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Avery shouldn’t have walked through that door.
In his defense, what was he supposed to do? Let it hover there? There was something about it, he thought to himself, that called to him. Call it intuition or a lack of common sense. And now he was in some sort of — weird cavern, with houses all around him. A village, maybe.
It looked abandoned, mostly. There was only one person that he could see, a man with a long red cape and a golden helmet, standing by the fountain in the middle of the plaza.
The man turned as Avery approached. The helmet regarded him with some familiarity, its owner’s shadowy eyes almost hidden behind the bright metal.
“Avery,” he said, simply.
“What?!” Avery sputtered. “How do you know my name?”
He couldn’t see much of the strange man’s face, but he regarded Avery with a faint sort of bemusement. “Ah. First time, then.”
“First time?” Avery demanded. “What do you mean?”
“Well, that depends,” the man said. “Do you think you’ll keep coming through those doors?”
He asked the question like it was rhetorical. Avery bristled with indignation but also curiosity. Sue him, call him gullible, whatever. He’d always preferred to move forward and find out later.
“How do you know about the doors?”
Heck, he barely knew anything about the doors himself. They’d appeared as he was making a trip out of his — admittedly small — mine to drop off some ores to his house. This world was his, nobody else should’ve been able to join. Maybe a disgruntled opponent from his last Skywars duel was trying to play a prank on him, but that seemed unlikely. The universe didn’t work like that.
Whatever it was, sheer curiosity had propelled him to take a step through the gates — and then the world had faded and rebuilt itself around him with a speed that left him dizzy. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in his own world, but in this one. This odd, empty town. With this stranger.
Of course he was going to talk to him. What else was he supposed to do?
The man turned around again to regard the rest of the abandoned village. “I don’t know a lot about them actually,” he said simply. “Just that they keep appearing for you and not for me. But right now I’m guessing you know less about them than I do, so there’s no point in really asking.”
Weird.
“You know a lot about me,” Avery said, giving up on prying any helpful information out of the guy. “But I don’t know anything about you.”
“I have to find a way out,” the man said wryly. “That’s all you really need to know.”
“Oh.” Avery glanced at the nearest house. The cobwebs hanging from the rooftops barely even fluttered. There was no breeze in this place, which he supposed made sense given that the village was in a cavern, but it still made him feel spooked. “I guess if I lived here, I’d also get out. Don’t you get sun down here?”
The man said nothing.
With a sense of trepidation, Avery extended his hand. Better late than never to make an official introduction, even if this stranger was — well, strange. “My name’s Avery,” he said. “But I guess you already knew that.”
The man regarded his hand with a weary sort of amusement. He looked almost… fond. For a brief second, Avery was struck with the sensation of being perceived by a being that could not only see someone’s face but also what was hidden deeper within it.
Then it was gone, and the man reached out to take Avery’s hand.
“Until next time, Avery.”
As soon as his skin brushed Avery’s fingertips, the world flickered around him — and vanished.
Avery jolted upright, back in his world. His iron ore lay scattered on the ground from where he must’ve dropped it. The doors themselves were gone, no trace of their presence visible anywhere.
“What the heck,” he said out loud, to nobody.
The next time the doors appeared, curiosity propelled him through the yellow gates before he could think twice about his decision.
Once the vertigo had passed and Avery opened his eyes, he saw nothing but blinding red.
He slammed his eyes shut. What even, he told himself, and opened them again.
This time, his vision adjusted to the new setting. Fields of red grasses spread in front of him. White houses jutted out from the unending crimson sea. As he squinted, he saw a lone figure standing on the balcony of one of the houses, the harsh sunlight winking from the metal of their helmet.
“Hey!” He shouted, waving and running.
The figure turned. It was the same man as before. His armor was nicked and decidedly more dull than before. There was a rip in his cape this time, which was looking slightly bedraggled.
“Hey,” Avery called again. “It’s me! Avery!”
As he ran up to the building, he saw the man’s shoulders slump. “You’re here,” the slightly-less-strange stranger said, almost sounding relieved.
“Well, yeah.” Avery said, squinting up at the man. Silhouetted by the blinding sunlight, he was almost too much for Avery’s eyes to handle. “The doors came back. What’re you doing here? Did you see me coming?”
“No,” the man said. “I never do,” he added as an afterthought.
The sun was really starting to get to Avery’s eyes. He shook his head to get rid of the flares of light in his vision. “Hey, um. Can I come up?”
“Oh,” the man said, “Yes. Sorry. Stairs are through the entrance on the other side.”
Avery barged into the house and clambered up the stairs, almost tripping over them in his haste to reach the balcony. When he got there, the man moved over to make room for him soundlessly. Avery was mindful to keep his distance, but he couldn’t help but sneak a look at his companion.
Up close, he looked even more tired than before. There was dirt smudged on his cheek, underneath his helmet. It looked almost like a bruise.
“Do you know where we are this time?” Avery asked, struck with concern. He didn’t reach out to wipe away the dirt. That would’ve been weird for someone he met only once before. But he kind of wanted to — the guy looked really tired.
“No,” the man said. “But at least it’s bright here.” He exhaled, softly. “I shouldn’t stay, but I missed seeing the sky. Even if it hurts my eyes sometimes.”
Avery knew he was asking a lot of questions, but every new thing this man said made him even more confused. “Oh. Do you live underground?” The village rose in his mind.
The man turned to face Avery fully. This close, Avery could see the specks of soil that clung to the edges of his armor, staining the hem of his cloak. There was a small scrap of leaf debris caught on the edge of his helmet, probably where the man couldn’t reach or see it.
“Avery,” he said. “Do you know my name?”
Avery got the sense that he had missed something important, but he answered honestly. “No.”
The atmosphere changed. It was slightly melancholy, as if the man had pulled himself back a little — withdrawing into his armor, which was definitely more battered than when Avery had last seen him. How long had it been?
“Keep going,” the man said finally. “You’ll learn it eventually.”
“Can’t you tell me now?” Avery asked. His hand itched with the urge to at least wipe off the man’s armor, even if he couldn’t fix the mistake he’d just made — a mistake he wasn’t sure why he’d made by not knowing the man. Yet.
“No,” came the reply.
“That sounds dumb,” Avery muttered, petulant.
The man snorted at that, the sound rough and slightly unpracticed. After a beat, Avery laughed slightly as well.
At least the guy looked slightly happier now. Problem slightly solved.
He paused and looked at Avery again. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this since it won’t make much sense to you,” he said, “Given how little you know me now, but — I missed you.”
“Oh,” Avery said, surprised but not displeased. He didn’t know if he returned the sentiment, but the idea didn’t sound… wrong. Impulsively, he added, “I’m guessing we’ll see each other again?”
“We’ll see. Probably.”
“Then keep going,” Avery said, irrationally determined. “I’ll find you next time.”
“That you will,” the man said, and before Avery could jump away he reached out and touched Avery’s elbow.
The sensation was feather-light and barely there, but it was enough.
The world darkened around Avery again, and he found himself back in the savannah biome where the doors had appeared the second time, lead still in hand. The armadillo he had traveled there for squeaked at him.
“Dude,” Avery told the armadillo, “Did you see that?”
The armadillo squeaked again, but no other response followed.
Avery sighed and made another mental note to himself — don’t let the man touch you before you get answers — and prepared the lead.
The third time, it took a second for Avery’s eyes to adjust to the new light. He’d been in a lobby waiting for a duel slot to open up when the yellow doors had appeared. After a few minutes of nobody else noticing their presence, he gave up and followed the summons.
The man from before was sitting in the center of the cavern Avery was now standing in. His cape wasn’t ripped. He looked deep in thought, practically unmoving.
“Hey!” Avery called. “Um, knight guy!”
The man turned.
“Don’t tell me you forgot already,” he said.
Avery blinked. “Uh, forgot what?”
“My… name,” the man said slowly, like he was realizing something.
“Er, sorry. I don’t know that yet.” Avery came to a stop in front of the man, looking down at him. His helmet looked less rough, which was good, but something didn’t feel right. Avery filed the sensation away and continued talking. “Last time you said you were going to tell me, though. Do I get to know now?”
The man shook his head quickly. “No.”
“Next time then,” Avery said, shrugging. He wasn’t too perturbed by the answer — there most likely would be a next time, and this man would probably be there. Three times was beyond a coincidence.
