The Golem Conspiracy - Chapter 1

“Promise me this, Nel…Find Jac, Jacob Aaron Cogan. Make him your Judge.

Remain by his side no matter what...”

Those were the only words Nel could recall. Who spoke them? She didn’t know. And yet she was compelled to see this promise through. It had only been a few days since she first became conscious with little to no memory of whom or what she was exactly, and yet she was determined and already getting close. As she resided under a large steel and concrete bridge, with naught but a red and silver coin in her grasp, she could hear the rumbling of a train rushing along the rattling rails on top of that bridge. As it did, like a wolf picking up the scent of its quarry, she knew she was on the right trail. She was going to find him…

One hundred and fourteen days remain…

# 

On the train was a nineteen-year-old boy in a black duffel coat, a red scarf with thick black zigzags, and wearing a pair of glasses. He sat by the window and spilling out from a bag placed on the seat next to him were various untidy notepads and various forms of literature; art books, comics, fiction and educational textbooks. Plenty of these volumes had seen better days with folds, creases, and tears aplenty.

There was one book in his grasp that he was reading, a hardback science-fiction novel; the front cover had an image of a red, robotic, extraterrestrial looking suit. He just read a scene where a devastating explosion had befell the protagonist and two minor characters. He paused before turning the page. “He’ll be fine,” he predicted the plot with confidence. “Small cut at worst. Both the mooks are dead.” He turned the page to find, lo and behold, both of the ‘mooks’ perished, and the protagonist survived with naught but a small cut on the cheek.

If there were any twists that would actually surprise him later in the book, he would have to wait for it as eventually an announcement was being spoken on the train’s loudspeaker. “We are now approaching Greenborough West.”

He saw the landscape outside change from urban to the thick greenery of a forest. It was his stop. He used a scrap of notepaper to act as a bookmark and slammed the book shut. “Gotta focus if I wanna meet those two on time,” he said, grabbing his bag, quickly placing all of his heavy possessions back into it. He prepared to exit the carriage.

 The train soon arrived at the busy station. He stepped onto the platform with his bag slung over his shoulder. Anxious, he begins his walk to meet two particular people, working his way through the busy crowds of other people at the station.

Mere metres away from the exit barrier, “Jac!” a man’s voice called out the boy’s name from behind him. Bringing his brisk walk to a halt, Jac turned around. There was someone approaching him, a man with sickly-pale skin and a Mohawk of bleach white hair, dressed completely in black attire. He walked closer, his crazed-looking eyes fixated on the young man who felt uneasy for some reason, as if the stranger had some air around him that made him seem more monstrous than he appeared. It wasn’t long before the peculiar gentleman stood face to face with him.

“Can…” Jac tried to speak, but that unnatural fear he was feeling closed his throat up. He cleared it and tried again. “Can I help you?” he asked, trying his best to remain composed.

The stranger, who Jac then noticed that he had an unnatural red colour and pattern in his eyes, reached his claw-like fingers into an inner pocket of his shirt and produced something. “I think you dropped this,” he said. What he held was an ID card.

“Oh?” the young man took the card from the stranger. He looked at it to see his name, Jacob Aaron Cogan, presented on it, confirming it was in fact his. “Uh, thanks,” he looked up to see that the stranger was already on his way, and the strange sense of dread that Jac felt was beginning to fade, much to his confusion. “That was…something,” he said quietly to himself as he looked at his ID. “But he called me ‘Jac’,” he wondered as he saw his full name on the card, “He didn’t say Jacob, or even Jake for that matter. How did he know my nickname?” He looked up again and searched around, trying to find wherever the stranger went to in the station. His eye then caught sight of a clock. A sense of urgency took hold as he put his ID away in his pocket and rushed to the exit of the station.

As he did, the stranger stood further up the platform and looked to where Jac left. “Wherever you are,” he said as if someone could hear him, “I have my eye on him. You’ll have nothing to worry about, Brother.”

# 

The city of Dust-Haven was a natural marvel to many, as each of its districts varied not only in architecture, businesses and communities but topography too. Haven’s-Central-District in the middle seemed like any other urban metropolises with skyscrapers abound, but the four surrounding it were where the differences were much more apparent.

