Chapter 55: Welcome to Penacony
*apparently Inkstone, the publishing platform, is down (or it just doesn t work for me) so I had to do a little something to post from my phone. Sorry if the quality is bullshi because of that. I hope it won t be the case. Also, to make something clear, the order of events I ll use for Penacony is on discord in detail, but know that it follows this: they went there, did stuff, got stuck in the dream, and the loop began anew with the in-game events. Just to clarify this. So yeah, take care, all of you. Peace out and Deus vult.*
Mark finished his coffee on time, taking more than usual. His way of drinking it was to straight up chug the whole thing, feeling the bitter aftertaste spread out along his tongue. It was something pleasant, but this time he had to prolong the moment. His thoughts were focused on the possibilities ahead, memories of a future he'd experienced once as an observer clashing with the present. The jump would lead to something—an important moment, for his mind wasn't revealing it in full.
"Everyone, are you ready?" asked March, sitting happily in her spot, ready for the planet of festivities. Pom-Pom went ahead with the countdown, and Mark stood there, arms crossed, waiting.
The moment he reached 'One', Mark found himself propelled through a swarm of memories, all of them chewing him up only to spit him out in a foreign room, together with Stelle. They looked at each other, trying to figure out where they were, only for someone to speak from the side. A tall woman, clad in purple, with an odachi resting on her hip. Her eyes seemed to pierce the air, despite the hints of warmth hidden beneath a dead exterior. She felt like a dying world, covered in darkness with a few spots where the sun still reached.
"Two this time?" she asked in a monotonous voice, crossing her arms.
Stelle and Mark stood up, exchanging some quick glances.
"Yeah, sorry to bother, but we just sort of got here one way or another," replied Mark, struggling to keep his head from breaking. The woman in front of him triggered so many things in his mind that even hoping to figure out something was putting a strain on him.
"Just come with me," she replied coldly, keeping her distance as her steps took her around.
"Who are you?" asked Stelle, struggling to understand the entire situation. The woman sighed, stopping in her tracks as she turned to face them both. Mark could feel a familiar something in her, as if something was tugging at his being.
"These questions... have no meaning. But I will answer you as best as I can: This is a border between reality and the Memory Zone, a... dreamscape."
Mark took notes of her words, feeling part of the strain on his mind ease. He was getting access to more information on the go, but focusing on that woman too much was still crushing his mind.
"Right this moment, you and I have coincidentally shared the same dreamscape and appeared in each other's minds. This is the Land of Dreams' inaugural welcome for us."
Hearing that their minds connected, Mark felt a cold shiver run down his spine. It was anything but good news. He looked around, seeing no trace of the shadows that plagued his mind. Hopefully his wasn't connected all that deep.
"Worry not, for very quickly you will awaken from this dream, forget everything that has transpired, with naught but a faint lingering of loss," she added, looking over to Mark, studying him a touch too carefully.
"Yeah, well, lady, I don't plan on forgetting. My mind is a bit too... tough for that."
She closed her eyes, scoffing slightly, but otherwise gave no reaction. Stelle was listening intently, still trying to accustom herself to the place. The woman turned around, looking at them over her shoulder.
"Come with me. I'll take you home."
Having no other choice, both Mark and Stelle followed, walking closely. Mark's eyes were fixed on her sword, studying it carefully. Stelle whispered.
"Mark, just what is going on? This all feels so weird."
He shrugged, glancing sideways at her.
"Well, don't worry, it'll be fine. Just stay behind me, alright? My gut is telling me nothing good."
Walking along the hall, the woman spoke, turning to face them slightly.
"Galaxy Ranger, Acheron... This is what they call me. You can call me whatever you want."
Mark nodded, the name striking a nail in his head, stuttering his steps for a moment.
"I'm Stelle, and he's Mark. We're with the Astral Express."
The introductions were short, and both glanced at Mark as he faked his steps for a moment. They stood before a large door, the likes of which he had never seen before in reality but knew all too well from the game.
"Open this door. Take a look at the mesmerizing dreamscape while you can still remember."
