110

 

110.  Psycho Kineses

 

Frank Arazia seethed.

 

His heart had been crushed when Tao and Sasuke were murdered. His hope had been destroyed when Grayson imprisoned him, then took Ed off to who knew where. Now, Frank sat in a basement chamber, again the chewtoy in one of Grayson's sadistic games. But, Grayson seemed to be busy with other things right now. In fact, many hours of silence had passed since he was initially thrown in here. All the while, Frank grew hungrier and more impatient, too tired to even dread the long wait before his inevitable fate.

 

And so, Frank wandered the recesses of his mind. He remembered the the otherworldly sensation that had surged through his body when Sasuke awoke him from his trace. He remembered what Tao and Sasuke had spoken of, and wondered who would be left to carry on the fight once he perished. Despite all the horrors, and despite how broken he felt, a fire still burned within Frank, and he desperately searched for some sort of hope.

 

Frank thought of what he had seen Vance do. He thought of Naomi, of the young boy named Nathan, and again, that feeling that had surged through his body when Sasuke had sent his psynergy through him.

 

Then, after many hours, it finally happened. Frank couldn't believe it, but he knew that what he was seeing was no illusion. In the blink of an eye, his body had moved from its position behind the metal clamps that held him in place. He stood in front of them, utterly free.

 

All of sudden, it felt like second nature – like he had merely chosen to shift it into a higher position. As long as he concentrated and ignored that incessant pounding in his head, he felt like he could move wherever he wanted.

 

Sasuke really did save us back there. He gave us a chance to turn everything around.

 

Swishing a dark grey aura around his body, Frank flung the door open and stepped out into the basement of the Zexaron building. After all that had happened, he was right back where he started. The next step was to find Ed.

 

I know I'll find him eventually...and I'll free him, no matter what binds him.

 

Empowered, Frank marched back up to the lobby. Just like any other day, Janet and Marianne sat behind the front desk, and each greeted him with a wave. Frank had only begun walking when someone called to him.

 

"Well, if it isn't Frank Arazia!"

 

Frank turned to see Todd Zalone, a site manager, walking down the stairs to the lobby. He had short blond hair and an even shorter mustache.

 

"What are you doing here?" Todd said with a smile. "I thought you were in Houston!"

 

"Houston?" Frank asked suddenly, but quickly caught on and straightened his face out. "I came to pick something up."

 

"You're kidding me!" Todd laughed. "We could've just sent it to you, man!"

 

Frank ran a shaky hand through his hair. "It's, uh...sensitive. Besides, I missed old Bako."

 

"Well, at any rate, it's good to see you," Todd said, giving Frank a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Is your family adjusting to the move well? And old Ed, he must be so busy right now, how's he been?"

 

"Fine," Frank grit his teeth and desperately tried to keep his cool. "Just fine. Sorry to cut this short, Todd, but I have to get going. I have a lot to catch up on."

 

"Sure thing," Todd said. "Hey, we're all going down to Buffalo Wild Wings tonight, if you wanna join us! I'm sure everyone'd be happy to say hi to you!"

 

"Sounds fun," Frank forced out, as he quickly walked up to the elevator. "I'll let you know."

 

Frank stepped inside the elevator, letting it swallow him

 

*************

 

into Wendyland. In the next moment, Vance found himself somehow suspended over his body, disembodied in space. No matter how he tried to turn his head, it felt impossible. He was fixated, a ghost attached to an invisible wall.

 

Vance looked down to see his body floating in a sea of neon, intertwined with fuschia lightning crackles and strange plasma swimming through it. Strewn across the expanse was a vast collection of objects such as weapons, food, and trees. Bleached-white bones decorated the gaps between the objects like flowers.

 

There was no sky in Wendyland, nor was there any land. The neon plasma stream simply carried on forever, surrounded by a shield of blue static, accompanied by an eerie churning sound. And that would all be fine, if only Vance could lift a finger.

 

What the hell happened to me?

 

A high-pitched voice rang through the Albavitrean's consciousness. "I separated your soul from your body."

 

Had Vance possessed arms or a head, he certainly would have thrown his hands over his ears.

