. Russell's classroom, if she wasn't mistaken. There were already others huddling around the door as well--including a teacher whose name escaped Chase at the moment--and under any other circumstances, they would have looked as if they were eagerly waiting for a friend to come out. Looking into the small window most classes in the school have, she just managed to see Crate gravely injured, along with three other students and a man in a suit. Just then the door burst open and Russell was slammed against the wall. Chase let out a gasp, but was paralyzed and let out a small "Holy crap." She watched the scenes unfold in front of her. Russell was dead. The suit was knocked into a crater. Crate was dying, Chris was hysterical, Hua was screaming for her life, and here was Chase. Standing there hopeless with nothing but a scratch on her forehead. She made her way silently skipping past Russell's body and into the classroom. Crate's eyes were closed, he was probably already gone too. She sat down in a desk that had miraculously been kept upright and closed her eyes.

Then she opened them and found herself in her apartment. In her bed, of all places. What the hell was that? She grabbed her phone off the counter and checked the date. It's still the same day as it was when the school was attacked...but now it's morning. She blinked and quickly called her mother. Maybe, just maybe, things would go the exact way they had before. The call went into voice mail. Frustrated, she called her sister instead.
"Augh...hullo?" Came a voice on the other side of the line. Was it really so early that her sister was still asleep? Didn't she have a job to go to or something?
"Annie, can you get a hold of mom? I've got a bad feeling--" Before she could finish her sentence, there came a knock on the other side of the call.
"Hold on, hold on," Annie yawned, "Der's someone at the door." A brief moment passed before Annie returned to her phone, and she was in tears. "ohmygodchasemomgotinacarcrashandshewentintoacomaandandand" Damn it. After a bit of calming down, Chase told her sister that they wouldn't let them visit so early, but that they would do so soon before hanging up.

One disaster down, one to go. Chase steeled herself before walking out of her apartment. She dodged the landlord this time, but just barely. She opened up the library again and took her spot, but was more than a little worrisome. Why did she come back? If her mom had still gotten into a wreck, then the school was most likely going to be attacked again. She got out from behind the desk and waited outside the library for a certain not-dead boy with a certain not-checked-back-in book.

 

[Argenteus]

Crate made his way back to the school, at no greater than normal pace. He thought he might have heard Ms. Chase at the end, and he was deadly hoping that none of those events had been real.

He said hi to a couple students in the hall. None seemed to pay him much mind, he doubted most of them remembered. But most of them didn't feel the time jump either.

Eventually he made his way to the library, grabbing Manifold: Origin on the way, and gradually up to the desk. He hesitated, but he wasn't sure why. He found it hard to speak of the events before.

It confirms that they occurred, makes them real. He thought to himself.

Crate felt himself growing pale, his hands growing shaky. The most he could get out was "D-d-d-do you remember... before?" . His right hand involuntarily moved to his chest, and though he knew no glass shard would adorn it yet, he couldn't help but feel a bit of remembered pain.

With his other hand he shakily removed Manifold: Space from his bag and placed it on the counter with Manifold: Origin. It seemed absurdly normal, familiar, and therefore comforting. He wasn't normally like this.

 

[Cassette-Disk]

Chase sat back down at the front desk. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. Sure, she was right about her mother, but maybe the rest of it was just...metaphorical...stuff. Either way, what good would she be able to do? Maybe she should at least warn the people who were in that classroom. Not that there would be anything to worry about, right? Of course not. Probably not.

Crate stood in front of the desk now, and to Chase's horror, he not only pulled out the familiar book, but mentioned something about "before". Chase slumped in her chair, defeated.
"Space cows." She said weakly. She grabbed the book and checked it out, her face a blank. Pushing it back to the student she sighed. "Yesterday--today, rather--happened, didn't it? It was bad, you were..." she trailed off, refusing to mention his previous fatal state. "Christ, what are we supposed to do?"

 

[Argenteus]

Having it confirmed hurt. He wasn't expecting that.

It wasn't just terror, or dread, his wound burned like a thousand suns.

Suddenly he was back, lying on the ground. His chest was sticky with warm liquid, and all he could smell was fire and blood. The wound burned, and life drained out of him. All was over. He couldn't save Mr. Russel, or Chris, and Hua, who had tried to comfort him, was going to die as well. He was coughing up blood, that metallic taste clinging to his every taste bud.

"It's just a dream!" he heard the shout.

Suddenly he was back in the present. He found he had been shaking, but just getting the words out there, speaking them had given him strength. The pain faded, somewhat. He was able to speak.

"Mr. Russel said it had something to do with Chris. Wait a minute..." he said, thinking, barely managing to keep his head straight.

"I have an idea. If nobody is in the school, the attack can't recur, can it? Mr. Staplin, the junior year science teacher, leaves his keys in the supply closet lock during breakfast. He was once robbed by students while at breakfast, he had to have the keys remade. Now he leaves them..." he said shakily.

"If I move fast, I can take two substances from the supply closet, harmless on their own but which flame up when combined. As lunch is beginning, I'll set a fire. If I just pulled the alarm, we'd come back inside too early, but a real fire should keep us out all day. Mr. Russel is an english teacher, I had him that hour, so I should have plenty of fuel in the form of books." he continued.

"If all that occurred, that means I'm..."

The pain returned.

He was standing. He had to help Chris, somehow. But... this pain, this weakness. He looked down to find a colossal shard of glass driven straight through his chest, piercing his heart. The damage was far beyond repair.