To the north was the mountainous region of Nordheim, home to most of Dust-Haven’s heavy industries; steel-mills, mines and especially the hydro-electric dam that provides power to the city thanks to the rivers that flow from the mountains. Good thing as well since Nordheim’s residential areas become quite a colourful lightshow during the festive season.

Speaking of power, the city also has electricity generated by a massive farm of wind turbines in its western region; the Gale-Steppe. The wide, open grassland remains, for the most part, an undisturbed habitat for wild horses with plenty a scenic horizon in all directions.

Much more exotic and extravagant sights could be found near Emberstone with its warm and beautiful beaches in the south. And part of that was Palace-Sand-Town, the dwelling of many of Dust-Haven’s rich and powerful; celebrities, business-executives, lucky investors, lottery winners; whatever the circumstance, Palace-Sand-Town was where everyone that dreamed of fame and fortune wanted to end up.

Though, the more modest of people were happy enough to live in Greenborough in the east. So many lush forests converged in that area, such its beauty was that the city builders were so determined to create a town that existed as part of it rather than deforest the area for urbanisation. Along the footpaths, over the hills, even just looking out the window of a house, there was greenery to behold. This was especially most evident with Graceful Park in Greenborough’s centre.

With all these different landscapes so close to each other within the city’s dominion, it’s often said, though perhaps exaggerated, that throughout the seasons, Dust-Haven is graced with almost every topographical feature known to humankind. As said before, it was a natural marvel to many, and thus plenty of scientists often wondered how such a place could be possible on the Earth.

# 

After a brisk fifteen-minute walk from the train station, Jac arrived at a busy town centre. Sat upon one of the steel benches there, intently focused in some sort of magazine, Jac encountered someone familiar. “Kept you waiting, Karl?” Jac called out.

Karl was wearing a scruffy green camouflage-pattern jacket, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Around his neck was a pair of military dog tags that he wore for novelty, especially apparent with some faux wear-and-tear on them. His blonde hair, the goatee on his chin included, was spiky and untidy as well. “Hey, Jac,” said Karl with his raspy voice as he stood up and quickly rolled up a magazine he was looking at and tucking into the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “You actually did it then? You went all the way to Nordheim to get that book?”

“Oh yeah,” Jac answered, pulling out from his bag and presenting the hardcover fiction he tried to read on the train earlier.

“Couldn’t the shop just post it to you?” Karl asked.

“He didn’t want to.” Jac couldn’t believe what he was saying himself. “And I pleaded over the phone, believe me.”

“Why would he be like that?”

“I dunno, the guy’s just weird. You should have seen the look of contempt he gave me when I showed up. It was almost comical really.”

“Maybe he’s got agoraphobia and he just lives in that shop,” Karl jokingly speculated.

Jac laughed. “You meet all sorts, I guess.”

“Jac! Karl!” The two heard a feminine voice from the crowd as they turned to see a hand wearing a fingerless-glove waving at them. Revealing herself from the crowd, it was a girl with long brown hair and a cream-coloured jacket. And in her other hand on a leash was an excited young springer-spaniel, its tail wagging vigorously as it enthusiastically tried to claw its way over to Jac and Karl.

“Hey, Lili,” Jac greeted her.

“Hey,” as did Karl. The dog was jumping up and scratching at Karl’s legs for attention. “Hi, Little Seth!” he knelt to fuss the dog, which returned the affection by licking the man’s face.

“How’re things?” Jac asked Lili.

“Okay mostly,” Lili said. “My bus was held up in traffic again this morning. Seriously, I thought Dobbs said he was gonna do something about the roads.”

“Who?” Karl inquired upon hearing the name ‘Dobbs’ while he cradled Seth in his arms like the dog was a human infant.

“The mayor,” Lili explained.

“How late were you exactly?” Jac asked.

“I was on time for my lecture,” Lili answered. “I was just hoping to do something en route. I lost about ten minutes?”

“Well, if it’s only ten minutes then it’s hardly anything to scream bloody murder about,” said Jac. “Sure, that out-of-touch old man is far from the best mayor Dust-Haven’s had, but considering the other things he’s fudged…” As Jac spoke, Lili snickered a little while shaking her head. “…What’s funny?”

“I’d hardly call you the expert on efficiency and expert planning,” she explained. “If I’m right to guess, you did make a huge trip to the most backwater part of Nordheim just to get some novel.”