 

"You can't see me," the voice chimed again. "But I guess it'll be easier to converse, so I'll go ahead and create a corporeal form for you."

 

A small doll phased into existence before Vance. It was raggedy, with two black pigtails and a badly-stitched face on dirtied cloth. The doll was clad in a black overbust corset and a frilly black skirt.

 

"I'm Wendy's subconscious." The doll acted out a neat bow in mid-air. "Nice to meet you."

 

"What did you do to me?!" Vance screamed. "Put me back in my body!"

 

"I don't think that's a good idea." The doll shook its head. "Wendyland is only a pocket dimension, so it can't sustain life. You'll die."

 

"I'll break out of here before that," Vance insisted. "How did you even separate me, anyway? Is this another part of Wendy's power?"

 

"All objects swallowed up into Wendyland are under my jurisdiction," the doll explained. "I can disassemble and mix them as Wendy and I please. Since this dimension is entirely supported by Wendy herself, there isn't anything she can't do."

 

"So then she can open up a door and let me out!"

 

"Yes, I suppose she could." Wendy's subconscious cocked its head. "But that would defeat the purpose of your training, wouldn't it?"

 

"I know, I know..." Vance sighed. "She wants me to cut my way out of here. I get it."

 

"Wendyland is composed of psynergy, which means that if you wanted to break out of it, you'd have to possess an aura greater than the entire scope of the dimension. It doesn't look like that's the case, so your only hope is to cut a way out through space itself, using metapsynergy."

 

"Thanks for the tip." Vance snorted. "Can I go now?"

 

"No." The doll's face was expressionless, but the voice sounded sharp.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Being Wendy's subconscious, I am a manifestation of her strongest desires, without any rationality to hold me back. That includes her desire for you to succeed in your training, as well as the desire to have you all to herself."

 

Vance glanced down at his body, then back on the doll, whose stitched-up face seemed far more threatening now.

 

"You're not leaving," Wendy's mind declared. "You're gonna stay here and love me forever!"

 

"Gimme a break!" Vance groaned. "Just stick me back in my body, now, Wendy! I'm serious!"

 

"No," the voice echoed. "I'm not letting you go, Vance."

 

"I can't even move around here, can I? What use is there in keeping me here?"

 

"You'll be safe. Forever," the voice shimmered. "I just want us to be together forever, Vance. You understand, don't you? This is the only way. We can talk to each other and enjoy ourselves... forever."

 

"Please, Wendy!" Vance screamed. "I don't want to stay here! I don't care how much you love me, I'll hate you for this!"

 

"You will love me, Vance," the voice seared. "I'll make you love me, if it's the last thing you do."

 

Moments of silence followed. The doll continued to stare down at Vance with its beady eyes.

 

"Alright, I won't argue anymore," he said, letting out a sigh. "I'm tired of fighting. As long as you can promise me it'll be fun..."

 

"Oh, it'll be fun!" the voice assured him. "I told you I have complete control over this dimension, remember? There's nothing you can imagine that I can't make happen. Vance, we can experience pleasures that no other human will ever be capable of feeling. We can make a life far better than anything we could find in reality. We can go anywhere we want, too!"

 

"You're right, Wendy," Vance said softly. "But you'll put me back in my body as long as I obey you, right? I mean...I won't be able to feel anything if I'm out of it, right?"

There was a long silence, and multiple times Vance heard a sharp screeching in the distant, invisible machinery.

 

"Fine, just as long as you promise to be nice to me and do what I say from here on out," the voice responded. "Is that a deal?"

 

"Of course."

 

Vance felt a yank, and soon his soul was sucked back into its vessel. Instantly, the Albavitrean jumped to his feet and closed his eyes. White wine psynergy surrounded his body, enclosing it like a vice.

 

"Okay, ready for our first game?" The doll swooped downwards. "We're going to have a tickle contest, Vance!"

 

No... Vance shook his head and tried to dig deeper into his memories. Remember what it felt like to slice through Saffron's blade...to open that void in Pandemonium. I know I can cut through this...I have to!

