"Is it safe for my family to return home?" asked Ted Wheeler, father of Mike Wheeler, after we dispensed with obligatory small talk.
I had been in my office going over the proposals for equipment and teams that would explore the Upside Down, or as it was officially recorded in Aperture Science: the Hawkins Anomaly. Ted Wheeler had suddenly requested a meeting. Since I had a brief window before the next scheduled meeting, I invited him right in.
Since Ted was mostly peripheral to my plans, I didn't pay much attention to him. Still, I knew there was little for him to do in the Enrichment Center for now, so he was available at my convenience.
Although I still had a lot of reports to go over, it was a welcome distraction from administrative work. Even though I seemed to have some talent for it, I didn't really enjoy it. I couldn't wait until I could foist most of that onto GLaDOS. As soon as I could reasonably trust the artificial intelligence we made not to kill us all, all that detailed work would no longer be my problem. From what I could perceive through my wraith, training GLaDOS was progressing. Soon it would be safe for other people to interact with GLaDOS, albeit under supervision.
Ted was sitting in an office chair across my desk, while I pondered his question. His stint in the Enrichment Center didn't seem to affect him much. He still looked very mild-mannered, with his glasses and conservative suit. He was fidgeting a bit, but that might just be because he was waiting for my answer.
From what I observed, Brenner and his men had holed up in Hawkins National Laboratory. I had my little birds watch from a distance since approaching too close tended to get them killed.
I had not seen anyone leave in days. And there was no sign of a hunt for the Wheeler family.
"Safety is a relative term," I replied. "There would be some questions, but as long as you all stick to the agreed story, it should be fine. Remember, you left with Ms. Byers before the agents invaded your home. You never met them, nor any of the Ives family. But do you plan to leave immediately? Ms. Holland has recovered and it would be best to return her to her parents, but there is still the matter of Will Byers. I thought your whole family was staying until he is well too."
Barbara was something of a problem. Now that she was well, there was no reason to keep her. But I had to find a way to return her to her parents without revealing too much. It could be that I worried about nothing. As I had observed, for some reason, Brenner was surprisingly passive. What was he doing in that lab of his?
Will's situation was even more problematic. Mostly because it wasn't ending, and I had yet to determine a cause.
I had left Five Colored Slime with the sick boy, camouflaged as a hospital gown. Then I used that slime to set a Bounded Field over his room to monitor, block remote psychic assault, and help heal the boy when he inevitably relapsed.
But even that proved to be insufficient.
Moreover, I still had to prevent an impending alien invasion, which meant amassing enough funds through Aperture Science to buy out Black Mesa before they unwittingly triggered it. In the video game Half-Life, the invasion was more than twenty years away, but then in the same game universe, GLaDOS was not supposed to come online in the eighties too. So I was not quite sure how much time I had.
The Hawkins situation did not help. Black Mesa had created the Resonance Cascade, which drew the eye of the Combine to Earth, by experimenting with crystals from Xen. If the Hawkins Anomaly was indeed part of Xen, then the acquisition of crystals could be expedited. The only comfort was that we found no crystals. But we had not examined much of it.
The Palantir I used was not enough. I needed a more elevated vantage point than a house to see further away. There existed a sound reason for the popularity of tall towers among owners of palantíri in Arda. It was a pity that I was prohibited from directly interfering with Black Mesa.
"Mike would like that. But I do have a job to return to," he said, pushing his glasses back. His eyes once again accidentally veered towards a new painting that graced my office. Quickly he averted his gaze. This was about the fourth time it happened since he entered. It was amusing. I suppose it was the subject that disturbed him. Archer nude and bound. That sight had really inspired me, so after finishing the draft, I decided to do it in oil. There was some equipment in the storage. After I painted it, in my opinion, it veered more towards artistic than lewd, prompting me to hang it in my office. Drawing schematics and magical sigils were good practices for painting. Who could have guessed? "I hope that I still have a job to return to. I did disappear without informing my boss."
They had been agents swarming, but I suppose other bosses were not as considerate as I am.