He fell, and the glass was chipped as it was pushed in further, to the edge of his spine. Blood was seeping out, and the pain was unbearable.

And then he was back. He found himself hunched over a bit, pale and sweaty. He was clutching his chest.

"Going to die again." he forced out.

Everything is not normal. Everything is not fine. Please, please let everything be fine. No, it's not fine it's not fine it's not fine. I'm dead, I'm going to die.

Needless to say, he was panicking.

 

[Ðari]

Pleasington had just gone back to how it was before as if nothing unusual had occurred in the slightest. Evan found himself a little more worried than normal, it wasn't like him to break composure like this or even David. If there was really a yesterday to speak of it certainly came at the oddest of times. These were the things he couldn't stop thinking about, if the suits wanted to kill Mr. Russell's brother, then this Chris Russell was worth investigating.

Evan enjoyed the walk, he usually took from about half way between his home and the actual campus. Traffic was demanding, so it made no sense to put Vladimir through the futility of New York's hustle and flow. With his knapsack over his right shoulder, the color of the crosswalk hand triggered a change from red to white. Along with other students heading to Jefferson High, they carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

The teen began to grow even more suspicious, no talk of an explosion, terrorist, nothing. Just gossip about the gym teacher's callous behavior in pushing the students really hard during P.E. That and the upcoming Boston Marathon to be held up north in Massachusetts, Evan had a pen pal named Katie that was participating. When he came back to his senses and stopped looking at the normal students' he'd arrived the same as he did on previous days.

Making short work of the entrance, he was rummaging through his locker and switching his books out for first period. A little spaced out now, all he could think about at the given moment, Mr. Russell's chanting and how he was physically overpowered by that strange suit. He'd ask him later if he was alright if he were still around, he was hurt pretty intensely.

"All this thinking...am I going crazy..? Everything is exactly the same..."

He went to sort his folder, and pulled out the same exact book report he handed in yesterday.

Am I loosing my mind??

Staring at it certainly wouldn't change the fact that it was now in his hands. This was definitely proof that today is a complete repeat of yesterday, but...trying not to dwell on it for the moment he'd see David and Shizuka soon, of that he could be sure.

 

[OmniChaos]

Michael awoke in a cold sweat.

Was it all just a dream? he thought, pulling his soaked shirt from his body. Michael looked down at his side, but found it unscathed, the wound he had suffered from the debris now just a memory of the past—if even that, since it hadn't even happened at this point. He touched the area that the wood had torn through and winced, though there was no pain, just the memory of it. Michael could still see the torn skin, which hung limply from the jagged wood; the crimson blood, which had been flowing down his side; and the white of a jutting bone, protruding sharply from his body, and he nearly grew sick.

Was it truly just a dream? No, it was far too vivid. He had had vivid dreams in the past, but this felt real. It all had. The fear that had held him firmly, of dying and of losing Chris. The anger he had felt for the man who had attacked him; the satisfaction he felt at breaking that bastard's nose. The pain that had surged through his body when he was flung against the piece of wood and it tore through his flesh. The breath as it slipped from his lips. The blackness of death. He had experienced it all and knew they had happened. Or had they?

"Shit," Michael groaned, rubbing his head. He shook it lightly, trying to expel the endless train of thought from his mind. It was giving him a headache. "I need a smoke."

Michael walked into the other room, finding Chris seated at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He was dressed for school, wearing the same clothes he had the day—or, rather, that day—before. Everything seemed to be repeating, as if everything was simply rewound. If that was true, then there should be one of those damned 'Agents' standing outside across the street. However, when he went and looked, he found the opposite street empty. If that agent wasn't there, then was this truly a rewind with the same events destined to be played? Or was it something else?

"In other news today, Dr. Joshua Mathews was found in Central Park with an arm and leg missing. Dr. Mathews, a leader in the field of neurology, was set to operate on a young man who has been in a deep—"

"Hey," Michael mumbled, turning off the television. "We have any bud left?"

"Smoking this early?" Chris cracked, chuckling between bites. He nodded to the chessboard, but a shake of the head from Michael to Chris that his brother wasn't in the mood for chess this morning—a rarity. "Unfortunately, no. We smoked the last of it last night, remember?" Chris paused. "You alright? You look like you've seen your own death."

"You've no idea..." Michael yawned. He pulled the orange juice from the fridge and took a sip, placing it back in shortly after (he got déjà vu). "I'm fine. Just a bad dream. I'll have to buy some more from Belhor after school." Michael glanced at the clock. "You better hurry up or you'll be late. I'll be right after."

As Chris grabbed his stuff and left the apartment, Michael turned back to look outside where the agent had previously stood that day. If he was no longer there—if he had been able to alter the events that had previously unfolded—then perhaps he could too. Perhaps they all could.

 

[Ordeith]

"Did . . . did that just happen?"

"Well, you can say that about anything. Did you just breathe? Did you ever really—"

"Shut up, Brandt. This was an unexpected development, and now we've got to assess it before something else follows."

"Alright, assess away. For now, my job is elsewhere."

"Negative. You need to get back into position immediately. It's been three years since his last hard reset. We don't know how many systems have been affected, or whether we risk running detection. Everything is unstable, and we need every available agent working on it; you know that!"

"Calm down. The way I see it, our position couldn't be better."

"What do you mean by that?"

_____________________________________________________​

Her mother started to speak, then all she could hear was the shrieking of her alarm clock.