 

"Vance!" the voice shouted once more. "Here we go!"

 

"Shut up!" Vance screamed. "I'm trying to concentrate here!"

This did not go over well with his host, and the gears groaned angrily.

 

Vance felt his body and soul begin to separate, pulled apart by powerful pale yellow psynergy. In response, the Albavitrean's own aura raged, and in this pocket dimension, there was no psynergy vacuum to hold him back.

 

Slowly, the threads of space within Wendyland came into view. He could see them intertwined, like pieces of a puzzle, connecting and supporting the dimension. All he needed to do was pluck one and tear it apart.

 

The doll pulled at his soul, but Vance fought back. Cutting a bare palm across the neon expanse, he did not merely slice through the threads, but burned through them with his own energy, creating a void where there was once space.

 

Through the slit, Vance saw sunlight and grass. Deeper around the edges, Vance thought he saw another space, somewhere white that seemed to sit in-between the hole and Wendyland, but just as soon as he saw it, it was gone.

 

"Gyaaaarrrrgghhhh!"

 

A throttled voice mixed with tortured metal exploded through the young man's eardrums, instantly breaking his concentration. The temporal cut pulsated.

 

As Vance tried to inhale, he remembered there was no air to breathe in Wendyland. The screams continued, he began to panic, and his aura flickered.

 

Metapsynergy is about seeing... Vance hurriedly tried to regain his concentration. Seeing past mundane reality...to the metaphysical...

 

"Vaaaaaance!" The doll mutated into a glob as its panic heightened. "Don't leave me!"

Ignoring the pleas that continued to ricochet through his ears, Vance released a violet shockwave of psynergy, crackling against the limits of Wendy's pocket dimension. It felt as if his lungs were about to cave in, but he didn't even have time to worry. The only two things in his mind were the void and his pulsating right fist.

 

He heard a snap, followed by a shatter, a crash, and then a screech as information, memories and energy poured out from a hole in Wendy's mind. Riding at the head of her stream of consciousness, feeling stronger than he ever had before, was Vance Darcouver.

 

Bones, weapons, and other objects poured out of Wendy's body as she crumpled to the ground in the West Virginia woods. Finally, when it felt as if the wave had passed and there was nothing but silence within, she lifted her neck and looked upwards.

 

Standing above her midst the debris with his arms crossed over his chest was Vance. Nothing had changed about his appearance, but his aura felt completely different. It was no longer recklessly blazing, but condensed and wrapped tightly around his body, so organized it almost felt sinister.

 

"Vance..." Wendy gave him a relieved smile as she rose to her feet. "I always knew you could do it, babe. It's funny, though...I think some part of me really did want to keep you in there forever."

 

Vance kept his eyes focused on Wendy as volatile psynergy snarled at his fingertips. For a moment, he simply stood there, studying her, wondering if the two of them could ever see eye to eye the way he eventually experienced with Eden. Goosebumps ran up his arms as a soft breeze

 

*************

 

slipped through her orange hair and tickled the back of her neck. As she followed Zeigfried out of the stairways that led to the top of the chapel, Eden looked up to see red light piercing the evening clouds as the sun began its descent over the western sky. They were so high up now, and she could only see the tips of other spires buried within fluffy clouds. Drifting out from another nearby chapel were the muffled, ghostly voices of a choir, soaring shrill and taut over the organs beneath.

 

Despite the sun's retiring, a muggy, hot air lingered behind. It was an oppressive heat that washed over the lush flora decorating the open air garden into which Eden had been led by Zeigfried. In the center sat a massive white cross, piercing the clouds. Surrounding it stood elderberry trees, shrouding the amber pillars that encased the flora.

 

At the far end of the garden, a tall fresco had been painted over a tan wall with slitted windows that enclosed it. Eden studied the beautiful woman in robes with a sorrowful expression on her face. Her longing eyes pointed upward, away from the child nestled in her bosom.

 

"Mother Malia," Zeigfried spoke calmly. "The virgin mother who gave birth to you."

 

Eden spun around to face him then, shock taut over her face. "You know how I was born?"

