Butterflies of the Dark Star

THE SECOND LOOP (1)

Waves of possibility smashed against his kneecaps. Each one a click of a ballpoint pen, in constant, aggravating white noise. Hands outstretched to the fleeting moment, he lowered them to his sides in the starry dark, long lost of any explanation. Past lives and future dreams. Bubbles collected in his lungs and threatened to overtake his bloodstream, a stake to the heart. He tried to block the current in his mouth as it poured nebulous rivers from his eyes. This isn't happening. This doesn't make sense. I don't know what you're trying to tell me.

Let me out.

Geometric truth molded in his head against the lances tied into the stars. Possibilities looped on themselves, a fracture he made. Underneath him, the low rumble of pure oppression grew teeth around the circle of time. Grey stars bounded and created the perfect edge of the swallowed light. What is this truth? What is this reflection?

The abyss stared back with his agony.

No.

The waves stilled, and crawled past his knee caps with the growing teeth. An audible groan escaped the event horizon, but he remained silent, drowning in terror. It rang out with a single name.

Kairos, the guardian of a single, fleeting moment.

He drew his attention to the broken black hole above his head, where the bipedals long disappeared into the darkness. "Why can't I see my reflection?" he whispered his inane question, but then received a single, eerie response in his own mind.

That is your reflection, little star.

It popped in a century.

His back slammed against metal, and he jolted away from the embrace. Voices droned on and he wheezed for his lie of a life. People sat at desks. Questions danced. But where, or when am I? Is that what happened? Stuck in the non-linear promise of space and time, he examined his environment. He came face to face with the tall, imposing Admiral Mythrai before twisting around to his mistakes. He scowled when the mirror sat in his desk, face in his cheek while Nova suffered a few seats over.

Eyes wide in torment.

Of memory.

"Fuck," Neo hissed and ran past Izerva, but he frowned when their fur stood on end and a low, confused hiss left through their nose when they shook their head. Onto the section, he raced to Nova's side when her breath came out in shattered fragments, her eyes darting to the lie once more. No, no no no, you weren't supposed to remember! ... why do I say that? No, concentrate! He smacked the sides of his head and focused on her, on the torment he put on her when she rocked back and forth in her seat, between two different realities, the one he put her in, and the one he dragged her out of. "Oh, Nova, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" He raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob when she leaped out of her seat, running out of the hall and causing everyone to turn to her suddenescape.

"Huh?" Thuni Horizol asked audibly.

Neo stared at himself, the useless mirror too startled to move.

Alarms rang out in different truths as he rushed out after her into the eastern sector, everchanging and unfamiliar. A soft cry left her lips as she fumbled into their dorm, and he ran in after her, checking around before heading to her side when she clung onto his chair, digging her fingers into the cushion. "Nova," he pleaded, and she spun around on the wheels with a soft gasp, swinging her arms out through his body. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen. Hey." He clung onto the solidity of his previous reality, and she stilled with a soft sob, tears reddening her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. I'm going to fix this."

"Nova?" his own voice questioned.

Ugh, here we go. Neo stepped through space to allow the cracked mirror to reach out for her. Nova closed her eyes tight, not believing the lie.