Sage blinked. For a moment, she had no notion of where she was. Because . . . This makes no sense. She was in bed—lying on her back, half-covered by a tangle of sheets. She was wearing the same pajamas that she had worn last night, and her hair was a tousled mess. The alarm clock continued to scream, uncaring. It was familiar to the point of foreignness.

"Where...?" The question died in her throat.
She knew exactly where she was; she just couldn't believe it.

Sage could see her parents' front lawn, and the white fence surrounding it. The after-image was still fresh in her mind—the change was so abrupt. She could even see her mother, halfway between the front door and its frame. "God, was I dreaming?"

It made sense, she supposed. Trying to remember the day before, she couldn't even recall the drive to her parents' house. She never heard her GPS, or saw the sign that read "Welcome to Pleasington." Even stranger, she could remember seeing a man on a rooftop—wearing a suit, of all things. Pfft. Didn't even think twice, when I saw it the first time. A quick slap silenced the alarm clock. Yeah, I was dreaming.

She padded barefoot into the bathroom—and did a double-take when she saw the same spider that she'd squashed the morning before. "Heh," she breathed nervously. "A lot of déjà vu this morning..."

_____________________________________________________​

"The suits made a serious misstep. They moved in full force, with all their numbers, using the finest movie-grade explosions. Walls were burning; people were screaming. His Majesty couldn't handle the stress—so, naturally, he performed a hard reset."

"And? That much is obvious."

"Well, if you look on your monitor—or, heaven forbid, look outside—you'll see empty streets. It was a hard reset indeed. They're gone. He's raised mental barriers against them, and they won't be able to break through for a while."

" . . . "

"What's more, they won't dare to. This was their last-ditch effort, and they blew it. If they act in full force again, it won't be until they've better prepared."

"And you knew this would happen? Is that why you held back?"

"That's a bingo."

"You had local police and SWAT—ready at a moment's notice—but you waited. Because you knew it would happen? A hard reset?"

"I did. And if I didn't, does it matter? After the residual effects pass, we'll be more secure than in months."

"Brandt, I hope you're right about that. I'll be running analysis . . . Continue with your assignments, as before."

"'Atta boy. I'll keep in touch, if you need any specifics."

 

[OmniChaos]

While the two men spoke, a third listened in, quietly and intently. In a skyscraper far from Pleasington—you could say it was in New York City, if it helped you sleep at night, but its location was quite moot in a fickle existence such as that, and not limited to the planar concept of reality most everyone was accustomed to—sat a man before a phone, a glass of wine in his hand. He wore a black pinstripe suit, accompanied by a crimson necktie, and held himself in a very high manner.

"Brandt," he spoke, his voice carrying a very smooth, almost elegant, tone to it. "Do not be too certain of yourself. We've underestimated them in the past, with nearly disasterous results, if you would recall. They have proven more resourceful than we had given them credit for, as well as more powerful. I would not put it past them to have—Wait. Jonathan?"

"Yes sir?"

"When the attack occurred, how many of them did your monitor read?"

"Twenty-three."

"And in the hours leading up to the hard reset?"

"Let me see... It looks like the computer only tracked twenty-four of them at most, with varying activity that—wait."

"What is it?"

"I thought it was a glitch at first, but according to this, exactly at 12:01:57, for about only a decisecond, fifty-one suits were present in town! How is this possible?! I thought there were only the twenty-four of them! We never had numbers past that!"

"Well, we do now. This isn't over, boys. In fact, I would wager things are just getting started. They're gone right now, but I would wager they'll be back, and soon. I'd set my watch and warrant on that. Brandt, make sure she is caught up on everything, but do so in private. You know how the dance and show goes. She'll need to be ready when the time comes. Understood?

"Now Jonathan, have you any news on him?"

"None, sir."

"Hmm. Very well. No news is good news, I suppose. We need to keep our eyes peeled in a situation such as this. The suits aren't the only sharks in these waters, and certainly aren't the biggest. We can't leave our backs unguarded to attack when dealing with the guppies.

"That will be all for now. Contact me when you have anything new to report."

 

[Piercing Light]

Shizuka was once again in the passenger side seat of her mother's car, only after once again waking up late at her bedroom desk. She was going through the same day once again, as if what she had went through not even an hour ago hadn't happened. Her mother said the same things to her in her room, and she responded back in much the same way. She felt obligated to, as if something bad would happen had she not. It felt strange knowing what would happen next, there was a constant surrealism, as if she didn't even belong where she was.

"Shizu dear, are you alright?" Her mother asked, Shizuka's melancholy tone finally giving her away. It wasn't hard to tell when something bothersome was on her mind, when a social butterfly suddenly starts acting like a reclusive caterpillar it's hard not to notice. Shizuka turned her head away from the window, looking over to her mother, who diligently kept her eyes on the road while driving. What could she say? Her mother was not as aloof as she was, time travel and people with impossible abilities weren't something she'd take very well. Even still, she didn't want to worry her, and if anyone were fit to confide in, it was her.

"Mom... What do you do when something feels too big for you to handle?" She asked, not quite willing to spill everything yet, but still wanting advice. Her mother giggled, a childish habit that was somehow made distinct by her mature distinction.

"What's the matter, trouble with classes?"

"...Not really."

Her mother shrugged. "Well whatever it is, I'll tell you this. There are a lot of 'big' things out there, big scary things that we feel we can't take on by ourselves. But that's alright, because you don't have to take them on yourself. That's what friends are for, you know that better than anyone else don't you?." She said, looking to her daughter with a slim smile as she pulled in to stop in front of her school.

