𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖- 𝕃𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕠𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕨

four

"Okay, that should just about do it." Lily told Raymond.

"And now we just have to activate the medallion and see if Gideon can access it's data." He replied.

"Okay!" Lily sighed, "So what are we waiting for?"

"Raymond doesn't want to kill Gideon." I said getting out of my seat.

"Yeah, that." Raymond said.

"Well if that is your concern Doctor Palmer, can we at least talk about this-"

Raymond cut Gideon off by activating the medallion and then her systems shut down.

"Gideon?" Lily asked hoping for an answer, "You still there?"

Raymond looked frantic, "Oh my god, we killed her."

Gideon went back online, "Artificial intelligences cannot, by definition, be killed, Dr. Palmer."

"Yes, I know." He remarked.

"It's pretty remarkable considering we just mainlined 1.2 zettabytes directly into her brain."

"I'm processing the medallion's temporal input as we speak."

We all sighed in relief and Raymond chuckled.

"Nice work, doctors!" I half smiled and Lily and Raymond gave each other a high five. I got up and turned on my heel, allowing them to celebrate alone.

I walked into the library and looked at all the books and trinkets. On the main desk was a spear, not the Holy Lance, of course, but it felt so familiar. I picked it up in hopes of getting a better look at it. Instead the room went spinning and my vision went blurry. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again I was in a different place. Yet again, I didn't know where, but I felt at home here.

"Come on, Pallas!" A very tall and muscular man cheered. "Disarm her!"

Me and the girl I guessed who was Pallas sparred against each other, hoping that the competitor dropped their weapon. My adrenaline grew high as I started to beat my opponent. Each swing I took with the spear was tactical and swift. I laughed in between her attempts to hit me. That was my first mistake. She took the chance to swing at my spear and I hit the ground, but I quickly got up. Dust swarmed the air and it got hard to see. I swung once, twice, then I heard a drop. Smiling, I went to help my competitor off the ground, as I suspected the battle was over. As the dust cleared up I could see her body on the ground. I ran to Pallas' side. She was drenched in blood and my eyes grew watery. I sobbed like I've never sobbed before and screamed for the loss of my dear friend. I blinked once more and I was in the Waverider's med-bay.

The first thing I said when I woke up was a strained, "NO!" And tears streaked my pale face. 

Someone walked into the med-bay. I quickly wiped my face and looked up to see Nathaniel. 

"Hey, what's up?" He said slightly concerned.

"It was just a bad dream, is all."

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" Nathaniel said.

I hesitated, "There was this girl, Pallas, we were fighting. Only to disarm each other, though. Pallas was winning, but she got distracted. An-and I killed her."

"Did you say her name was Pallas?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?" I replied.

"That sounds just like the Greek myth of how the Palladium came to be." He said ecstatically, " Did you have any other dreams?"

"One." I told him, "I was being made fun of for puffing my cheeks out while playing the flute."

"Huh, that's the beginning of the story Marsyas and the Flute." He said, "Did you know about the stories before you had the dreams?"I shook my head 'no' and he chuckled, "Maybe, you should stick around. We can find out why you keep passing out as a team."

"What about my grandmother?" I questioned.

"When you want to leave we can drop you off at the exact same time you left, it would be like you never left at all." He answered. 

"Well, then, when are we going next?" 

+++

Moving is a piece of cake. Gideon fabricated me clothes and essentials like hygiene products, a comforter set, and even a special toothbrush with my name on it. Raymond seemed to be happy to put someone new on the chore wheel and even Mick offered to help. The key word is offered. Being the youngest person on the ship has it's downs, like when the rest of the crew drink as a group, Stein has Gideon make me a juice box. Not even a glass. A box. 

I got to go on a fake mission that Sara set up to help me understand the means and consequences of time travel. The mission was that Alfonso Ribeiro didn't wan't to act anymore so the 1990's American Sitcom, Fresh Prince, never got big and it would create a shock wave in black communities. I, of course, handled the simulation perfectly and the time line was back in order. 

The Legion of Doom hasn't messed with the timeline since I got here.

Yet.

End on Scene 4