The Acolytes of Crane

7 THEODORE: K. T.





“The funneled sound of an awesome classic folk-rock band lifted me from my slumber. My eyes still shut, the foggy sensation of color at backs of my lids reverted from deep brown to a glowing orange.”

The roll of band’s fluid guitar solos and appealing vocals jarred uneasily with the off-tune pitch of the cab driver.

There was something familiar about waking up to the smell of an armpit. My vision went from a blur to clear, and I had a flash of Jason’s arm extended with his pit firing stench into my direction. I wanted so badly to be with him. His image faded away after I rubbed the sleep out of the corners of my eyes.

My neck was incredibly sore on both sides. I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth.

My hot breath stank; the smell was not unlike that of the stench of sweat pouring out from a Muay Thai boxer after several rounds of fighting, combined with that of camel poop. The smell of my hot breath could not contend with the nostril-flaring, olfactory-nerve-depleting stench of the second-hand smoke of cheap cigars, the sickly artificial scent of a half-dozen vanilla air fresheners, and the ongoing perspiration of the cab driver, itself a manly-man-sweat-factory of death. Put simply, the cab and its operator reeked. For a moment, I thought about my dad. The cabby reminded me of him with his rough demeanor.

My dad had three important mottos. Of course, number one was; don’t ever eat the yellow snow. The rest were inherited by my great grandfather Willard: number two, you will not succeed in anything without a little hard work, and number three, trust is based on predicting from experience.

Whenever my father told me these three things, he fashioned his voice in a way such that he sounded like a newscaster. I was thankful that I had the pleasure to meet his granddaddy Willard before he passed away.

‘Well kid, the ride takes around an hour, and you have managed to take up fifty minutes of that by snoring. We are almost there. You sure you know your way around town?’ he asked.

Always having been escorted to and from the place, and having only been allowed to freely roam the campgrounds themselves, I really didn’t know much about the town of Taylors Falls itself. I only knew how to find the cliffs from the gas station, but even that was going to be difficult. I continued to put up a show of demonstrating maturity and confidence.

‘You can drop me off at the gas station,’ I said.

‘Whatever you say, sir. You have the dough, you do have more money right?’ he asked letting out a wild cackle that spun off into a coughing tangent. ‘I am only messing with ya, you little turkey.’ He continued driving, thumping at the steering wheel with his right thumb from time to time.


‘Yes sir, what happened to your neck?’ I asked as I pointed out the four-inch long scar across his hairy neck, beneath his ear.

He said, ‘Oh, that old thing? That is from shrapnel I caught in the bush. I am not talking about casualties from the lady-folk,’ he said, breaking to laugh over a joke that must have gone beyond me, because I didn’t laugh, ‘In ’Nam, I was doing a patrol through the jungle, and my battle buddy stepped out of formation onto a land-mine. Well, my poor buddy was cut clean in half, and I caught the rough edge of some shrapnel in my neck. The doc told me it was a metal shard from my buddy’s canteen! I almost lost my life to a canteen! Hit a centimeter away from my jugular. Well, it got me a ticket home. I’ve been driving this cab ever since.’

He had a huge lump of chewing tobacco protruding from his lip; there was slimy brown spit, teasing an exit near the corner of his mouth. One unexpected bump while driving, and it could have landed on the fur-covered steering wheel. I nearly heaved at the smell when he talked.

I asked him where he was from, and he told me originally that he lived in Palmyra, Missouri. He said he grew up on a cattle farm. Then he rambled about freemartin heifers and jersey cows.

It was all too much information for me. I found back then, that whenever I asked an adult a simple question, I typically received a long-winded answer. I really didn’t mind. I usually found something useful among the nonsense.

I liked his story. Throughout my life, I discovered the majority of people that tell you the gory details of their battles were typically lying, unless they had a scar to prove it or their details were perfectly lined up.

A small percentage of men who see combat actually tell about it. Most of them withhold it because they are deeply pained by what they have done and endured.

He pulled up in the parking lot of an old gas station. ‘We are here bud,’ he said as he reached for the money, ‘Just curious kid, who’s Jason? You are not having those night terrors I heard about, are ya?’