The doors opened with a warp, vanishing in a twirling light. Inside, Mark looked around the halls, while Stelle seemed a bit shocked by the sight. She recalled something, that's what Mark's mind was telling him.
Acheron kept walking ahead, urging them to follow. She began climbing on the wall after walking on a weird yellow substance that went up the wall like a ramp.
"On we go, Stelle," chuckled Mark as he began walking on the walls as well, stepping with no fear. He was used to dreams being crazy, so doing something as mundane as walking on a wall was no issue.
"How is this possible?" thought Stelle, following the two with reluctant steps.
"Why not?" asked Acheron.
"It's a dream, right? You can do fancy stuff in here. I wonder if I could do things like in a lucid dream," said Mark, looking around as he jumped, testing to see if he'd fall to the ground.
"They can hear my thoughts!" thought Stelle, to which Mark laughed. Acheron nearly had a smile on.
"Why not?" she asked again.
Walking on the walls led to them standing on the ceiling, or perhaps the floor. The sight was odd, tinged with deja vu. It weighed heavily on him.
"We're almost there. Can you still walk?" asked Acheron, looking at the two of them. Mark was busy testing if he could fly like in a lucid dream, doing his best to just detach himself from the ground, while Stelle glanced at him like he was stupid. Stelle chuckled, gaining his attention.
"Now, I am become Trailblaze, the Perambulator of Walls," she said smugly, keeping her tone serious.
Acheron scoffed, a tiny smile on her lips.
"You're funny. If you can crack jokes, you're probably fine. I'm worried a bit for your friend here, since he might take off at this rate."
Mark kept trying to fly, giving up on normal attempts and straight up throwing himself in the air. For a moment, he seemed to float, until he fell nose first against the floor.
"Fuck!" he grunted, standing back up, his face flushed.
She scoffed, shaking her head before advancing on their path once more. Mark kept looking around, noticing familiar and new faces scattered here and there. Silver Wolf, Ratio, and some other figures that made him feel a weird sense of deja vu. He blamed it on his memories acting up. Still, the figures were talking among themselves, a few lines audible. Something felt off, but he paid no mind.
Their steps led to the end of the room, where the door awaited. Reaching for it, the hall extended, moving further and further away from them.
"What the?" asked Mark, trying to dash for the end, but it was too far. Suddenly, he found himself diving headfirst into a door as it shut in front of him.
"Damn it!"
"We're here, said Acheron, standing calmly. Mark took a few steps back, keeping Stelle behind him just slightly. The door then opened, revealing a tiny figure—a boy wearing a neat uniform, his white locks cascading over his left eye.
"Welcome to the Reverie! May you experience an unforgettable holiday! If you need any help checking in, please head straight to the concierge..."
The boy vanished, leaving just them in that place. Mark stood next to Stelle, focusing on Acheron with a careful eye. There was a subtle hint of tension in the air, barely felt, but it tugged at Mark's senses.
"Leave this realm and rise as you would on any other day. Forget this fortuitous encounter, and return whence you came." She uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her sides, the look on her face tame, almost gentle.
"But, before you do, I would make a request of you."
Mark glanced at Stelle, and she shrugged. It was odd, but they were willing to listen.
"You may think it somewhat strange, perhaps even rude, but I wish to know... Have we met somewhere before?"
Mark knew the question, but he was taken aback. Hearing it so blatantly, paired with a gaze that seemed to see through him, was something that rattled his heart. It was almost as if she had seen him behind the screen, waiting for an honest answer.
"I think we have... but who am I to say so?" replied Mark, keeping the slight waver in his tone in check. Why did the line feel so familiar?
Stelle simply brought a hand to her chin, thinking for a moment before shaking her head.
"I don't know."
Acheron's eyes fell on Stelle, looking past Mark as if he wasn't there.
"You evoke memories of an old friend. In the haze of my recollections, he crossed blades with me, much like this surreal dreamscape where we stood close, yet forever out of reach."
Mark needed nothing more. The words brought a single name to mind, that of Kaslana. He felt a few tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, the emotions brought out. A past that had been ruined once more, something that maybe he could one day fix. That hope was part of him, but the powers needed to make it a reality were just a dream.