“He did,” Karl didn’t hesitate to confirm.

Little Seth barked, like he was speaking his own view on the matter. Perhaps he did? Though being a dog, it was more than likely he was thinking of something much simpler.

“It wasn’t just that,” Jac explained, trying to justify himself. “I made a trip out of it. Saw some sights, ate the local delicacies, the whole works.”

“I mean it is Nordheim, after all,” said Karl. “It’s only September, but I’m guessing they’ve already got the Christmas lights up, yeah?”

Jac nodded, “They’re selling the chocolate too.”

“It’s not even Halloween yet, you nut-cases!” Karl lamented the fanatical devotion of Nordheim’s people.

“But the book was your motive for going, right?” Lili asked Jac, shooting him an accusing glare.

“What else could I do?” Jac answered, trying to restrain himself from raising his voice. “The shopkeeper was crazy; he didn’t want to post it!”

“And all that because it’s a hardcover. Didn’t you say you could just get it in paperback anywhere else?”

“And risk having it fall to pieces within days? No thanks.”

“Maybe if you took better care of them,” Karl modestly suggested, “you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“I…” Jac tried to protest further, only to end up rubbing the back of his head in shame and defeat. “Touché.” He opened up his bag and presented a massive collection of novels and comics alike. “I guess I can afford to leave a couple at home.”

“A couple?” Lili said, exasperated. “I can’t help but think how you’re willing to lug all of those around all day, silly.”

“You know what I’m thinking about now?” Karl asked aloud. “Lunch.”

“Ooh! I agree.”

“Bark!” Seth thought so too with his tail wagging full of enthusiasm.

“How do you feel about subs?” Jac suggested.

#

Having purchased some sandwiches and drinks, they all headed to Graceful Park in the centre of Greenborough. All the while they walked, Little Seth, enthralled by the delicious scent of his owner’s food, was leaping upward towards the bag it was kept in. “Seth, no,” Lili sternly told the dog. “You can’t have this. This is people food.”

Seth whimpered, begging for pity.

“Aww,” Lili felt a little guilty. “If you behave, you can have something.”

“You know,” Karl suggested as they walked along one of the parks paths through the trees, “we could have just eaten our stuff outside the shop instead walking all the way here.” His statement implied a little contempt for the walk to the park.

“Well,” Lili retorted, “excuse me for wanting to look at some pleasant scenery while I eat.”

“I have to admit,” said Jac, taking Lili’s side of the argument, “as good as their food is; that sandwich place does look like an absolute dive.”

“Yeah,” said Lili, “it looks like it has rats.”

“But we know it doesn’t,” Karl defended.

“I know we know it doesn’t, it just looks like it does. Sorry, but I want my food to stay in my stomach after I eat it.”

“Need I remind you, Karl?” said Jac. “When we first started coming here, you’re the one who said you liked this place before we said so ourselves.”

“I mean, yeah,” Karl admitted, “I like this park as much as anyone. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not finding this ritual of ours repetitive or anything. Just a suggestion is all. You know I like to take life easy.”

“It’s a five-minute walk from the shop!” Lili exclaimed before the three friends eventually found a bench. “It’s hardly Mount Everest.”

Jac laughed before speaking, “Yeah, you’re just being lazy.”

“Oh, like there’s a difference,” Karl dismissed.

They sat on a bench near the footpath, the same bench the group have always sat upon for meetings for a while, almost ritualistically. Jac took a huge sniff of his sandwich’s odour as he unwrapped its packaging, before letting out a huge sigh of satisfaction. The scent of his food eventually found its way into Karl and Lili’s nostrils, and they recognised it; a toasted lamb and halloumi sub loaded with lettuce, red onions and sweet chilli sauce, the same sandwich Jac always got. “Speaking of repetitiveness,” said Lili, “don’t you get tired of ordering the same thing again and again?”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Jac quickly responded before voraciously biting into his sandwich.

“You could do worse I suppose,” Lili shrugged and began helping herself to her own meal. She looked down to see Little Seth sitting and pressing one of his front paws into her leg, begging for a snack. “Be patient, pupper,” she told him with her mouth full. “So, Karl, how is the job going?” she asked after swallowing the first bite of her salami and bell-pepper sandwich.