“I would tell you that there won’t be one and you should stop coming here,” the man said with an air of weary irritation. He looked less tired than before, just contemplative. “But I don’t think you’re going to listen to me.”
“Hey,” Avery protested, grinning, “You look like you need the company.”
The man scoffed lightly, but didn’t comment any further. Avery wandered over to stand next to where he was crouching, mindful to keep his distance. The man didn’t look too bothered by it.
Now that he was slightly cleaner, Avery could parse more from the guy other than abject exhaustion. His eyes were alert, scanning the environment with startling intensity. After a couple moments, his gaze snapped to land on Avery, who immediately felt pinned by that bright gaze.
“So, was it you that set off the trap?” The man asked after a moment. “I know you’re here already. Why are you hiding from me?”
“What trap?” Avery asked, nonplussed. So much for this guy making sense this time, he thought to himself.
The man blinked. “Interesting,” he said quietly. Then, “You really don’t know my name yet?”
“I said before, no.” Avery fought the urge to throw his hands up in frustration. If the doors had appeared during the middle of his duel he could’ve intimidated the guy with whatever weapon was in his hand, but he was stuck with nothing. “What’s with this mysterious shtick, anyways? Who are you?”
“You’ll find out,” the man said again, slowly, like he was calculating something.
“At least tell me what’s going on and where we are.” Avery started pacing, back and forth. “And what’s up with all these doors that keep appearing? Why are you here? Why are we both here?”
The man opened his mouth. Avery watched in confusion then slight fascination as his throat worked, once, twice, and then he swallowed.
“I can’t tell you,” he said finally, “Because you’re not from this world.”
“And you are?” Avery asked, nonplussed.
The man’s face twitched but there was no other response. “I can’t say that either,” he said glumly.
Avery had the distinct feeling that when the man said he couldn’t, it wasn’t about whether he wanted to or not. He switched tactics to the only thing he was sure about, the one constant sentiment that rang true with this guy.
“Fine. Whatever. So let’s get you out of there, okay?”
The man smiled slightly. “Okay.” He paused. “Avery,” he added.
“Now you’re just saying my name because I don’t know yours,” Avery grumbled.
The man shrugged and pointed up. “See that over there?”
Avery looked at the large carving on the stone cavern wall that he hadn’t noticed before. It was huge and completely indecipherable. “Oh, that? Huh. Looks like enchanting table language.”
The man regarded him with a faint sort of bemusement. “It’s a cipher.”
“Oh.” Avery scrutinized the carving again. “Sure. What does it say?”
“Don’t know yet,” the man said. “I’m trying to figure it out. Cipher stacking,” he added, “Isn’t great practice but at least it keeps people out of whatever you’re trying to hide.”
Avery glanced down and saw the large set of doors carved into the cavern wall. “So you gotta solve that in order to get through?”
“I’m supposed to,” the man answered. “There’s also a combination lock.” He pointed at a set of levers jutting out from the ground. “Double security. Pretty clever.”
“How long do you think you’re going to take to get out of here?” Avery asked. “I’d help but man, I have no clue what the heck this thing says.”
“See if you can figure out those levers,” the man directed.
Avery hopped up and started poking around, flipping the levers back and forth. Nothing happened, not that he expected anything to work. A minute of this passed when he saw a shadow cross his sight and go over to the doors.
He abandoned the levers to bound over to where the man was walking. “You figured it out?”
“Yes,” the man said, then reached into his inventory.
Avery caught sight of something bright in his hand before he swung it at the doors, hard. Rock chipped away and broke under the motion.
The hole the man had made in the door crumbled slightly. Beyond it, Avery could see another cavern stretching into the distance.
He laughed, genuinely impressed. “Man, you’re smart!”
“Just following the rules,” the man said, hefting his pickaxe in his hand. Still, there was the beginning of a pleased smirk on his face. “Didn’t say whose rules, though.”
“Genius,” Avery repeated to himself. “Hey, why’d you even bother with the cipher then? If you were gonna do this all along?”
“I wanted to see if I could figure it out,” the man said, already preparing his next swing.
Avery laughed again in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. “And did you?”
The man adjusted his grip. “Yes.”
Avery snorted and said honestly, “You’re awesome,” and reached out to punch the man on his shoulder.
As soon as his fist came in contact with the man’s pauldron, the world disintegrated around him and rebuilt itself. He only recognized his error when he was sent stumbling with his swing, hand flying through air instead of connecting with someone’s body.
“Dang it!”
A few people in the lobby gave him strange looks, but he ignored them. Guilt welled in his chest — he brushed off the feeling.
Next time, he told himself.
At least the guy got through the doors.
This time he was prepared for the sudden change in environment when he stepped through the doors. His eyes took a second to adjust to the lighting, which was much dimmer than anything he’d experienced previously — even the village from before had some light, but this city seemed almost desolate. The only light he could see was a faint glow coming from one of the ground levels of a stone building.
Following the glow led him to the usual suspect, who was sitting against one of the walls facing the doorway, like he was waiting for Avery to walk through.
“Hey,” Avery said. He squinted at the guy, who looked slightly worse for wear. “You good?”
The man regarded him warily. The dent was back on his helmet. He must’ve gotten it recently. “What’s the last thing that you remember?”
Warm welcome, Avery muttered internally, but he opened his mouth to answer. “You finished the—”
Cipher was what Avery wanted to say, but his throat locked around the word. Blinking, he tried again. His throat seized, refusing to make any sound.
For the first time since entering this strange dimension, he felt a flash of real, genuine fear. For some reason he hadn’t thought of this universe’s rules applying to him as well. So this place can affect me, too.
“I can’t say,” Avery said finally.
“I figured. The world doesn’t want us talking about it when we’re not there. Or in its present.” The man sounded grimly satisfied, which — well, Avery supposed that was a consistent theme with this guy. “Which means you can’t tell me where you came from, and I can't tell you where we are.”
“But you have been talking,” Avery said, trying to sort through his past interactions with the guy. “It doesn’t make sense but you do say things.”
“Hm. It may not affect things we did ourselves, since we’re separate from the environment. Try talking about something else that you remember.”
What was the cipher? No sound came from Avery’s throat. Tell me what the carving said. Still nothing. How about—
“The pickaxe thing was cool,” Avery said, trying to grasp something.
“Ah.” The man tilted his head, speaking softly like he was talking to himself or thinking out loud. “Okay. Good to know. That is… less helpful than I thought it would be. But context is good.”
Helpful for what? Avery gave up on trying to figure out the context himself. Pickaxes. He remembered something from the outside world. Maybe he could talk about that.
“I, um, challenged myself to only use a pickaxe in Skywars duels. For a while.”
“Skywars,” the man repeated, slowly.
Avery was hit with a burst of doubt. I’m talking to the one person who doesn’t know what Skywars is. “You do know what Skywars is, right?”
“Yes,” the man said. “I don’t live under a rock, you know.”
Avery raised his eyebrows and gestured around them, encompassing the shadowy city with a wave of his arms.
The man glared tiredly at him from under the helmet. “It’s been a while.”
Avery stretched for lack of anything better to do. The man’s intent gaze tracked his movement, as slight as it was. “Hey,” he said. “Wanna practice PvP? I’ve been trying to get better at combos.”
“I don’t really play minigames,” the man said offhandedly, shortly.
“You’re just afraid I’ll beat you,” Avery challenged.
The man glared and opened his mouth to speak, but his next words were cut off by an earsplitting yawn. The sound seemingly surprised him as well as Avery, who stared at him in fascination.
“Wow. Hey,” Avery said, delighted. “You are human!”
“Why would I not be?” The man sounded faintly puzzled.
“You’re so mysterious.” Avery waved at him, encompassing the tarnished, battle weary armor. “I didn’t know you could, well, sleep.”
“It’s been a while,” the man repeated. “I can’t afford it.”
Avery squinted. “I can get not having fun, but I don’t get not sleeping. Won’t you—”
“I haven’t died,” the man said suddenly.
What?
Avery jerked his gaze up to meet the man’s face, who looked away as soon as he saw Avery move.
“Sorry, what?” Avery repeated incredulously. “You haven’t died?”