"I do, thanks mom." Shizuka returned the smile, reminded now why she found friends so important in the first place.

~~~~​

Making her way through the school's halls Shizuka spotted Evan by his locker, walking closer to him she leaned her back against the metal locker beside him.

"Hey Evan..." She started, though she wasn't sure how to put what she had in mind next. "About what happened, you remember it right? What do you think we should do?"

 

[Kazem]

With a note in hand, David went towards the main office, unusually early to school. I"ll probably be an office or library assistant for the period, hopefully there isn't an assembly today either. This headache is killing me. If it wasn't for my perfect attendance so far I'd be home sleeping it off right about now.

He handed the pass to the Sign-In secretary and a look later was assigned to Library assistant for the period. With a few minutes to spare before the first bell rang, David wandered around the school, saying "hi" to a few friends and moving around the clusters of gossiping girls and testosterone-filled jocks. While making his way through the flow of students, David glanced around at the different voices and scuffles, the faint waves flowing out from them, the hall filled with a wall of vibration David could track with his eyes. The whole thing made his headache worse, and he was glad he got a position in the library instead of the office, avoiding a majority of students trying to pass off signatures and phones ringing with the parents of same students.

This is really starting to get weird and very, very annoying. I'll... double check with Evan and triple check with Shizuka, maybe a fourth with some radiation and DNA tests. Maybe go to sleep and everything today is a dream. Or maybe its just my eyes and I have a nasty tear duct infection. There's no possible way that I can just magically see-

"Hey Shizuka, Evan. I have a headache like you wouldn't believe and some weird eye issues, how about you two? Anything unusual happening? Like, oh, I don't know, creepy dreams that make no sense or the feeling something 'big' is going on?"

Please don't be crazy, or else you just bought yourself a one-way ticket to weirdotown, capital of Paranoialand. I already have the buzzing in my ear, maybe a twitch I haven't noticed. I need to just slow down and chill, my mind and head will thank me. Really need to cut down on thinking to myself to, but no one can call me out on that...yet.

 

[Ðari]

Folding his folder over, he stared at it for a few more seconds. There was no denying that this was due today, the date of his grading rubric his teacher had given to him was there as well. He shook his head once again, before closing his locker, to find Shizuka's face, as she stood there back pressed to the locker over.

"Jesus!" he said with some color in his usually very pale face, "Don't sneak up on me like-" he stopped, quickly becoming calm as he could trace the look of worry in her eyes. His face quickly broke from shock, to a firm and alert sense of seriousness. He was prepared to speak, he soon spotted David thumbing along, he seemed to a bit on edge, awry was a better term.


He let out a heavy sigh, David was showing all the signs that he remembered. Evan couldn't help but feel, maybe it was because they were near when it happened, when things whited out on a whim. Thats all he could remember seeing, briefly before that strange static feeling he got, as if he were being scrambled as his blanket that he couldn't turn off, resisted. It confounded him, it confused him, but he knew it was an abnormal feature of his he didn't have a grip on at all.

"David, Shizuka, I found a book report I handed in yesterday...well, today. Today has just been the strangest sense of deja vu all over again...but look at us, notice anything odd?"

Evan paused for a moment.

"The day before, we weren't having this conversation prior to first period, so does that mean we're altering what we did the day before? Its weird to think about it that way, but doing things differently might change what happened to Mr. Russell, his brother Chris, and the other students that were in his classroom during the lunch period. I just have this strange feeling...it might happen again, but I could be wrong."

Everything seemed to be in place, nearly identical from the movement of the faces he remembered yesterday, the only inconsistency in that pattern was them.

"I just became really uncomfortable, but we should hurry on to class, we'll talk to Mr. Russell right as lunch period is about to start. Hopefully he's not hurt and if something happens again, it'll put our suspicions to rest."

Evan gave David and Shizuka a brief wave and nod of confirmation as he hurried off to homeroom, that would lead into first period.

 

[Endless Warrior Sora]

She couldn't have walked faster. Couldn't have shoved more people out of her way. Couldn't have helped but think that it was probably impossible for her frail figure to push anyone out of anything, let alone some of these muscular, hormone fueled teenagers that attended this high school. Hua didn't bother with her usual routine as she never stopped to her locker, or to say hi to anyone. It was straight to Mr. Russell's classroom. She didn't have to go there until 3rd Period. She was there now. Her pace slowing, she found everything intact. As if nothing had even occured yesterday...Or whatever day it was. She stood there in the doorway, studying every inch of the room as if she was some sort of detective. Nothing. Nothing at all....but...how? She remembered what happened to her moments before everything changed. She had....seen things. Seen everything unfold again. That sight....Could she do that again? Were those hallucinations of a delirious girl pleading for her life? Or...were they real? She wanted to know. She felt her hand slip down to the handle of the door to the class room and...it happened again. Her eyes went a hue of yellow as the monochromatic images played themselves in her head.

She could see it all.

Someone had sneezed and used the handle to walk into the classroom. Keys being jammed in there from Bigmouth (the moniker for the school Janitor) locking the door after cleaning it, or walking in and cleaning the room. Mr.Russell walking in himself. Multiple occasions actually. Kids trying to break into the class room only to find the disappointment of a locked door.

Hua relinquished her grip as her eyes shifted back. What...what did she just do?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Devon headed to his sanctuary first. The Library. Maybe if he changed up his routine for the day, those events wouldn't repeat themselves. He spotted a Crate, and his photographic memory served him well as he knew he was involved in the incident. He quietly trailed his classmate, holding up his camera and whispering a small "Hey" to get his attention. As soon as it was given, he would snap the photo, whether Crate liked it or not.