‘No,’ I answered, with a lump in my throat.

‘You kept going on about Jason in your sleep, and I heard on a talk show that night terrors are caused by stress.’

‘Jason is my friend. I am looking forward to seeing him. That is all,’ I said, as I closed the door.

The cabby rolled down the window and handed me a stained business card. He said, ‘The name’s Winston, Winston Springfield. If you ever need a ride, call the number on the side and ask for me. Best of luck.’

I took his card, inserted it into my shirt pocket, put up my other hand to bid him a good day, and off he went. I stopped inside the station to grab a local tourist map to help me in my adventure. I wasn’t too worried about navigation because the cliffs were not far from the town. The station was a hybrid between gift shop and gas stop. There were more than enough knick-knacks in the store to distract me.

While I was fighting the urge to wander the aisles, I felt eyes pressing my back. I turned while looking and there was no one. I knew I could rely on my necklace to warn me, but it issued no response.

I quickly left and I began my hike, which really only consisted of pounding pavement and following signs.

The campgrounds were organized. I wasn’t scared of the dark anymore, but there was something about unfamiliar locations, large swaths of forest, and sparse traffic zooming by recklessly that made me feel uneasy.

Sighing, I stopped and gazed at my map, confused and alone. My head acted like a beacon as I swiveled to find a landmark—anything that would reassure me. Just as I was about to panic, a hiker stepped out of the shady woods and walked right into my line of sight.

The hiker was about six feet tall and all he had with him was a walking stick. Either he was under prepared, or his campsite was nearby. It was strange that he appeared out of the thick of the woods.

As he got closer, I had this weird feeling that I knew him. However, I knew I had never seen his face before. I pushed my errant thoughts out of my head.

‘Hi I’m David, nice to meet you. You need help finding anything? You look kind of young to be roaming the woods by yourself.’

His tone placated me, although I still had this innate fear of strangers, especially young men, bred into me by my safety-conscious grandparents. Still, he appeared genuinely warm, and I had no choice. ‘My name is Ted, but if you are not busy, do you think you could lead me to the shoreline by the cliffs?’ I asked.

‘Ted, it would be my pleasure, let’s go. There is no time better than the present.’ He let out a peculiar laugh, as if he was sharing a private joke with himself.

We strolled along the road, and he began to sing a familiar tune. I recognized that song—it was something my grandma taught me. I had happily hummed it on occasion during moments of privacy in years past, but by now had forgotten the lyrics. He sang badly—real badly. I felt like covering my ears or breaking my pencil in two and plugging my ear canals with each end.

We were approaching the beach, and the water was rustling along the river’s shore. I tried to peer through the near-black murky surface, but failed. Eddies of white foam swirled about. Only by standing right in front of the powerful river can you truly appreciate its commanding magnificence.

To my right were the cliffs. The cliffs started out at about fifteen feet from the water and ascended to nearly fifty. They were tall and unwavering. David stood by as I marveled at the cliffs.

David turned to me with a benign, but quizzical expression on his face. ‘You know there is a kid they have been looking for out here. His name is Travis, have you seen him?’

Dread coursed throughout my veins. Fear knotted itself within the pit of my stomach.

Why was he asking me?

I stammered at first, then massaged my voice more steadily as I went on. ‘No, I have not seen him. I have not heard of him.’

‘Hmm,’ he said, still staring at me.

I nervously glanced at his expression. Still blank.

Then he laughed and swung his head aside.

‘Well, this is it Ted, you know a fifteen-year-old should never be in the woods by himself, see ya later,’ David said, as he strolled away.

I froze at his words. Robotically I said, ‘Goodbye.’

What did he just say?

‘A fifteen-year-old should never be in the woods by himself.’

Was it a warning?

And how did he know my age? I had never mentioned it to him.

Immediately, I checked my amulet for clues. Indeed, it had been glowing, but now was fading out.

I turned my head to take stock of the whereabouts of the strange hiker. David had already vanished.

I decided that there was no reason to worry, everything would be all right. I was here, at my intended destination. I shrugged. Maybe David was just darn good at guessing people’s ages. After all, it is easier to guess the age of a teenager than that of an older adult.

