AHHH PENCILS CAN KILL YOU! Fyi I stabbed my hand with one. If you look closely at my palm you'll still see a weird black dot under the skin...

ANYHOW!

I guess the solution is to have 4 teams of two people, one team go into each tunnel then report back. That's eight people, so have the ninth one stay back at the center to keep track of what's going on. 

Obviously, don't pair HAB with Kestrel.  

Scylla--The point was that you couldn’t tell who would lie or not. So your answer was half-right. But, hey, you helped keeping most everyone alive, so yay.

Sydney--Congratulations! You have answered the riddle successfully! *cue confetti and fireworks*

Turns out, the majority of people did not completely answer it correctly, so the Almighty Author determines that someone should die.

Day Twenty Two

(Part the fourth)

Paris takes a deep breath. “Alrighty. I need some paper and a pencil to save your lives.”

There is a frantic scrabbling for paper and pencil, the best they could come up with was Nova’s evil plans to conquer the world--written on notepaper in purple ink, one of Kestrel-the-kestrel’s feathers, and some radioactive goo.

They gather in a circle on the floor, Paris bending over the paper. Between the lines of purple ink, she sketches the Library and the tunnels. The Library starts rumbling, roaring beneath them as if there is a monster trapped there. Paris stops for a moment, staring at the paper. She makes nine dots on the paper.

One dot in one tunnel--she explained that that was Nova, two dots to one tunnel and three dots to two tunnels. “We go in groups.” She explains hurriedly. “Except for Nova. Everyone, go there as fast as you possibly can and report back. We have to wait until everyone has come back to escape together. Alright?” Everyone nods. Kestrel and Kestrel-the-kestrel take one tunnel, Nova one, Jarvis, H.A.B., and Mrs. Elton to one, and finally Paris, Moon and Brian to another.

Moon quietly skips down the tunnel, her footsteps echoing into the distance on and on, as Paris and Brian partly jog, a uneasy sense of the need to hurry felt only by Paris.

“One, two, three and, one, one, one, and one two three.” Moon quietly whispers to herself, focusing on her feet. Paris glances back from Brian to Moon. Neither seem to be the slightest bit disturbed or upset. Heck, they don’t even seem to care about what is going on.

“So….um...you’re me?” Kestrel asks Kestrel-the-kestrel, hesitantly. Kestrel-the-kestrel is perched on Kestrel’s shoulder. She screeches. Kestrel is unable to tell whether or not that confirms her statement. “Yeah...so how does this actually work? We are the same person….how are you here?” Kestrel-the-kestrel is unable to answer. Kestrel sighs. “Like are you from the future or a different universe? Or some other--” She waves her hands vaguely. Kestrel screeches again. Both of them are equally confused.

“I mean….you do have to know who you are? No--this isn't going anywhere.”

She closes her eyes for a second. “Okay. l'm having an identity crisis. Some help here?”

“Maybe….quit…...running so fast?” Mrs. Elton pants at her two companions. Neither of them pay any attention to her.  Mainly because memories of a collapsed Library is going through H.A.B.’s mind and various European desserts through Jarvis’s, that she will only likely be able to eat if she gets out of here. A sudden tremor makes all three of them trip, falling painfully and symmetrically on their faces. Mrs. Elton is the first to get up, before another  tremor knocks her right back down.

“We need to--oumph--” Jarvis ends with a sound that is unable to be translated into words.

“Hurry.” H.A.B. finishes for her.

Nova whistles to herself. Her programming dictates that she takes this mission seriously, to be solely focused on her objective: get the end and report back as fast as robotically possible. That was her sole purpose. However Nova’s programming is also a learning program, making her learn to act like a human. Part of being human was never taking anything seriously. So--rather conflicted--part of her sensing this like a joke--and the other part being everything-above-and-below-bent on her mission. Sometimes being a robot was quite simple. Others, like this, was pretty much very confusing.

REDIRECT TO MISSION

Ahaha, what if they actually die--

REDIRECT

What if--

MISSION IMPERATIVE. REDIRECT

But--

MISSION: SAVE. REDIRECT.

Fine.

She begins running, the joints and motors whirring as she gains speed.

MISSION: REDIRECT SUCCESS. STAND BY.

