Chapter Two

I bask in it, I breathe it in, like I’ve been held underwater too long and have finally come back up for air.

I’ve never been at the centre of a collective like this before, and I feel its influence rising, that endless well of energy flooding in from the people around me.

But the noise fades suddenly, jarring to an unnatural holt.

I’m slow to react, my mind still swollen by the thrill I was feeling moments before. But my senses come back in a rush of panic. The crowd has a look of fevered excitement on their faces, and their eyes are focused on something behind me.

I make a mad leap to the side, instinct taking over, but it is a fraction of a second too late. Giant hands come crashing down and catch me around the shoulders before I can escape. The giant squeezes hard, I cry out in pain and the crowd cries out in pleasure, thrilled that the fight goes on. He lifts me off the ground and brings me in close.

‘That was a very stupid thing to do,’ He says, softly enough that only I can hear. His voice is filled with rage.

It’s hard to breathe with his grip on me, crushing me from the sides, but I exhale out the words, ‘not as stupid as bring me this close,’ I say. Then I burst into flames.

I hold nothing back, I cover myself in fire and half focus, half pray that I can keep the heat moving away from my body. The giant roars in shock and drops me instinctively. I take my chance and sprint off to the side, away from the giant’s reach. I let the flames die and I’m relieved to see that my body is more or less intact, a few light burns seem to be all that’s left to show for it. But the feeling is very short lived, the giant has recovered, and the look of fury in his eyes sends a very clear signal shooting through my body; that I am deeply, instinctively, afraid.

The crowd roars, my heart thunders, and the giant attacks, lunging forward with a speed and strength that shocks me to my core. Through the fear and the panic my mind makes a choice.

I run.

Dodging and weaving I stay out of reach, but only just. I race across the edge of the stage, hands the size of my torso snapping shut around me, so close I can feel the rush of air on my skin. I turn to make a break back towards the centre of the platform, trying to buy myself some more time. When out of nothing and from nowhere, a wall of rock materialises a few steps ahead of me. I can’t stop, not at this speed. The wall, solid and unforgiving, rushes in. I don’t change course, I hurl myself at it, curling my body up tightly, willing it to harden into steel, smashing into the rock like a cannonball. I shoot straight through the wall onto the other side, leaving an almost perfect circle in the thick stone behind me.I untuck my body and land running. I’m in shock. That should not have been possible and I know it. It was desperation, not a plan, and it should have failed like most desperate actions do.

The giant smashes into his own creation and rocks fly hazardously across the room, as the wall comes crashing down. He stumbles and falls from the impact, catching himself on his hands and knees over the rubble splayed out across the centre of the stage. The crowd is ecstatic. Shouts and laughter, and screams for more, echo out across the room, blending and blurring until it all seems to become one, a single sound. As the giant struggles to regain his footing, I realise. The tide is waning, the mood shifting, and the people are beginning to want me to win more than they do him.

I stop running. It has never really been my style anyway. And I can feel it now, the change I was too distracted to notice has seeped into my body and mind. This collective has its eyes locked on me, and I am impressing them. The man gets back to his feet, and I look right at him. I smile to myself, they haven’t seen anything yet.

The man seems to have gotten smaller again, though he is still a giant compared to me. He looks at me now with something new in his eyes. It’s the look of someone who has just realised they’ve made a mistake, and it is going to cost them.

I can’t help myself, I taunt him. ‘What’s wrong, you didn’t think I’d stay a little girl forever did you?’ My eyes are wide and my voice soft. The insult is clear. I lift up my right hand, showing him my newest creation, one that I made while I was speaking. I hold the knife threateningly, it looks lethal and unkind. Roughly shaped, it seems more like a tooth or claw than something man-made.

The giant grits his teeth, and makes a growling sound like all creatures do when threatened. It sends a clear message, that a predator doesn’t turn into prey just because a victim decides to fight back.

I take a step forward. So does he. Then I’m running, and he’s running, and the crowd’s cheering us on with enthralling passion, and we clash like lightning striking earth.

I leap towards his throat, my knife poised for the blow. His hand catches my wrist, as I knew it would. I follow through with my feet, kicking out in mid air with deadly precision. They strike right above the chest plate, and the man lets me go to clutch at his throat in pain. I drop to the floor in front of him. I’m still well under half his height, so I slash out at his legs, placing deep cuts across his thighs.