“Not since I’ve entered this world,” the man explained, face twisting like he wasn’t sure he would be able to say that. “I think that the—” his words stammered out and he grunted in frustration. “I don’t want to find out what happens if I do,” he amended, still scowling.
Huh.
Avery himself bit the dust every few days in his survival world — he wasn’t good at watching out for creepers when he went into caves, or being mindful of hidden ravines while exploring. He also lost duels more often than not. It was just a way of life.
He couldn’t imagine having to keep himself alive — in a world that, now apparently, viewed him as an unwelcome stranger.
Avery glanced again at the man. His helmet did cover a lot, but Avery could see a sliver of his face and the suggestion of his expression. The shadows under his eyes looked a shade too dark to just be from the lighting.
Concern simmered somewhere down in his stomach.
“You should sleep,” Avery said, surprising himself. “I’ll keep watch.”
The man blinked at him, looking taken aback. Avery set his jaw and returned the look.
I’m not backing down, he tried to communicate.
Slowly, he felt the man’s gaze turn considering, then softening, something relenting deep in the shadows of his face.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Yes!” Avery pumped his fist, unable to help his triumphant reaction. The man glanced at him, then turned away quickly, busying himself with shifting to slump more securely in the corner he’d chosen for himself.
Avery watched him as he draped the somewhat tattered fold of his cape over his knees like a makeshift blanket, folding his arms securely over his chest and crossing his legs at the ankles, leaning back to rest his head in the corner between the walls. From his point of view, it seemed like the man was used to sleeping sitting up or in a chair.
“Do you really sleep in your helmet?” Avery prodded.
The man eyed Avery suspiciously. “I do.”
“You can take it off.” Then, an idea occurred to him — “I’ve seen your face before.”
“Really,” the man said flatly. When Avery nodded vigorously, doubling down on his lie, the man continued, “What do I have tattooed underneath my right ear?”
“Um.” Avery floundered for a brief second, then guessed wildly. “Hello Kitty?”
The man stared at him balefully. “Really. That’s the best you can do?”
Avery groaned, conceding his ruse. “Okay, ugh! Fine. Keep your secrets.”
The man shifted to tilt his head back slightly. “Thank you,” he said dryly. Then, “I don’t see why you want to know anyways. It’s nothing special. My face, I mean.”
Avery didn’t agree. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to see what was underneath that mask — physically and also in other ways. But the man’s caginess and body language seemed to suggest that he was fiercely guarding that information, so Avery let his curiosity lie dormant and busied himself with poking around the interior of the room they were in.
Time passed. Avery entertained himself with walking around, then parkour practice cobbled together from blocks in his inventory, then just sitting on the ground. Every now and then he’d glance over at his companion, whose breathing had slowly eased into a deep, steady rhythm.
He snored slightly. Avery found that funny and slightly endearing.
Once Avery was sure that the man was fast asleep, he gave into some of his curiosity — if the man wouldn’t give up his secrets, maybe the world would — and left the building to explore.
There really wasn’t much. Just shadows and stones. He stuck close to the building anyways, guided by the faint glow, afraid to let it out of his sight. The sensation of words sticking in his throat lent him an extra caution that he most likely wouldn’t have had if the man hadn’t pushed him to discover it on his own.
This world was strange, and unique, and had a mind of its own. Right now it seemed content to let Avery explore cautiously, as unobtrusive as he possibly could be. He didn’t want to be the word stuck in its throat.
When he got back to the building, the man was stirring. He bolted upright just as Avery edged into the room.
“Avery?! A—Where were you?”
He sounded terrified, nearly beside himself. Avery blinked at the sudden shift in tone. He’d never heard his companion sound like that, not ever in the brief moments he’d interacted with him.
“I was out,” Avery said sheepishly. “Sorry. Did you rest well?”
The man’s panic had shifted into irateness. “You shouldn’t have left,” he snapped. “It’s not safe. You might’ve been hurt!”
Avery glared at him. “I haven’t been here as long as you but I’m not stupid, okay? Let me help!”
“It’s different,” the man insisted. “You need to be careful. This world is dangerous. It knows you’re not from here.” Trepidation rose in Avery’s mind as he continued, “I said that I didn’t want to find out what happens if I die. I really don’t want to find out what happens if you die.”
His voice was now bordering on slight desperation. That, coupled with the raw emotion in his voice that Avery was unfamiliar with, was what struck Avery the most.
“Fine,” Avery said slightly sourly but also mollified. “You’re welcome for the sleep, by the way.”
The man at least looked a little sheepish. “Thank you,” he said reluctantly, then he sighed. “You should get going. I don’t want anything to notice you, if it hasn’t already. This world is listening in ways that even I don’t know.”
Avery nodded, stepping closer to the man. He lifted his hand in semblance of a handshake, ready to depart, but pulled it back at the last second. The man tilted his head. Avery inhaled.
“Do I get to know your name now?”
The question hung in the air.
“Some people call me Derlord,” his companion said, surprising Avery.
Derlord. Huh. Avery squinted at the guy.
Up close, underneath his helmet, he looked tired. He’d slept — Avery had watched him sleep, not in a creepy way — but he still looked tired. It was the sort of exhaustion carried by those who had been walking a path for so long they couldn’t imagine a life without it.
“Have you always been this way? Super mysterious?”
“I don’t know if I’m that mysterious,” the man — Derlord — said wryly. “I just know too much. “
“Do you know about me?” Avery pressed. He held his hand out of reach. Derlord, who had started to lift his hand in response to complete the goodbye, wavered.
“Yes.” The man regarded him. “Somewhat. You’re very…”
His words stopped, but Avery had the feeling he had stopped himself, not the world intervening.
“What?”
Derlord shook his head.
“If I get out of here,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”
He sounded sad.
“Hey man,” Avery said. “Derlord,” he added. “No ifs. I know I keep saying this. We’re gonna get you out.”
“I’m glad you do,” Derlord said, in a moment of surprising honesty. “Keep saying that, I mean. It’s nice to believe.”
“That’s what I do,” Avery grinned down at him and hoped it looked encouraging. “Believe.”
“I know,” Derlord replied, then reached up and took Avery’s hand.
Avery nearly stumbled face-first into the water, but righted himself at the last moment. Looking up, he spotted a now-familiar figure crouching at the edge of the pond, staring up at the sky.
“Hey, Derlord!”
Derlord turned. He looked surprised, somewhat taken aback. “Avery,” he said cautiously.
“Nice pond,” Avery said, squinting at the water. It looked clean, fresh, teeming with a controlled amount of greenery on the surface. The sunlight filtering through the cavern opening glinted off the water, sparkling like diamonds. It was a little bright. Maybe that was why Derlord wasn’t looking at the water.
“It’s okay,” Derlord said vaguely. He seemed to be thinking about something, slightly disconnected from what he was saying. He hadn’t stopped staring at Avery like he wanted to look right through him, past his skin and bones and into whatever pulsed inside his ribcage.
Avery shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He crouched at the edge of the water, staring into it. Underneath, he could see a faint shadow inscribed in the center of the pond floor. Probably a puzzle of some sort, maybe like the cipher from earlier. Derlord must’ve been in the middle of solving it. “Have you figured out this one yet?”
“There’s nothing in the pillars,” Derlord answered. His voice still sounded slightly disconnected, like he was answering Avery out of reflex. “Nothing out of the ordinary. The gate in the center is made of netherite.”
Avery nodded. “You might as well just solve it,” he said out loud, then splashed into the pond to take a closer look. He might not be able to figure it out before Derlord broke through, but at least he could, well, take a swim.
“Avery,” Derlord said suddenly. “What’s my name?”
“Derlord.” Avery squinted at him. The sunlight glinted off his armor, highlighting the divot in the helmet. “Is this another test of yours?”
“No test,” Derlord said quickly. He sighed, somewhat to himself, and his gaze drifted away from Avery.
Avery continued looking back at him, trying to see if he could figure out what odd mood had overcome his companion, but Derlord continued staring stoically up at the sky. After a minute of this, Avery decided to continue investigating the pond.
A quick dive later confirmed his initial suspicions and Derlord’s observations — the gate in the center was made of netherite, and there was nothing else of interest. He splashed out of the pond and poked around the columns, breaking through to inspect them. Nothing besides some redstone torches.
He brought those back with him, just to see if they would hold up, but the redstone fizzled out as soon as he dunked them underwater. Dead end.