The smooth, gray stone walls start flashing past faster, inhumanly fast. The sounds of her feet skimming the stone echos into her senors, until seemingly, her feet do not touch the ground. For once, the learning program agrees with the mission program. Suddenly, a thousands alarms go off, her programming puts an abrupt halt to her motion.

MISSION; REPORT

However, it is too late, as she slams full-speed into a rock wall.

DAMAGE HAS BEEN SUSTAINED. DAMAGE TO FACIAL AREAS AND UPPER LIMBS. NO MAJOR FUNCTIONS IMPEDED. MISSION TO CONTINUE.

She had--in a very human way--put out her hands to break her impact. It hadn’t helped. The sensors on one hand were still connected, so she reaches up and touches her face.

She feels no face.

Torn metal, peeling away like skin, sparking wires, gears and motors for facial expressions now exposed, false hair sticking up from her scalp. She thought nothing of it. She could not feel pain, the damage was not major.

She would go.

MISSION REDIRECT. MISSION: GO FOR LAUNCH.

Her scans pick up an unstable area around her, she knows it will collapse soon. She must go  faster. Faster. So much more faster.

AFFIRMATIVE.

She reaches the Library at last. She quickly sees that there are cracks spanning the entire floor, getting wider and wider.

HUMAN; ASSIST.

Jarvis and Mrs. Elton are at a fairly stable part of the room, in full view of the four tunnels.

As she approaches, both of their eyes go wide. Mrs. Elton lets out an involuntary speaks.

Nova tries to ask them something, but her vocal box is too damaged.

“W-what are you?” Jarvis stammers, backing away.

PERCEIVED THREAT. PLACATE HUMANS.

Oh yeah, that’s easy. Nova grumbles. She holds out her hand. Both of them eye it, but don’t come closer.

A short time later, Kestrel and Kestrel-the-kestrel rocket out of the far tunnel, Kestrel-the-kestrel flapping her wings madly.  Paris, Moon, Brian, and H.A.B. join them shortly. They all eye Nova.

DO NOT COMPREHEND HOSTILITY.

Affirmative.

She decides that it is wise to keep her distance. Threatened humans are very dangerous.

The cracks widen, far enough that someone could fall down in them. Her legs automatically balance themselves to the slope of the ground, but she sees that the others cannot.

ASSIST HUMANS

Negative.

“We found the exit!” Moon announces. Paris does a quick head count. “Where’s Nova?”

Nova frowns, waving a hand. They seem to have completely forgotten about her. They don’t see her. She did know that the Library made people see things but--was it really this strong?

AFFIRMATIVE.

No one answers Paris’s question. There are a few tense seconds.

“We can’t wait for her.” H.A.B. says, glancing at the tunnels. “l am sorry, but we just don’t have enough time.” Reluctantly, sadly, the other members of the party nods their heads. They start off towards the exit tunnels, stumbling as the ground shakes more and more. Nova runs quickly after them, but still keeping a distance.

“Hurry up!” Brian calls to Mrs. Elton, scrambling over the rubble. The grounds shakes violently, throwing Mts. Elton onto a huge chunk of rock that is slowly shifting away from the tunnel.

MISSION: PROTECT

Affirmative.

Nova jumps to the rock Mrs. Elton is standing on. She grabs her by the arm, her legs adjusting to attach themselves to the rock. Mrs. Elton screams when she sees Nova.

“A--a--Monsters!”

Anyone, even a robot, does not like being called them. Especially after having half of their face torn off.

Mrs. Elton starts struggling in Nova’s strong as iron grip, trying to get away. The rock shifts, turning horizontal. Mrs.Elton’s weight is making Nova start to slip.

“Let GO of me! “

SAVE. SAVE THE HUMAN.

Save, save….

Mrs. Elton manages to lose Nova's grip. She rapidly starts sliding down the face of the rock. Nova dives after her, before she falls into the darkness below. Mrs. Elton grabs onto the edge, dangling before the darkness.

There is something on her face that Nova has never seen before.

Pure terror.

“I don’t want to die.” Mrs. Elton repeats, as her fingers starts slipping on the edge. Nova stands there, stiffly. Her rational mind knows she can’t save her, the angle of the rock is now too steep to be able to carry Mrs. Elton’s weight up to the tunnel.

SAVE THE HUMAN.