He jumps back reactively, the disbelief clear in his eyes. I don’t give him any chance to recover, I press the attack, leaping upwards with blurring speed. He raises an arm to defend himself, it is as thick as I am so it does the job remarkably well and I am forced to bring my knife down on his forearm instead of his body. It sinks deep into the flesh, missing the bone and protruding out the other side. And then I see his face, staring at mine over the top of his impaled arm. And it is my turn to realise I’ve made a mistake.

Before I have time to move, before the momentum of my attack has even come to rest, the man has me trapped. I am frozen in place, my hand locked to the hilt of my knife, and my knife locked onto him. The feeling that comes over me is one I have felt before. It is of hollowness and death, and I know what he is about to do. The man looks at me with eyes that seem far too calm. He draws from the most destructive part of human nature, and he starts to consume.

It feels like losing your mind, painfully, piece by piece as you are torn apart one quantum particle at a time.

I don’t scream, it is far too horrible a feeling for that. I writhe in silent agony and my feet kick feebly at the man’s body. I watch as the knife in my hand slowly begins to blend with the arm it has pierced, the metal seeming to morph into flesh. The change appears quickly, like it is happening all at once. But I know the true complexity of it, the intricate rearrangement of atoms as they break apart and are shifted from one state into another. Consumed from within.

Through the pain and the panic I grasp at what little thought I can manage. He’s insane, I tell myself with absolute certainty. Consuming other matter is beyond dangerous, one lapse in focus, one moment of doubt and you can be left horribly disfigured, with death usually not too far behind. It plays a part in creation the same way that darkness plays a part in the existence of light, but it is a thing of malice and corruption, and only a desperate man would try to consume another living person.

Deep within my dying mind, I hear her voice, rasping and strained as it always is when she’s angry: give him what he wants! he’ll kill you otherwise. Just give him what he wants.

The words rattle around in my head, shaking loose the parts of me that were hiding from the pain. I know she’s right and I know what I have to do. If he wants to consume me then I will let him. But I will not give him all of me.

The knife is gone, dissolved into the man’s forearm and the hand I held it with is slowly following, blending into his flesh. It is a grotesque sight, sickening, and unnatural. I do what I know I must. I start slowly at first, easing myself into that familiar feeling. What I create is not a reflection or a copy. It is regeneration.

I start around my fingers, the ones half buried in the man’s arm. And then I expand it across every part of me, every aspect, every particle. I wear it as a shield, and as the man consumes me I create more of myself in its place. Relief begins to dull the panic, and the pain begins to fade. Piece by piece I start putting myself back together.

It is only now that I notice the noise of the crowd. I had forgotten they were there, I had forgotten everything beyond the fear and the pain, but with my head clearing my senses return and the rest of the world comes rushing back into focus. The crowd is in chaos. Watching the man try to consume me has pushed them over the edge, and the simmering pool has finally erupted. Fighting has broken out all through the room, a riot of immense scale, aided by creations and fueled by the rift between those on my side and those on his.

On the platform, I stand locked with the man in a bitter struggle. Our eyes meet again, and though it goes unspoken, we both know it’s true. This fight is not over yet.

The only thing I can do is hold on. My strategy relies, simply, on there being a limit to how much the man can consume all at once. It is an abstract limit, depending on concentration and force of mind, but it’s a limit nonetheless. And all I have to do is have a greater limit than he does. It becomes a race, with my life in the balance. The man seems like an endless void, consuming faster and faster, a ravenous beast with a strength of mind I would not have thought possible. I feel like a flame in the wind, fighting to stay alight, and always on the verge of being extinguished.

This isn’t fair, I hear myself say. Consuming is primal, as natural as anything gets. Regeneration takes purpose. You don’t get to just focus on what you want, you have to accept all the things you never wanted as well. I start to panic, a flame about to burn out, eaten alive by the storm. I am consumed and I regenerate, and each moment that passes is another chance for me to lose myself. I can feel doubt clouding the edges of my mind. The more doubt that gets in, the harder it becomes. I can’t keep this up. This needs to end soon. And then I see something both frightening and serene, the man’s face contorts, his eyes roll back, and I witness the moment he loses control, as he finally, mercifully, breaks.

It’s over suddenly. The man drops backwards in an agonised faint. I feel myself released from his hold and drop back to the ground. My feet catch me, but I am not sure how. My mind is elsewhere, far from the stage and the man and the crowd. All of the force, the pressure and the strain is suddenly released, and I’m not ready, not sure how anyone can be ready, to switch it off again. I know I must stop, I know it must end, and I struggle with my mind, desperately trying to pull it back from the brink.