"May I offer an alternative? Aperture Science is expanding. We have received a green light from our investors to build two new facilities. One will be in Hawkins." The other is to be built on the Moon. But that was something he didn't need to know. "There is an opening for someone with your skills."
And that was even true. I needed more administrative staff. Especially those that had common sense. For something that had the word "common" in its name, in my experience, it was vanishingly rare.
When I had sent the preliminary proposal to our principal investor I had expected that maybe one of two items on the list would merit some cash inflow. What I got could be basically summed up as "Shut up and take my money". Every proposed project was greenlighted. Every expense was approved.
I had always recognized our last remaining investor as an eccentric. His immense wealth shielded him from being labelled mad.
"Why me?" he inquired, leaning subtly in my direction.
He's interested, Leo added silently.
Obviously, I silently responded, then addressed Ted aloud, "One problem we have with new employees is how they react to the stranger things that could be encountered in our line of work. You on the other hand have already passed that test. You should seriously consider it. Besides employee discounts, and when you live in a town with monsters having Aperture Science Sentinel Turret at your home is just a sensible precaution, there is also a fact that since our company is a military contractor, you'll have to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement. That should shield you from certain questions. They can't claim that they need to know for the sake of national security when you can't give them an answer for the same reason."
"I will have to think about it," he replied, but from the look on his face, I was expecting a positive answer. Being idle didn't suit him. Too much of his identity was tied up in being the breadwinner for his family.
"Inform me when you do decide. But remember position won't stay open forever. And if that means something Ms. Byers had already accepted a similar offer." A ringing sound announced that it was time for the next meeting. There were too many of them and too many reports and other organizational work. It has been less than a week, and I already missed doing hands-on research. "Unfortunately, that is all the time I have for you today."
My intention has always been to encompass the entire Enrichment Center within a specialized Bounded Field. It was a common practice among Magi to use magecraft to enhance their money-earning ventures. For all that Magus was supposed to be above mundane concerns, magecraft research was very expensive. Everything, from exotic reagents and costly equipment to mana-rich land, came with a hefty price tag.
Given their topological nature, Bounded Fields were a logical choice for actual places of business. For example, a high-end store might be placed under a Bounded Field meant to "keep the wealth in."
There were several problems in the Aperture for which this planned Bounded Field would be a solution.
The first challenge was retaining employees, largely due to frequent workplace accidents. Labelling the experiments conducted at Aperture as reckless would be a gross understatement. While I could attempt to instil basic workplace safety, I was somewhat sceptical about its effectiveness, given the nature of the employees here. A better solution might be to have each employee shadowed by a guardian angel.
The second issue was security. Even without considering what was happening with Will, and the potential threat of a hostile psychic remotely viewing our facility, there remained the issue that many of Aperture's discoveries had been stolen before they could be patented. With the upcoming introduction of new, more dangerous, and profitable secrets within our facility, additional security was imperative. This, too, could be addressed by the presence of guardian angels.
The third challenge was the need for a more efficient conduit to channel future knowledge from an adjunct timeline into the minds of Aperture scientists. The methods I was using, although they allowed me full control over the transferred knowledge, required a significant amount of effort, which was proving to be a disadvantage. There simply wasn't enough time to execute this process effectively while also pursuing original research. Plus, there was a limit to how much I could lay at GLaDOS's feet while still maintaining a believable narrative. Yet, this challenge could also be overcome with the help of angels. There were recorded instances of angels bestowing secret knowledge.
This pattern of employing angels to address our challenges seemed promising. It was a very workable pattern. Most people, even those not of Abrahamic faiths, had a general understanding of what angels were. It was a widely accepted phenomenon. For those capable and willing to utilize it, it was a manageable concept, and I was among those individuals.
One of the two major branches of magecraft I specialized in was rooted in the Kabbalah Thaumaturgical School. The fundamental belief of this approach was that holy scriptures such as the Bible concealed coded messages. These encoded messages were thought to contain "light" from the swirl of the root, which could empower those who managed to decode and utilize them.