“Well, let’s just say that,” Karl seemed elusive and cagey, “due to some issues of one person’s, how shall I put it…”

“You got fired again?” Jac guessed flatly and unsurprised.

“If you wanna put it bluntly,” he admitted.

“How many times is that now, Karl?” Lili asked, disappointedly. “If this keeps up, no-one will want to hire you in the end. Think about Mio. You won’t be able to get that engagement ring if you can’t afford one.”

“I’m not getting her an engagement ring; we’re not ready for that yet.”

“Is that right? Then what’s that jewellery catalogue shoved into your back pocket?” Lili interrogated, causing Karl to fluster.

“That’s what that was?” said Jac, remembering he saw Karl reading a magazine right before they met up.

Lili continued, “You two won’t be Mr and Mrs Leifsson for a while if you can’t sustain yourselves.”

“Hey, hey,” Karl tried to excuse himself, “it’s not entirely my fault. I was just taking a little break from supervising the desk and one of the customers stole some of the stationary. I mean, okay, it wouldn’t have happened if I was there looking after it then,” then he whispered, “or the three times before,” then spoke normally again, “but really, shouldn’t the customers have the common decency to, you know, not steal?”

“Negligence is still negligence, man,” Lili said, exasperated. “It’s not just the five-minute walk from the shop you don’t wanna do, eh?”

“Will you drop that already? Look, I’m sure I can find another job. It’s not the end of the world.”

“You need to support yourself somehow,” said Lili. “Mio’s probably the most patient person ever it seems.”

“I mean you gotta be patient if you have an obsession with JRPGs like Karl says she has,” Jac said. “Aren’t they each like a hundred hours long?”

“I distincltly remember one clocking at one-oh-eight,” Karl confirmed.

“Fair enough,” Lili continued. “But even she’d be kicking you out in no time if this keeps happening, and I’m sure it’d be super embarrassing to move back in with your parents at your age.”

“I would never hear the end of it from my mum either.”

“I’m sure it’s only because she worries,” Lili suggested, “I know my mum would. She’s always been like ‘No!’” she imitated her mother sternly wagging their fingers at her and even putting on her mother’s strong Bengali accent, “‘Lili Varma, you must support yourself by yourself one day!’”

“I don’t recall her being that stern,” said Jac as he gave a small chuckle to Lili’s impression.

“I’m paraphrasing here. My point is, not everyone has a guardian-angel of sorts, you know?”

“Hey, you never know. I probably do,” Karl laughed, somewhat awkwardly. He shrugged, “Maybe a literal one. You never know. What do you think?” he asked Jac.

Jac answered, “Well, if you ask me, they’re just fairy tales the ancient people of the Middle-East thought up to distract their children from the fact that they lived in the desert.”

“Through God, all things are possible,” Karl humorously impersonated a religious zealot.

“He’s as much a fairy tale too,” Jac showed little interest in going along with the joke. “Besides, shouldn’t we be glad they’re not real? If they were, that would mean every extremist who murdered and pillaged in their name would be correct.” Jac was of course speaking of the crusader-knights of old, corrupt churches and irrational demagogues that exploited blind faith for malignant intentions. “That’s a huge slap in the face of the innocent victims and their loved ones.”

“Except it wouldn’t, technically,” Lili stated. “If that stuff’s real, it would mean the innocents would go to heaven, right?”

“You’re not defending them, are you?” Jac asked.

“Of course not! What they did was wrong, undeniably. I’m just speaking hypothetically. We all know none of that rubbish those nutters preach is real. But if it was, meaning God in His all-powerful, all-knowing self is real and He did in fact command those horrible things to be done, there would be literally nothing you could do about it. And, like I said, the innocents would go to heaven; good for them.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a medieval priest or something that gladly had his soldiers kill innocent civilians with that same mentality. ‘God would know His own’, he said, because he couldn’t be bothered to sort through them himself.”

“You’re getting awfully righteous about this,” said Karl. “I see your point, but you’re acting like a preacher yourself.”

“Well, I know I’m right,” Jac insisted.

“Funny,” said Lili. “Wouldn’t they be saying they were right too? And you know what?” She leered at her friend with a wry smile. “Everyone is the hero of their own story. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Jac began to blush with embarrassment. “Please don’t,” he begged her.