Avery peeked over at Derlord, who still hadn’t moved. He was still crouched on his outcropping, lost in thought. He hadn’t even glanced over at Avery once.
“Derlord,” he called. No answer.
He didn’t like not being useful, and Derlord seemed busy, somewhere in his own mind. A creeping sense of helpless frustration started rising in Avery’s mind. All these puzzles were starting to get to him.
There was nothing Avery could do to help his companion, who was smarter and more resilient than he was. All he had were his wits, which were useless. He didn’t even have a weapon or any tools. He had nothing.
Avery glanced at the netherite, then down at his hands.
Well, almost nothing.
He sucked in a deep breath and dove into the pond again.
Breaking netherite with one’s hands was less about strength and more about tenacity. Like almost every other material, it was breakable. It just took time, determination, and maybe a little bit of stupidity in order to believe that it could be achieved.
Avery had all of those.
He continually swam up and down, gulping down air then letting his weight drag him back down to the bottom of the pond. His arms started aching. His lungs burned. But he still kept going with that same dogged determination.
If Derlord could get this far on his own, he could help him out. There must be a reason for Avery to continually visit him. If he could contribute just a little bit, it would be worth it.
Time passed. Avery’s world narrowed down to his lungs, his hands, and the stone underneath the water. Above him, the light glinted, unwavering and unchanging.
Finally, finally — a thin crack spread through the gate.
Avery almost shouted in glee. He kicked off from the pond floor, sucking in a breath, then dove down with renewed energy.
Avery continued. The crack grew.
Slowly, pieces of netherite chipped away — then finally the gate crumbled completely, the debris falling into some abyss below. Water poured through the gap, nearly taking Avery with it. He floundered inelegantly towards the surface, flailing to reach the sunlight.
“Derlord,” he gasped, wheezing as soon as he broke through the surface. “Der—hey. Hey.”
He stumbled through the shallows, his hands numb and aching. When he got to the edge of the water, Derlord jolted from his reverie and looked down at Avery, seemingly shaking off the fog that had come over him.
“Are you ready to go?” He still sounded slightly distant. “Sorry for keeping you here for so long. I think I’m going to stay for a little longer before I—”
“Wait. Hey. Look.” Avery pointed at the center of the pond.
Derlord paused and looked at the water. He blinked, and it was like the remoteness sloughed off of him, jerking his attention fully back to the present for the first time since he’d asked Avery what his name was.
“You broke it,” he said, sounding slightly awed. “The netherite. You actually—what? With your hands?”
“I wanted to help. No big deal,” Avery said, flustered. He almost didn’t feel the ache in his arms anymore, the sensation drowned out by a slight tingling sensation rising in his chest. He faintly identified it as pride and maybe something else. “You gotta get out, right?”
Derlord nodded after a moment. He slid down from the outcropping and walked over to the water, stepping into the shallows and stopping in front of Avery.
“I didn’t know you were doing that,” he said, almost apologetically. “I thought — I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I wanted to help,” Avery repeated. “I’m not as smart as you. I didn’t figure out the puzzle. But I can, uh, I can do this.”
Derlord extended his hand for Avery to take. “Thank you,” he said softly, sounding more sure than he did earlier. “I’ll keep going. Thank you.”
The tingling increased.
“Promise me,” Avery warned. “You don’t get to give up as long as I’m here.”
“I’ll do my best,” Derlord said, and it sounded close enough to a promise.
Avery reached out and took his hand.
This time, the gates deposited him in a sparse forest with nobody in sight. Avery wandered around until he reached a clearing with another large, deep pool. He hadn’t seen any sign of human life yet, but he figured that the pool was the best landmark to wait at if he was going to meet his strange companion again.
He splashed into the pool to investigate again. It was much deeper than the last one, but with no tunnel leading out. It seemed to have been hastily blocked off with cobblestone — a sure sign that Derlord was nearby.
Avery decided to trust whatever reason Derlord must’ve had for blocking off the pathway and left it alone. He kicked away from the rocky floor to reach the surface.
Despite what everyone thought about him, Avery wasn’t stupid. He knew that he and Derlord were meeting each other at different points in their journeys. He knew that they were both probably not from this world that they met in.
He just couldn’t figure out what his own part to play was.
Avery thought of Derlord’s tired eyes and his bright mind. What a tough journey this must’ve been to complete on his own.
Floating on his back, staring up at the rocky cavern, he figured that maybe he didn’t need to figure out what he was here to do. Maybe all he had to do was to encourage Derlord to keep going.
He could do that.
Surely enough, a familiar figure emerged from the treeline in his upside-down vision. Avery flipped over and started splashing to the shore, waving at Derlord.
“Derlord!”
“Oh. Avery.” Derlord sounded surprised. “How did you get here?”
“The doors again,” Avery said. Earlier on, he figured. “See anything interesting?”
Derlord blinked at him warily. “No.”
Avery had spent enough time with Derlord at this point to know when he was keeping something to himself, but he didn’t want to push this time. “Okay,” he said, shrugging, then stomped out of the water to shake himself dry.
Derlord stared at him for a second longer before busying himself with something in his inventory. Avery sat down next to his crafting table and contented himself with watching his companion build whatever he’d set his mind to — which, apparently, was a chest and hopper system.
Derlord assembled it with the quick, practiced ease of someone who was familiar with redstone. Avery watched his sure, determined hands set the machinery with a pang of… something.
Jealousy? No, not that. Derlord was on another level of concentration, one that Avery honestly didn’t envy. It all seemed like too much to be thinking four steps ahead. Avery would rather busy himself with preparing to take those steps.
So if not envy, then what? Admiration?
Maybe. Even that sounded slightly wrong.
A muffled crash startled Avery from his thoughts. Derlord had started emptying the contents of his inventory into the chests — stones, items, anything and everything.
“What’s that for?” Avery asked curiously.
Derlord glanced at him. Avery could see him debate internally whether to tell Avery what the contents were for. Avery kept his face as open and guileless as possible, blinking owlishly at Derlord for maximum effect. Share with me.
Eventually, his companion’s desire to explain the workings of his mind won out over his suspicion. This seemed like a successful card that Avery could play.
“It’s a trap. The hopper runs out when I’m gone.” Derlord paused and bent down, scooping up a handful of dirt. He cradled it close to his chest. “I think I’m safe here, but I want to make sure.”
“Clever,” Avery said, meaning it. He meant it every time.
Derlord blinked, some of his distrust sloughing away. Avery could literally see it in his eyes. Though his face was mostly covered, he was getting much better at reading Derlord’s expressions.
Despite that, Derlord squared his shoulders and said, “You should go now.”
“Okay.” Avery felt slightly wounded but he also wasn’t too upset about leaving — this version of Derlord didn’t know him well. He raised his hand. “You know the drill?”
Derlord nodded, blinking at Avery’s hand like he was unsure of the motion but unwilling to admit the lack of knowledge.
Avery wiggled his fingers at Derlord, then had an idea. He closed his fingers, curling them into his palm, and extended his hand.
“C’mon. Fist bump!”
Derlord eyed him, this time with suspicion.
Avery groaned. “It’s not a trick, I promise. That’s all I want. I’m just a normal guy.”
With the hand not clutching his handful of soil, Derlord raised his arm. Slowly, warily, but he raised it. His fist was loose, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure about the motion — but he was doing it.
Triumphant, Avery grinned and knocked his fist against Derlord’s, and let the world fizzle around him.
This time the doors deposited him in one of the most breathtaking landscapes Avery had ever seen. Mountains jutted out of thick fog, thin bridges stringing between the jagged peaks. He had to drop to crouch on the ground to fight the dizzying vertigo that swept over him. For a brief moment, all he did was stare at the scenery, the mountains like fingers rising out of the colorless sky to reach for him.
A bright figure appeared on the edge of his vision, the sunlight winking off his armor. From his viewpoint, Derlord looked like a beacon shining from the summit, magnetic and commanding. Avery’s vision was helplessly drawn in his direction and snagged on his silhouette.
Avery lifted his arm and waved.
Derlord started approaching carefully, his cape streaming behind him in the alpine air. Avery beamed at him as he got closer.
“Nice view!” he shouted.
“Much better,” Derlord agreed. “But more dangerous.”