In the Book of Enoch, it is written:
6.1 And it came to pass when the sons of men had increased, that in those days there were born to them fair and beautiful daughters.
6.2 And the Angels, the sons of Heaven, saw them and desired them. And they said to one another: "Come, let us choose for ourselves wives, from the children of men, and let us beget, for ourselves, children."
From these words, ancient sages unravelled secret truths about the union of the human and the divine. Over time, this knowledge extended to other sacred texts, particularly those of Egyptian and Greco-Roman origins.
By the time this tome of occult wisdom found its way into my ancestor's hands, the spells it contained belonged to an older, purer form of magecraft - one that modern magi, shaped by a world that had drifted far from the Root, were no longer capable of handling. They originated from a more ancient era, from a time when magecraft stood closer to the True Magic.
It was the task of my lineage to rework these spells, to adapt them to the magecraft of the present era - one heavily influenced by systems such as Neoplatonism, Gnosticism, the Enochian system of angelic magic devised by John Dee and Edward Kelley, Hermeticism, Tantra, and Tarot symbolism.
Necessarily, this adaptation diluted the potency of the spells; the raw, primordial power of the old magecraft was tempered and reduced to make it compatible with modern methodologies. This was the necessary sacrifice. The modified spells were then embedded in our family's Magic Crest.
My point is, that angels were well within my realm of expertise. However, for optimal results, the angels I would invoke would be the Watchers, the fallen angels described in the Book of Enoch.
Their damnation came through fornication, and it is through fornication that I intended to invoke them.
The connection between sex, magic, and secrecy has long been deeply ingrained in the Western imagination. From the early days of the Christian Church, sexual misconduct was often associated with experimentation in occult arts and secretive rituals. Accusations of hedonism and sexual excess in their sacrilegious rites were among the most common charges brought against the Gnostics by the early Church Fathers. Similar allegations of sexual license and profane rituals recurred throughout the Middle Ages, during the Church's campaigns against various heresies, from the Cathars in the thirteenth century
to the Knights Templar in the fourteenth century, to the witch trials of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries.
For this reason alone, the groundwork for incorporating sexual activity in magical rites is well-established.
And, it happens to align with my personal preferences.
"Am I late?" The voice emanated from the doorway that I had previously registered. Turning my head, I saw that Archer had arrived.
"No, in fact, you're early," I replied, returning to my task at hand. "I'm not quite done yet. Jay, pass me the soldering iron."
Jay handed me the tool, and I continued with the final connections on the techno-sorcerous altar. The quick construction of twenty such devices would have been impossible without the assistance of the service androids.
Jay was assisting with the last and most complex one — the main one. The other nineteen androids were engaged elsewhere.
With the final slot completed, I placed the stone grail within it. This would act as a power source for the entire bounded field. The grail, offering limitless mana, would make the only restrictions on the Bounded Field my own skill and the material components.
The altars — with this last one, there would be twenty, each representing one of the leaders of the Watchers.
"Jay, is the smartphone slot functional?" I inquired.
The grail would supply the power, but the smartphone would offer knowledge, both from the more advanced other world and warnings from Larmo.
"It is ready, sir. You simply need to insert it," Jay responded.
"You can use my smartphone," Archer proposed. "I'm less attached to mine than you are to yours."
Despite his kind offer, I had to decline. "Your smartphone doesn't overlay an Elven sword that alerts us to enemies. Besides, the fact that I use it frequently and value it makes it a more significant sacrifice." It wouldn't be destroyed, just permanently plugged in — just like the Stone Grail. Well, not permanently, but as long as I remained in this world. Some objects naturally followed, but others required... "Such considerations matter in magecraft. Like this location."
"I didn't plan on asking, but since you seem so eager to explain," he said, smirking infuriatingly, "What makes this place so special?"
Despite my feigned annoyance, I was secretly pleased he asked.
"This is where Aperture Science originated," I began, "Deep within the bowels of a salt mine, ten miles down, this is the oldest part of the Enrichment Center. It's imbued with history."