--- When it finally settles, it feels like walking out of darkness and into somewhere far too bright; Disorienting, my senses taking far too long to adjust.

I’m standing on the stage, frozen in place. My body feels like one giant nerve, sensitive and exposed. My mind is exhausted, in the most alert way possible, and it takes me a fair few moments to fully take in the scene around me.

The man lays unconscious on the floor, the size of a regular person once more. I turn and face the crowd. They are a sea of faces and moving bodies, back to screaming and cheering as one. I keep my eyes on the people, as my mind finishes adjusting and the world comes flooding back into focus. And then I see her, standing near the front of the crowd.

She doesn’t draw attention in an obvious way, but neither does she blend in. Her hair is crimson, and her eyes are pale like frost. She looks familiar but not recognisable, like when you dream about someone you know well but they appear different somehow, distorted and strange.

The crowd ebbs and sways, every person in it moving in one way or another. Everyone but her. She is silent and still, an island surrounded by a raging sea. Once I notice her I can’t seem to look away, and judging by the way she stares back at me, neither can she.

The night seems to move forward without my noticing. The collective belongs to me now and I turn it into a celebration of reckless desire and carnal creation. But my mind never strays far from her.

--- I wake up smoothly. No jarring holt or confusing lethargy, one minute I’m asleep and the next I’m awake, comfortable, and at peace.

Well that’s new, I laugh to myself, amused at how strange I find the feeling. I turn to the person lying next to me. Without her pale eyes looking back at mine the girl seems different somehow, more delicate. She looks peaceful, and I smile knowing that my feelings this morning are shared. It is a while before she stirs, I move in response, letting her know I am awake as well. Our eyes meet and we both smile bashfully, an impulse I don’t usually feel, but one I find myself quite enjoying.

‘Good morning,’ I say, before quickly wishing I had said something better.

She laughs like she has read my mind, ‘it is a good morning though, isn’t it, like better than normal?’

It’s my turn to laugh, ‘just a little better,’ I reply, before leaning over and kissing her. It’s soft and simple and lingers for quite some time. I enjoy it more than I let myself admit. We break apart. She is laying on her side, the bed sheets draped low over her hips, revealing much of her. I pull the sheets off myself and reveal even more. We move up against each other and, though we are definitely not silent, we don’t speak another word for quite some time.

A while later we are sitting on my bedroom floor, a soft rug that was never there until just this morning keeps us comfortable. I create food and drink as well, and we eat and talk and it feels so strange but I don’t let myself think about it, not right now, not with her.

‘How do you get the fruit so perfect?’ She asks, eating the blueberries I created with half closed eyes and meticulous bites.

‘It’s easy,’ I lie, ‘you just have to believe they’re tastier than they actually are.’ She laughs and I feel elated that I caused it.

‘You’re not how I thought you would be,’ she says, her voice light and curious. I immediately feel nervous. She sees right through me, how could she not?

I do my best to keep my voice as calm as hers, ‘what were you expecting?’

‘I didn’t expect anything. It’s just, now that we’re here, I don’t know, nothing is really how I thought it would be.’ She trails off and looks down shyly. I don’t know what to say, so I let the silence drag on. It’s unpleasant, but it feels safer than saying the wrong thing.

‘Last night, when I saw you on stage, you looked…’ She is clearly struggling to find the right words, but I can already guess them. Like a monster, and a broken thing.

‘Like magic,’ she says, quickly looking up at me.

Now I really don’t know what to say.

‘Because you seemed so small, and that man on the floor so massive, but everyone was looking at you like that wasn’t true at all and like you were the bigger one, and then it kind of became true didn’t it, and how you looked didn’t matter anymore because it was more about how everyone saw you. How I saw you...’ She trails off again, but she doesn’t look away.

‘You weren’t afraid, or anything?’ I ask, so softly a part of me hopes she doesn’t hear.

‘What? of you?’ She looks half amused and half shocked, ‘didn’t you see the crowd? They loved you, and I…’ She freezes. I help her out, leaning forwards and kissing her, forcefully. We fall back onto the rug together. When our lips break apart, our bodies stay embraced, neither of us making a move to separate further.

‘I don’t even know your name,’ I say in a whisper. She laughs.

‘And I don’t know yours.’

‘It’s Solis.’

She pulls me tighter against her, hesitating for a moment before replying. ‘My name’s Blue.’