He moved to block the bright light, his shadow falling over Avery’s eyes. Backlit, he looked even more ethereal, less like a man and more like a young god, standing between Avery and the sun. Avery squinted up at his imposing figure and thought that somehow, the view had improved.
Derlord tilted his head and looked at Avery with that piercing gaze, deep and searching. “Do you—”
Avery rolled his eyes. “Yes, Der.”
Derlord blinked, looking taken aback. The distance between their physicality faded. He looked like a man again. “Der,” he repeated.
For a brief second, Avery relished the sensation of having gained the upper hand.
“‘Derlord’ is kind of a strange name, you know.” Avery squinted at him. His armor was really blinding and distracted him from seeing Derlord’s face. He really wanted to see what he looked like when he was surprised. “What are you even the lord of?”
Derlord recovered his composure, slipping back into his regular inscrutable expression. “Nothing,” he said dryly. “It’s just a name.” He turned to scan the mountains. “What do you know about this place?”
“Nothing,” Avery echoed back at him. He tangled his fingers in the moss growing by his feet to ground himself.
He tuned out the sound of Derlord starting to explain the mountains and the bridges to him, instead focusing on watching his face and listening to his voice.
He looked much, much more tired than before. Avery had gotten over the light a little while ago, his eyes adjusting to the shade that Derlord had provided him with his shadow. Now, he could see the faint, seemingly permanent bruises under Derlord’s eyes. His helmet wasn’t dented yet. The exhaustion from the underground city wasn’t visible in his body language, but the beginnings were there.
Derlord was still talking. At some point, his voice had gotten slightly rote, removed, like he was retreating further and further into his own mind.
Avery grabbed a handful of moss and threw it at his companion.
Derlord sputtered, his words faltering. Some clumps caught on the ridges of his helmet, scattering over his shoulders. For a brief second, he blinked at Avery, looking childishly bewildered.
Avery laughed. He couldn’t help it.
After a brief second, the corner of Derlord’s mouth pulled up in a grudging smile. “Did you even listen to anything I said,” he said resignedly. It wasn’t a question.
Avery shrugged. “This place is freaky, you figured the patterns out, blah blah blah.” At least Derlord looked like he was back in his body now, something other than weariness replacing the lines of his face, even if it was fond annoyance.
Fond. Huh.
Avery shoved the thought away and shifted, getting ready to stand up. “Let’s go?”
Derlord nodded. His hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to reach out and help Avery to his feet but remembered that he couldn’t at the last second.
Avery’s palm itched with a phantom, mirrored want.
They made their way over the bridges easily, making mundane small talk. Avery asked Derlord if he had eaten anything recently; Derlord answered that he didn’t get hungry in this world. In exchange, Avery offered him a story about recently crafting pumpkin pie for the first time.
He didn’t mention that once he had baked the pie, he had stood and stared at it, watching it cool before realizing that he had nobody to eat it with.
“Do you like pie?” he asked Derlord.
Derlord’s nose wrinkled. Avery could see his face transform underneath his helmet. “Sure,” he said, sounding less than convinced.
Avery rolled his eyes again. “If I invited you over to my house, would you eat it?”
Derlord paused slightly, a hitch in his stride. Avery almost missed it. “Yes,” he answered, with much more conviction than his previous one-word answer.
Avery’s mind caught on the image of Derlord in his house. Would he take off his shoes before entering? Scratch that — would he even take off his armor? How would he eat with his helmet on? Maybe by then they’d have known each other long enough, Derlord surely would have to take it off. The gap wasn’t large enough to fit a fork or spoon through.
Once Derlord was in his house, maybe he could convince him to stay a little longer. Go fishing, or something. He could build a campfire, they could make dinner. Talk about this world like it was nothing more than a challenge overcome.
By then Derlord would hopefully be less skittish. Avery could wheedle him into spending the night, I have a spare bedroom, it’s really no trouble, we have all the time in the world…
He was so distracted by the thought — the possibility — that his attention to his surroundings faltered.
Avery’s foot caught on something. A stone, a tuft of moss, whatever. It was enough to send his knee buckling.
He yelped and felt his body tip sideways, past his center of balance. Annoyance briefly flashed through him, the frustration of going through the motions of respawning — how would he catch up to Derlord now? — then he realized that this wasn’t his world, he had no bed, and for all he and his companion knew this was going to be his end.
His arms pinwheeled helplessly, teetering in the weightless moment of unbalance, trying to undo his mistake — but it was too late. He pitched backwards, over the precipice edge, into the abyss.
Avery saw a flash of gold and red. Someone yelled, hoarse and terrified. It could’ve been him but Avery’s throat was bone-dry with terror, and he didn’t have any wits left to scream.
Sorry, he thought desperately.
Then his body jerked.
Avery’s head tipped backwards but his body stopped moving. There was still solid ground underneath one of his feet.
He craned his neck up and registered Derlord’s fist twisted in the fabric of his shirt, over his chest.
His arms were still flailing, delayed, trying to help him regain his balance. On instinct, one of his hands came up and wrapped around Derlord’s wrist where he was holding onto Avery’s shirt, preventing him from falling into the void.
Avery barely registered the warmth underneath his fingertips — fingers gripping Derlord’s arm, which was locking his body in stillness, hanging above the bottomless mist — before he felt nothing at all.
His back hit the ground, hard.
Dazed, all Avery could do was gasp for air. This time, the breath he drew in was out of plain shock and not terror. The stars wheeled above him, barely visible through his blurry vision.
The stars. The sky.
He was back in his own world.
Derlord had caught him.
When the yellow doors appeared next, he practically leaped through them — and almost tripped on the damp, slippery rock that greeted him when he was through.
Another cave?
Avery spun around, his boots sliding on the stones. They were slick with some kind of algae or moss, the kind that grew in near pitch-darkness. Faint light was blooming in the distance a ways away on the outcropping he was on. In the distance, he could see a figure hunched over a faintly sputtering torch. Beyond that was the unsettling, bottomless darkness of deep water.
He approached Derlord as carefully as he could, making sure not to slip on the stones this time. When he got closer, he stopped short.
The torchlight reflected off of his companion’s helmet, which was resting on the ground next to him.
“Derlord?” Avery asked, cautiously.
Derlord turned.
Avery’s first thought when he saw his friend’s face was, There was no need to be hiding all of that.
His second, much more immediate thought was, Is he crying?
“Derlord,” he repeated, concern shocking him into action.
Derlord blinked, his eyes definitely glassy. His face was slightly damp too, but Avery couldn’t tell if it was because of the water surrounding them or anything else. “You,” he said, slightly nasally. “Avery?”
“Are you… all right?” Avery asked hesitantly.
Derlord nodded then shook his head. Even that action seemed to not come naturally. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “There’s something about this world that—” he gulped. “I’m scared. I’m really scared and I don’t know why, Avery. I can’t figure it out. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Hey,” Avery said, startled. “Really?”
Dumb question, he thought to himself, but Derlord scoffed wetly and nodded. His damp hair fell into his eyes. Avery’s fingers twitched with the urge to brush it away. “It’s crazy,” he said. “It’s almost irrational — no, it is irrational.” His words were coming faster and faster, like a flood. “I don’t know why. It’s like something’s telling me to be scared. If I can’t trust my own nervous system, how can I trust anything else?”
All the other times Avery had seen his companion, he seemed so — composed. Avery had felt like the intruder, wrong-footed in the world, whereas Derlord seemed to always be aware of his surroundings.
And now the roles were seemingly switched, harshly.
Was this always how Derlord felt?
“Look,” Avery said honestly, “You’re the smartest person I know. If anyone can figure out a way, it’s you.”
Derlord scoffed at that, but he also smiled wryly. Avery watched the motion and his heart leapt at being able to actually see that expression cross his friend’s face fully.
“I mean it.” Avery crossed over to sit down on the damp rock. Derlord watched him, his eyes dark in the shadows thrown by the flickering torchlight. “You’ve gotten this far. So far,” he added, knowing that his words didn’t encompass the entirety of what he wanted to say. “You’ll figure out a way, Derlord.”
Derlord laughed wetly, sniffled once. “I haven’t heard that nickname in a while,” he said.
“Oh.” Avery blinked. “It’s—it’s not your real name?”
Derlord nodded. “Derek,” he said. “My name’s Derek.”