No. l'm sorry.

I can’t save them all.

I can’t save anyone, really.

And now l don’t know how the see me.

And she watches as Mrs. Elton falls into the darkness, the last faces she sees is the one she fears.

SAVE THEM.

I don’t understand. They hate me now.

PERSONAL OPTION OF TARGETS DOES NOT AFFECT MISSION.

It matters to me.

SAVE THEM. SAVE THEM ALL.

I--l just can’t. It’s-l've seen so many die that l don’t know if l can. I've seen them all die--don't you realize--in a different timeline. I don’t know if l have the will to save them.

NEGATIVE.

SAVE THEM.

SAVE THEM ALL.

~~

They run.

They do not know for how long.

But they run.

Until all of the fear in them has drained away and all they feel is dead inside.

H.A.B. and Kestrel-the-kestrel had to bid their farewells, promising, to a) never save them again, and b) explains their presence when they meet again.

The familiar tunnel opens up before them, this one with a door.

It is opened.

Moon and Brian, as they cross the threshold, suddenly freeze. And then, in unison, they tilt their heads. Their eyes starts to glow  a pale blue.

“We are the Voices. And we were so lonely, so lonely, lonely…..it was dark there, so dark, dark,....because whatever enters the Library will  return to the Library.”

~~~~~~

End of Day Twenty Two. Rest in peace, Mrs. Elton. And do recall that there is still a group trapped in the Library. Mwhahaha.  Also--Moon, you should be proud to know that l actually know how to dance the Scottish Reel now. So ha.

Oh good for you! Irish dance is the best. (Down, up, back 2 3 4 XD)

Also, I'M POSSESSED!!!! HOW AWESOME IS THAT?????? 

Luna says "vndg". Ven diagram? Hey, I was just doing one of those! What a coincidence! 

*ah, the power of suggestion* 

Day Twenty Three

(Note: This day is not a continuation of the last day nor carries on any of the affects of the last day, with the exception of the characters of Saphira and Nova.  This isn’t actually part of the main storyline, however it is still important. Confused yet? I know l am.)

The library is silent. Is that frightening? Saphira thinks not. Silence is  strange thing. But not frightening.

Ah, but alas, she is is heartily mistaken.

Fear me.

Fear the silence.

Fear what you do not know.

Because it is coming for you in the night.

And it will not relent.

Ellak cocks his head, in this strange silence. He feels strangely alone

It is coming for him. For the dragon with a heart of gears.

Mirax is oblivious. Her world consists of cinnamon. Good job, Mirax. Cinnamon is a good choice to live in. She is far better off than the rest of them.

Richard can hears the voices.

Could hear, actually.

So quiet.

Sandra and Daisy are two innocent souls lost in a house of mirrors. Two lost souls. I feel quite sorry for them, really. They never asked for this. Never wanted to be here, never wanted to get wrapped up in all of those. They never wanted to play hero. They never wanted to die.

Saphira feels the silence, but too late. She tries to scream--to breath.

To live.

Her voice has died.

Welcome the silence.

But no, she fights it, like a raging beast. Clawing at it inside of her, twisting, roaring.

The Library does not like this.

For unknowing to your brave adventures, some time during the night, they had wandered from the old Library of Voices to the Library of Silence.

There is nothing here. There is no one here to hear you when you scream.

Farewell, Saphira. This is not a place for those of fiery hearts.

Leave the silence in its death.

She is rather forcefully and painfully removed from the scene, pushed away by an invisible force, blood rushing her ears.

For a moment, there is nothing. And then light, light so much light. And glorious sound. Carefully, she stands up.

And opens her eyes to this beautiful, bright and fiery world, to the  alive people that inhabit this place.

Blink.

Well then.

Cut the “alive” part.

Actually, cut it all.

The dragon is faced by a smouldering, desolate mess. The hotel appears to have nearly completely burned down, smoke and dust clogging the air.

And--well--there are bodies.

A lot of bodies, to be honest. Dead, too. Fortunately, all of them are too charred to figure out who they are. Which while being pleasant, provides a problem for Saphira. She has no idea who is alive any more. Or--frankly, why any of this happened. It looks like  a warzone.

~Some Hours Previously~

The door swings open, pushed gently by fingers. Those fingers expected to find all sort of things, monsters, nightmares, demons. Anything really. But they didn’t know that the only demons are the ones inside our heads.

They are faced with their self. They stare at each other. And then the reflection reached out and stabs them.

Something from the original's hand clatters to the floor.