"Or it could just be poor air circulation," he quipped. "That's Rin's trademark lecture pose number five. It brings back memories."
"Number five?" I queried.
"The one where you extend your arms and push your hips forward. Number five."
Feeling my face flush, I turned away from him and plugged the smartphone into the altar. A soft hum indicated that it was powering up. Lights illuminated one after another, each signifying its connection with the other nineteen altars that I had previously set up.
Each altar, positioned in a location significant to the fallen angel it represented, was arranged to form a specific figure using sacred geometry. Tied to each altar was an android named after the fallen angel to which the altar was dedicated, bound naked. I had blindfolded them, had Jay stimulate them to the brink of orgasm, and then attached various sex toys to keep them on that edge.
The androids hadn't had names before, so I had granted them the names of the fallen angels documented in the Book of Enoch, except for their leader, Samyaza. Nineteen androids, nineteen names.
I might have missed an opportunity by assigning Jay such a simple name, but an assistant with an occultly inert name has its own uses.
"It is complete," I declared, watching as the final light sparked to life, bathing the chamber in an ethereal glow. "Our garments need to be shed now. Jay, you're an exception, your role is simply to observe the proceedings. Archer will have to shoulder the responsibility alone until I resolve this matter."
Archer smirked at my words, already unbuttoning his shirt with casual ease. "I don't mind at all," he retorted, his voice resounding in the silence, "Hard work is something I always appreciate."
"I hope the resolution arrives sooner rather than later, sir," Jay interjected politely, his synthetic eyes reflecting the ambient light. "May I assist you with undressing?"
His unexpected request amused me and I permitted him. It might have seemed somewhat cruel to exclude him from participation, but he knew better than to expect leniency from a self-proclaimed sadist like me. Besides, it was his turn. I was merely reciprocating the same voyeuristic treatment he received while interacting with the other androids. Although I issued instructions, I was hardly a participant.
As our clothes pooled at our feet, the chamber was suddenly filled with electric tension. The next part required a mathematical approach. I closed my eyes, visualizing the pre-devised matrix. Each row consisted of a numeric representation of my various names. Then, a vector, the product of multiplication with the aforementioned matrix, would further be converted into a specific name. I had computed these figures in advance. Gradually, I vocalized the entire mathematical operation, my voice rising in a chant, "Invocation Assumption of the Godform: Samyaza."
The tang of blood filled my mouth, trickling down my chin in rivulets. As I uttered the final syllable, I felt an ethereal sensation as though spectral wings had unfurled from my back. My consciousness ballooned, my thoughts morphing into unfamiliar shapes. Many truths we clung to were merely a matter of perspective, and mine was rapidly straying from the confines of humanity.
I had once revelled in the mastery of this spell, but that pride seemed laughably misplaced now.
The principle behind the "Assumption of the Godform" was rooted in the belief in dormant power within us. By identifying with the idealized embodiments of this power from antiquity, in the guise of 'gods', one could awaken resonant energies and wisdom within our psyche.
The spell was complex, demanding extensive research into the history and myths of the chosen deity, coupled with long hours of meditation and self-hypnosis.
Since learning the transformation sequence at the exorcist summer camp, I hadn't touched this spell. The comparison between the two was akin to contrasting a child's doodle with a Picasso masterpiece, particularly if one had laboured over the doodle for years while the Picasso was created in a drunken haze within mere minutes.
However, the ritual at hand called for this specific invocation. Had it not been perfectly suited for this occasion, I wouldn't have bothered revising the matrix to incorporate my additional names. It wasn't that my skills had deteriorated. Surprisingly, my proficiency with the "Assumption of the Godform" had improved significantly over time. It's just that the transformation sequence was more authentic, invoking the divine spirit rather than clumsily attempting to emulate such a supernatural event.
I assumed my position at the centre of the altar, allowing Archer to bind me hand and foot, echoing the biblical punishment meted out to the fallen angels, leaving me completely immobilized and vividly exposed.