“What’re you talking about?” Karl asked.

“Reading all those books,” Lili explained, “Jac wants to be a hero too.” Her friend was already wishing he wasn’t there for her to recount a story he would rather remain untold.

“Huh?” Karl laughed. “Since when?”

“Primary school,” Lili answered. “In fact…”

“Here we go,” Jac uttered quietly as he sunk his face into his palms.

“One time,” Lili recounted, “in year two, I think? I can’t remember who exactly, but it was someone’s birthday and their balloon got stuck in a tree. Oh-so-confident Jac here tried to get it back for them only for the balloon to go pop in his face, startling him. And he fell out of the tree, landed on his face and smashed his teeth out.”

“One!” Jac exclaimed. He clarified, or perhaps tried to save what face he could, “It was one tooth and I only chipped it.”

“Yeah?” Karl challenged, enjoying the moment. “Open up, let’s see it.”

“It was a baby tooth; it fell out and got replaced by another long ago.” He pointed at the canine of the top right row. “And it was this one if you really must know.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” Karl knew full well that Jac was being honest. That didn’t mean he would pass up the opportunity for a laugh.

Jac just groaned in defeat as his two friends were in hysterical fits of giggling. “Lili,” he ominously spoke, “since we’re in the mood for embarrassing stories, what’s to stop me from telling Karl about…”

Lili’s expression instantly changed from joy to dread as she quickly interrupted Jac. “B-B-Because,” she stammered and gave a nervous chuckle, “it’s a very spiteful thing to do and heroes don’t do that.” Jac started developing the faintest inflection of a mischievous grin. “Please don’t do that,” Lili was close to grovelling.

“Okay,” Karl was relishing the time he was having, “I have to hear about this.”

“No!” Lili seemed desperate. “No-one needs to hear about this!” She could see Jac draw breath. “No!” She dived forward with urgency and covered his mouth with her hands, haphazardly dropping her sandwich on the ground. “Shut up. Shut up!” She wasn’t even slightly concerned that she was making a scene there and then.

Karl was having a blast seeing his two friends humiliate each other. “Now I really wanna know what this story is.”

“You’ll never know,” Lili determined with a crazed look in her eyes.

“Alright, relax,” Jac managed to push her away enough so he could speak. “No-one has to hear it, fine.”

Still agitated, Lili backed off. “Thank you,” she quickly and quietly said as she returned to her place on the bench and found her rambunctious dog happily helping himself to her sandwich on the ground. “Seth! No!” She pulled him away. “Bad dog! Leave it!”

As he finished his lunch, Jac took his mobile phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Sorry, guys. I have to go,” he said. I promised I’d help Amy with something,” he spoke of another friend.

“Ain’t that sweet of you,” said Lili, with a strange amalgamation of mockery and admiration in her tone of voice. “Oh, and not to seem pushy or anything, but…”

“I know, I know. I’m figuring it out. But she’s devoted to her work, you know? It’s hard to find time for all of us to be able to meet up.”

“By all means. Don’t try to force it, man,” said Karl. “That’ll just make the whole thing awkward.”

Jac lobbed the sandwich packaging into a waste bin near the bench, “I’ll see you both.”

“See ya,” Karl said.

“Bye, Jac,” Lili said too.

“Bark!” Seth appeared to be saying goodbye too.

#

Jac headed to the north-west of Greenborough to meet another friend of his. Along the way, something caught his eye in an alley to his left, prompting him to stop.

Standing upright and totally static was a humanoid figure. He approached this object of interest to get a better look. It clearly appeared artificial, a statue of sorts made of what Jac could identify as stone in some areas, clay in others, maybe glass for its circular eyes and the gem-shape on its chest. “Looks like a Golem,” Jac thought aloud, aware of the mystical animated constructs from fantasy stories. “Not quite as rough looking as the typical kind,” he commented as he stared into its eyes. “Why’d the sculptor feel the need to clothe it though?” he quizzed as he noticed the ragged robes draped over its torso and tied around its waist, as well as some bandages and ropes wrapped around its arms and legs. Jac found it to be a fascinating sight, but as much as he wanted to dwell, he had another priority. He turned and walked back into the street to continue on his way, no longer around the ‘Golem’ to see a faint light flicker in its eyes.