Derek.
“Okay,” Avery said. “Derek.”
Derlord — Derek — smiled at Avery, small and genuine. He still looked shaken, but less so. Avery felt a brief, harsh wave of fondness overcome him, for this strange man and his intricate mind, who acted so assured but really was as scared and human as Avery himself.
He had the sense that he was witnessing a side of his friend that not many people had seen before. It made something in his chest ache, sweet and affectionate.
“Keep going,” Avery repeated. “I’ll see you soon.”
Almost unbidden, his hand rose. He watched himself, almost in a trance, reach out and brush Derek’s damp hair away from his eyes.
Derek’s eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into the touch.
The tip of Avery’s fingertips barely brushed the soft, vulnerable skin of Derek’s temple — and Avery jolted back into his world, shivering slightly, his arm still outstretched and reaching.
Avery stepped through the gates into a library.
It was impressive, overwhelming like a lot of the architecture in this universe. He wandered the hallways and terraces in a semi-haze of awe and slight trepidation, like he was creeping in the study of a god that did not know he was there.
Avery flipped through some of the books, trying to gain a sense of what was in the library. Most of the text was nonsensical — one was entirely written in what looked like shorthand for a dance routine or maybe a series of jumps — and he gave up after a few dead ends.
He was making his way to what looked like the center of the room when the floorboards suddenly creaked underneath his feet — and he was crashing through the platform to the floor below, with barely enough time to shout.
It was a short fall and he was brushing the dust from his hands when his attention snagged on a flash of gold.
“You’re not a hard guy to find.” Derek’s voice was guarded still, but less so. “Avery.”
Avery’s annoyance was quickly replaced by a tingling relief that he chose not to look into. “Derek,” he said, testing the waters.
Derek blinked — behind his helmet, his helmet was on — then his eyes cleared. Something must’ve clicked, or he was waiting for Avery to say that, because he was moving towards Avery with an almost controlled, anticipatory intent. “You said my name.”
“Sorry it took me this long,” Avery said sheepishly. “Does that mean we’re—”
Aligned is what he wanted to say, but he choked on the word. Derek watched him grimly.
“Almost,” he said, “If you tried to say what I think you said. It’s tough communicating without language but we can still find our way through. I think I’ve got it, Avery,” he continued, his words coming faster and faster like he’d prepared this speech, rehearsing it in his head over and over again. “We’re almost there. You need to be extra careful.”
“Okay.” Avery scrutinized Derek’s helmet, trying to catch a glimpse of the man underneath the armor.
“This will make sense later,” Derek continued. “Do you have any long-sleeved shirts? Or gloves?”
“Um.” Avery blinked. “I can probably scrape something together. Why?”
“Wear them,” Derek said decisively. “Both, if you can. All the time.”
Avery nodded, his tongue faltering slightly. His hands twitched at his side.
He still remembered the texture of Derek’s hair, underneath his skin. He remembered the warmth of his skin, the briefest of touches gathered over his travels. He was the first person Avery had wanted to touch in a long, long time.
The way Derek was looking at him now, intent bordering on rapt, had him thinking that maybe the want was reciprocated.
“We can’t stay here long,” Derek said softly. “I need to get going.” He set his jaw. “I’m done running, Avery. I’m not going to let this world keep stringing us along on its whims. I’m going to destr—” he choked on the word, then winced. “Probably best that I didn’t say that out loud. The point is, be careful. Be ready. This universe has been turning on us and it will only get worse, especially now.”
“Okay,” Avery repeated, helpless in the wake of his wanting and Derek’s resoluteness. “I’ll see you soon?”
Derek’s eyes softened. “Soon.”
When he reached out to clasp Avery’s hand, Avery squeezed as tightly as he could. For the briefest moment, he could feel Derek’s hand, solid and unyielding in his palm, then it was gone.
Avery unclenched his fingers, alone. Okay, he thought distantly. I can do this, too.
He was swimming, but not really.
Everything was distant, muted. Something was aching but he couldn’t tell what or where it was. His feet? His hands? Did he still have hands?
He swam through the blankness with mindless resolution. Everything was cool, remote, foggy. He couldn’t tell where his body ended and the static began.
Something fizzled. The static wavered.
There was a voice.
The blankness surged. He was swallowed by it again.
Again, the interruption occurred. This time, it was more forceful. Recognizable. Someone was speaking.
The words filtered through slowly.
Listen to me.
He strained to catch the voice.
Wake up.
The static rose again like a tidal wave. He almost went under, but there was something about the interruption — the voice, the words. He heard them. He could understand them.
The voice continued. You are enough. You are loved. You—
Me, he realized. It’s talking to me.
The shock was dull, but it was the first thing he felt. It spread through his body — he had a body. He had limbs, skin, and a face. Something was hard underneath his feet. The static was fading.
Avery?
That was his name. Avery.
Avery’s face was cold. He reached up and touched his cheek. His fingertips came away damp.
Avery, the voice repeated.
Avery blinked. His vision blurred.
His knees buckled and he dimly felt them bite the ground, grass crumpling under his weight. He would’ve pitched forward but a strong grip suddenly anchored him by his shoulder, a similar steady pressure settling on his arm, over his elbow.
He blinked again. His vision cleared.
Derek was hovering in front of him, his face open and wide with panic. Avery immediately didn’t like the way his expression had seeped through on his face. He looked almost distraught, terrified.
The sight of Derek was enough to pierce through the lingering fog in his brain, a tingling warmth spreading in its wake.
He swayed. “Derek,” he said, or attempted to say.
His vision blurred again. This time it was accompanied by another strange sensation. He reached up again and jerkily touched his face, pressing underneath his eyelids. Wetness. Tears. He was crying.
“Avery?”
Avery smiled weakly. His vision was slowly coming back, along with sensation in his body. The numbness was being chased away by cold, but at least it was something. “You’re here,” he mumbled.
“I almost left,” Derek said. His voice was fraught with distress. “Avery, why did you read the book? You shouldn’t have read the book!”
Oh. The book. Avery remembered it. Kind of. It was in some sort of building — a church, maybe? The fog was still drifting in the corners of his mind, slowly siphoning away.
That’s how he must’ve gotten into this state. The book. He’d picked it up, thinking it was important. Bad idea.
“Couldn’t find you,” Avery said through numb lips. “I thought you left it.”
Derek was muttering something to himself. Avery couldn’t quite understand it, so he decided to take stock of his body instead. The pressure had moved to both his shoulders — he realized Derek was holding him slightly upright, as he was now kneeling on the grass with his legs folded underneath him. Avery’s hands were fisted in the bright redness of his friend’s cape — when did that happen? — but he hadn’t traveled yet.
He was oddly warm now, overheating. The cold was being chased away with every moment spent back in his own body. He looked down and noticed that he was wearing gloves.
Derek told me to wear gloves, he thought faintly.
He looked back up.
Derek wasn’t wearing his helmet.
Avery watched Derek. He was saying something still, but the words sounded remote to Avery’s ears. He looked pained with some indescribable emotion, one that Avery had never seen directed at him before. Slightly wet eyes, a desperate tilt to his mouth and voice. It took him a second to place it.
Relief.
Derek was relieved, to the point of fully breaking his composure. All because of him. Because of Avery.
Because he cared.
He came back for me.
Jeez, he was really close.
Suddenly, all Avery wanted to do was to get closer.
He was leaning forward before he was aware of it. In slow motion, with a body that was working far too slowly for the decision that he was making, he closed the distance. His hands loosened, lifting as well.
Avery thumbed Derek’s chin, fingers tangling in the longer hairs drawing at the nape of Derek’s neck. Fabric slid against skin, the drag slow and rough. He wished he could feel it.
Derek’s mouth went slack with surprise. His eyes were wide, his pulse jumping in his throat — Avery could see his pulse in his throat! — quick and wild, caught off guard.
Avery only had a second to soak in the sight before he kissed him. It was just the faintest brush of his mouth against Derek’s, but it was enough.
Immediately, he realized his mistake — but it was too late.
He pitched forward with nothing to hold him up, through the ghost of where Derek’s body would’ve been. The hands on his shoulders were gone. His own closed over empty air.
Damn it!
Avery, his face pressed against the ground in his own world, screamed into the dirt.
Avery stumbled through the doors onto a landing of some sort.