Acheron stepped closer, moving past them both, but Mark didn't let go of Stelle, holding her by the wrist as he braced himself, standing in front of her.
"May I ask you a few more questions?" continued Acheron, pacing slowly until she stopped once more. "I... tend to forget things—which is why, rather than memories, I'm accustomed to using my emotions to capture what I normally wouldn't otherwise. The answer is inconsequential. Your spontaneous reaction is what matters."
She kept looking at Stelle, her gaze unwavering. Mark felt like a filler character, but then he did remember that he was exactly that, someone who joined the already completed fray.
"For instance, when you awaken in your room, your lips speak several names. Are they your companions? Family? Enemies? You seem to have forged unbreakable bonds with many people and many incidents..."
Mark didn't like that question, and it also seemed to lack sense for him. She was questioning Stelle, but her gaze turned to him as well.
"May I ask if you two fear losing these bonds?"
Finally, she had added him in the equation as well, which did make him feel included, but it also disturbed him slightly. Such a question was dangerous territory for him. He knew it all too well. The hint of a shadow flickered in the corner of his eyes, and he felt a subtle touch on his shoulder. He looked back, but no one was there.
"I cannot bear such a fear," confessed Stelle, looking downcast at the thought of losing the people she cares for.
Mark forced himself to swallow a knot he didn't even know rested in his throat, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I do... and I did lose some of those bonds... the most precious to me. Life goes on, but... I'd go to unmatched lengths to get them back, yet... I'd never discard the new ones for the old. I treasure them all, thus, this is where my selfishness is born."
She hummed, closing her eyes for a moment, breathing out softly as she prepared a second question.
"Mm... Then, if there was a vast dreamscape, so lifelike it's indistinguishable from reality. There, no one faces life's separations or deaths. Everyone attains their deserved happiness and lives joyfully ever after."
The tension grew again, this time from Mark. The words, familiar as they were, carried more weight to them. He tried deciphering them, only for his mind to block him off. That meant they were important for the future as well, a subtle detail he had to think of.
"I would ask: Would you wish to stay?"
Stelle shook her head, crossing her arms.
"I would never want to live in a dream," she said steadily, the confidence in her voice unwavering.
Mark held Acheron's gaze head on, the two of them clashing. She felt familiar on more levels than knowing the character ahead of time, and he felt familiar to her too in something none understood at the moment.
"Never. Dreams are just desires, but not all desires are good for us. We want things back, things we lost, but... we don't accept that loss is part of life, a part needed that keeps a greater cycle going. Life would become stale if no change came."
She nodded, stepping closer. She took a bit of a sinister stance, her lips pursed in a thin line, stale.
"Now... imagine if this splendid dream were fated to fall apart: friends, family, strangers; followed by the gentle breeze, soaring birds, the stars... and ultimately, yourself."
Mark's heart clenched in his chest, the words striking a dulled nerve that still pulsed. Shadows nearly swarmed him in an instant, just for a split second. He could feel their claws try to drag him away. Acheron's question went on.
"Everyone and every face they remember, the joys and the heartaches, the vows sealed and those left hanging... all will inevitably march towards a predetermined ending. If you had grasped the journey's finale right from the inception..."
Her tone grew somber, dropping a touch in sound.
"I would ask: Would you still embark on this journey?"
Stelle was thinking, her answer prepared, just put into words slowly.
"I would blaze a trail without hesitation."
She beamed with confidence, stable in her choice, grounded in the desire to keep going. Mark had thought about it before, experiencing it in a mundane form.
"Just because someone spoiled a book doesn't mean I won't read it. The emotions are real, the adventure is real... and if I get to live knowing the ending..." He clenched his fist, feeling his nails press on the inside of his palm, keeping him grounded. "I would make sure to change the ending. We all know we'll die at some point, but we keep living. If we knew when we'd die, we'd try to change it. Some consider fate as fixed, but I know it is nothing but the consequence of specific actions. I'll gladly stand against fate itself."
Acheron nodded, taking his answer with a tiny curl of her lips.
"You talk about something grand. Are you sure you can achieve that?"