Feeling better, I picked up some rocks and began to skip them across the water. The first couple of stones that I grabbed were oddly shaped and plunked into the river. I then searched for some flat circular rocks. Jason had suggested thin and smooth rocks were the best.

I was wasting time. I knew that soon, my grandparents would be noticing my long absence. With their built-up apprehension, it wouldn’t be long before people would be joining hands around the vicinity, as part of a massive manhunt, looking for me. I took that old familiar path along the St. Croix River. As I recessed within my memories, I recalled laughing and running up those steep hills years before with Jason and Travis. How times had changed.


I had to grab the base of saplings to pull my way past the steeper inclines. I could not remember the rule in avoiding poisonous plants; leaves in groups of three, or was it five? Whatever. I just hoped I wouldn’t encounter any. A branch from a sapling whipped upward as I brushed by it, and its rebound sting lashed my arm, leaving a slight abrasion on my skin.

I completed my advancement to the highest point of the cliffs—the spot where Jason had died. And maybe Travis, too. Tears welled up in my eyes. That large tall oak tree, the tree that could have saved Jason, was precariously perched on the edge of the cliff, alone and forlorn. It saved Travis, but not Jason. My heart pounded.

When I firmly clasped its trunk, and slowly moved my head aside past the tree to glance at the sheer rocky outface below, I knew both of us were clinging for dear life. I rubbed the bark. Careful not to stumble toward my death, I put my back against the tree, and then I slowly, inch by inch, slid my back down until I was sitting at its base.

That day before I left for the cliffs, I had an epiphany. I believed that if I could do no wrong, then I could not hurt myself, with The Intervention on guard. Lincoln and I were certain that The Intervention stepped in when it detected wrongdoing.

I wanted to be with Jason so badly. My mind was tainted with the thought of his death. Naive, I figured if I did something really stupid there, and if The Intervention stood aside passively, I could be with Jason in heaven, On the other hand, if the power intervened, I would simply get soaked.

I stood up and leaned forward, nearing the edge of the cliff. The stiff wind chilled the parts of my body that were exposed. The wind pressed on, uninhibited, through the openings of my sleeves and slightly tickled my elbows.

When the kids jumped from that height for the thrill, they had to climb up the tree and out on the sturdiest branch, the one facing toward the water, before they hurled themselves safely into the deep part of the river. It was necessary to do so in order to avoid the vengeful sides of the cliff, which flexed roughly outward.

The toes of my shoes were hanging over the edge, slightly. I closed my eyes. I felt my heels teetering at the edge of the cliff. My body swayed from the wind’s gentle push. I was now at peace.

Suddenly, the amulet started burning my chest with intense heat. Alarmed, I heard the trampling of earth behind me.

A shrieking voice rang out, ‘I told you to stay out of my business, and you didn’t listen!’

‘Wait, who—’ I asked, but before I could turn around, two palms slammed into my back, decisively shoving my body into the air. The last thing I heard was his answer to my interrupted question.

‘Travis!’ he yelled.

I remember in flashes, seeing the cliff, water, and sky, repeated over and over. I could not scream; my throat was tightly constricted with fear.

I was flailing in the wind, just like when I fell from the oak tree at the Red Bricks. Through my eyes, tiny dots of light speckled my vision. These were blinding and painful. Travis blasted me so hard that my shoes flew off my feet.

Suddenly, I felt the welcome force of The Intervention enveloping my body. Overcome with exultation, I found myself frozen in mid-air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall male stranger on the other side of the river, watching from the docks. My last thoughts were of joy, because someone was there to witness it.

Weightlessness was the state of my body for a moment. It was if I was nowhere, and that I was nothing, all at once.

Indeed, there was nothing but the echo of my thoughts populating a dark, black void.

Then I snapped out of it.

Instantly, I slammed into the cold white floor of a shiny enclosure. Aching with stabbing pain all over, I pushed myself up from the floor, totally shocked that I didn’t fall into a watery grave—or worse, finding myself into dismembered pieces amidst the cruel jutting edges of an unforgiving cliff face.

