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As the tension eased from his body, Mat's legs nearly gave out. Between the fire, the panic, and the running, his body had been pushed to the brink. He managed to stagger over to the nearest wall and sink down to the ground. He was not alone as several of his friends panted and sat on the concrete. Liz looked over at him as she wiped sweat off her brow. "You look bad, Mat."


 


Mat grunted. "Food."


 


Now that they weren't trying to dodge bullets, he could see what they had pulled off. They had managed to grab five boxes between them. One kid, Anton, was already opening the first box. From within, he pulled out a dozen bags of chips. Mat held out his hand, and Anton dropped a bag into it. "I'm going to eat, until I burst!" 


 


Shaking his head, Mat said, "No, eat enough to make the pain go away. We need to save as much food as we can." 


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There were grumblings in protest, but no one outright challenged Mat. And he was relieved by it. As he started eating and the pain began to fade, he struggled to stay awake. With every chip he munched, he took another step toward dreamland. Although his body rejoiced as the pain ebbed, something tugged at the edge of his mind. Some kind of warning. Something bad. 


 


He couldn't remember. 


 


He couldn't stay awake. 


 


He heard whispers.


 


He slept.


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 Ch. 8: The Border between the Material and Immaterial


 


The whispers didn't go away. 


 


All around Mat was fire. But he felt none of his usual comfort. For in the fire, shapes twisted this way and that. Hideous, grinning faces would appear and then disappear. He was surrounded by malice and hunger. 


 


This was why he avoided the full extent of what he could do. A sense of danger permeated his entire being, an instinctual knowledge that his very soul was exposed to things better not thought of. The worst part was the utter helplessness. He wanted nothing more to do than to strike at the shadowy figures. Yet, he knew if he tried, it would be a battle of rapid escalation. 


 


A battle he would lose.


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So, Mat stood still, trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat and the neverending barrage of whispers. He couldn't even understand the words they used, and whenever he tried, it felt wrong. 


 


The whispers stopped.


 


It was so sudden that Mat wasn't sure if his hearing, if it was hearing, was playing tricks on him. He cast his gaze at the inferno around him and couldn't comprehend the silence. Each flame shimmered and flickered. While understanding eluded him, Mat was under the distinct impression that the fires were afraid. 


 


"Leave him be." 


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Mat spun around toward the new voice. Although he was surrounded by fire, darkness surrounded the outer edges of the conflagration, and no smoke produced it. Mat squinted, but now the fires burned higher, creating a wall between Mat and the voice. 


 


From beyond the flames, Mat heard the voice again, "Foolishness."


 


The...ground? Floor? Mat shook as something approached. Something big. Something strong. No matter how hard Mat tried to see what was coming, the fire wouldn't let him. 


 


Then, from the darkness, a massive wave of water slammed into the outer edge of the inferno. Instead of steam, the air filled with screams. The water submerged the tongues of fire where they thrashed and withered. 


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As the wave charged forward, Mat turned to run, but the fires grew brighter as though they were waiting to catch the boy. With nowhere to go, Mat crouched and covered his head. Yet, the wave never struck him. Only half a metre away from, the water split into two. To Mat's amazement, the water flowed around him as it struck at the fires. Individual licks of flame at the other edge flew away. Those that remained were consumed by the waters. 


 


Silence.


 


Alone, Mat stared at the strange water. It looked cleaner than the city rivers. Curious, he reached out with a finger. Before he could touch it, the water vanished. 


 


"Are you alright?" 


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Mat looked up into shining blue eyes. A man with bright red hair looked down at him with concern. Mat didn't know how he got here, but the stranger felt oddly real and not real at the same. The weirdest part was the purple pajamas the stranger wore.

 

The stranger chuckled. "Not quite. They're robes, and they're quite comfortable. But I digress, let me help you up," he offered with an open hand. 

 

Staring suspiciously at the hand, Mat instead asked, "Who are you?"

 

If the stranger was annoyed by Mat's hesitation, he didn't show it. The stranger grinned as he said, "My name is Alexandros, though you can call me Alex." 

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"That's a weird name," Mat replied. Yet, he reached out and accepted the strangers, Alex's help. Pulled up, Mat stood eye-to-eye with the man. 