A simple, large iron key.

With the word Underwood inscribed on it.

Her name was Paris.

She dies.

~~

What would be, in your option, the worst enemy to face? It could be many, many things, but arguably….

Your worst enemy is yourself.

Which makes is awfully dang hard to kill yourself when you need to.

Or --rather, a copy of yourself. Something that looks like you and acts exactly like you….but somehow isn’t you.

Jarvis's double blinks back at her, with her own eyes, wide, pleading. The real Jarvis’s hand shakes, gripping a knife.

“I’m sorry.” The double says, and Jarvis can’t remembering feeling so much hate is in her life. How dare this creature--whatever it was--steal her face, and very well her life! “But--l can’t help it. They keep trying to fix me, they always do. And they will never leave me alone. I can’t help it--”

Unnerved, the knife clatters to the ground.

Jarvis didn't know where they came from. After emerging from the Library of Voices, mostly alive, she and the others had celebrated, and then decided to go on a hunt for the Teller, which failed. They had thus wandered off, and then, hours later, Nova had breathlessly rushed up to her, frantically informing her of some “double” or other, now loose in the hotel and bent on murdering their original selves.

Jarvis, understandably, was confused. However, unlike most things, no one explained to her in the slightest what was going on. And now she has found her double. Nova had, for one, told her that the double would try to kill her no matter what. Even knowing that, she cannot look at her double with the intentions…..of kill or be killed.

Her double bends down, to examine the knife. Then she picks it up, fingering it softly, curiously, as if not knowing what it could do. Jarvis backs away a few steps.

“What are you talking about?” Maybe she could stall this thing, get it to talk until she could run away.

“No--they don't know, they never will know.” the double murmurs. “I try to tell them but l can’t help it, no no…” Her hypnotic voice distracts Jarvis. Until, quite surprised, she sees that a knife has appeared in her chest. She blinks at it. Her double starts melting away, slowly, into mist. “They never will understand…..”

Kestrel shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t want to….kill you.” She says hesitantly. The double blinks back at her. “Maybe there’s a loophole? You know, the Library of Voices did promise to give me whatever l most desired...and it hasn’t happened yet.” She didn’t know if this would work honestly. When--exactly, had anything that she had been promised been magically granted? Like never. She wouldn’t be counting on this--even if whatever she desired was a game changer. Her double halts in backing her against a wall, tilting her head.

And then--

Poof.

So- light--so feathery.

Kestrel is a kestrel. Her double is still there, partly grinning, not saying anything.

Nova’s double…..isn’t a double.

Her face plate is completely gone, one arms partly well--simple not there at all, the other ripped down the middle and hanging at her side.

She also isn’t acting like the other doubles, not trying to threaten Nova.

She kneels down in the dirt, painfully, slowly, tracing:

I am a watcher.

I am your past.

The one you never lived.

H.A.B.’s double has backed him against the wall, leering, threatening, also knife wielding. (Doubles seem to just have come built with knives.)

He has no doubts about how quickly his double is going to reduce him to mincemeat.

Threatened by the, doubtless anyone would do something drastic.

Tackle-a-knife-wielding-copy-of-yourself-and-try-to-choke-them-because-you-want-to-keep-all-of-yourself-intact-and-then-basically-murder-yourself-to-save-yourself-drastic.

It figures.

~Present~

Saphira weaves around Moon and Brian, both very dead, both laying directly in the path of where she wants to go, as so she has to stare at their glassy eyes as she goes past.

There is a slight horror working up in her, growing fast.

Are they all dead?

Am l the last one?

Part of her doesn’t want to know the answer. She halts, struck by a sudden thought.

Moon and Brian should be set to rest probably.

To rest in fire. And if anyone else survives, they should surely see the fire.

Surely they will come.

~~

Nova’s double folds her legs, as she sits down, her single intact eye rolling wildly around, taking everything around. At least they think she’s a double. Little do they know of the truth. Saphira catches her breath.

“W-what….happened?” she gestures to the claw marks, torn through Nova’s fake skin. Nova won’t say anything.

“Wait--” the original Nova, along with H.A.B. and Kestrel-the-kestrel, following her through the smoke, chances upon the dragon.

“Aha! I know it! Her double didn’t find her after all!”