The floor transitioned from a blindingly luminous white to multi-colored, then slowly faded. Feeling faint, I and hurled myself up to my feet, but I collapsed back to the floor.

I scanned my surroundings. The room was gleaming white all around, and seeing glossy walls, I crawled to one side to touch it, throbbing with curiosity. Up close, the wall seemed transparent, but was as solid as rock. Incredibly, the wall had radiated heat when I touched it, unlike the floor, which was cold. As I looked closer at the mysterious wall, I saw thousands of tiny holes dotted all throughout in a meticulous pattern. I lay upon my back and yelled, ‘Where the hell am I?’

Then a voice, soothing and deep, massaged my mind. The bass of the male voice felt calming and tranquil. He was telling me to be still. I was putting together a retort, but my eyes grew weary and my body still felt weightless.

My mysterious charm necklace was cool and comforting. To my surprise, the walls instantly changed color, from white to a sort of tan. But contrary to my initial impression, it wasn’t a change of hue. As I looked on in fascination, a sappy, syrup-like substance spurted through these millions of tiny holes! The floor was rapidly being coated with this liquid, and I momentarily flipped my lid as the substance spread to the floor and soaked the soles of my socks.

The liquid continued to rise. The prospect of a dam bursting broke in through to my skull, and triggered my survival instinct. I pounded against the walls until my knuckles bled, I shouted, ‘You are going to drown me, you jerks?’

The room filled extremely quickly. The thick substance continued to flow beyond the height of my shoulders. As the fluid lifted my body upwards, the space between the ceiling and the liquid dwindled to about an inch. My window of survival was closing fast.

I turned my chin toward the light that shined upon the enclosure, took one final breath, and closed my eyes.

A voice, clear as if it was actually in my mind to begin with, calmed me. I prayed to God in thought and the man said, ‘No need to pray, Theodore, you must take in the fluid, swallow it, breath it. It will be painful at first. However, your body will remember its benefit.’

When you are near death, and the person—who you think is out to take your life—offers you a way out, you take it, unless the way presented is morally repugnant. Otherwise, you are better off dying.

The voice echoed as it tailed off. I acquired a warm trusting opinion of the voice, and inhaled the liquid. Despite my clear self-command, I found myself choking on the liquid. My lungs caused me to convulse as they gasped frantically for air. Ignoring my base instincts, I forced the liquid down my throat.

That moment was as close to death as I had ever been.

My self-induced drowning was agonizing and traumatically devastating. I could no longer ingest any more liquid. My final breath snuffed out, I saw stars. There was a soft tingle in my oxygen-starved arms and shoulders. Was I dead? With the last bit of energy left within my body, I lifted my right arm.

‘He has awakened, my King,’ someone said near me, while my vision crept back into existence.

In a similar deepness of tone to the first voice in the enclosure, someone spoke with an authoritative tone, ‘Don’t try to move or speak, or you will suffer great pain. Your body is in a state of expelling the dephlocontis mucilage.’ I started coughing the remnants of the alien tan-colored mucus from my esophagus onto my cupped hands. ‘You have been at rest for a few hours in Earth time. It isn’t customary for us to cleanse a body with tonic during a teleport. However, within your temple, we found a sinister and vile curse.’ The speaker paused, and turned his head to ask his supervisor if I could speak yet. Yes.


‘Are you familiar with cancer, Theodore?’

My vision finally became more clear. In awe, I saw the speaker. Before me was a majestic royal subject, who was pacing behind the glass door. He was highly decorated from the ground up, with merits and commendations. His forearms were encased in decoratively organized shards of a golden substance. His head was fitted with a levitating crown. It looked like it was made of the same substance and brilliantly jeweled. The glare was so strong that I could not stare at it too long without my eyelids filling with tears.

He had a cape of hair draped from trapezius level of his shoulder blade to just past his waist. The cape was braided with beads of light, dyed with a wide range of colors, and was well groomed. He was extremely hairy, covered with dark brown hair all over his body, not like an Afghan mountain hound, but still intimidating. The texture of the hair away from his face was like that of a well-groomed man’s beard; long enough to appear like a pleasant, lush pattern, but not so short as to jut out like harsh bristles. He was encased in an incredible armor, consisting of a pliable and flexible rocklike substance.