"Before you say anything...I'm trying to document the...events...that transpired yesterday. I know you were involved bro, so...I felt like I should take a picture. If you want it deleted, I understand. Actually you could sue if you don't want that published sooooo I'd kinda have to." He rambled.

 

[Cassette-Disk]

Chase fidgeted a bit. Obviously she couldn't just stand in the library all day while Crate went about trying to stop the events from happening by himself. She quickly took a look around. There weren't many students in the library yet. Even if more came, they probably wouldn't miss having her around.

"I can't just let you go around pulling fire alarms by yourself, now can I?" She told Crate with a smile. Chase opened the back room and called out into it: "Miss Pearl! My mother is in the hospital. I'm going to take the rest of they day off!" She then quickly closed the door before the noisy woman came out to question Chase. "Let's go. If anyone asks, we can say I'm helping you with a project...for Mr. Russell."

Before he could answer, someone else barged into the library. Instantly, Chase recognized the boy with the camera. How couldn't she, not only did he frequent the library but a lot of the clippings hanging on the library's front walls were from his own hand. He mentioned yesterday's events...Or rather, today's events. Chase sighed and rubbed her temples. "You too, huh? Also, no flash photography in the library, please."

 

[Argenteus]

Chase had made him an offer, to leave the school. He knew he had to help Chris, but he had no choice. "Yes... yes that will work." He said, still shaking a bit. "But what about Chris? He was the target of this attack, if we don't stop this he'll die. But Mr. Russel must know about this too. I know he perceived the first time shift, and we can only assume this is related, so he must remember. He's the one most likely to be able to save Chris."

Someone else had joined them. He remembered before too, judging by his comments. Ms. Chase had noticed too, and gave him a half-hearted scold for flash-photography.

"You can keep the picture. But I don't know what your going to do with it. I'm sure you realize very few of us perceived the first time-shift, and I'm almost certain only those who did will have perceived the backstep. But..."

Another stab of pain. He went just a bit paler, and began to have another flashback. But, with effort, he kept himself in the present.

"Don't expect me to recount what happened. I... I-I Can't do that... yet. Maybe getting outside the school will help." He said, stuttering at the end, clearly having trouble speaking.

Would it always be like this? These flashbacks, this pain burned into his chest forever?

He knew he couldn't let it. Something big had gone down, and one of his classmates had sent the entire world back in time. Something was going to go down.

 

[Endless Warrior Sora]

"You too, huh? Also, no flash photography in the library, please."

Devon could identify the voice almost instantly. It was the librarian. He shifted on his heels (albeit he stumbled a bit), and turned to Ms. Connor.

"Me too? You mean...you know about it as well Ms. Connor?" He inquired, instinctively raising the camera to his eye to take a photo of the librarian. One would think he and Chase would be friends by now. Probably good friends. She wasn't that old, and he spent a lot, if not most of his time in the library. Devon guessed he just was socially inept at making friends, even of those that should be the easiest to make.

"You can keep the picture. But I don't know what your going to do with it. I'm sure you realize very few of us perceived the first time-shift, and I'm almost certain only those who did will have perceived the backstep. But..."

He actually hadn't. How did Crate know? Did he know something everybody else didn't. As Crate spoke, Devon adjusted his camera, pushing down the flash mechanism and adjusting the shutter, taking a quick snapshot of Ms. Connor as well, now that she too was apparently involved.

"Don't expect me to recount what happened. I... I-I Can't do that... yet. Maybe getting outside the school will help."

The serious tone in Crate's voice demanded Devon's attention. His eyebrows furrowed into a sense of sadness and pity. He wanted to help. He couldn't look at Crate directly. He held his barrier of a camera to his face and zoomed in to Crate's face (which was probably awkward to both involved), and could see the fear much clearer in his eyes that way. Devon let the camera down and attempted to speak.

"I feel you bro. Look, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm really just trying to make sure everyone who was involved is accounted for and okay. See if the stories add up. Try to figure out what happened, yknow? Were those terrorists? How did we all wind up back here? It's like...nothing happened. I'm just seeing if what I saw makes sense with what everybody else did. I know it was a traumatic experience for you. Just...don't let it bring you down to much, aight?" Devon rambled. At least it felt more like rambling and angsty teenage soap opera talk than actual speaking. He instantly regretted speaking, expecting a remark to make him feel even more stupid, but he couldn't really take anything back in the end.

"Um...it's like...Batman's parents were killed in front of him, but...he didn't let it totally consumed him. He...got better because of it. Became something greater than himself...I guess is what I'm trying to say." Devon continued, pretending to take a picture of something to give a sense of being casual. Really? BATMAN? That was the best he could come up with? He should really just shut up next time. He turned to Chase and grinned.

"Flash isn't on by the way."

 

[Argenteus]

Batman.

This kid was giving him a batman peptalk.

"Well, you successfully helped a bit, if only by giving me a chuckle at that... rather ill conceived peptalk. I can tell you only a bit of what happened, but I have some idea what's going on. Your not going to believe it though." he said, regaining a bit of composure at the ridiculousness of it all.

"The man who broke into the school was here for Chris. The attack existed solely to take him out, the motive for which I don't yet understand. According to his brother Michael, Chris caused both the time-jump and the backstep. None of the rest of the class perceived either, only me and one other person." he continued.