Saphira is equally delighted to see them, but for other reasons.

“Again! You three--” She glances to Nova’s double “--four, actually, are like the most plot convenient people in existence! Always popping up when things have gone bad, etc.”

Sadly, blank looks are not easily described. But suffice it to say that Saphira received three of them. Except for Nova’s doble, who isn’t a double, but wisely doesn’t say anything on the matter.

“.....what?”
Saphira frowns. “Why are you confused?”

“Erm…..most everyone was just murdered by copies of themselves, and your double burned/destroyed most of the hotel, there’s probably more wandering around here….Also, yes, l bet we’re good as dead. Anything else you want to know?.” H.A.B. says. To his credit, he was the only one who actually killed his double, which is doubtless pretty unnerving.

“No--but, for  the longest time--poof! There you were in time of trouble, from your magic-portal-thingys!”

“Seriously--what? You aren't making any sense.”Nova says.

Saphira’s face falls. “So--wait--that never happened--okay, not confusing. Nevermind! I'm--um, going kinda of crazy. Yes! Exactly so. No worries.” She says hurriedly.

Silence.

So much silence.

What now, my dear explorers?

Because everyone is dead.

And no one is going to save you.

Wow..... I take that back about being possessed being awesome...... 

T3, that was amazing. It made me shiver..... and maybe hyperventilate a bit.

And I can't believe we all just..... died. Is that the end???? PLEASE DON'T MAKE IT THE END!!!!!! I absoloutly LOVE reading this. The weirdness, the dark, sarcastic humor, and maybe even a bit of reality....

But I guess it has to end sometime.

*sniffles* What a depressing thought. 

Day Twenty Four

(Prepare yourselves for an--explanation!)

The night is not dark, for the night has been burning. While the others slept peacefully, curled on the floor cleared of ash and dust, Saphira stays up and watches the embers of the fire slowly eat away at the roof above her. Sometime during that she must have fell asleep, for when she wakes up, she wakes to something she has not felt for a very long time.

The sun.

It is rising over the skeleton of the hotel, blacken beams stark against the light. All around her, everything is reduced to heaps of ashes, which even now are being scattered by the wind. And she realizes--at the moment, that she could just….fly away. Fly away from all of it. There were no walls trapping her here anymore,  no locked doors. She could just...fly away from all of this insanity.

Part of he scoldes herself. Saphira! What are you thinking? You can’t do that. You need to stay here  and help them! What about Moon? Are you going to let them all die like she did? l think not!

Despite that, she is feeling very happy.

However, joy is not a solitary thing, hiding in dark corners. Joy is a thing of the common people. In effort to spread this infectious thing, Saphira awakens Kestrel-the-kestrel and Nova.

“Look at it.” She grins. Nova blinks, tilting her head. “k suppose so.” She says in an odd voice, that implies that she does not understand.

“Wait--where’s your double?” Nova is instantly alarmed. She shakes H.A.B. awake. “I don’t know! She could be off murdering people--if there’s any left to murder--or just wandered off somewhere or--”

As if magic (actually, it probably was magic) Nova’s double emerges from the drifting smoke. She seems excited and frantic, gesturing wildly with her one hand. Puzzled, perplexed and bemused, they are unable to get any sort of answer from her, only that they should follow her. So follow they do. The double winds through a maze of wreckage, each corner bringing a new surprise, (namely bodies) until they arrive.

Part Lyes buried in charred wood, before them, is some sort of vehicle, box-shaped and open on one side. It as no wheels, but rather appears to be floating serenely off of the ground by a foot or so. It appears to be made of some warped, rusted metal, with no windows. The double ducks inside. Saphira glances to H.A.B. who shrugs. Things can’t actually get any worse, so here goes.

It is fairly small inside, with two office chairs thickly taped to the floor and a odd-looking contral panel of sorts. It has a steering wheel, and all sort of dials and meters. Except….they are all clocks. Saphira’s eyes light up. She recognizes it, not by sight but by theory of what it could do.

This, this--

This is a Time Machine.

Her mind switches gears, trying to figure it out. Obviously these three-Nova, Kestrel and H.A.B. did not know of it yet. Yet in her past, they had appeared. They were part of her past, but not their past. That meant--somehow, she has lived a different past than they had, a past where they had gone back in time.