Back to the question about cancer. ‘Y-y-yes sir, my great grandfather Willard died from it,’ I said, feebly trying to muster up a voice. Once again, my eyes took in the magnificence of the being before me.

A robotic individual who was observing a holographic tablet in the background interjected, ‘He speaks about the man who dishonored his marital contract on February 2, 1982 at 3:22 p.m.’

‘That is of no matter,’ the regal figure exclaimed toward the robotic thing beside me. He turned back toward me, ‘You must know. You were riddled with leukemia, as the earthlings call it. You may recall feeling the overwhelming sensation of fatigue and weakness or pain upon your knees, elbows, and spine. During your transport here, we analyzed your molecular makeup, and found the abomination. It was simply deleted from your composition. It is a precaution of ours to heal a body, once the curse has been removed, with the tonic of a dephlocontis tree. This should explain your submersion in the fluid. I apologize for that,’ the king said.

‘Who are you, what am I doing here, and where is here?’ I demanded.

‘Don’t speak, and listen please, as you would to your grandparents. My name is King Trazuline Halperin. I am Zane’s Chief Defense Advisor, and King of the planet Karshiz. You were brought here because of your overexposure to a multiversal terrorist.”

As I slowly mulled over the majesty’s name, it dawned upon me. ‘King Trazuline…. K.T.! You sent me the jeweled necklace!’ I exclaimed.

‘Yes, Theodore. That was the only way we could ensure your safety and locate you for the teleport. Right now, we are orbiting the planet of Sephera. You are an organic creature, created of living carbon. Therefore, you are not here in the manner most beings are. The populations that reside on Sephera are mainly digital and spiritual in nature. They are not extracted from life, but rather from death. Their fate, if you will, led them here. Your fate has not been decided yet, and your business here is of extreme danger. A risk we willingly took up. We brought you here in reaction to a growing dilemma. You should know, Theodore, there is an evil smothering Earth and threatening the serenity of Sephera.’ He turned to robot, ‘Prepare the chamber.’

‘Why should I care? I am only a teenager,’ I said. Who was Zane, I pondered to myself. What was Sephera?

‘Our nemesis extracted a man about a week ago from the future. You would know him, I’m afraid. We have conclusive data that the so-called David, the young man who led you to the river at Taylors Falls, was actually Travis Jackson.’

I gasped. Whoa—Travis had actually transformed into someone else? And why did he stage his own disappearance?

King Trazuline nodded solemnly at my aghast reaction. ‘He was extracted by the Dacturons, because they wish to use him to meddle into the affairs of the Urilians. He is no longer of your time.’

My eyes widened. ‘He—he is of the future?’

The king sighed. ‘No. Not that either.’

‘I—I don’t understand, your majesty.’

‘Travis is no longer here or there, but he is extremely dangerous still. It was a change that left us feeling extremely vulnerable. Travis’ future self murdered his fifteen year old version with a merge.’

My hands began to shake.

‘Travis,’ the king continued, his eyes squinting, ‘has been wholly transformed into an unstoppable force, powered by hatred. He is attached to no time or place and can move freely between our realms. We estimate his age to be twenty-two.’ He began to pace left and right, ‘We are not entirely sure why he has been frequenting your house or why he attempted to end your life, so he could get you a one-way ticket to Sephera, but we do know that it has something to do with the home in which you live.’

‘A moment sire,’ the robot whispered to King Trazuline.

Bowing his head at me, the royal left the room through the automatic sliding doors to confer with his subject. The hum of their discussion slipped through the slender gap of the doors, but I could not make out the words. I sat there nervous and inundated with thoughts. I wondered what the Dacturons wanted with my house. They were using Travis to get to me.

The king and his subject re-entered the room, seemingly content.

Pushing aside the thoughts of Travis, I had to know who my rescuer was. I gazed at his majestic garb as he towered over me. ‘Sir, so you are really a King?’ I asked. ‘Your armor is intense.’ I once again admired his armor.