Expert hands worked over me, Archer skillfully kindling my arousal to an almost unbearable intensity, then pausing to cover my outstretched limbs in transient butterfly kisses.
His attention returned to the epicentre of my desire, lavishing it with slow, deliberate licks. The rise and fall of his tongue kept the flames of anticipation flickering within me.
Throughout, Jay's metallic gaze bore into me, watching with unblinking fascination.
Archer's torment was both excruciating and electrifying. Time and time again, he led me to the precipice of climax, only to draw back at the last moment. This ceaseless dance of arousal and denial was designed to drive me to the threshold of consciousness, a limbo between sleep and wakefulness, reality and dream, body and spirit. It was in this realm of Eroto-comatose lucidity that I would fulfil the Work.
The warm and soft exploration of Archer's tongue stoked a desperate need in me, eliciting a primal yearning for more. But the biblical bonds rendered me helpless, echoing the fate of the fallen ones we were honouring.
Each writhing struggle against my bonds cut the restraints deeper into my flesh, a sweet and sharp counterpoint to the pleasure being bestowed upon me.
Each time I teetered on the brink of surrender, Archer ceased his ministrations, leaving me in a state of exquisite agony. Then the cycle began anew, with soft kisses that lulled the torment he himself wrought.
Throughout this dance, the weight of Jay's gaze was an unending caress, bearing silent witness to our ritual.
A low, desperate moan escaped me as Archer furthered his torment, his fingers venturing to that hidden place that set off a starburst of pleasure within me. But, just as the crescendo built to its peak, he withdrew, leaving me suspended in a state of desperate anticipation.
The dance of torment resumed, now punctuated with the addition of toys; a vibrating wand that pulsed pleasure through my body, a feather that softly tickled and teased, an oil imbued with an intoxicating aroma.
My body screamed in desperation, aching for release and yet dreading the end of the torment.
Exhaustion eventually claimed me, and my struggles against my bonds ceased. I surrendered to Archer's relentless ministrations, descending into a darkness that paradoxically burst with searing light.
No longer was I bound to an altar deep within the earth, but I stood atop a lofty mountain peak, above the cloud line where the breeze rustled the feathers of my outstretched wings. In my right hand, a sword radiated light, while my left cradled a cup, brimming with blessings.
In an echo of a dream, I hoisted my sword high above my head and cried out, "Come and see!"
In response, the remaining memories of the departed from Aperture stirred. The clouds cloaked them in the spectral white robes of martyrs. Transparent and gauzy fabric barely veiled their fatal wounds; crushed, burned, poisoned, dismembered, irradiated.
Despite their gruesome condition, they bore a strange dignity.
They congregated around me, their eyes hollow and their expressions vacant.
I presented the cup to them, "Drink deeply, and be well."
One of the shades, a man in the prime of his life, yet marred by shattered legs, crawled towards me. He took a sip and transformed.
He rose, standing tall on his miraculously healed legs. Yet, when I gazed upon his face, I found no trace of his earlier masculinity. What remained was an ethereal beauty that transcended gender. From his back sprouted two radiant wings.
Another followed, a young girl marred by the scars of acid. She partook from the cup and was similarly transformed, an angelic being unbound by gender.
One by one, they came and underwent their metamorphosis.
The process spanned a moment and an eternity until there remained only angels.
For the third time, I called out into the expanse, "I fear you may not desire this, and that I alone will bear the burden of this great transgression."
Their voices merged into one as they responded, "Let us all take this oath, and bind ourselves with curses, that we do not alter this plan, but see it to fruition."
With that, I imbued them with a form they never held, implanted memories of a past they never lived, and tethered them with an oath they never swore.
With my work completed, I surrendered to the beckoning darkness of dreamless slumber.
Several hours later, my eyes fluttered open to find myself ensconced in Archer's arms, our naked forms nestled in a vast bed within the Io base.
"Did everything proceed as planned?" I queried, nestling deeper into his comforting embrace.