Keeping in mind the ever fateful paradoxes--she did know that she had to tell them something aob it.

“I think--..” She say slowly, running her fingers over the dials…” All these clocks. They have to do something.”

“Like?”

“Well--what do clocks do? They measure--keep track off and in a way perhaps--control time.”

Like a match throw to some writer’s  notes, the ideas catches fire. Eyes light up.

“lt’s a time machine! A real time machine! Just look at it!” Nova is very excited.

Saphira resistes rolling her eyes. “Now what do people in, say, movies always do with time machines?” she prompts.

“Conquer the world!”

“Make sure Rome never fell!’

She really wants to roll her eyes right now.

“Um….more helpful? Like, oh, l don’t know, something that would help the situation we’re in?”

“We could--go back--find the murderer and keep them from murdering everyone!’

Sahira freezes. She has not actually considered that, only going back to the place that she had remembered, as so this whole mess of everyone being dead would be avoided. However, people had already been pretty dead--and if they could do that--if they could save everyone, why wouldn’t they?

The double waves a hand.

She communicates, nonverbally by writing on the back of a playing card, that if they did do that, went and saved everyone, then they would not end up in the situation and thereby would not have the motives to go back and save everyone, thereby paradox! Nothing would actually change.

“Oh.” Nova says softly. “We can’t save them all.”

“But--hey.” H.A.B. says, “You do realize that everyone is going to die sooner or later. So you’ve just helped them to get over something they probably fear.”

“Oh--that’s cheery.”

“But--we can save some of them, right?” Saphira says. “If you find the point where things changed, where the doubles came into existence, then you can stop that--”

“Paradox. H.A.B. moans.  “Nova’s double lead us to the time machine. No double, onn time machine, no going back.”

The double waves a hand.

l’m not a double, you idiots! She furiously scribbles on the paper.

“Who are you then?”

She pauses, hand hovering over the paper.

I…..l’m my programming. Programming says to save them all. Save you l will.

They do not understand. But they do not press her for more information. There are more important matters at hand.

They need to save them.

After much debate--it was decided (well mostly forcefully argued by Saphira) that Nova, Kestrel and H.A.B. should attempt to pilot the time machine, first setting what they hoped to be their destination, around the hour that they remember the doubles first appearing. Saphira cheerily closes the door. H.A.B. pushes a large red button that they hoped would do something.

It didn’t.

Or at least they thought so.

To Saphira  and the double, the box simply….fades into the smoke, and pretty quickly too. Sahira glances around as if there's anyone around to hear her. “So--who are you exactly? Because l feel you are not what you seem.”

And you aren't what you seem, either. Nova writes snappishly.

“How do you know so much about the time machine?”

How do you even know about it at all?

“But okay. I’ll try to explain. In my past--the three of them sort of appeared, wherever there was a crisis, and they had, warned, us and helped us get out of the mess. And since they don’t remember that, l think that l somehow was living in one timeline and crossed into the timeline where mine had yet to happen.”

Surprisingly--Nova nods.

Same. she writes simply. I am Nova.  

Saphira frowns, but Nova will not explain.

Back on the machine, they ah, are experiencing technical difficulties. Namely trying not be reduced to very small bits.

“Who even thought that office chairs of all things, were a good idea?”

Nova shouts over the sound, as the two are pitched around the small vehicle, gripping on for dear life.

“Who thought seat belt weren’t a good ideas here?” H.A.B, retorts.

Who thought bringing me along was a good idea? Grumbles Kestrel-the-kestrel

And then, for some time they seem to have lost themselves to darkness.

Nova wakes to Kestrel-the-kestrel flapping nosily around.

H.A.B. is fiddling with the latch on the sliding door of the time machine. He leans out to see where they have landed.

With an abrupt yell, he disappears from sight.

Panicked, Nova stumbles over to the doorway. And then she falls as well.

Slowly standing up, H.A.B. attempts to find his surroundings. They appears to be in some sort of cave or the other, and it is dim. Before them, there is a half-open door, a key sticking out of it.

And a body.

Nova yelps, nearly tripping over a dead Paris as she enters the room.  

A living Paris grins at them. A live knife-wielding Paris, that is. They exit a bit too hastily, H.A.B. and Nova shoving the door shut and turning the key. “Okay.” She pants. “I think we're a little too late.” She notices the key, and takes it out of the door, examining it.