 


Alex shrugged. "It is what it is."


 


Mat paused and glanced around, eyes flitting about for the fire that was here not a moment ago. "What were they?"


 


"Predators of a different kind," Alex said as he cast a hard look toward the missing expanse. "They can be extremely dangerous." 


 


Turning back to Alex, Mat remembered the giant wave which had sent the 'predators' away. "But not to you?"


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"Hmmm," Alex said as he scratched at his red beard. "Well, theoretically, they could, but that would require me to forget all of my discipline for that to happen." His azure gaze shifted to the young man. "With training, you as well could resist them instead of simply waiting for you to return to the waking world."


 


The possibility alone of banishing his nightmares at his whim tempted Mat. But he fought the urge. There was too much he didn't know about this man. "How come you're only now here? Where do you live? Are you from one of the other Alliance planets?"


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Alex chuckled. "I'm from a place much farther away. In fact, let me show you." With blue eyes glimmering with amusement, Alex held up a hand and snapped his fingers. 


 


Mat stood on a wooden floor. Around him were a couple of sofas and chairs, cushioned with faded patterns. The light of a sun welcomed him through a large window. On the ceiling, a fan lazily spun around. At one end of the room was a thick table with five more chairs. Cheap paintings hung on the walls, one with a broken frame. Mat's eyes drank in everything. There was a peace and warmth surrounding him that he had never felt. 


 


Reclining in one of the chairs, Alex watched Mat with a soft smile. 


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Finally, Mat asked, "Where are we?" 


 


Alex waved over the room. "This is my boyhood home. I grew up here." He pointed out the window. Mat walked up to it and saw a village sitting next to a sea. Houses of white stone huddled next to each other as people went about their business on old pavement. "That is Rhodes. It's a small town, but the people are friendly and know how the best ways to cook fish. I've saved a few recipes."


 


Mat didn't know when, but an aroma wafted into the room. It reminded him of the fancier restaurants of Ovlast where the food always costed twice as much as it was worth. He had sneered at the rich fools who wasted money to prove their 'worth', but now he wouldn't mind a bite. 


 


"But, to actually answer your question, this is the planet Delos."


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Mat paused, racking his head of the planets of Balov. He had never really cared about the other planets, and it had been years since he had been in school. That didn't stop the sinking feeling that Delos was not one of them. He became stiff as he stared at Alex. "...you're one of those aliens that invaded, aren't you?"


 


Alex snorted. "I can't tell you how ironic it is to be labeled an alien, considering what I've seen. You are, however, technically accurate. I am not of Balov, though I did not 'invade' this system. I came here to liberate and protect Balov from actual aliens."


 


"And what counts as a 'real alien'?" Mat said spitefully. 


 


Again, Alex raised a hand and snapped his fingers. 


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Mat stood on a metal platform, overseeing war. Men in grey, metal armor fought with green men on thin walkways. Before Mat could focus, a roar behind him made him spin around. In front of him, a giant in purple armour stood facing a dozen green men. Mat blinked as he could see the green "men" better. Their ears were too pointed. None of them seem to have hair. Most different of all, their teeth were fangs with two tusks in their mouths. "They're not human."


 


From beside him, Alex said, "Correct. Though there are many similarities, make no mistake, those are actual aliens. Remorseless and in love with killing for the sake of killing. They are the Orks."


 


Mat threw a glance at Alex before his attention locked on the fight erupting before him. The giant fired with a strange pistol that seemed to shoot white lava. Several of the... Orks melted but the rest charged the giant. The pistol seemed to scream in agony, and the giant threw it. 


 


"Cover your eyes," Alex warned.


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Mat's vision went dark. To his own surprise, his hands had obeyed without thought. Before he could question what just happened, a star blasted him. Even though his eyes were closed and covered, Mat thought he might've gone blind for a moment. He backed away as he pulled his hands down. He breathed a sigh of relief despite how many spots he was seeing. 


 


Then he noticed he was standing on air.


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Alex had an amused smile as Mat screamed. "Easy, easy. This is nothing more than a memory. You're perfectly safe from gravity." The dark-skinned boy shut his mouth and tried to fight his fear. "Walk back to me. One step forward."


 


Although his instincts howled in dismay, Mat bit his lip before he forced himself to take a step. The air, against all evidence, held his weight. 