"Yes, the Bounded Field is operational. I could sense it," he replied, "As soon as we completed the ritual, I dispatched Jay to liberate the other androids."
"Good," I responded, stretching languidly, feeling the satisfying soreness in my muscles.
"You had me somewhat alarmed for a while. You started bleeding profusely from your nose. At the ritual's zenith, it was practically a deluge. Your face and chest were drenched in blood. I had to cleanse you afterwards. Of course, that was my intention anyway since you were also smeared in sweat and other bodily fluids."
"I do feel remarkably clean. It's a shame I missed it; I rather enjoy being bathed by you," I admitted with a smile, which he reciprocated. "This should solve the issue with Will."
Alas, it didn't. Will was subjected to yet another episode.
As a result, the following evening found ourselves implementing a new strategy.
Clad only in shorts and with sand beneath my bare feet, it felt as though I was at the seaside, save for the fact that the sand was actually black iron and instead of the sea, there were only swords.
I was present in spirit. My physical form floated in a sensory deprivation tank, a recent addition to the Greenhouse, tucked amidst the vegetation. The tank could only accommodate one, necessitating Archer's improvisation.
I could see him now, resplendent like a celestial body on the solitary hill.
We were both in our Elven forms.
Our fleeting encounter with the era of the Two Trees had left a profound imprint on our spirits. Stripped of flesh, we radiated with their primaeval luminescence.
I was uncertain of any further implications of this marking, but I remained hopeful that such divine light could only bring about good fortune.
Archer too was attired in shorts, fashioned from an Aperture test subject's jumpsuit. Given our bodies were submerged in a bath of body-temperature water, the water-, acid-, and fireproof properties of these jumpsuits came in handy. Their resistance to various elements also made them easy to extract from deceased test subjects. Simply incinerate the body and retrieve the unscathed jumpsuit afterwards.
"It's different," Archer announced as I drew closer to him. "In Dwight's recollections, this was merely black sand beneath a sky devoid of stars."
"Because we cannot perceive what lacks form, we superimpose one on it," I responded, running my eyes through his long red hair. I missed it. Perhaps I should convince him to grow it out in his new form as well. "It's natural for someone like you with such a well-defined Inner World to instinctively recreate it. But we must hasten, or else we risk missing it. Every recurrence worsens his condition. We're running out of time and opportunities. A few more instances, and I may need to resort to necromancy instead of healing. However, it hasn't been in vain. With each episode, I gather more data and a pattern emerges."
There was no need to discuss it further. I had already informed Archer that each time Will's condition deteriorated, he was also experiencing what seemed to be an erotic dream, accompanied by a nocturnal emission. Unfortunately, this didn't significantly narrow down our options. I was far from the only one capable of using sex as a means to feed on life; the Gamaliel Qlipa housed many such creatures.
"Follow me," he instructed, commencing his walk, "While I may not be as familiar with the boy as you are, this is my world."
Our footsteps were silent as we tread. Whether that was a result of our spirits being bare, or because we were in elf form, I couldn't discern.
"Did you notice the eyes on your crest?" Archer queried.
"Yes. They're my latest additions. It seems some personality cores have fused with my Crest," I replied, "Normally, only I can hear them. But on this plane of reality, things are different. Arnold, Leo, and Boaz. Say hello to Archer."
"Hello." "Hello." "Hello."
The three of them greeted simultaneously.
"Greetings," Archer responded tersely, then turned to me and asked, "So, their code is embedded in your Magic Crest?"
"Not just the code. The complete blueprint."
"Have you attempted to Project them? If you have all the data readily available to your mind, it should be feasible."
"You're the expert in that field. And since they're immune to certain effects, I could employ them to test potential upgrades for Cid."
"If you encounter any issues, don't hesitate to ask. I'd enjoy teaching you some magecraft. But that's a discussion for another time. We've arrived at our destination," he announced. And just like that, we were standing beside the bed where Will lay.
Rising from the iron sand, its base melting into the desolate expanse, the mute angel stood as a sentinel over Will. A Bounded Field at work. The boy was awake, sketching something on a notepad.