"Mr. Russel died in the attack... And -" he paused and clutched his chest, the pain excruciating. His vision blacked out, a vision began to take hold.

It was his last remembered moment of consciousness, his moment of death. The blood had filled his lungs, and he could no longer breath. The pain was still unbearable, but it was numbing somewhat as his mind was pulled into oblivion. He heard voices, but he couldn't make out a word of it. This was just moments after Chris' exclamation of terror, and this probably just moments before the backstep. Finally, almost with relief, death took him away from the pain, and into silence. Not like being in a silent room, far more still a silence. No feeling of a body, no thoughts, nothing but the bleak void.

At this point he was pulled back, into being, in front of two people. He hadn't physically reacted so much as before, but his eyes had tightly shut and his hands were shaking.

He continued, with pain: "- So did I. I'd assume he's alive again too. I know... from experience."

"There must be something special about us who perceived the jump. We need to talk to others who did, see if anything else is going on."

That was perhaps the most difficult thing he'd ever done in his life. For some reason it had been easier to tell Chase about his death, maybe because they were slightly closer. They weren't exactly close friends, but they met just about every other morning when he went to turn in his book.

 

[OmniChaos]

Chris could see, as he approached the school gates—Liora had, strangely, been absent from their morning ritual—from across the street, a strange man standing at the gates. The raven-haired man who wore a disturbing smile filled the young man with a weird sense of déjà vu that he just couldn't quite place his finger on. It was fuzzy, but Chris was sure he had seen him somewhere before. In fact, when he caught a glimpse of the man's crimson eyes, alit with a primal, bestial fury (though not toward him), he knew he had seen him before. Chris would never forget those eyes.

"Hello?" he asked, approaching the man cautiously. He watched the man carefully as he approached, not allowing his eyes to stray from him. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Asking again, are we? Have you forgotten me so soon?" The man tittered and gave a large, exaggerated bow. "Alas, young Chris Russell, we have indeed met before, as you have contemplated. 'Yesterday' wouldn't quite be the right word for it, seeing as how it was rather a different 'today.' We met in a reality headed for complete destruction."

Chris nodded slightly, trying to avoid eye-contact with the obviously disturbed man. He was probably just some idiot hopped up on some heavy stuff—probably shrooms or something of the like—tripping his ass off really hard. "That's really interesting, sir," he commented, trying his best to stay polite, "and I'm sure if you go see Belhor, he could hook you up with more of whatever you're on. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have to get to class."

"You can try to pass off the events previous as nothing more than a mere dream, aye, that you can, but the fact remains that they very much did happen. Quite. Aye, the men came for you, destroyed the class room, and killed your brother."

Suddenly, like a dam giving way to the raging waves behind it, all the events of Chris's dream came flooding back. He recalled the chess match, his meeting with this man, the attack on his brother's room by the terrorists (or whatever they had been), and then... His eyes drew wide in terror, his bottom lip quivering in fear, as the scene of his brother's demise replayed itself in his mind. Chris saw the man in the suit raise his brother from his feet and as he threw him against the hallway wall; against the wooden spike that ripped through Michael's side.

"Aye, that's right, you remember now, don't you? You remember quite well. Quite quite quite QUITE."

"Wh-who are?"Chris questioned, his voice shaking with fear. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Me? Why, I am but a man. A happy man, a joyful man; a laughing man, a smiling man. I prefer the latter, if you do so fancy." The Smiling Man tittered. "And I already have what I want, I am now simply watching it unfold, like a movie. A B-movie, mayhap, what with all the droll, boring filler you simpletons call 'life,' but a movie nonetheless. " The man's lips twisted upward, turning his smile into an evil, psychotic grin. "Your brother died, and he will die again. Aye, all you will be able to do is watch on as life slips from his lips for the second time, unable to do anything. And it will be all your fault."

Chris let loose a horrible cry.

~*~​

Michael had called in sick—he certainly felt it, his hands still shaking slightly at the thought of having been impaled—and was now in the back alley notoriously known as Belhor's squatting-grounds. He waited by the corner while the drug dealer finished with another customer. It was a lady with a red dress on, her long, brunette hair hanging elegantly over her shoulders. She reached into a small purse and handed a small object to the dealer, followed by a slight nod.

The woman passed by Michael as she left, completely unconcerned that someone had seen her in contact with the dealer. Everyone made deals with Belhor, regardless of how 'pure' or 'noble' they claimed to be. It wasn't always about drugs, but everyone had a certain something they wanted and a price they were willing to pay, and Belhor had an unrivaled knack at acquiring things. Everyone knew this, and no one judged each other over it.

When she passed, Michael caught her face and realized her to be Cynthia Morgan, Mayor Robert Morgan's wife. Her husband was up for reelection in a few weeks, and the community mayoral polls did not side in his favor. The mayor's track record had been less than stellar, having been charged with four counts of racketeering—one of which was from an undercover officer—and two counts of moneylaundering. However, the charges were soon after dropped, due to all evidence mysteriously disappearing, and all the details were quickly swept under the rug. It was no doubt thanks to Belhor that the man remained free. The fact that his wife was here must have meant that she had made a deal with Belhor to assure Robert's reelection.

Michael approached the man with a casual calm. While most people were uneasy and tense around Belhor, Michael had been going to him for pot since he and Chris arrived in Pleasington, and thought of the man as nothing more than a friend. He was certainly eccentric, especially with some of his demands, of that Michael could not deny, but he still enjoyed the man and all his quirks.

