The Nibiru Effect

Memory 79

I stare at the man standing before me. He looks a lot like me, but there are a few subtle differences that make me doubt his identity. He's older than me. His muscles are prominent—he may not be as buff as Jonn, but he's definitely in peak physical condition. His jaw is square, and beard stubble coats the lower half of his face. His eyes are filled with pain and sadness. I can tell he's seen things normal humans can only dream of in their wildest nightmares.

It takes a while, but I eventually muster the strength to speak.

"Who are you?"

The man chuckles.

"I'm you, of course."

"You don't look like me."

"I'm older," he explains. "I'm you, three years from now."

That would make him—me—eighteen.

"How is that possible? How are you here?"

"It's complicated," admits the older Will—if he's indeed who he claims to be. But who else could he be? Avalon? I guess it's possible, but why would she go through all this trouble? It doesn't make sense.

"Why are you here?" I ask, deciding that, at least for the time being, I will pretend the man standing before me actually is an older version of me.

"I've come to help you," he says. "You must not abandon Kara and Jonn. They will die unless you help them."

"Don't you think I know that?" I snap.

My older self smiles. "I'm sorry. I forgot how upsetting it was to be on your end of this conversation."

This is getting confusing.

"Are you here to help me?" I ask.

"Sort of," says Will 2.0.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighs. "It's complicated. All I can say is one day when you're me, and I'm long dead, everything will make sense. In the meantime, you'll just have to trust me."

"Don't you mean me?"

He chuckles. At least I didn't lose my sense of humour.

"We're the same person," he says. "You. Me. Us. It's all the same."

"Right," I say, though I'm still kind of confused.

There's a moment of silence during which I wonder if perhaps this older Will is Avalon. But, no matter how hard I try, I can't come up with a single reason for her wanting to manipulate me. She gave me my mother's ring. She let me go. Why do all that if she planned on pretending to be my older self? Come to think of it, is it even possible to shift into an older version of a person?

"It's not," says my older self.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

He chuckles.

"I'm you, remember?"

"Right," I say. I'm not a hundred percent sure I believe Old Will is who he claims to be, but right now, it's easier to believe than to rebuke. Not to mention I've just realized I finally have the perfect source of information at my disposal.

"I'd love to spend the next few hours answering all of your questions," he says before I can speak, "but I don't have much time. Please listen and try to keep an open mind. Can you do that?"

I nod.

"Good. There's only one way for you to save your friends. You must master your shifting ability."