‘Blue?’ I repeat back without thinking.

‘Like the berries,’ she says with a grin.

I smile back. ‘It suits you, you taste just like them.’ We kiss again.

--- Iver looks unhappy. He’s sitting in one of the gardens near the river that runs through the centre of the city. We’ve been here before, it’s one of our usual haunts. When he sees me approaching he quickly smiles in his casually confident way. But the normal ease in which he manages it isn’t there. He notices Blue, and his smile becomes even less genuine.

‘Gotta tell you Solis, last night, that was really something,’ he says.

‘Yeah well, what can I say, I like it when things get out of hand.’

‘No doubt about it.’ He looks over at Blue, ‘you were there last night weren’t you.’ It wasn’t really a question, and Blue doesn’t give much of an answer - a quick nod in agreement - and Iver turns back to me. ‘Well I hate to break up the fun but I really need to speak with you, alone Solis.’ His tone doesn’t sound too serious, but for someone like Iver, it is about as serious as it gets.

I turn to Blue, ‘give us a second would you?’

She gives me one of her grins. ‘Of course, I’ll be down by the water, come find me when you’re done,’ and with that she walks off, giving Iver a passing glance as she goes. We both watch her walk away.

‘Seriously Solis, not sure how you found that one but I’m definitely a little jealous,’ Iver says, his eyes still on Blue.

‘Do you watch me like that when I’m walking away from you?’ I ask accusingly.

‘Are you kidding? Every single time,’ he replies with a smile, and it is much more genuine than before. ‘Look, what happened last night, I’ve never seen anything like it. I have no idea how you beat Solomon but-‘

‘Solomon?’ I interrupt, ‘so that was his name, I got so wrapped up in it all I forgot to find out what happened to him.’

‘He’s fine, well I guess not exactly fine, he’s in some deep shit with the people who organised the collective, that’s actually what I need to talk to you about.’

‘Wait, I thought the Collective was his, this Solomon guy’s?’

Iver laughs, ‘Nah, Solomon isn’t the organising type, he’s just one of their creators, their best creator actually, well formally best now I suppose.’

I don’t like the look he gives me. ‘Spit it out Iver, what is it that you need to tell me?’

‘It’s kinda more what I need to show you,’ he says, ‘I’ve been asked to give you an invitation, I guess. The people, the ones who organised the collective, they want to meet you.’

I see it again, just as I did last night. There’s fear in Iver’s eyes, subtle and controlled, but definitely there.

‘This invitation, it’s not one of those things that can be politely declined by any chance is it?’

Iver laughs again, ‘No, it’s definitely not one of those. Just meet with them Solis, that’s all you have to do. You drew a lot of attention to yourself last night, more than I think you realise.’

I can feel my heartbeat quickening. I know that, whoever these people are, they’re dangerous. I also know they are the ones responsible for the best collective I’ve ever experienced, and that they could give it to me again. I look towards the river. There is a line of trees stretching along the bank. I can see Blue, walking slowly between them, in the direction of the setting sun.

‘Can I bring someone with me?’ I ask.

Iver follows my gaze. ‘Really Solis? I mean, it’s not like you to keep someone around more than a night, I should know.’ I shoot him a dangerous look. ‘But alright, she can come with us. A pretty thing like that’s gonna be welcome anywhere, even where we’re going.’

I don’t like his tone, but I know Blue is safe with me. And if I’m being honest, I feel a lot safer with her around too. It’s not something I fully understand, and I’m not sure I need to right now.

For now, just knowing it is enough.

--- ‘I don’t like this,’ Blue says again, and again I agree.

Iver has led us to the outskirts of the city. It’s deserted out here, and the buildings are in decay. People figured out a long time ago that survival meant staying in groups, close together. It’s easier to create with the help of others, and creation is how the world works now. Once things had started settling down again, most people went into the cities, living in close proximity and surviving in small collectives. Outside the cities, nature has claimed the world back.

‘I’ve told you, there’s nothing to worry about. Being afraid of the outskirts is irrational, it’s just another stupid idea left over from the early days. These people know better, and we should too.’

Blue and I look at each other.

‘We’re not afraid of the outskirts Iver, I just don’t understand why they need to be out here. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. These people must have a decent following to put on a collective like the one last night, they could have any location they wanted in the city, why come all the way out here?’

Iver sighs, ‘because Solis, the city means competition, with all those other collectives about, you know how they tend to get in each other’s way. Out here there’s none of that. Come on, we’re getting close now, you can ask them all the questions you want when you see them.’