"Good morning, Belhor," Michael said in a half-hearted chipper tone. Though he tried, Michael couldn't hide the burden on his mind, and he was sure Belhor picked up on it right away. "It's a little early, but I desperately need some bud. I've... been having a bit of a rough day. I need some time to unwind, so I called in sick today and just need to smoke the stress away." Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white bag, tossing it to the man. "It is still the usual, as per our original agreement, yes?"

Michael took the bag Belhor handed to him. It contained an assortment of little bags which were mostly dimebags of schwag, but also had a couple nicklebags of good-quality dank mixed in. Again, as per their original agreement years ago. Michael gave a slight smile toward the man and placed the bag into his pocket.

"Also, my friend, I need all the information you can gather on this." Michael reached into his pocket and withdrew a photo of one of the suits standing on a rooftop and handed it to Belhor. "Chris and I were attacked by one of these men yesterday or today or—well, it's complicated. Anyway, he was after Chris and was intent on killing him. The guy was very strong, far moreso than a typical human being, and easily overpowered me.

"I don't care what price you ask for in exchange, I just need it done. My brother's safety is all I am concerned about."

A piercing cry sounded from the school and a force shot across Pleasington like a shockwave. The sky turned a blood-red and black rain began falling from the sky. The ground shook violently and a loud eruption sounded from several large spires broke through the ground and shot upward, rising hundreds of feet over the small town. A golden light spiraled around each spire, a small bulb of energy that flashed at regular intervals traveling along them. Chunks of earth tore loose from the ground and floated up into the sky, stopping roughly halfway up the spires.

"What the fu—"

Another piercing cry cut Michael's words short as another wave of some strange force shot out across Pleasington. Everything began to slow until it stopped completely, the rain now hovering in midair. The sounds of daily activity—the humming of car engines, the chirping of birds, even the soft chattering of human interaction—all stopped. It was almost as if someone had pressed the pause button on all of Pleasington, and only those who had special abilities, like himself and Belhor, were left uneffected.

"I have to go!" Michael yelled, turning back to the alley exit. "Please look into those men for me!"

And with that, Michael was gone.

 

[Kazem]

David nodded as Evan gave out the game plan for lunch, gave a wave to Shizuka, and went on his way to the library to start his period of work. After the quick chat, David felt a bit better, the buzzing in his ears lessened and the transparencies were faded heavily. He made his way through the crowds and imagined doing the same on some in-lines, a little hobby of his. The pleasant and non-hyperactive thought was rudely interrupted by a scream.

And David's eyes widened to being bigger than a normal person's, a feat worth bragging about. He watched the force's wave roll across the town, thick and being felt with almost every fiber of his being. David's eyes turned towards the sky, which was like something had ripped the delicate blue flesh there before and now the wound was torn open, the rain adding to this sight. The ground made everything it touched blurry to David as innumerable waves distorted the area, the towering spires and red sky the only things David could see clearly.

A crack behind David let him observe how a student and the earth around him was plucked up by some unseen force and brought up towards the bleeding sky. Whether the boy was desperate or lost his balance, David wasn't sure, but he fell down from his new perch. He slowed as he fell until he was in sight of the wide-eyed boy watching below. Another scream pierced David's ears, a distortion floating over his head and around him. David watched as the student stopped falling, a expression of pure terror upon the boy's face, a second or two from making a mess on top of the school.

The rain stopped with him, its black drops staining the ground no more.

This is insane...there's no way. Time travel, fine. A reset button for life, that's actually kinda cool. But this? A self-destruct for all reason whatsoever? That's too much. David wondered why he could move, how he could see these things, and why he suddenly had such a wild fluctuation of panic and peace. Hands clutched, eyes closed, and his mind sealed as best as he could, trying to peace everything together. His heartbeat flowed through him, his lungs felt, tiny twitches and grinding and snaps heard, his hearing impeccable in the dead silence of the world.

He heard a voice, maybe many. His eyes opened and he looked around, his own body fading away into a normal volume. David traced the distortion from the voice/s as it glided over to and past him, and turned towards its source. A shaky sigh and clenched hands gave him enough resolve to take a step forward. More distortions, telling him that he wasn't alone, flied through the air, the noise once carried on them too weak to perceive by his ears now. This got David a few more steps before he stopped. All heroism, all sense of reason and reality, all understanding was gone.

What was left was confusion.

The hunger grew. He wanted to rid himself of the feeling. What-killed-the-cat grew inside, a solution and cure for the mental unrest that spread throughout David's body. It reached down to his legs, his thighs tensed. As it touched upon his knees, they almost buckled beneath him as they loosened. The feet had a single moment of a stalemate, as emotion and reason clashed against each other, fighting desperately for a hold the other had. But it was a simple victory for the primordial want of wonder. David ran, rushing towards what could be the end of his existence, eyes wide for anymore signs of something with what he wanted. Salvation from this state of solitude, a gift of some sort of understanding, or something to shock him into a new state of mind. He wanted change.

One he knew he could never reverse.

 

[Endless Warrior Sora]

"Well, you successfully helped a bit, if only by giving me a chuckle at that... rather ill conceived peptalk. I can tell you only a bit of what happened, but I have some idea what's going on. Your not going to believe it though."

Devon raised an eyebrow. He had soon realized that Crate might not have known that Devon saw everything. He was right outside the classroom during the event, and even saw his classmate's grisly demise.