 

"The scripture taught us," Zeigfried continued. "After your older brother was captured an crucified for trying to spread the word of God, He sent you down to continue the task. But this time, right after your mother gave birth to you, they murdered her, kidnapped you, and imprisoned you in a place that kept you hidden for centuries."

 

Eden could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to the tale. "They...? You mean..."

"The Albavitreans," Zeigfried spat, piercing her with his pale blue eye. "They probably would have killed you too, had it been in their power. But God's love was greater than all of them, and kept you safe until we found you."

 

"Until...Victoria found me, right?" Eden ventured.

 

"Yes. She offered to cooperate with us, in the name of peace, for the greater good." Zeigfred's right cheek began to twitch as he went on. "But she too betrayed us in the end, and stole you away from us again, just like her ancestors."

 

"Victoria helped to raise me," Eden said firmly. No tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice did not shake. She looked up to Zeigfried with powerful eyes. "She was always there for me."

 

"God has always watched over you," Zeigfried countered. "But I understand how you may be very confused due to your upbringing, and the recent events proceeding our meeting. But now, Eden, you are free to speak with him. We encourage you to ask God all the questions you may have, for he has all the answers."

 

As Zeigfried said 'we,' Eden noticed other figures step out from the pillars that surrounded the garden. The first thing she noticed was that she could sense none of their auras, and that frightened her.

 

"Mother Angelica Abdullah Fabiola," Zeigfried said, motioning to a tall woman with lightly tanned skin, long, curly blonde hair and a warm, motherly smile. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Charity. She spent the past days tending to your wounds."

 

"It was my honor," Angelica said softly, as she walked up in a plain white and black nun's habit. "God bless you, Eden."

 

"Mother Rachel Ezra Gehazi," Zeigfried continued, motioning to a short, portly woman with short black hair, olive skin, and small almond-shaped eyes. She wore a similar nun's habit, except hers had a large white hat shaped like an upside-down triangle. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Temperance. She spent the past days caring for you."

 

Rachel clasped her hands together as she looked upon Eden. "Praise be God. You're finally home, my dear."

 

"Father Jonah Adel Walker." This time, Zeigfried gestured toward a tall, lanky man with curly ginger hair and a large, bristly beard. He wore a thin linen dress shirt with a priest's collar coupled with black suspenders and slacks. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Forgiveness. Since the day you returned to us, Eden, he's been giving daily sermons to the people about the importance of your homecoming."

 

Jonah smiled and lowered his large jaw. "Praise be to the lord! It's mighty nice to see your face at last, Miss Eden."

 

"Mother Jezebel Sarai Kielruth," Zeigfried proclaimed, motioning behind Eden to a muscular woman with ebony skin and a voluminous afro. Jezebel's uniform was stark white with thin blue lining and small blue buttons that ran down the center. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Kindness. She bathed you every day unlike you awoke."

 

"You're just as beautiful as they said you'd be," she said, walking forward to join the circle. "And I can see our God has blessed you with great power as well."

 

"Father Jebediah Zechariah Tubalcain," Zeigfried did not miss a beat, this time gesturing over to a muscular man with dark skin dressed in a black cassock with a thick, crimson band of silk wrapped around his waist. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Diligence. He worked without rest to build your bedchamber in preparation for your return."

 

"She is risen," he said quietly, beaming. "She is risen indeed."

 

"Father Vincentius Israfel Emmanuel," Zeigfried continued, smiling as he raised his palm toward the final member of the circle. "Apostle of the Sanctuary of Humility. He led the choirs that have been singing songs of praise, thanking God for returning you to us."

 

When Eden set eyes on the last apostle, she was first struck by how young he seemed to be – he looked to be in his late teens, or maybe his early 20s. He had long, straight blond hair that went down to his shoulders, pale skin, and an athletic physique. When her eyes came to a rest on his face, however, her heart jump into her throat, and she froze. His jawline and the shape of his nose looked so familiar, and there was no mistaking those monochrome eyes.

 

"Hello, Eden," he said calmly, regarding her as if she was an old friend. "You can call me Vince."

Next: The Answer