My Brother Has A Portal In His Bedroom

Prime Morria

The building they were led to was the only thing clean in the whole place. It was a pearly, crystal white and it hurt Thomas's' neck as he looked up. This was the sort of thing he'd expect from an alternate dimension. But, still, like the rest of the world around him, there were no plants. Nothing green grew here, not even grass. It was just dirt.

Thomas glanced at Logan and saw his brother messaging away on his brick-phone. How could he not have noticed this? It was a detail he's supposed to pick up on. Maybe it was because he was so shocked that his invention had worked. Honestly, Thomas should be shocked too. He probably wasn't because he was still convinced he'd wake up. But it wasn't a dream. Fan-fucking-tastic.

The guards led them inside the white building and it was just as clean on the inside. The air felt different too. Outside, it was cold and chemically. In here, it felt natural. Odd. Logan seemed to notice the change of atmosphere too and he grabbed Thomas's' wrist. At least he was finally noticing something was wrong...

The pair of brothers were walked over to an elevator that didn't look much like an elevator. Like everything else in this place, it had large wheels in view of the public, it had gears poised, ready to start working at a moments' notice. A guard pressed a fat button and the doors opened, sending the gears and wheels into a flurry. They ushered Thomas and Logan in.

"Who is Prime Morria?" Logan asked suspiciously, tightening his hold on Thomas protectively as the guards filed in after them, pressing another fat button on a selection board.

"She is our most esteemed ruler." Scoffed a guard. "Prime Morria will decide if you are crazy or not. And, judging by your clothes," he glanced to Thomas, "it won't favour you."

Thomas pouted and looked down at himself. "What's wrong with my shirt?" He mumbled, more to himself than anyone around him. No one answered and Logan pulled him closer.

The elevator was torturous. The air was so thin and warm in there, and it was cramped. The vent seemed to pump out the same mist that had covered the streets outside and it stung Thomas's' eyes. Everything in here was so cluttered and the teen was beginning to wonder if this was what claustrophobia felt like.

After an eternity, the doors opened and the mist rushed out, allowing Thomas to rub his irritated eyes in relief. Everyone had the same reaction and Logan's' eyes looked bloodshot as if he'd been crying. Whatever that mist was had not been healthy.

A guard cleared his throat. "You are now in the presence of Prime Morria."

Prime Morria was an unusual type of beauty. A beauty that not even those popular girls at school had. It was not the beauty of someone pure, or the beauty of someone kind and merciful. It was the beauty you'd see in an ice statue. Cold, freezing, sharp, dangerous, untouchable. Every edge of her angular form spoke power and ruthlessness. The beauty you'd expect from a seemingly ageless woman, perched on an elaborate, glass throne with a huge, spotless window behind her that filled the room with the star-filled sky outside.

Her hair was platinum blonde and it was shaved to no more than stubble along the sides, giving the long, floaty ponytail her wavy hair was bound in behind her head an ethereal, alien, celestial feel. Her skin was heavily tanned but it didn't make her seem ugly, like it could do to others. It blended with the sharp, uncaring curve of her body that was wrapped in a very tight, metal bodice, white fabric trailing from beneath it to make an elegant skirt. Her eyes were bright pink. That was the craziest part. They practically glistened. They shone like diamonds, just with the wrong colour.

She blinked as they approached and her voice chimed like bells as she asked, "Who are they?"

"We found them trying to get into an oxygen pump with a hammer." A guard said firmly. "They remained stubborn and we brought them in. The smallest is obviously crazy."