"I read Batman and Blue Beetle comics. At this rate, I think I'll believe anything." Devon smirked, fiddling with the lens of his camera again.

"The man who broke into the school was here for Chris. The attack existed solely to take him out, the motive for which I don't yet understand. According to his brother Michael, Chris caused both the time-jump and the backstep. None of the rest of the class perceived either, only me and one other person. Mr. Russel died in the attack... And - So did I. I'd assume he's alive again too. I know... from experience.There must be something special about us who perceived the jump. We need to talk to others who did, see if anything else is going on."

He remembered. He watched Michael die in front of him. Saw him burst from the room entrance to be impaled on the wood. He shuddered at the thought. But obviously if Crate was alive, than so was he. And...Chris was the cause? Chris had the power to turn back time? And apparently undo time as well.

This was starting to sound like one of Devon's comic books. And he smiled at the thought. A comic book! And he was in it! Anyway, back to reality.

"I agree. You said that none of the class percieved the time jump except you and another student. Do you know who that other person is?" Devon inquired. Maybe they could get some answers from that person. "Maybe we can find them a-" He stopped talking as a group of students, possibly friends began to file into the Library, more tha likely to either play a card game they should've stopped playing when they were twelve, or to goof off on the internet until class started. However, as soon as one (who Devon distinctly remembered as Blake Harley, a soccer player at the school) opened the door the group began to slow down to a complete halt.

A large cry could be heard from a distance and the ground began to rumble. A shadow had been cast over the Library as all the light from the windows took on a crimson hue. Devon raised his eyebrow at the students before trying to just keep his balance as the rumbling grew ever more violent. Flashes of light buzzed past the windows on the second floor (where the Library was located [i hope] ).

"Earthquake! Or...something!" Devon shouted, as he staggered, trying to keep his balance as he headed for the windows to see just what was going on. "Guys! Guysguysguysguys, yall should see this!"

Black rain had begun falling and students who were filing in to the front gates of the school just....stopped. Everything just stopped. So why could he move?

"I swear this place gets more weird everyday."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What was that that she had just done? Could she...see history? Hua started to walk away from the room feeling less than accomplished. The rumbling of the floor had started then. Was that an earthquake? She needed to get somewhere safe then! She practically ran back to the classroom to seek sanctuary in the doorway. A spire of light erupted in front of her, pulling a yelp from her esouphagus as she fell backward in the sheer shock of it. It seemed as if the doorway wasn't the safest place to be after all. Crawling to her feet, she ran in the hallway,seeing the spires of light begin to seep through the ground and getting out of their way before they erupt. Why did she always feel as if her life was in danger whenever she stepped into this school? Turning the corner, her eyes split wide in confusion. Every student in Jefferson High seemed to have simply stopped moving. Just what was going on? It was raining black rain outside and the sky was red. This was definitely bad. Chunks of earth began to rise into the air. Just where was she supposed to go?

 

[Ðari]

Yesterday the only thing that was odd was the strange phone he'd received that morning.

________________

"Office of Justin Black Private Investigator, what is the nature of your call."

"We need you to take care of someone."

"Whats the password?"

"Capital Punishment."

"Oh, so you know of my services, where do you want to meet? I take 400 up front, and 400 after handing you the victim's head."

"We have a much more long term request of you Mr. Black. We need you to thoroughly inspect a student at Jefferson High. For now to keep an eye on him."

"How do you plan to pay me in even getting started?"

"Outside of your office is one of our associates, there is a brief case he's carrying holding ten-thousand up front for you investigation. Further information and a brief image of the person you'll be following day and night, but be sure to elude suspicion yourself. Enjoy your morning."

The nameless stranger had hung up. Immediately following this was a knock at Justin's door, planting his feet on the desk he addressed the expected visitor to come on. As promise, he carried a briefcase and bore an attire of gray, with a red tie. His top hat was something out of Casanova the vintage film. Inspecting the contents, there was a picture dead center on the opening of he case. A name next to it, Chris Russell.

"Fine by me, I'll be invisible." Justin said, inhaling a drag from his cigarette as the associate of his client exited his office. Releasing the smoke into the air, he took his opened the side drawer on his desk and revealed a straight edge razor that was sheathed. Flicking the blade outward, he was examining how sharp the edge was almost obsessively.

It was later that day, that Justin had doing volunteer work as a Janitor that day. He caught a glimpse of Chris for the first time a simple pass in the hallway as he was lugging around the mop bucket and a caution sign with all additional equipment locked in a nearby utility closet. His profession was always to give a simple wave and he did this to all the students. By about the lunch bell, there was a swift "explosion" that erupted not long after. Justin was mopping the bathroom floor, in the hallway right across from one of the teacher's rooms. As he peeked out, he could see the hole in the wall, the teacher and students inside, as well as the other teens scurrying down the hallway while others were flushing the hallway in a panic. More faces, but they didn't act to normal "fire alarm" procedure and evacuate, which alarmed him momentarily.

When a body came flying out of the classroom, it was the teachers. In minutes, as he uttered his last breath to tend to his brother, there was only a flash of light. Justin witnessed it, and strangely enough, he sat in his office for a second time.

Only...there was no phone call, but the briefcase was still there, leading him to believe that part of his morning had already happened.

________________


He'd returned to his post without any major delay, and glided the moving mop bucket to the nearest utility closet.

"Deja Vu..."