Mark stared at her, simply saying one single thing.
"No."
Stelle looked at him as if he just said that he sees sounds. Even Acheron was a bit shocked, her smile faltering slightly.
"Yes... I'm not sure I can do it. No need to lie. But... I do know I can try... and I do know I did it a few times..."
She nodded, returning to her own dialogue, asking what was left in her mind.
"Hearing, touch, thought—through these, you gain emotions—cherish them. With emotions, we make choices. And so, we return to the original question..."
She stared at them both.
"I would ask... Do you still remember me?"
Mark felt his mind crumble upon itself, twisting and turning as it tried to seek an answer for it. He did remember her, but part of his mind bled out, screeching in pain as he forced a twisted answer. He clenched his head, holding it between both palms as he fought the vertigo, steadying himself on his feet.
"I feel like I remember you," replied Stelle, helping Mark. She was used to his little crises, thus, this happening didn't bother her as much as it used to.
Meanwhile, Mark struggled to keep his thoughts coherent, his vision blurry, darkened by a cloud of nothingness, watching it linger in the corner of his eyes.
"I... I remember..."
He stopped trying to find a logic in it, accepting that his mind didn't want him knowing something, thus, he chose to ignore it all together. His answer was said, so pushing against the mental wall had no meaning.
"I see... For you, Stelle, it felt like countless versions of you, alike yet distinct, gave entirely different responses. As for Mark, there's just one answer... the same, no matter when."
Mark looked at her, standing straight again, still feeling the way his stomach wanted to spill out its content.
"That was my final question, thank you. We all have our paths to walk, so we shall bid our farewells."
"Will we meet again?" asked Stelle, still half a step behind Mark, who put himself in the middle as casually as he could.
"The golden dream is getting restless. In the coming nights of long, I'm afraid you will face many tribulations and witness many tragedies. And finally... your sight will only see black and white."
She lowered her arms, determination evident in her speech. That was no mere game, it was something far more disturbing.
"But please believe me that in that monochrome world, there will be a glimpse of fleeting red, and when you make a choice, it will reappear before you once more..."
She stepped closer, hand on her sword. Mark prepared, watching carefully, his body running on 25% output, what he could do without hurting himself too much.
"What you must do now is ponder its significance."
She passed them both, with nothing happening, but Mark moved nonetheless, trying to grab something he didn't even see. Sparks flew from his gauntlet, but he got hit nonetheless, his attempt futile in face of sheer strength.
"And then... you can return to the waking world..."
A crimson tear fell on her face, her steps going.
"That's where we all find our answers."
Both Mark and Stelle were struck, the impact coming with a strong delay for some reason that was unknown to him. Perhaps it was the dream world, or maybe she was just so fast that she could play tricks like that with them. Nevertheless, Mark felt his insides spill out in a mess.
Both he and Stelle awoke on the couch in the Express, panting heavily. Mark clung to the memories, striving to remember the scene. Even as the memories tried to flee him, his mental grasp on them was too great. His mind was trained to never let go of memories when they come to him, thus, the dream remained a part of him.
Tears fell along Stelle's cheek, as if she were scared. Mark gently shook her shoulder.
"Hey, calm down, alright? No need to worry that much. It was just a dream."
She nodded, calming down, looking at him with wide eyes that were puffy from the tears.
Pom-Pom came over, looking worried.
"Stelle, what's wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden?"
She sighed, resting against the couch, Mark's hand still on her shoulder.
"I may have dreamed of an old friend..."
Mark knew the answer better. Acheron, a mysterious Galaxy Ranger. Those words felt wrong, mismatched, but they didn't make his head buzz as thinking them wrong. Pom-Pom was still worried, his tiny hands moving around.
"S-Sounds like you had a nightmare. We just arrived in Asdana and already... You should be careful, it seems your tolerance to memoria isn't the strongest."
He began speaking a bit more cheerfully.
"Don't fret, dreams are often the reverse of reality. While you were sleeping, the Express arrived at Penacony."
Mark jumped to his feet, stretching.
"Alright, time to get out and see what the hell is bound to happen in that place."
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