# 

Jac arrived at his destination soon enough; an orphanage. Based in the north-west of Greenborough, it was quaint looking building that, while intact and decently kept, it had its fair share of weathering with some of the thick exterior paint chipped away to reveal the bricks behind it. Still, it stood and served its purpose.

Jac entered the building through the front door and spoke to the nearest member of staff, a mild-mannered, middle-aged woman. “May I help you, sir?” the lady asked.

“I’m here to see Amy Corson,” Jac replied.

“Amy’s upstairs. She was doing some stuff in the attic, I think?”

“I’ll see if she needs help. Thanks.” Jac went upstairs.

On the landing of the second floor, Jac found a young, blonde woman. She was hanging from her hands pried into a hatch on the ceiling, golden bangles rattling around her wrists, as she struggled to pull open the way to the building’s attic. Jac couldn’t see her face, but recognising a navy-blue blouse with short but baggy sleeves sticking out from the arms of her long woolly cardigan, a few favourite choices of the attire in her possession, though not as much as the large black-and-white chequered bow tied to the back of her hair. Jac knew who she was; Amy Corson. “Come on,” Amy said through gritted teeth. “Why are you always like this?” This obviously wasn’t the first time she had trouble with this latch. “Just open, you piece of…” she almost swore before Jac broke his silence.

“Hey,” he said.

“Huh?” Amy turned around, revealing her icy-blue eyes as at that moment, something snapped and gave way. The hatch to the attic suddenly opened and Amy clumsily fell to the ground. “Oof!”

“Oh! Are you alright?”

“Yep!” she happily exclaimed before leaping back up to her feet, rushed towards Jac. “Nice to see you!” she greeted warm-heartedly before gesturing to the attic. “Right on time, too.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint.”

“Well that depends,” Amy gave a wry accusing glare.

“Fret not, my lady,” Jac then responded with an exaggerated posh accent. “I do have the item you requested on my person.”

“I am most grateful, Jacob darling,” Amy responded with her own comical posh accent in return.

Jac dropped his giant bag of books, landing with a loud thud, and began rummaging through it.

“How your spine hasn't split in half from carrying that all the time, I have no idea,” said Amy.

“Sit ups, calcium and plenty of motivation,” Jac joked, though Amy had an eyebrow raised. “I may be lying about the sit ups,” Jac admitted. He continued to search through his bag until, “Ah ha!” he pulled out a large, hardback tome, the cover featuring high fantasy art of various bizarre figures. “Here it is, as promised.”

“Perfect!” Amy received the book from her friend.

“What was it for again?”

“Phil, one of the boys here, it's his birthday soon and loves these fantasy role-playing games.” Amy walked over a unit of shelves in the hallway and reached into a tin pot to pull out some money. “We all chipped in.” She handed the cash to Jac, reimbursing him. “Thanks again for getting it.”

“That shop I went to had quite a fair share of these. RPGs were very niche in the past, now there's like a billion of them.”

“There’s been a fandom for everything since the beginning of the digital age, hasn’t there? Have you ever played one yourself?”

“Twice, back in secondary school,” he answered. “One was pretty straightforward. The other was extremely quick to go off the rails. Anyway, you said you needed help with something as well?”

“Yeah; the TV in the living room is busted.” She pointed back at the open hatch to the attic. “The tools are up there somewhere. I just need help finding them. No ladder though, so…” she leapt up and grabbed the edge of the open hatch, hoisting herself up. Jac followed suit.

Up in the dusty attic, with antiquated cupboards and drawers here and boxes of cardboard and plastic there, the two searched for the toolset. “It should be a blue box,” Amy described it. “Has a white star on its top.”

“Got it,” Jac said as he rummaged in one area. “So,” he started to make conversation, “much happen here since I last came over?”

“Other than the TV going wrong again,” Amy answered as she searched, “there was group with a megaphone that was spouting doomsday stuff up and down the road a week or two ago…or something like that, I didn’t really pay that much attention to what they were saying.”

“It’s funny. I was just discussing religious extremists with Lili and Karl earlier. It’s quite scary to think there’s one such group nearby. I thought we’d be done with them in this day and age.”

“I just don’t get how they can do that without any care for upsetting, or even harming others. It’s selfish of them really.”

“Did they stay long?”