Underwood is written upon it.

H.A.B. peers over her shoulder.

“You know--” He says, “We could just prevent Paris from finding the key altogether! No key, no doubles.”

Nova’s eyes light up. “Yes!”

(To see the extent of that adventure, see Day Twenty One)

“On second thought--” Nova says, panting, as the time machine whirls off. “I don’t think that it was quite a good idea to tell her to remember Underwood. Maybe tell her to forget it? I mean--humans are always curious and doing what they shouldn’t, so..…”

“Well...yes, l guess? It does make sense. You should probably tell her to avoid it or something. I don’t know if she'll listen to you.” H.A.B. says.

“You should come along too, you know.” Nova explains, as she twists the hands of the pilot clock. “Don't you remember--we explored the library of Voices yesterday--and--” Her voices choked off.

“Oh. Well then. Yes, we should. And maybe--you know--keep them from dying.”

(See Day Twenty Two and Twenty Three. :)

H.A.B. and Kestrel-the-kestrel materialize into the time machine. Kestrel is confused, H.A.B. distressed.

“We left Nova! I can’t believed that even could happen! Now she’s stuck in the past, stupid, stupid--
Kestrel screeches.

H.A.B. sighs. “No l don’t--”

The bird violently flies into the walls, running into the control panels, desperately trying to say something. H.A.B. doesn’t notice until it’s too late.

“Wait--where exactly are we headed now?”

He rushes to the control panel, eyes searching for the clock.

But both hands are set on twelve, and all the digital clocks are showing plain zeros.

“That can’t be--”

The two are thrown (very painfully, might l add) into the wall. Moaning internally as to where they have ended up now, H.A.B. pushes himself to his feet and goes about unlatching the door.

However, unlike the other times, where outside there was a shing, endless void that they fell into to emerge from a portal, it is as if he is watching from a window.

“Oh. l think we went a little too far back.”

And that is all he can say for a long while, as below him the endless darkness of space stretches onward, an infinite void, swallowing everything.

And then--as the light of the nearest star beams brilliant and scarlet, staining the darkness with light, some drifting rocks and swirling vibrant mist, yellow and purple, start to nonchalantly circle around each other, faster and faster finally clumping together and then starting to draw in other matter, various clumps of rock and whatnot, blending them in, all while spinning and spinning, growing bigger.

Other orbs of rocks began to appear in the sky as well, sometimes rocketing so close that their gravity throws the new planet sideways. One, a smaller one, speeds towards the planet and collided at full speed with it, with an explosion dust and fire, knocking the planet sideways slightly, as if it is on a tilted axis, before rebounding off and settling itself into an orbit around the planet.

And as magma and fire began to sprout on this brand new planet’s surface, so violent and wild and yet bravely beautiful in a way, like a sight only for the strongest of hearts. And as the fire dies but in turn the vast hungry waters engulf the entire planet, churning and roaring, as the land emerges from the sea, and then the green life of the earth, until finally, as one half of the earth turns dark, but in turn the land it lighted up with thousands of other lights, braving the darkness, so brilliant and scattered, H.A.B. says, “Yes, l do believe we have come too far.”

Kestrel thinks not.

Whoa. The creation of the planet. And no offense, but not helpful, Nova. Oh well. I still have a chance, maybe. 

Maybe. 

Short day because your dear author is currently functioning off of five hours of sleep and that needs to be fixed.

Day Twenty Five

All’s well that ends well.

Well except for the two people stuck in the future. And for the one from a timeline that was erased. And that one who has a problem with everyone and suddenly has to murder them on a whim. Ah, l've said too much already, haven’t l.

Well, in a very plot convenient sort of way, the time traveling (more like time blundering) of the previous day had nicely reset everything as so no one was dead any more, and there were no longer any doubles wandering around and wanting to murder people.

Well except for the part where they left a partly-destroyed Nova in the past. But that’s none of my business now, is is?
~~

There’s something that people have never really factored into space fiction and all that.

It is huge.

And unlike Earth, where the horizon and various large objects will block your view of seeing something, space has none of that.

