The Void of Mist and Thunder (The 13th Reality #4)

“We need to get out of here!” she yelled at Master George.

But the old man was already swinging into action, holding the Barrier Wand up with both hands as he started barking orders. “Sato! Get your army over here, and quickly! We need to pack together into a group, everyone touching someone else!”

Mothball thought Sato had seemed like a new person since taking over leadership of the soldiers from the Fifth Reality. Unshakable, a true leader. But even he hesitated, probably in awe and fear of the weirdness of it all. There was a river of blue light running through the sky, the world was shaking, monstrous creatures of the Void were descending toward them, and it sounded like a haunted house at an amusement park.

Sato sprang into action.

As he ran around, shouting and pointing and herding his people toward where Master George stood with the Wand, Mothball and Sally huddled close to the old man. The gray creatures were almost to the canyon floor now, seeming to pick up speed the closer they got.

The army almost made it to Mothball and her group. Sato was in the very back, encouraging and pushing people away from the river toward the canyon wall, when the first wave of Void creatures overran him.



Tick didn’t fight it when Chu’s lab rats wheeled him out of the small room, down a hallway, and into a large chamber that looked like a massive laboratory. He didn’t fight it when the lights started flashing and the banging, whirring noises overcame the now-constant and familiar sounds that haunted the air. He didn’t struggle when the Bagger wrapped its cords around him again.

He didn’t fight, because he wasn’t able to fight. His body was strapped down, and he couldn’t feel the slightest trickle of Chi’karda. He was helpless.

All the while, Jane and Chu marched along nearby, whispering to each other and making frantic arm gestures. Tick didn’t know what was going on and didn’t bother to ask. His heart and will were starting to give up with everything else. He needed to snap out of it, find a spark somewhere. But as with the elusive Chi’karda, he was empty.

At some point it all became too much, and, like before, when he’d been trapped inside this machine that he didn’t understand, his mind sped away to a cold and dark place.

There were no dreams in that lonely place.



Sato didn’t scream or cry out for help when the first claw dug into his shoulder. The sharp nails pierced his shirt and raked across his skin, slicing pain through his nerves, but it was the last straw to snap him out of his momentary dazed state and lunge him back into the soldier he’d become. He dove forward, curling into a ball and flipping over at the last second. He kicked out with his feet—landing a solid hit on something soft but solid—then jumped back up to see that the creature had tumbled across the ground. Even as Sato watched, the monster’s form dissolved into a swirl of mist and was whisked up toward the sky.

Sato didn’t have time to follow the path with his eyes. Dozens more of the scary things were already on him. The closest one leaped into the air—gray wings unfolding like an umbrella—then swooped in, claws reaching for his face. The unmistakable thump of a Shurric pounded the air, and the creature was ripped away before it could hurt Sato. More thumps followed from behind him. His soldiers to the rescue.

Someone threw a few Ragers at the line of fangen and other monsters, mounds of dirt and rock compacting into a giant ball of destruction before it slammed into the creatures. Most of the ones on the ground—those close to Sato, anyway—were annihilated, dissipating back to mist and swimming toward the sky in a streak of smoky haze. The fangen that leaped into the air to escape the Ragers were caught by a ruthless volley of pure sound from the Shurrics.

Sato and his army had survived the first wave of attack.

He wasted no time.

“Get to Master George!” he yelled, waving his arms to direct his soldiers. He didn’t stop until every soldier was running. “Form circles around the Realitants! Face them—a hand on the person in front of you! Quickly!”

Faithful and brave, they did exactly as he commanded.



Mothball was amazed at how quickly Sato had assembled his soldiers into a formation of circles radiating out from the center, where George and the Realitants huddled as a group. Each person in the rings placed a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them. They were ready to wink away.

“Everyone closest to me!” Master George barked when the Fifth Army was settled. The madness around them continued, and more creatures were coming, but Mothball and the others were still and silent. “Put your hands on the Wand! Its power will flow through all who are connected!”

He made a quick couple of adjustments to the dials and switches as the other Realitants reached out and gripped a spot on the cool, brassy surface.