“They got lost soon enough; haven’t seen them since. Strangely though, right before they left, I think I saw a Middle-Eastern looking woman confronting them.”

“Maybe she was correcting their presumably asinine interpretations of their scriptures,” Jac speculated.

“That wasn’t the strange part; I could have sworn she was carrying a samurai sword.”

“Are you serious!?” Jac laughed “I’ve changed my mind; that’s what got them to get lost.”

Amy couldn’t help but laugh herself, “Maybe. Still, I’m worried about them though.”

“They never get any traction in the end,” Jac reassured Amy. “Just idiots wasting everyone’s time, especially their own.”

“Speaking of time, have you found out if Lili and Karl have any chances to meet up? I’m still anxious for it.” Amy’s words revealed that she had yet to become properly acquainted with Lili and Karl herself.

“I’m still trying to figure things out,” Jac answered. “When you have time, they’re busy. When they’re not, you are. It just seems like everything’s preventing it.”

“Like God Himself is preventing it,” Amy commented while briefly resting her hand over her heart. “Well, don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure we’ll get some time eventually.”

“I will see it done, even if it costs me my life, my lady,” Jac put on his posh accent again.

Amy laughed. She too spoke fancy in kind, “I can only pray it will not come to that, dear Jacob.” She snickered once more before commenting in her regular voice, “Can’t help but be a hero, can you?” Jac blushed. “You always wanted to be one growing up,” Amy explained. She seemed to be familiar with the same trait of her friend that Lili was. “All those adventure stories you read have clearly had an influence on you.”

“Which only started when you lent me some books back then,” said Jac.

“You deflecting the blame?”

“It was a silly thought back then, you know? Childish.”

“And yet,” she cheekily nudged him with her elbow, “you still kind of want to.” She snickered again. “What’s that saying again? Girls grow up, boys just grow. Is that right?”

“Does that mean you don’t want your own personal library anymore?” Jac remembered Amy’s own childish ambition.

“Oh, do not get me wrong, sir!” she righteously exclaimed with one hand on her waist and the other waving before her, not realising she was pointing at Jac with a screwdriver she happened upon during her search. “That library, that gigantic, wonderful, pristine, filled-to-the-freakin’-brim-with-pages library may be but a mere dream now. But one day, I tell you! It will happen!” Her words were radiating with passion and fanaticism.

“Amy,” Jac held his hands up like was surrendering, “you are aware you can stab someone with that, right?”

“Huh?” She snapped back to her senses and noticed the sharp tool she had in her grasp. “Oh, sorry,” she giggled awkwardly. “I got a little excited.”

“Maybe neither boys nor girls grow up,” Jac remarked on the saying. “Gender equality has triumphed!”

“If you say so,” said Amy. “I’ll continue wanting to have a library. You continue wanting to be a hero.” She soon realised. “Wait.” She looked at the tool in her grasp. “Screwdriver; we must be close!”

The two continued to talk for minutes and soon enough, they found the toolbox. With their task complete, Amy got back to work and Jac decided to head home.

Upon exiting the orphanage and proceeding to walk down the road toward his home, Jac passed by someone, a dark dressed stranger with pale sickly-white skin, walking down the opposite direction of the street. As he did, Jac felt unnerved, his heart skipped a beat and a chill went down his spine as a bizarre sense of dread gripped his thoughts. He turned around to see and immediately recognised him; it was the same man he encountered at the station earlier that day. “You know,” the stranger said as he stopped walking and turned to the side to reveal he was holding an old book about myths and legends from all over the world, “as much as none of this is quite right, it’s pretty fascinating.” His gaze was fixed on the pages.

“Are you…” Jac began to nervously ask. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Hmm?” The stranger looked up at Jac. “You haven’t lost it again have you?” He recognised Jac as he inquired about his ID card from earlier.

Jac was confused and flummoxed. “N-no, I uh…”

“Funny,” the stranger said with a grin. “What are the chances of us running into each other again?” He didn’t wait for Jac to answer however as he turned around and continued walking down the street.

“How did you know my nickname?” Jac abruptly asked.

“Your what?” the stranger asked back as he turned to face Jac again.

“When you gave me my ID back,” Jac explained. “You called me ‘Jac’.”

The stranger’s eyes glanced to the side in confusion. “It was written on your card,” he explained.