Immediately, his brain went offline. Everything was happening around him — shapes, colors, sounds. It was a complete and total information overload. There were a thousand voices in his head and all around him, all talking at once, listen to me please please please —
He squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears. The voices stopped. He was the only one in his mind again.
“Derek!” He shouted.
“Avery,” came Derek’s response, clear and loud. He must’ve been nearby, in whatever place this was. “Go!”
“No!” Avery shouted. “What the heck is going on!”
“Don’t come any closer!” Derek’s voice was definitely stressed. It wasn’t the same sort of desperation that Avery had heard before, when his emotions had clearly breached his composure. This time he sounded like he was trying to save face, maybe for — a third party. “Go! Leave!”
So the universe really was turning against them, he figured. It had taken a while for Avery to get used to sleeping again. Unconsciousness felt too much like the state that the book had rendered him in — helpless, blank, numb.
Whatever lived in this world was infinitely powerful. And it didn’t have to be confined to the items he interacted with.
As usual, Derek had found it before Avery did. And as usual, Avery had joined him right at the crux.
“Let me find you!” Avery yelled, doggedly persistent.
“No! Get out of here!”
Whatever was happening in this place, it must’ve had Derek trapped. Avery couldn’t move without opening his eyes, exposing himself to the overwhelming surroundings. Even if he wanted to leave by touching his companion, he would have to open up his senses to the cacophony around him.
Avery inhaled and exhaled. You can do this, he told himself, and opened his eyes again.
The world surged around him, just as intense as before. Maybe even more so. He was aware of a sort of presence, watching him avidly. It seemed faintly victorious, maybe curious. He couldn’t really pick it apart from the miasma — but he knew it was there, much like it was aware of him.
He forced himself to think of one thing and one thing only.
The colors in his vision shifted and merged. He could see, somewhat, through the veil. He took one agonizing step forward, then another.
Derek was silhouetted in his vision, just a little ways away, staring off into the distance. His helmet was gone. His back was turned to Avery.
Whatever he was looking at, Avery couldn’t see. Not through the noise and pressure, anyways.
Avery gritted his teeth. Derek, he thought, or called.
Derek turned.
As soon as his gaze met Avery’s, the storm around him quieted. It was like he had stepped inside a room — the presence had retreated somewhat. He could feel it hovering on the periphery of his consciousness.
Derek looked — Avery couldn’t tell, actually. It was enough of a struggle to just focus on him, the shape of his mouth, the tilt to his eyes. He clung to the sight like a man drowning. He probably was.
“Derek,” Avery said. His throat felt dry. The same static-esque feeling was starting to seep back into his body, gathering at his extremities. “What’s going on?”
“It’s the king,” Derek said grimly, “Of this world.”
The presence surged, rippling with acknowledgement. It pressed at Avery’s mind and he shook it away, staring hard at Derek. Maybe a little too hard. Derek licked his lips, once, furtively. Avery wanted.
“King. Okay.” Avery breathed, in and out. The edge of his mind started to feel like it was liquefying. “That’s what we’re up against? How do we get out?”
“Avery.” Derek looked — sad. Avery was looking at him with such focus that his vision was starting to blur. “Take my hand.”
Avery flinched away. “What?”
“Listen to me,” Derek said, insistent. “You need to leave. Time is up.”
“No!” Avery’s voice cracked. “You have to get out too — what about leaving? You were so sure!”
“I was never going to get out, Avery!” Derek stepped closer — Avery skittered backwards, heart pounding. “This world doesn’t want me here. The king isn’t here for me. It’s here for —” he paused, his breath hitching. Avery thought he could see Derek flash a glance towards their surroundings, which were waiting with bated, entertained breath. “It wanted you.”
“What?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Derek was speaking quickly, his words controlled, like he was unraveling a tapestry. “The gates, the danger. It was never here for me. It was here for you.”
“What does it want from me,” Avery whispered.
Derek gave him an inscrutable look. “A host.”
Horror lanced through Avery. He shook his head. The motion dragged his eyes away from Derek, taking in more of his surroundings. The world — the king — pressed up against his awareness with insistent finality.
“It needs someone to give it consent,” Derek continued. “For all its power, it can’t do the last step alone.” He sounded bitter. “All this power and you can’t do the job right, huh? You had to drag us both into this?”
The world pulsed with dismissive derision.
“What are we going to do,” Avery said. His words rasped against each other like grains of sand in a dune. Falling, helpless to gravity.
Derek took a step closer to Avery. Avery let him.
“Avery,” he said. “I’m going to let it in.”
“What?” Avery reeled away from him. “No!”
“I’m going to let it in,” Derek repeated. “I need you to let me do this.”
“I can’t!” Avery’s eyes burned. “You can’t just — expect me to let you do this and move on! I — you — I know you—”
“No, you don’t!” Derek shouted. “You don’t even know me! You only know parts of me and my journey. I had time, Avery. I knew what was coming even if I couldn’t say it. I thought I could save you but I was wrong. This is the only option!”
Avery faltered.
Derek’s words were obviously meant to hurt and drive him away, but he was right. Avery barely knew him, and inconsistently at that — but he knew enough. Derek had made up his mind. Avery wouldn’t be able to change it.
In an argument, he would always win. He’d probably thought of all of Avery’s responses and formulated arguments against them. There was no winning if Avery followed the rules.
He gritted his teeth. So he wouldn’t.
“Okay,” he said. “So?”
Derek blinked, taken aback. “What?”
“So what?” Avery repeated. “I don’t care. Maybe I don’t know you.” He inhaled. “But I want to.”
Derek’s face crumpled. “Avery,” he said, helplessly.
“I wanted you to come to my house,” Avery continued, “And I could make us pie and then dinner, and we could be safe. And I can get to know you.”
The world around him thrummed with mocking delight. He ignored it.
“Come on,” Avery pleaded. “You can’t give up. You can’t give up on me.”
Derek inhaled then exhaled. The moment hung in the air. A precarious balance, a drop waiting to fall. A sentence waiting to be heard.
“Give me a minute,” he said. “Let me talk to him. Alone.”
Agreement. Avery felt a pressure that he didn’t know existed leaving his mind.
“Avery,” Derek said. His voice, now stripped of his false confidence, was pleading. Desperate. It was funny how often Avery was hearing that side of him, now. “You need to let me do this.”
Avery shook his head. “No.”
“It’s the only way,” Derek bargained. “You go. Live your life! You have so much to live for.”
“You do too!”
Derek shook his head and opened his mouth.
With that motion, Avery realized something. There was no way that Derek would give up. There was no way that Avery would, either. He had one card left to play.
Whatever bargain Derek had struck with the king before Avery had gotten there would not hold up against what the king originally wanted, what this entire journey had been constructed for.
Okay, he thought to the world. I’m ready. You can have me.
The world froze.
Avery blinked. Derek was mid-motion, mouth slightly open, in the midst of a sentence. It was like time had paused. His eyes were wide.
Avery was sure he could still see and hear him. He gave Derek a weak smile.
“Sorry,” he said.
The world spoke.
GOOD CHOICE, it said.
Then, everything blanked out.
It was like the universe had surged around him. He was everything, everywhere. Avery was aware of a terrible presence around him. It crowded out his senses, leaving him blind to everything but the wretched form it took. Everything around him whited out, screaming in pain. A symphony of all the information in the world.
He was helpless.
It pushed at him, trying to overtake. Obey me. Let me in.
Give up.
He was alone.
He wasn’t alone.
Derek, Avery thought blindly, and lifted his hand.
The universe pulsed with disbelief and rage. He moved.
His fingers hit something, warm and solid and familiar. The pressure spiked wildly, then disappeared. There was a great rush in his ears, his body, an endless whirlpool.
The world dissolved.
Avery’s feet hit the ground.
He spun around, gasping in air. “Der—”
Something slammed behind him. He turned.
Derek was crouching on the ground a little ways behind him. He stared at Avery, wide-eyed. He looked nervous. He looked young.
“Who—” Derek’s voice was raspy. “Who are you?”
Immediately, Avery knew.
“I’m A—”
“Avery.” Derek’s mouth seemed to be moving independently from his mind. “You’re Avery.”
Avery nodded, his throat tight.