 


"Good, now take another."


 


Still not quite believing his eyes, Mat took another step. Then another. He kept walking until he was back on the platform. He released an intense sigh of relief before he threw a sharp glare at Alex, who continued wearing his smile.


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Although the fight continued before them, Mat tried to ignore it for now. "How are you doing all of this?"


 


"I'm like you, Mat. A man possessing extraordinary power. Except where you have an affinity for fire, I have an affinity for the mind, among others. More importantly," Alex said, "I can teach you how to master your gift." 


 


Mat paused as he glanced around the memory. Even knowing it wasn't real, Mat knew he couldn't tell the difference. There was great power involved here. Yet, he frowned. "Nothing's free. You're not here 'out of the kindness of your heart'," Mat accused. 


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"True," Alex conceded. "I'm not here to give out charity, but instead I'm offering you a trade."


 


Although circumspect, Mat asked, "What kind of trade?"


 


Alex smiled. "Simple. I teach you how to protect yourself from those predators, and you protect me for a single day in the real world." 


 


Mat balked, his brown eyes wide with shock. "Me. Protect you? I'm just some homeless kid."


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Alex grinned...


 


----


 


...and said, "You are more capable than you think."


 


Anasya could not disagree more with the alien. Aloud, she answered, "I'm just a cleaning lady. I am not some master spy or some movie secret agent."


 


Mr. VonSalim's grin never wavered. "That's what precisely makes you powerful. Most people would never give you a second glance, would never expect you to be anything other than harmless." 


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"I am harmless," Anasya replied wearily as she rubbed her back. "I can't fight. I can barely make the walk from home to work."


 


"Not all battles are fought with fists," Mr. VonSalim said, exuding nothing but patience. "And I would never ask you to do anything physical. My request simply involves pressing a few buttons. Nothing more, nothing less."


 


Anasya fixed the alien with a deadpan stare with her tired eyes. "I am no fool."


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"I'll show you," Mr. VonSalim offered as he waved a hand. The floral-patterned wallpower dissolved as familiar, rich walls of the Directorate stood behind them. In seconds, the pair were standing in one of the Directors' office. Actually, Anasya realized, it was the same office where she had finished her duties this day. Or was it yesterday?


 


Mr. VonSalim pointed at the bathroom. "This way." Although Anasya had no doubt the alien had never been on Balov, he confidently strode forward. He opened the door and entered the procelain room with Anasya trailing behind, unsure of what the red-haired man was up to.


 


Once within, Mr. VonSalim immediately headed to the side wall before holding his hand out to one section.


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Although he never touched the wall, one of the porcelain tiles slid away, revealing a finger scanner. Mr. VonSalim never pressed it, simply pointed at it. The device chipped and an entire portion of the wall opened. "This way, please."

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No matter how solid the environment appeared to be, Anasya could not overcome how surreal everything felt as she follow the alien into a small, secret hallway. They turned right and faced an elevator. Seemingly without a care in the world, Mr. VonSalim summoned the elevator and stepped inside when the doors opened. He waited expectantly. 


 


Anasya reluctantly shuffled inside. As the doors closed, she finally couldn't contain her confusion anymore. "Is this a dream? Are we here? Is this a memory?"


 


"We're not here," Mr. VonSalim explained as he pressed the small button labeled '12'. "This is a combination of memory and farsight. I can see the interior of the building, but I'm using information from various memories to show you how to go to the security center."


 


"Security center?"


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The elevators opened. Inside was a large room, dominated by dozens of security monitors which oversaw every square centimetre of the Directorate. Beneath the screens was an enormous electronic console that extended from one side of the room to the other. Nine members of the Nightwatch attended to the console, reading out reports, verifying security matters, and manipulating the console. 


 


Anasya froze. Mr. VonSalim chuckled, "You're in no danger. We'll start over here." He walked over to the center-left of the room, while Anasya tiptoed behind him, her eyes never leaving the Nightwatch. 


 


"Relax. See, watch." Before Anasya could stop him, Mr. VonSalim slapped the sitting Nightwatchman next to him. ...or would have if his hand hadn't simply flowed through the man's head. "We can't interact with them, they can't interact with us. You're perfectly safe."


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