"Now we just have to wait for it to occur," I stated. Will looked so serene and healthy. Had I not known better, I wouldn't have believed he was on the brink of death. My healing had removed nearly all the symptoms, but each time the situation was more severe. "We arrived a bit early, but better early than late."
"Have you discovered any viable preventative measures?" Archer asked, his gaze assessing the boy.
"There is one possibility. Given that all the fits occurred while Will was asleep, it could help if he were kept awake constantly. But I'm not certain that would work. And even if it did, it would only be killing him more slowly," I replied, my frustration at the situation simmering beneath the surface. The unknown was a foe I despised, yet I'd learned the hard way not to concoct believable lies to mask my ignorance. That strategy had backfired too many times. "I'm considering it as a last resort. If the progression remains consistent, I should be able to heal him once or twice more. For safety's sake, just once more so we can examine the problematic dream."
"Assuming the next one doesn't kill Will outright. If we can't stop it, it would be logical to use him as bait," Archer declared, something peculiar colouring the way he said the boy's name. "If we can't save him, we should at least avenge him."
It was a harsh, yet pragmatic perspective. Perhaps a bit too pessimistic, though.
"You speak as though you know Will," I mused. "I wasn't aware you'd met, at least not while both of you were conscious."
"I paid him a visit. I wanted to see if he remembered anything," Archer replied, his gaze on the boy carrying an indiscernible, yet seemingly sorrowful, expression. "Regrettably, he didn't."
"That's why we're going to experience his dream firsthand," I affirmed. "I'm out of ideas otherwise. I've even tried tarot, and for some reason, I got the High Priestess crossed with the Devil."
The messages I received from the crystal were even more nonsensical. Why were they telling me "don't litter"?
"How are we to enter his dream?" Archer asked.
"As long as Will allows it, we can certainly access his mind using Ósanwë." I used the Elven word for telepathy.
"Would that work?" Archer was sceptical.
"It ought to. The Deep Lore and psionic science are more congruous than either with magecraft," I asserted. To be honest, Elven enchantment would be more suitable than Mystic Codes for enhancing psychic abilities, but magecraft was better for more vulgar effects.
Eventually, Will ceased his drawing and finally succumbed to sleep. Archer and I watched over him, vigilant for any signs of danger.
Will suddenly moaned in sleep.
"Will," I gently whispered, extending my thoughts towards him, "You are in peril. We are here to assist. Allow us in."
The experience was akin to falling, but not in the traditional sense. One moment we were by his bedside, the next, we found ourselves standing next to a small makeshift fort. Constructed from wood, it was heavily overgrown with an unusual mould-like substance. Signs on the front read "Castle Byers", "Residence of Will the Wise," and "All Friends Welcome."
Soft grey ash fell from the sky.
However, there was no time to admire the odd scenery. A faint moan emanated from inside.
We rushed in. On an improvised bed made of pillows and quilts, Will was being pressed down by a nude older boy. The naked teen already had his hand pushed into Will's pants.
Archer rushed in to separate them forcefully, but his hand just passed through both of them.
"There is no point," I observed. I set my hand in position for Cat's Cradle and began to weave a spell. "This is memory. But not of what actually happened. A parasitic revisionist history." Quickly one shape followed another. "It tried to change Will's recollection of the event so that his body would follow his mind." And finally, my fingers formed the diamond, finishing the spell. "And sealed."
Everything but the two of us stopped. Frozen like the bugs in amber.
"Is that it?" Archer queried. "Is Will safe now?"
"No." I shook my head. "This is but a temporary measure. We need to cut this thing at the root. At Hawkins Anomaly."
"Then it is a good thing that I have finished building the gate," he said surprising me.
But it was a relief. It spared me the effort of looking for recent breaches to reopen one.
"I thought that you were too busy to finish that." With the hunt and all.
"Weis helped." That was the name of Companion Core assigned to him.
"I remember finding it in pieces on the floor of your lab."
"He got better."