He said, ‘Yes, I am a king, and this is traditional battle gear in my culture. It is comprised of metals foreign to your land. What seems to be a crown my boy, is actually a rolesk entrusted to me by Zane. Rolesks afford us the ability to manipulate Dietons.’

He stopped for a moment to stroke his fingers against an emblem on his armor, and like one of my old transforming figurines, his armor simplified into a shield that he slung over his back. I was stunned at this display of what seemed to be magic.

He said, ‘I apologize, I was getting hot. Where was I? Dietons. They were designed during an age of nanotechnology near the beginning of my time. It is a concept upon which your planet spent lavishly in the future.’ His voice deepened. ‘They just barely scratched the surface! We are the ones who perfected the technology. You previously referred to these Dietons as The Intervention. You are unfamiliar with nanotechnology. Nanotechnology has to do with technology on an atomic or molecular level. In other words, too small to be observed by the naked eye, but still intensely signifi—’

He was interrupted by another alien being from across the room. He said, ‘Sir, if I may, the boy may have trouble comprehending all that you speak of. We must not assume he can fathom these concepts. He must first evolve, at least at an intellectual level satisfactory for our purposes.’

I sucked in my breath, as he stood out so easily. Over twelve feet tall, he triumphantly towered over the others. Like an angel, he had symmetrical wings tucked neatly behind his torso, encased in a golden material. As I looked at him, I admired him. He was of great nobility as well, just like King Trazuline. He too was crowned with a rolesk.

This being turned his head toward me and gently said, ‘No offense, boy. I am not at all in disbelief of your capabilities. I am just concerned about your capacity for this overwhelming amount of knowledge in such a short time.’ He placed his hand on my shoulder and continued, ‘I’ll cut to the chase. The Dacturons are the enemy. Travis is working with them, and you are our only hope.’


‘Who are you?’ I whispered, staring straight up. He was nearly three times my height. ‘Human boy, my name is Migalt. I am a messenger of justice and power prescribed by my creator, and you will follow me now to the chamber. You must confide in us, for we have your best interests in mind.’

Angrily, I blurted, ‘Why should I trust you guys? I didn’t ask you to bring me here. I didn’t want this. I knew that something crazy would happen if I pushed The Intervention.’ I paused, trying to remember all the strange names that I had heard within the last five minutes. ‘Or Dietons, whatever you call them. I am just a teenager.’

Migalt said, ‘Theodore. Please calm down, and follow me.’

Seeing no other option, I started toward Migalt.

Trazuline said goodbye to me, with a salute to his head. To his side, the robot-like person was busy on his tablet.

Migalt carried on and said, ‘See, trust is being able to predict one’s actions based on what they have done in the past. This is a concept that you believe in. You know of us to be completely in your favor. We have not wronged you thus far and have only brought you further into glory. We saved you from certain death. You shall believe in us, as we believe in you. Zane designed the entire mission. That alone comforts me.’

We turned around a corner, then walked across a transparent hallway. Migalt held out his hand in front of him and said, “This way. The chamber was designed to heal the body and mind, but it can do much more. While you are in this chamber, you will be transformed mentally, as well as physically, to conceptualize the many mysteries of the multiverse. There are many planets involved in the conflict. Further, we will amplify the commendable abilities that you already display. Theodore, you are a born leader. We will advance your knowledge in military tactics to help you lead the Earth’s resistance against this particular threat. You will no longer be a fart-giggling teen, instead you will evolve into a hardened veteran, extremely skilled in tactical strategy.’

I was afraid to say anything, so I chose to listen.

As we walked to the chamber, Migalt then explained that he was enlisted by Zane to protect me. He was a Bromel, created in Zane’s lab.

I remember the overwhelming feeling of anxiety that followed after he informed me of his duty. I even recall breaking a sweat, and at age fifteen, that is impressive.

Bromels. Imagine a bird-like being, twelve feet tall, and clad in technologically unique armor. The revelation that such a powerful being was assigned to protect me confirmed that I was considered a very valuable ally to Zane. It was very humbling. I knew that even though I was a teenager, I had to become mature enough real quick.

We approached the vault of the chamber. He told me there was another chamber of that type on another spaceship, which had been hijacked by a Dacturon Imperial vessel. He went on to explain that we were currently aboard the ship Uriel, and we were orbiting the most secure planet in the multiverse, Sephera.