The buildings around us become smaller and more widely spaced as we go. It feels less and less like a city, and more like a jungle with every minute that passes. Something tall and imposing rises up over the tops of the buildings and trees in front of us. As we get closer, I realise what it is I’m seeing.

It must have once been a stadium. I still have memories of watching games in similar places, years ago. But it has been changed; The walls are smooth, sheer stone with no clear entrance, and the ceiling is closed over with a dome of clouded glass.

‘How did they do this?’ Blue’s voice is full of awe.

‘Like I said, no competition out here,’ Iver replies simply.

By the time we make our way to the base of the stadium the sun is low on the horizon. It looks even more imposing from up close, but I can’t help but think there is something very beautiful about it, the smoothness of the dark stone walls, and the glinting light of the setting sun reflecting off the glass ceiling, makes it look more like a work of art than a building. I look over at Blue and can see by the way she is staring that I’m not the only one captivated. I walk closer to her. ‘Thanks - For coming with me, I mean,’ once again I feel myself wishing I had said something better.

She looks back at me, those pale eyes holding mine. ‘Where else was I going to go? Besides, I’m starting to think the best place a person can be is wherever you are Solis, I mean, look at this place.’

‘It’s really something, isn’t it,’ I reply.

‘That’s one way of putting it, yes,’ laughs Blue. ‘Although…’

‘Although what?’

‘It’s just, I’m not really sure how much use I’m going to be here Solis. I’ve kinda been wondering why you invited me at all if I’m being honest.’ She looks down nervously.

I take her hand in mine, mostly because I’m not really sure what else to do.

‘I invited you because I wanted you with me, simple as that,’ I say, as confidently as possible.

She smiles. It’s a weak smile but I still like that I made it happen.

Iver leads us around the stadium, the stone walls remaining completely sealed off until we reach a point on the far side of the structure. It must be the door, but it’s unlike any door I’ve ever seen, and it’s definitely not what I expected. It looks like a crack in the stone, streaking upwards like lightning from the base of the stadium, getting thinner and thinner until it ends about two thirds of the way up. Down here on the ground, the gap between the stone is wide enough for about six people to walk through it side by side. I try to look through it, but I can only make out a small way in before the view is obscured by shadow. Iver doesn’t break his stride, he walks straight into the opening and disappears into the darkness. Blue and I follow, a bit more hesitantly, but still only a few paces behind.

The opening stretches deep into the stadium and it feels like walking through a cave, our footsteps echo and there is an unmistakable feeling of being underground. But it is not long before I can see the light in front of us from the other side of the tunnel. I quicken my pace, instinct telling me that I do not want to be within these stone walls for longer than I have to. When we come out the other side, it is Blue who talks first, though I feel she does a fairly good job at summing up my own thoughts.

‘Where the hell are we?’ She asks, her voice sounds lost, like the words were spoken by accident.

‘It’s called the Firmament,’ says Iver, ‘named after the waters that divide the heavens from the earth. It suits it, don’t you think?’ I nod in agreement. It suits it perfectly. The ceiling is hundreds of feet above us and it shimmers with the refracted sunlight that shines through the glass dome. The glass is uneven, and set in strange shapes and patterns so that the overall effect is like looking up at the surface of the ocean, the light playing tricks with the mind so that it seems to move in a way that mimics the crashing of waves. But the effect of the glass dome doesn’t stop there. The refracted light travels down into the spherical stadium, simmering beams of sunlight dancing across everything it touches, making it seem like everything below the glass surface really is underwater. The walls around the inside of the stadium are made of the same dark stone, but they are littered with alcoves for viewing the underwater illusion.

‘You came just at the right time,’ A voice rings out, echoing off the walls, seeming to come from all around us. ‘The setting sun, I feel, creates the best illusion. Although, this dome will always appear as if deep beneath the waves, even in starlight. It’s all about varying the density of the glass, a complicated process to be sure, but a creation I am most proud of.’

The voice is monotonous, like a teacher with a talent for losing the audience’s attention. I look all around me, trying to find its source. But something else catches my gaze, and my heart misses a beat in panic. The wall behind us is solid and smooth, there is no trace of the opening we entered through. It’s been closed behind us.

The Firmament suddenly feels all too real, and the voice rings out once more, ‘Come now, there is still much to show you, the water’s surface may be a pleasant sight but it is nothing compared to what lies further down, in the deep.’