“You didn’t say ‘Jacob’ or ‘Jake’ or even ‘Mr Cogan’ though.”

“Is that how you pronounce it?” the stranger had an eyebrow raised. “Sorry, this isn’t my first language.” He turned back to his walk. “Or my second…or third,” he continued to speak as he walked. “Now that I think about it, it’s not even my...” Before Jac could hear any more, the stranger was out of earshot, and the alien sensation of trepidation that Jac felt was no longer present.

“What an odd person,” he commented to himself, still perplexed by the unexplained panic-attack he seemed to suffer in that stranger’s presence. Jac eventually shrugged, dismissing the whole bizarre moment, and simply made his way home.

# 

As the day was coming to its end, Jac finally arrived home, a cheap apartment building in the north of Greenborough, his place on the third floor. Upon entering, he made for the living room. It was nothing special with humble furniture as well as four units of bookshelves that were still unassembled and bound within their cardboard packaging with piles of books and magazines placed upon each box; Jac may have been technically using them, though not in the intended way. And even with no-one to see his belongings in that state, he couldn’t help feel embarrased about it as he dropped his heavy baggage to the floor with a thunderous slam.

He walked over to a nearby countertop. Sat upon it in a frame was an old photograph a woman in a smart-casual outfit. Her appearance was not too dissimilar from Jac’s, from the skin tone, hair colour and even the fringe that sat dead-centre between the sanguine eyes.

“I’m home,” Jac said to it, to her, as he picked up the photo. “Just where did you go?” he asked. “Are you even still alive, Mum?” He shut his eyes and pressed the frame to his forehead, like he was hoping to make some form of contact with his missing mother, sceptical as he was of spirits, psychics or other such phenomena. But he knew it was best not to dwell on the matter, obsessing over it wasn’t going to provide answers. He sighed, “Just carry on, Jac,” he told himself, placing the frame back on the countertop.

There was another item there, a steel pendant with his full name on one side and a symmetrical icon of a pair of wings engraved on the opposite. He briefly fiddled with it, gazing at each side in deep thought before placing back in its place by the photo frame; the two items would seldom ever be kept apart from each other. “Just carry on,” Jac repeated to himself before going about his casual activities at home for the evening.

Just after midnight, Jac was awakened by a loud knocking noise at his front door. Annoyed, he stormed out of his bedroom and opened it. But to further irritate him, whoever gave him this rude awakening was now absent. The young man found this confusing; his apartment was at the end of a very long corridor, so unless whoever awoke him was an Olympic runner, they couldn’t have made it out of sight in a few seconds. To further add to his confusion, Jac didn’t even hear footsteps at any moment. Hanging his head in frustration, he noticed an envelope on the floor just outside the doorframe.

He picked it up and analysed it; the thickness suggested it only contained one sheet. The person who awakened Jac must have left this. “I’m awake now, may as well open it,” he thought, retrieving and equipping his glasses. Inspecting the contents held within, Jac discovered a black sheet of paper with a statement in white ink. Believing it was something nonsensical, he attempted to tear the sheet apart. Surprisingly, he was unable to do so, no matter how hard he tried, not a single crease, let alone a tear, was made apparent. Eventually the statement caught his eye and read:

Sleeping peacefully? Enjoy it while you can.

The Massiark has his intentions towards our worlds.

Eden is doomed to end once and for all.

But Adama need not join it in oblivion.

Not if you all have your say in it.

So, what say you, hero?

“The hell is this!?” Jac questioned. “Massiark?” he repeated the strange word as he scoffed and threw the sheet aside on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, and then we’ll behead the dragon and save the princess,” he commented sarcastically before heading back to bed.

# 

That night, atop Jac’s apartment building, a man sat on the edge of the roof as he gazed at the horizon. It was the same stranger that Jac encountered twice earlier that day. As he continued to observe the cityscape with his unnaturally red eyes, his shadow cast by the moonlight changed shape behind him into a silhouette of a tall, winged, monstrous creature. A grin befell his face as his gaze fixated on the stars in the sky. “By your will, Father, you create,” he said. “By your command, Father, I destroy.” He laughed. “Is that really what the previous incarnations uttered? Were they compelled as I am to? How fortunate it is then that it suits the plan. But just where could you be, Brother?”