What is Sephera? I thought to myself. I decided to be patient, and find out later.

He told me that Zane chose me. I thought if this Zane had infinite wisdom, then how did he let all those events happen? It was only the beginning of many doubts. I was just exploding with curiosity. If I was so vital to the Urilians, I had to be as prepared as I could.

I knew I could only ask one question at a time. I settled on one and blurted out, ‘So, Migalt, how will you protect me?’

From the majestically clad armor, a secret compartment opened, revealing a massive weapon that appeared to be a gun. He pulled the weapon from his sheath, and upon his command, a beaming blade of light appeared from its muzzle. The beam of light was about six inches wide and was as long as Migalt was tall—twelve feet. This blade was extremely hot. I smelt the singe of my forearm hairs, which led me to take a step back in caution.

‘This weapon wields a rare mineral foreign to your world, known as tritium phosphoritite. It can generate controlled bursts of energy, either as a fighting tool, or as blasts of ammunition. These are concepts that you will understand soon enough. You will enter the chamber. Your body is likely to undergo changes as well as your mind. It is common for one to panic upon exiting. Pathways in your mind will be opened, and all that you hear or touch will be processed instantly. It can be daunting. Go forth, boy. If we deposit you back onto Earth, and you are in danger, just hold out your hand and we will rescue you. Oh, and Theodore, you are lucky we found you at the cliffs just on time. Your necklace gave us your location. I see you are wearing Megadenom’s amulet now. Only the use of Dietons could get that amulet to you in the way we did,’ he said.

‘Yeah, it came to me one night. It has been my guardian angel,’ I replied. I attempted to sound cool, but I could not take my mind off the chamber. I dreaded what it could do to me. I feared I would never be that idiosyncratic fifteen-year-old Theodore Crane ever again. I gulped. Would I ever savor the simple pleasures of performing ollies on my skateboard again?

I walked toward the three-foot thick massive metal vault entry to the chamber, and I stepped inside. I heard Migalt whistling an upbeat tune with his lips and then the vault door slammed shut behind me. I stepped into the center of the room. I stood still and in a flash, the solid glass-like enclosure encased me.

I saw an image of a man. His voice was pulsating and echoing through my mind, violently overcoming my senses. I tried to open my eyes to no avail, because he was so brightly dressed and the chamber was white.

‘My name is Zane. I am the Urilian Omnian, one of two Omnians born into this multiverse. There remains only two of us. We both were created by the Dacturons. Even though they created me, I totally oppose them and what they stand for. I created the Dietons, whose job in the multiverse is to fight the Dacturons in every way possible. I also built this vessel, the Uriel, to resist the Dacturon’s radical opposition to our way of life. I chose you, Theodore, because you have not deterred from the path I have set out before you. Now, I have spoken of two Omnians. This other Omnian is named Odion. He leads the Dacturons, and therefore, seeks my destruction and death, even though we are, in essence, brothers. Odion has already infiltrated Earth. You must understand this more than anything. Even though Travis is undoubtedly the one unstable enemy that could be the end of all that exists under my rule, you must respect him. Without respect, you will not be able to gauge what he can do. Furthermore, do not yield to any temptation to any inkling of evil Theodore, or I will be forced to crush you.’

The urgency in Zane’s voice reached a new pitch, pounding against my head. ‘This is a call to arms! We have extracted many individuals from all lifestyles to react to the Darkness. Use your compassion. It is your powerful weapon to bring good and order to the multiverse. Your mission will soon be given form, because focus will divulge all truths.’

His voice was so powerful and clear that my ears rang, and the shining aura around him caused my eyes to fill with tears.

“Then, just like that, he vanished. All that remained was darkness and then nothing, allowing my mind to recuperate immediately with great relief. No sound, nor light, nor thought existed within me—simply nothing. I was teleported again.”

That was a marathon, but it feels great. Pacing the entire time causes me to tire. Thirsty, I take a drink and lie down. My throat is sore, and as I swallow, there is a slight sting. While shutting my eyelids, my weak body pulls me into slumber.