He slowly, finally noticed the rest of his surroundings. They were both in a small, narrow cave. It was clearly human-made. It looked familiar. It looked like—
They were in Avery’s stripmine, the small one that he’d originally made in his world back when he was first starting to find his footing. Everything was his, down to the chest placed in the middle and the evenly spaced corridors.
How did he get here?
No, wait — how did Derek get here?
He glanced at Derek again, who was slumped on the stone floor next to the chest that Avery had placed in the middle of the cave. He was watching Avery with wide, panicked eyes, like Avery was a ghost that he didn’t expect to see.
How did Derek handle him when he didn’t know anything about this world?
I’m not good at this, Avery thought faintly.
“Hey,” he said, slowly. “How did you get here?”
Derek shook his head. “A gate,” he said. “With yellow doors.” He blinked at Avery, some of that steely determination coming into his eyes again. “I shouldn’t have gone through them.”
“No,” Avery said forcefully, surprising himself, then he winced. “Maybe. But I’m glad you did.”
“It’s so much,” Derek muttered to himself, a hand rising to touch his forehead. He shook his head slightly then bent down to grasp his helmet, hefting it in his hands. Avery watched him put the golden armor on with a swelling, aching feeling in his chest. “Right. Are you coming with me?”
“No,” Avery said again. This time, the word hurt.
Derek smiled slightly. He looked young, slightly dazed. Avery swallowed and reached out, extending his hand.
“I don’t know where you have to go,” he said. “But whatever you do, keep going forward.”
Derek nodded, then reached out and grasped Avery’s hand.
Avery’s fingers closed around nothing. He steeled himself, waiting for the flicker of light and for the world to dissolve.
Nothing happened.
Derek was gone.
Avery was still in his cave.
Well, he was still there, but it was different — there was a fine layer of dust over everything. The torches had burned out. The lock on the chest was slightly rusted. Time had passed.
Avery, carefully, walked over to the chest and opened the lid.
The contents were the same as when he last remembered them — an assortment of ores, sticks, coal. There was also a small book that he didn’t put there.
He took it out and flipped to the first page.
Shaky hands had scrawled only one short sentence over the paper. Figures that the beginning for me is the ending for you, Avery.
Avery laughed, wetly.
There was a soft shuffling sound. He turned.
Derek was silhouetted in the entrance to his mine. He looked impossibly human, real and present. He looked at Avery like he was coming home.
“Hey,” Avery said, breathless.
The corner of Derek’s mouth lifted. “Hey.”
Avery laughed nervously. He lifted the book. “Did you even know what you were writing when you put this here?”
“No,” Derek said, coming down the steps. His helmet was tucked underneath his arm — battered, rough, but still there. He still hadn’t cleaned the dirt from the moss off the ridges. “Honestly, the first — and only time — I went through the doors everything was a blur. I wasn’t aware of what I was doing until I saw you the first time. Here.”
“Like when I read the book,” Avery repeated. Then, he jerked his gaze up to meet Derek, who was already grinning. “We can talk!”
“Yes,” Derek said simply.
“Does that mean—”
Derek’s grin split his face, nervous but also earnest, and he nodded.
Avery threw the book aside and launched himself at Derek.
He caught Avery with a grunt, staggering backward to accommodate his weight, but still was there. Avery pressed his face into the warm crook of Derek’s neck, nosing up against the hair growing in that tender junction, and laughed again. This time he could feel — he could feel! — Derek laugh against his body.
Avery pulled away. This close, he could see the glint in Derek’s eyes. “You’re really here?”
“Yes,” Derek confirmed.
“Wow,” Avery breathed. Then, “How do you know?”
“Well, first, you know my name,” Derek explained. His voice was already starting to slip into that self-assured cadence that Avery had always been entranced by. “I learned early on that there was something about that world — those worlds — that prevented me from telling you where I was. I’d given you my name early on, but I later realized that I’d have to create another marker for me to identify which point at your journey I’d be seeing you.”
“Derek and then Derlord,” Avery said. He’d figured as much, but much later than Derek had. “What would your third name be if we had to get there?”
“My last name?” Derek shrugged. “Hutchins.”
“Hutchins,” Avery repeated. Then, he remembered the last conversation — the one that was minutes ago for him, but a long time for Derek. “But wait. You told me your name but I never told you mine.”
Derek’s gaze grew thoughtful. “I knew you before I met you. I just couldn’t speak about it. The king in yellow’s power, I think.”
“The king in yellow,” Avery repeated, fighting a shudder. He remembered that strange world, its insistence, its power. “Yellow because of the gates?”
Derek snorted. “The gates are yellow because of him.”
“Make sense,” Avery mumbled.
Derek nodded. “It’s older and more powerful than we could imagine, and it rules that world. I stumbled into it by accident. I think it was looking for you but got me instead. Coincidence. It had to open up gates to bring you in,” he continued, “But the incompatibility of my existence in the world would send you back whenever you interacted with me.”
Avery realized he was still holding onto Derek, almost wrapped around him. The only thing that kept him from moving away out of embarrassment was the sensation of someone’s arms wrapped over his own shoulders, keeping him anchored close.
If Derek didn’t want to let go, then there was probably no need for Avery to do the same.
“So that world,” Avery said. “The last one. That was the king?”
Derek stiffened. “Yes,” he said shortly. Then he peered at Avery. “I think you and I experienced that world differently. Maybe because I went through that first door, the one that was meant for you. I could hear and see the king. I knew what it wanted. I knew you.”
Avery thought of the terrible fear that had gripped him when he had accepted the king’s proposal. Oh.
“I’m not apologizing,” he said shortly.
Derek regarded him with fondness. “I know. Maybe I should let you come up with plans more often, you’re not bad at them yourself.”
“Uh.” Avery blinked. “What plan?”
Derek pulled away slightly, his arms slipping away from Avery’s body. He stared at Avery, intent. “Did you not know?”
“I couldn’t let the king take you,” Avery said. “So I let it in. That’s all.”
Derek blew out a breath. “You really didn’t plan that,” he said, almost to himself.
“No,” Avery repeated. Nervousness stole through him. “Why, what happened?”
“After the king entered your body,” Derek said slowly, “I think that when we touched there was feedback between us of some kind, the same kind that sent you home.” He glanced at Avery. “When you took my hand the king existed between two hosts. Both of us shared its power equally. I made it destroy itself.”
“Wow,” Avery said. All he could think of was, “You’re incredible.”
“I couldn’t do it without you,” Derek said seriously. “You carried the king alone, in your mind. I was only able to control it because you were able to break through and share the power with me. I don’t know how you were able to fight it enough to let me in. Especially if,” and he shook his head this time, “You didn’t plan on that.”
Avery shrugged. “I’m not really a planning kind of guy.” I just wanted to reach you one last time.
Derek huffed out a breath. “I like that about you,” he said easily.
Warmth spread through Avery, slowly, like sun breaking through the clouds. He had one more question, lingering in the back of his mind. “Why did you save me? If you knew the king wanted me and not you. You could’ve gotten out.”
Derek looked at him, intense and focused. Avery fought the urge to fidget under his gaze, pinned under the weight of his attention.
“Because, Avery,” Derek said seriously, “You are special.”
Avery opened his mouth to protest, but Derek continued. “You are brave and smart and one of the most genuine people I know. You have a good heart. You barely knew me and you did everything you could to save me. You came back for me. I think,” and he drew in a breath, “I think you are one of the best people in the world.”
Distantly, Avery was aware of his face heating up. Some indescribable feeling was ballooning in his ribcage, terrified and earnest and warm. He felt like he was floating.
“That can’t be true,” he said weakly.
Derek regarded him.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Avery swayed towards him, helplessly. When he tilted his chin up, Derek met him halfway.
Derek’s mouth was warm. His lips were slightly chapped. For a brief, wonderful eternity, he was all that Avery could feel — wrapped around him, on his skin, in his lungs.
When Avery finally pulled away, Derek leaned in, chasing him. It was the easiest thing in the world to give into the urge to kiss him again.
Avery pressed his forehead against Derek’s. They breathed together, in sync, sharing air.
“What now?” Avery asked quietly.
Derek huffed. “Well, you said you would bake for me.”
Avery snorted then laughed, tangling his fingers in Derek’s, who looked unspeakably pleased with himself.
Together, hands linked, they walked out of the cave and into the light.