It is vast. And it is empty.

There seems to be no ending point, and you can stare into space for the longest time and never reach a point where you cannot see.

It is vast. And lonely.

Especially if you’re trapped in a time machine with a slightly crazy bird. And said time machine seems to be dead. And you are starting to wonder how long that said bird would last as a food source. Not saying like you would, but that bird is awfully annoying. And the fact that this machine doesn’t stay put, it’s rocketing around the planet, swinging along its gravitational force.

Well, how convenient, because this is the exact circumstance that H.A.B. is in.

He doesn’t know how long it has been, it’s impossible to keep track of time, everything goes by just so fast. He has long forsaken the idea of keeping track of time. He doesn’t know if he is going to escape, or get out of here.

Space is very lonely. And dark.

Because one day, he does not know which, he is aware of being awake. And the time machine is dark.

And Kestrel-the-kestrel is gone.

Who knows why.

But he does send a long time staring at the bright stars, wondering what it’s be like to fly into them.

However, in the meantime, space is awfully nice, when you’re not dying there. Somedays he’ll watch planet Earth as is whirls away on its course to nowhere, speeding thousands of odd miles, unaware of him observing it as it speeds even faster to the end of all time.

He wonders, perhaps, lucidly, if he will around to see it  in its final glory.

~~

However this reset has lead to many rather unfortunate side effects, all of which, while not being terribly life threatening, are being annoying. Instead of being possessed by the Voices of the Library, Moon and Brian are now possessed by something far more literally.

Shakespeare.

“Shall l compare thee to a summer’s day?” Brian says to Moon.

“Oh, yes please. For l have nev’r heard such buttered words glide from thy mouth, and they do please me so. Your voice is the delight of angels, and thou doth bend down to earth to hear they nobel words. You do but flatter me.”

Jarvis, in the background, makes a face, pointedly staring for an uncomfortably long time at the two.

“Ho there, passer by! Why do you disgrace me with your vile--”

Jarvis does not remain any longer in their presence.

Another example, is Nova.

Both of them, actually. The complete and normal one, and then the one who isn’t….quite Nova. The normal one doesn’t know what to think of her. Who is she? Why is she acting this way?

And perhaps, this other Nova is going slightly insane. She has been acting strangely, namely stalking people and appearing in the oddest places. The normal Nova fears that she is giving her a bad name, making people fear her in while they are just being afraid of her creepy twin.

She pulls her aside, into a hallway.

“Look…” She says slowly , attempting not to glare at the other but doing so anyways. “I don’t know who you are...or what you want, do please, please quit--”

You don’t remember.

A voice says matter of factly in her head. Nova jumps, and ashamed, turns to the other Nova. “Did you just…?”

Yes. Don’t question how. I don’t know why. Probably because we’re the same person. We think exactly the same. Or were.

“No! What the--how--we are not the same person. How--how you that work?”

Well a different version of the same person, at the least. She says grimly. I lived a different life than you did. Harder. Consider yourself lucky.

Nova tilts her head. “Oh really? And do tell me about this “other life”. I doubt it was anything special.”

The other one tilts her head, mimicking Nova like  a mirror. She does not respond, she appears to be thinking.

I saved them all. She says simply.

I saved them all.

“And so could have l.”

Something changes in the other’s manner. Nova recognizes is as anger. Raw, cold, calculating anger. She does not recognize that it is a threat.

No. No.

The words scream in her head.

You cannot save them. Only l can save them all. You cannot. I know it. You must go. You must be deleted.

Nova backs to the wall, fear starting to show in her eyes. “Wha--wha do you mean? Of course, of course--”

The other shoves Nova to the ground, quickly, and before she notices what she is doing, the other opens the plate on the back of Nova’s head and presses the power button.

She then finds the other button, small, and her finger hesitants over it, before making a decision.

The button is marked, simply, “Delete A.l.”

Is it murder if you’re killing yourself?

I am still very confused. This explantion is not an explantion to me. Can someone boil down what happened into as few words as possible? And just don'y say "everyone came to a hotel and died."

Also, I said Nova was a robot. I never said she was a helpful one.